Fish, a Girl, and a Boy

This is a contest entry for the June topic at ThatTime, Summer Festivals.

Title: What's Her Name?

The night was increasingly growing darker, and the villagers began closing up their festival booths, each of them ready for a long, deep sleep. The festival had been a great success, but as the stars overhead began to seemingly increase in number, by contrast, people began to dwindle in number. Miroku, the son of one of the nation's most talented -and most lecherous- monks, began to tire and begged his father to return to the temple, where Hachi had promised to prepare a nice, warm cup of milk for the boy. The young father, whose eyes had also begun to droop, quickly acquiesed to the young boy's pleas and led him by the hand.

However, not all of the festival participants were ready to pack up and go home. The last booth, supervised by an old man named Gakurei, was a fishing booth, open to any passerby who had a little change to spare. The art of festival fishing was a precise one; fish too aggressively, and the fishing hoop would rip, but fish too conservatively, and the fish would continually swim too fast to be caught. The difficulty of festival fishing made it one of the most lucrative booths around; most of the participants were confident young men, eager to catch a goldfish or two for their date. Few succeeded, and while that made running the booth quite dull, Gakurei had to admit that the money earned was more than enough to make up for it. As it was, Gakurei was always the last booth to pack up, since those who failed at festival fishing had the habit of returning a couple of hours later, desiring to feed their dissatisfied egos.

Nevertheless, this year, rather than his trademark blank gaze, Gakurei's face was a picture of pure astonishment, and his eyes both twinkled with fascination and merriment. A young girl kneeled beside his fish tank, her eyes carefully following the movement of the remaining fish in the tank. A couple of hours back, this young girl had approached the old man's booth, asking to play.

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"Ojii-san, I don't have any money, but can I play?" The young girl pleaded, "I just want to have one hoop... I'll trade you this little bag of exterminating powder for it! Please?" Clothed in a light pink robe, the child held up a small, burgundy bag, offering it to the old man.

Amused, Gakurei chuckled. "Of course, little girl. I'll offer you even more; if your hoop breaks on the first try, I'll let you have another one for free. It's hard to get the right feeling for festival fishing. If I may ask, what's your name?" Gakurei held out a small fishing hoop for the little girl.

Responding first with a squeal, the girl beamed and replied, "I'm Sango! Thank you so much, ojii-san!" Her attention now focused on the fish that were darting around in the wooden tank. Sango readied herself, her brow furrowed and eyes gleaming.

Suddenly, her little hand struck the water, with such a speed that the surface was hardly disturbed. Before Gakurei could blink and marvel at Sango's agility, the little girl held up her hoop, now complete with a thrashing goldfish. "Can I have a baggie now, ojii-san?" Sango implored, a serious look on her face.

The old man was delighted. A little girl, who couldn't have been more than six years old, had managed to catch a goldfish on her first try. Laughing heartily, the Gakurei replied, "Of course, child," and handed the girl a bag filled with water. "You should continue," he urged in his raspy voice, "Who knows? You might catch all of the fish!"

Sango smiled brightly again, and she nodded fervently. After an hour had passed, a large majority of the fish were already in baggies, and a large crowd of both children and adults had gathered around the fishing prodigy. The generous young girl even offered to give away most of her fish, handing each child around her a small baggie containing two goldfish. 'What a dear,' Gakurei thought fondly, 'To work so hard to catch all of her fish, and yet to give them away to other children and spread her happiness around. This child is really something.'

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Now, the tank had a mere two fish remaining, and the crowd of marveling villagers had dispersed. Sango, whose face seemed to be permanently flushed with excitement, easily scooped up the remaining pair of fish, which Gakurei quickly slipped into the last water-filled baggie. The young girl wiped off her forehead, which had been covered with small beads of sweat, and sighed with satisfaction. Whether to commemorate her success, or just out of curiosity, Sango tore the paper off of the fragile hoop. "You're right!" she exclaimed to Gakurei, "This hoop really IS fragile!" The old man chuckled merrily.

"Here you go," he said, handing the tied baggie to Sango. The girl giggled and squealed, her high voice permeating the night.

Hearing the excited giggle, Miroku turned around to look for the source of the noise. Finding the culprit to be a young girl, Miroku marveled at her flushed face and wide smile. Without knowing it, his face quickly exceeded the light blush on Sango's face, and Miroku began to resemble a small radish. The little monk couldn't tear his gaze away from the little angel holding a bag of fish. Tugging on his father's sleeve, Miroku asked, "Can we go there, otou-san? I want to play too!"

The tall monk looked over at the source of Miroku's excitement and examined the young girl. 'So,' he thought to himself, 'that must be the young child the exterminator village was bragging about. She appears to be quite bright... perhaps, in a few years--'

The monk's thoughts were interrupted by a stronger tug on his robes. "Alright, Miroku, let's go see what she's up to!" Father and son quickly hurried over to the booth, but to Miroku's dismay, there were no more fish to catch. The child's eyes began to glimmer, a hint of tears to come.

Sango noticed Miroku's disappointment, and with her bright smile, spoke to the little monk. "Hey, don't be sad! I have two fish right here... you can have them!"

Miroku looked over at Sango, a look of amazement on his face. Dazed, he accepted the bag of fish, never once taking his gaze off of the young girl.

Another child's voice called out from the distance. "Oneechan! Otou-san says it's time to go home!"

"Okay, Kohaku!" Sango replied. Turning to Miroku, she giggled and said, "I'm sorry, but my father needs me now... but take good care of the fish for me, okay?" The young girl then ran off in the direction of her little brother.

Still as flushed as ever, Miroku spoke in an undertone. "What's your name...?"

But the little girl was already out of sight.