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Eiji isn’t allowed pets. Oishi has his fish, and the kid has his cat, but Eiji’s father and older sister are allergic to animals, and Eiji’s mother refuses to let him have fish on the grounds that she’ll be the one who ends up looking after them.
Eiji has quietly accepted this for years, content to spend his evenings as Oishi’s house, watching the fish and naming any new additions to the tank. Then his Biology teacher mentions a type of shrimp called Sea Monkeys, and after some research Eiji declares he must have them
He reasons with his mother; ‘they’re not fish, they’re fish. They’re really easy to look after; even I can do it!’ he assures her. ‘And they won’t make Dad’s or Aoi’s allergies act up, either!’
She eventually caves after a week of pestering, and Eiji delightedly regales Oishi with the story over a miso special at the quaint little ramen shack close to their train station.
“They’re the coolest thing ever; they’re like these tiny, tiny shrimp that’ve been dried out or something, and when you put them in water they hatch and- they’re like fish only cooler.” He decides, fishing in his bowl for any remaining pork. Oishi just shakes his head fondly, and puts his last piece of pork in Eiji’s bowl when he’s not looking.
He has to order them in from America, and Eiji’s mother grows so fed up with his impatience that she sends him over to annoy Fuji for the rest of the evening. Unfortunately Fuji doesn’t appreciate the excitement of owning a tank full of brine shrimp, preferring his cacti, and so Eiji has to keep his plans for his new pets to himself.
The day his package arrives, Eiji’s late home; celebrating a win with Seigaku’s tennis team invariably runs late, and Eiji’s still a little giggly from the single glass of hot sake he’d had behind his captain’s back, when Oishi drops him home.
“Eiji, parcel for you!” His mother calls to him as he toes off his shoes in the hallway. “It’s in the kitchen.”
He tears the cardboard box to near shreds in his excitement, tripping up the stairs in his haste and shoulders his door open. He’s only mildly disappointed to discover that he can’t actually hatch his new pets until the next day, but regardless he goes to bed excited, having sent Oishi a picture of the bright blue water after he added the disinfectant.
Oishi comes over the next evening; Eiji spends most of it staring at the clock on his desk waiting for the hour he can finally add the eggs. Oishi ends up doing Eiji’s homework for him, while Eiji rolls around impatiently on his bed.
By the time the third day rolls around and they still haven’t hatched, Eiji’s patience is wearing thin. He’s ashamed to admit his frustration has managed to distract him to such an extent that he misses a ball in double practice, and Tezuka doesn’t even have to open his mouth before Eiji sets off on self-induced laps. He maybe does too many, but Oishi’s waiting with a towel, water and a wry smile as Eiji finishes his twentieth, patting Eiji on the shoulder.
They have Eiji’s house to themselves that evening, but nothing really happens because a few of the Sea Monkeys have hatched and sends Eiji into excitement-induced near-hysteria. Oishi sighs in exasperation, leaning back against the headboard as Eiji lifts his tank up to the light to try and catch a glimpse.
Eventually his over-excitement dies down. He may be interested in Biology, but he grudgingly admits to Oishi one day that they aren’t as cool as fish; in fact they don’t really do anything, and they aren’t as pretty.
That of course doesn’t mean that Eiji isn’t absolutely distraught when his mother knocks them over a few months later. He grieves for precisely two days, until Oishi takes him to a tiny rainforest-themed café and Eiji decides he wants stick insects. Oishi drops his head into his hands while Eiji looks them up on his phone, and lets out a long-suffering sigh.