[Short Story] Spilling Over

More than the aquarium's most popular dolphin show, I prefer watching the sardines swimming all in the same direction. The way they swim, twisting their silver-shining bodies just a little. My friend, watching me stare at them, asks, "What's so interesting about that?"
It's not about whether it's interesting or not; I just like watching them.
Because it feels like the sediment accumulated deep in my heart is flowing away along with them.
After a while, I find myself back in a place where I can think, "Well, that's fine."

As I stared at the tank, I spotted one fish moving differently from the rest. It was trying to swim against the current. Another sardine's tail struck that sardine sharply. It felt like I could hear a voice saying, "Hey, you're in the way." If it doesn't return to the flow quickly, it will spill out of the silver light.

I held my breath as I watched that sardine.
The sardine that had been struck by the tail seemed to wobble and sink just a little. But then, it started swimming along with the current again. I could no longer tell which one it was.

I am like that sardine. Sometimes, the school becomes suffocating.
When I wonder why I am swimming in a place like this,
I stop the limbs I had been moving so desperately until then, and quietly drift away from the school.
Because I felt like I could breathe more freely that way.

What if I were found by a large fish? Just imagining it made my chest ache, and my breath turned cold.

Even if it's painful, the school helps me. But it's suffocating. At times like that, I drift away just a little. I take a slow, deep breath, and then return. "Hey, wait for me," I call out to the school. I have to go back quickly, or I'll be left behind.

"Nagi! How long are you going to keep watching? Let's go, the dolphin show is about to start."

My friend's voice snaps me back to reality.
I start to walk away, then quietly look back at the tank.
A silver light flashed.