The giant penguin statue outside Shinagawa Aquarium stared at me judgmentally, as if it knew I was using this trip to avoid my study materials.
"You're anthropomorphizing again," Yuki said beside me, adjusting her square glasses. "First manga volumes, now statues. Should I be concerned?"
"Says the person who names her color-coded study guides," I countered, my silver hair whipping in the autumn breeze. "Besides, this penguin is definitely judging my life choices."
"Your life choices are questionable enough to judge," she agreed, pulling two tickets from her bag. "Though I'd say they've improved since your 'reading manga in wrong order' days."
"Are you ever going to let that go?"
"Not until you admit that starting '20th Century Boys' from volume 15 was a crime against literature."
Six months ago, that kind of teasing would have sent me running for the nearest hiding spot. Now it just made me smile, remembering that fluorescent-lit manga cafe where the infamous Ice Queen had first decided to lecture me about proper reading order.
"You know," I said as we entered the main hall, "this is definitely an upgrade from our usual study spots."
"Well, I couldn't let you build another fortress of textbooks in the club room. Segawa was starting to call it 'the naval archive.'"
The gentle blue light from the tanks washed over us as we walked, making her long black hair shimmer. It was strange seeing Yuki here, away from her carefully maintained school image. No students whispering about the Ice Queen, no reputation to uphold. Just my friend who secretly cried over shoujo manga and now was trying to save me from exam-induced panic.
"I've never actually been here before," I admitted, stopping in front of a tropical fish display.
"Really? The famous hermit of 2-B never sought refuge among other silent creatures?"
"Funny. I usually found excuses to avoid school trips. You know, before..."
"Before I interrupted your strategic manga barricade?" There was understanding beneath her teasing tone.
"Yeah." I watched a clownfish dart between anemones. "Life was simpler when I was just hiding behind books."
"Life was boring," she corrected, turning to face me. The blue light caught her glasses, making her eyes unreadable for a moment. "You were boring."
"Wow, thanks."
"I mean it. Look at you now – helping a tiny Dutch class rep navigate Japanese high school while managing a photography club that includes a reincarnated admiral. The antisocial manga hoarder I met six months ago wouldn't recognize you."
Something in her tone made my heart skip a beat. Before I could respond, my phone buzzed.
Admiral's Update: We have a situation! Lieutenant Matsuda has been spotted in enemy waters (Doutor Coffee near the station), showing signs of severe emotional distress! Await your tactical guidance!
I stared at my phone, the peaceful atmosphere of the jellyfish exhibit suddenly forgotten. Yuki peered at the screen over my shoulder.
"Is he actually crying, or is this Segawa's usual... Segawa-ness?" she asked.
My phone buzzed again with a slightly blurry photo. Through the cafe window, we could make out Matsuda's hunched form at a corner table, his camera bag beside him untouched. Even through Segawa's questionable photography skills, the slump of his shoulders was unmistakable.
"That's not good," I muttered, already typing a response. "Where's Akane?"
"Student council meeting," Yuki replied. "They're finalizing the festival schedule today."
Another message from Segawa: Should I commence reconnaissance? My naval expertise suggests a flanking maneuver...
"No!" I typed quickly. "Stay where you are. We're coming."
I turned to Yuki, but she was already gathering her things. "Go," she said. "I'll let Akane know. Just..." she hesitated. "Just remember what we talked about. You don't have to fix everything yourself."
But I was already moving, my silver hair streaming behind me as I rushed toward the aquarium exit. Behind me, I heard Yuki sigh something that sounded suspiciously like "hopeless."
I found them exactly where Segawa's photo had shown – Matsuda curled over a probably cold coffee, with Segawa hovering awkwardly nearby, looking like he couldn't decide whether to attempt a naval invasion or retreat entirely.
"The reinforcements have arrived!" he announced as I approached, earning strange looks from other customers.
"Segawa," I said quietly, "maybe go get some fresh drinks?"
He looked between me and Matsuda, then nodded with unusual seriousness. "A wise tactical decision. I shall procure supplies!"
As he headed to the counter, I slid into the seat across from Matsuda. Up close, he looked even worse – his glasses were slightly fogged, and he was clutching a crumpled piece of paper.
"Hey," I said softly.
He didn't look up. "She has a boyfriend."
My heart sank. "Akane?"
A slight nod. "University student. Photography major. They met at a gallery opening last weekend." His voice was flat, emotionless. "He has a Canon EOS R5."
I felt my chest tighten as the pieces clicked into place – Kenji. The deliberately casual visits to the club room, the lingering glances over imperfectly exposed prints, the way Akane's perfect posture would slip just slightly when he was around. All this time, I'd watched their dance of technical critiques and hidden glances, never realizing it had developed into something more.
"Oh, Matsuda..."
"I was going to confess," he continued, still staring at his coffee. "After the festival. I had it all planned. There's this sunset spot in the park where the light hits just right, and I thought..." He finally looked up, his eyes red-rimmed behind his glasses. "I'm such an idiot."
"You're not—"
"I couldn't even talk to her properly! Just... stupid spreadsheets and equipment inventories and..." He gestured helplessly with the crumpled paper – what I now recognized as one of Akane's color-coded schedules. "What was I thinking?"
Before I could respond, Segawa returned with fresh drinks and, surprisingly, no naval metaphors. He set them down carefully, then pulled up a chair.
"You know," he said, in a remarkably normal voice, "before I discovered my past life as Admiral Yi, I couldn't talk to anyone. The real me was too... much. Too weird. Too everything." He pushed one of the drinks toward Matsuda. "Sometimes the people we admire help us find pieces of ourselves, even if they don't become what we hoped."
Matsuda and I both stared at him. I'd never heard him speak without a single reference to naval warfare.
"What?" Segawa shrugged, a bit of his usual self returning. "Even the greatest admirals knew when to change course."
My phone buzzed – a message from Yuki: Akane's still in her meeting. Want backup?
I looked at Matsuda, still clutching his cold coffee, and Segawa, attempting to fold a napkin into what was probably supposed to be a ship.
No, I replied. I think we've got this. Sometimes you just need your own kind of weird.