36. Pleasure and Happiness
"Neo-kun."
"What?"
Kana asked hesitantly, her tone cautious. "Aren't you bored?"
I was about to say, *Not bored at all*, but then I wondered if maybe Kana was the one feeling bored and was indirectly trying to convey that to me.
Testing the waters, I went along with her words. "Yeah, maybe a little bored. Just sitting here, you know."
"Sorry," Kana said, her expression clouding with even more guilt. "I'm the only one enjoying this. The scenery outside is so amazing—nothing like what you'd see on the Moon. I could watch it forever and never get tired."
"…That's great."
I felt my guess might have been off, but I switched gears and spoke my true feelings. "As long as you're having fun, Kana, that's enough for me."
"That's not enough for me," Kana said firmly. "If I'm the only one enjoying this, it's just fleeting pleasure. I don't want short-lived pleasure—I want happiness. And for happiness, you need to enjoy this with me, Neo-kun."
"But I'm having fun," I said, feeling a bit exasperated but layering my honest feelings into my words. Still, they didn't seem to reach her.
"You're just feeling good because of *my* enjoyment, right? I want you to enjoy this situation on your own, completely separate from me."
"But all I can see is your profile, Kana. That's more than enough for me. It's vast, beautiful, a landscape too much for my eyes."
"Then how about this?"
Kana's expression grew even more stubborn. "Enjoy it *for me*."
"For you?"
"Yes."
The moment I heard those words, my heart suddenly leapt.
*I see. That's how it works.*
Through Kana, it felt like anything could become enjoyable. It was a vivid discovery, like acquiring a new tool.
"Alright," I said. "I'll try to enjoy it. But I can't see what's invisible to me, so there's only so much I can do. What do you think I should do, Kana?"
"Hmm."
Kana thought for 0.1 seconds, then called out to the emperor penguin passing by. "Excuse me! We want to see outside the whale. Is there a window or something?"
"There are no windows," the penguin replied matter-of-factly.
Kana pressed further. "Then how can someone who can only see visible light look outside?"
"Just go outside," the penguin answered simply.
Kana's eyes sparkled. "We can go outside? Outside the whale?"
"Yes. You can climb up to the whale's head, like going to a rooftop."
"How do we get up there? Are there stairs?"
"No, you go through the blowhole—the part where it spouts air or steam. Want to try it?"
"Yes, we want to!"
Kana nodded eagerly, and the penguin pressed a switch on the edge of our sofa, shaped like a bus stop button.
Instantly, a deep silence spread through the cabin.
It wasn't as intense as the whale's overwhelming silence from before, but it was still a dense quiet that filled the space. Then, the whale's mouth slowly began to open.
From the slight gap, debris like satellite wreckage flooded in like a tsunami, swirling through the cabin. At first, I worried we'd get hurt if it hit us, but the debris was soft, melting together like jelly, causing no pain upon contact.
Gradually, the debris dissolved further, raising the water level inside the cabin and lifting Kana and me with its buoyancy.
Soon, our entire bodies were submerged in the debris-mixed water, and I felt a sensation like being sucked in. As the whirlpool's speed increased, causing slight dizziness, I held Kana's hand tightly, enduring the momentum.
It felt like enjoying a thrilling ride at a water park. Spinning around, we somehow rose to just below the whale's head.
Looking up, I saw a manhole-like hole gaping open.
It was like peering into a well with its lid removed, dazzling light streaming in. Reflecting on my past self, unable to distinguish between pleasure and happiness, like a frog at the bottom of a well, I gripped Kana's hand tightly.
And then, we were sucked through that hole, out into the world beyond the whale.