Chapter 4

1 It was during summer vacation, at the end of July, when the symptoms of my illness started appearing and I lost consciousness for the first time. It was a few days after I’d gone on a date with Minami to the zoo. Until then, there hadn’t been any serious abnormalities, and I’d been able to go about my life as usual. I didn’t have to be scared of making promises. I was free to go wherever I wanted. Nothing held me back from doing what I normally did. But a lot changed when the symptoms began. That day, when I passed out for the first time, I could sense it was going to happen, just as the doctor had told me. My body temperature had been low when I’d woken up in the morning. I’d been measuring my temperature every day, but that was the first time there had been a clear dip. Feeling uneasy, I sat down at the breakfast table and told my parents about my temperature. The room went quiet for a moment. “Okay. By the way, Makoto, what do you want for lunch today, somen or soba noodles?” Dad asked casually, making breakfast in the kitchen. Mom didn’t sound shaken, either. “Maybe I’ll get noodles for lunch, too,” she said, not taking her eyes off the newspaper. Both of them kept composed and talked to me without making a fuss. Honestly, I was grateful for that—thanks to them, I could take things at my own pace. There’s a condition called narcolepsy that makes you fall asleep without warning. Like narcolepsy, my disease made me suddenly lose consciousness. The further the illness progressed, the more frequently I would black out and the longer I would stay unconscious. From the middle to terminal stages of my disease, I would be unconscious for several weeks at a time, and once I passed a certain point, I would spend more time unconscious than awake. However, I wouldn’t notice symptoms daily until I got to the terminal stage. It wasn’t an exact science, but there were different signs that I could watch out for on the morning it would happen and immediately before passing out. After letting my parents know about my low temperature, I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, feeling jumpy the whole time. I was nervous as I went to the toilet, too, thinking how pathetic it would be if I blacked out there. I managed to make it to the breakfast table, but when I thought about the doctor’s instructions to spit out whatever I was eating so I wouldn’t choke if I fainted during a meal, I completely lost my appetite. Even though the food Dad cooked was always healthy and delicious, I just couldn’t bring myself to eat. In the end, all I could stomach was some miso soup. When it was time for Mom to leave for work, Dad and I saw her off at the door. She looked back at me one last time before leaving, but she just smiled and said, “See you later,” without mentioning anything more serious. I knew it was only because she thought I’d rather not talk about it; inside, she must have really been hurting. We had an agreement with the doctor that whenever there was a warning sign of an impending blackout, I would go to the hospital so they could examine me for their research, so I got ready to leave. Dad called the hospital, and I texted Minami to let her know that I wouldn’t be able to make it to the club meeting after school. When we were both ready, we got in the car. I leaned the passenger seat all the way back so if I passed out on our way to the hospital, I wouldn’t hit my head. The car quietly rolled out into the road. We’d already decided beforehand that we would avoid calling an ambulance unless it was necessary; we didn’t want to take it away from people who were in life-threatening situations. I already had an action plan of what to do and where to go on the days with warning signs. Still, my heart was pounding with anxiety. We reached the hospital, and while Dad was signing in at the reception desk, the nurse brought out a wheelchair for me to preempt any falls. With the nurse pushing me, Dad and I headed to the room I’d been assigned. Getting wheeled around was a pretty heavy blow to me psychologically; it made me feel completely helpless. The private room was equipped with a bedside medical monitor, and as soon as I saw it, my body tensed up. The nurse told me that they had to gather data immediately before and after I lost consciousness, so I got changed into a patient’s gown and let them attach the sensors to my body. Somehow, I felt a sudden urge to see Minami. I wanted to go back to our clubroom. I was sitting on the bed when my doctor came in. She had a quick chat with me and Dad, then took a sample of my blood. After that, she let us be by ourselves. I knew Dad had brought his work laptop with him, so I told him not to worry about me and that he should feel free to do some work. “All right,” he said with a nod. He opened up his laptop on the desk, but just when I thought he’d started working, he turned around and said, “Hey, how about a game? I brought cards.” He had a deck of cards in his hand. I couldn’t believe he’d actually brought it from home, and I let out a laugh but then shook my head no. “All right, then,” he said, smiling sheepishly as he turned back to his laptop. I lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I could hardly do anything but endure the passage of time, wondering when my consciousness would be snatched away from me. One hour went by. Then two. Time felt heavy and slow. But nothing happened. Eventually, it was time for lunch. Even though I could feel my stomach rumbling, I was too scared to eat anything. I noticed Dad opening the backpack he’d brought with him, and I raised myself from the bed, wondering what was in there. He handed me a cooler bag. I opened it to find a round bento box with an ice pack and a small thermos bottle. The bento was packed with my favorite kinshi tamago—shredded egg strips—as well as julienned ham and cucumber on top of a neat ball of somen noodles. I was stunned. “There’s homemade broth for the noodles in the thermos,” Dad said with a smile. “I figured noodles might be easier for you to eat.” Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. When Dad had asked me what I wanted for lunch that morning, I couldn’t even answer him. I hadn’t realized what he’d wanted to do. Even so, he’d thought about what would be best for me and made me something that would be easy to swallow. I poured some broth over the somen, picked up the chopsticks, and put a few of the thin noodles in my mouth. I only had to chew a couple of times for the noodles to slip down my throat. I wasn’t scared to eat anymore. “It’s delicious, Dad,” I said. He grinned. “Glad to hear it.” He’d made himself the same lunch, and we finished our meals without incident. I didn’t feel anything yet. And just like that, another hour passed. I started thinking that it all might’ve just been in my head. Had I just imagined the warning signs? Had I fabricated the whole disease? If that was true, I’d have nothing to fear. I could keep seeing Minami. I could keep making movies with the club. I could talk about the future with Minami, try to figure out which college to go to or what to major in, and we could study hard for our exams together… If only I could do things like that. It would fill me with hope. I was shaken by my own thoughts. I dreamed of spending days living an ordinary, run-of-the-mill life. But I had to face it: I was sick, and there was nothing I could do about it. It wasn’t just a figment of my imagination. Suddenly, the faintness arrived. My vision wavered. Everything blurred over. I tried to trick myself into thinking it was just some dust in my eyes, but a biting chill ran through my body. I felt cold, yet I could feel myself sweating. It was ruthless. I recognized the signs I’d heard about. “Dad…I’m sorry.” I squeezed out the words, desperately trying to let him know what was happening. Sweat beaded on all my pores, even though I was shivering with cold. I heard Dad’s voice echoing somewhere far away. “Makoto! Makoto!” When I woke up, I was completely disoriented. The ceiling light was bright above me. I saw that I was in the hospital, and noticed it was dark outside. Time had skipped ahead, and I had trouble getting my thoughts in order. “Makoto! You’re awake!” I looked around to find Dad nearby and realized that I was lying in bed. “Dad…” He wasn’t alone; Mom was standing next to him, watching me with concern. I almost apologized, but I knew that would only make them sad. I might be unable to stop making them both feel miserable, but I hadn’t been born to bring sorrow to the people around me. I wanted to laugh—I wanted to make everyone laugh. So instead, I said, “Good morning—er, night.” It was the best joke I could muster. The mood relaxed a little, and my parents’ expressions softened. “Morning, Makoto. Or good night,” Dad replied. “What a sleepyhead you are,” Mom said. Apparently, I’d been out for about six hours. My parents had talked to the doctor while I was unconscious; unfortunately, my illness was clearly progressing. Since the doctor had already collected the data they needed for their research, I was free to go, so the three of us headed home. That was how the symptoms I’d been dreading began to appear. I had to find a way to live with my condition—and this became my mission in what was left of my life. But I had a feeling that once I got the hang of it, it might not be so hard to make things work. The blackouts came suddenly, but there would always be warning signs in the morning. As long as I stayed away from school or the club on those days, it would inconvenience the people around me as little as possible. I could still keep my illness a secret. Though it still made me anxious, I managed to deal with the second blackout better than the first. The third time as well. I checked into the hospital for my examinations, and Mom came to pick me up the day after. I tried to cheer her up. People can get used to anything, given time. That was what I learned. I also learned the hard way that if you get too used to something, it can trip you up when you least expect it. 2 It happened right around Obon, when we were more than halfway through summer vacation. Hayami had told me to come meet her at a café. A lot had happened between us in the lead-up to that, and I’d even said to her, “When the time comes, I’ll break up with Minami. So don’t worry.” I’d already been resolved to end things with Minami around the time my symptoms started appearing. There was no doubt that the sickness was eating away at my body, and I knew there would come a day when I wouldn’t be able to go to school at all. I was going to tell everyone that I was moving somewhere far away and disappear from school when things got to that point. I’d break up with Minami, using the move as an excuse. It might make her sad at first, but it had to be better than finding out that I was dying. But I’d been careless to say what I’d said to Hayami. It made her suspicious, so I had to meet up with her to talk about it. I preferred not to make plans with anyone if I could help it, but this time, I had no choice. I was scared to measure my temperature that morning. I told myself that as long as the results were normal, everything would be fine—but life is cruel sometimes. My temperature was low: a clear warning sign. I should’ve canceled my meeting with Hayami right then and there. But up until that point, my blackouts had always happened in the afternoon, and we’d agreed to meet in the morning. Though my disease was progressing, I still felt healthy; it wasn’t as if I was physically weak. I could go to talk with Hayami in the morning, come back home before noon, and then go to the hospital. I thought I could handle that much. Without telling my parents about my low temperature, I went to the café. Hope and fear churned inside my gut in equal measure: hope that everything would be okay and fear of what would happen if I collapsed in front of her. I felt relieved when I got to the café. All I had to do now was chat with Hayami, then go home. I could tell my parents I’d forgotten to measure my temperature that morning, then take it at noon instead and tell them it was low. After a bit of small talk, Hayami asked me what I’d meant about breaking up with Minami. So I’d lied to her about transferring to another school in the winter. Right after that, it struck. I felt faint, and everything went blurry. As I felt a chill grip my body, I instantly regretted my decision to come. I should’ve known better. Still, it was just that one time; I thought I’d be able to explain it away, tell her I used to get sick a lot when I was little, and that it was the heat that had made me pass out… Ten days before the end of summer break, when Hayami asked me at the park whether I was actually going to die, it caught me off guard. I tried to sweep it under the rug, but in the end, even that failed. And then, for the first time since we met, we talked openly and laughed together without holding anything back. That was also the first time I’d told a friend about my diagnosis. Hayami was stunned. I felt so helpless, knowing that all I could do was shock and upset the people around me, but letting her in on my secret led to something I’d never expected. “People who don’t have much longer to be happy shouldn’t be so quick to give up on that happiness,” she’d told me. “I’ll help—not for your sake, but because it’s the right thing to do for a fellow person. And for Tsubasa, so she won’t have to grieve.” Hayami became my co-conspirator, helping me keep my secret. Having her on my side made a big difference, since I wanted to keep going to school like a normal kid for as long as possible. After that day, Hayami always stayed by my side whenever we were at the club. But my disease was progressing faster than I’d expected. It was October, and the cool autumn weather had arrived when I realized just how bad my condition had become. I passed out in the clubroom after school. I’d measured my temperature that morning, and it had been normal, so I felt confident going to school and staying for club activities. We’d discovered an issue with the script during filming, so Hayami and I were revising it in the clubroom by ourselves. All of a sudden, I felt the strength leave my body, and I got strangely dizzy. The whole room blurred. A familiar chill came over me, and I broke out in a sweat. I panicked and felt like crying. Why now? I should’ve been okay today. Hayami had noticed immediately and shouted my name. When I came to, I was lying in a bed in the hospital. The sky was starting to lighten, and Dad was asleep on the sofa in my room, sitting up with his arms crossed. I didn’t want to wake him, but I did anyway, and we alerted the nurse that I’d regained consciousness. Soon the doctor came to give me a thorough examination. Though the details were unclear, the disease was advancing more rapidly than they’d predicted. She told me that from now on, I should check my temperature not just in the morning, but during the day as well. Before the examination, I’d read through the messages I’d got while I was unconscious. I was worried about what might have happened in the clubroom after I passed out, but apparently, the school nurse and Hayami had covered for me. I couldn’t thank them enough. Hayami’s message included some crucial information, and I read and reread it so I didn’t miss anything: “I had to come up with something to cover for you with Tsubasa, so I said you’ve been trying to hide the fact that you’ve got insomnia.” “I told her that your insomnia medicine has severe side effects, so once you fall asleep, it’s hard for you to wake up again. And when that happens, your whole body goes cold.” “That’s the story Tsubasa believes now.” The way Minami looked at me changed a little after that, most likely because she was worried. She seemed careful not to tire me out as well. I felt bad putting her through all that, but at least I’d avoided the worst-case scenario of her finding out about my illness. I had to keep it a secret at all costs; the last thing I wanted to do was to upset her. Even so, I ended up making her sad because of something else… “Um…Makoto, do you want to go out with me on Sunday? We’ve both been busy lately, so we haven’t gone anywhere. I…I’d like to go to the amusement park with you.” At the end of October, Minami asked me out on a date to the amusement park. We’d gone out a few times since we first started dating, including during summer break, but ever since my blackouts started, I hadn’t been able to do much more than hang out with her after club meetings. When Minami invited me out that day, she looked uncharacteristically nervous. She was usually carefree, the kind of person who said whatever popped into her head—but in that moment, she seemed anxious as she waited for my response. I didn’t know what to do. I knew that the most sensible answer was to say no. But when I saw how shy she looked, expectantly waiting for my answer, I just couldn’t bring myself to turn her down. I thought Hayami might get mad at me for agreeing to go on a date, but she was supportive when I talked to her about it later. “If that’s what you want to do, Tsukishima, then don’t feel like you have to restrict yourself. Just…don’t give up on your own happiness, okay? I get that it was hard to say no, and that’s partly on me for not shutting it down straightaway.” She encouraged me to be optimistic and see what happened on the day. If all went well, I might be able to go on the date without any trouble—it wouldn’t hurt to hope for that small happiness, at least. She said she’d back me up if anything went wrong. Her words gave me courage. On the day of the outing, I checked my temperature, praying for a good number. It turned out to be low. Disappointment and sadness washed over me, and I didn’t want to believe it—but I had to face up to the facts and act fast. I picked up my phone to let Hayami know and come up with plan B. I felt drained as I called her number, probably due to the emotional shock of it all. Hayami was as crestfallen as if I was canceling on her, but she immediately came up with a plan. “Could you tell Tsubasa that something urgent came up?” she asked. “I’ll take care of the rest.” But just then, I started feeling lightheaded and realized I was about to black out. I cursed the bad timing—I hadn’t even gotten around to contacting Minami yet. My eyes went out of focus, sweat covered my body, and I lost all sense of what I had to do. “Hey, are you okay? Don’t tell me—Tsukishima? Tsukishima!” I woke up in the hospital, back again in my usual room. A bitter, frustrated laugh escaped me. The clock showed it was around four o’clock in the afternoon, and my parents were close by my bedside. They pressed the call button, and while waiting for the doctor and nurses to come, Mom handed me my phone. I had a lot of notifications: a handful from Minami, and the rest from Hayami. I learned that Hayami had raced to my house to check on me right after our call. She told my parents that she knew about my condition, and the three of them found me unconscious in my room. And that wasn’t all. Hayami had then rushed to the square in front of the train station where Minami was waiting for me and told her that I’d gotten into a traffic accident with a motorbike. To make it sound even more convincing, she explained the situation to her mother, a nurse, who also talked to Minami about it. Now wasn’t the time to wallow in my own grief—Hayami had done so much for me, and even her mother had gone out of her way to help. First, I texted her to let her know I’d woken up. Then I called Minami from a public phone inside the hospital, since my phone was supposed to have been broken in the accident. Minami sounded relieved to hear my voice. I slipped up a little when I said a scooter had hit me instead of a motorbike, but we chatted and joked about for a little while and promised we’d see each other soon at school. Later that day, when everything had settled down, Hayami messaged me: “Tsubasa was really worried when you didn’t show up. She said she thought something must’ve happened to you because you’re not the type to break a promise. I should’ve been more careful. Sorry I didn’t stop you.” Hayami had nothing to apologize for—I was the one who’d made the wrong call. I knew that I would soon have to decide how and when to withdraw from my life at school. 3 The examinations took longer than expected, so I also ended up spending the day afterward in the hospital, but by Tuesday, I was well enough to go back to school. I went to see Minami, apologized about Sunday, then asked her if she wanted to go to the amusement park that very same day. I knew there was only a small chance I’d pass out that day, and more than anything else, I had something important to tell her. Minami was taken aback, but she was excited to come with me. Hayami ended up tagging along, too, and we all skipped school together. The three of us had so much fun. I checked my temperature in the afternoon, but there was nothing abnormal about it, so I stayed until the evening. We finished the day with a ride on the Ferris wheel, and once we were back on the ground, Minami and I had a moment to talk by ourselves. I finally told her what I’d been meaning to: that I was going to be moving overseas that winter with my family. I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t hurt me to tell her that, but it was just something I’d had to do. Since the news came without any warning, it hit her hard. I might’ve just imagined it, but I got the feeling she wanted to try to convince me to stay. Then Hayami came to the rescue once again: “Even if we can’t make movies together, that’s only going to be for a year or so, right?” I was a little confused at first. Hayami knew the truth, so I didn’t understand why she would make plans for the future, but I went along with it and said that I’d come back to Japan for college. Luckily, Minami believed me. That night, after I got home, I called Hayami to ask what why she’d said that. “It was for Tsubasa… She really likes you more than you think, Tsukishima,” Hayami said, her voice heavy with worry and sadness. “If you end the relationship because you’re moving, you’ll break her heart. It’s all happening so quickly, so there’s a good chance she won’t be able to give up on you. I’m guessing she was about to say she wants you to stay. So I tried to convince her that it was only until we get to college that you’ll have to be apart.” I listened to Hayami without saying a word. “People forget about things. With enough time, they move on,” she went on unflinchingly. “That’s just the way it is… So if you and Tsubasa are in a long-distance relationship, eventually you’ll talk less and less, until you gradually fade out of each other’s lives. That way, Tsubasa can let you go little by little. I’ll help out, and I’ll be there for her. Maybe it’s harsh, but I’ll tell her that you’ve found your own little world somewhere else.” Hayami laid out a well-considered plan to pull it off, asking me to give her my password for the messaging app. She offered to reply to Tsubasa for me so we wouldn’t have a repeat of what happened before—even after I died. When I thought about how much of a burden Hayami would have to carry, I couldn’t answer her at first, but she ended up talking me around. I gave her the passcode for my phone, too, in case there was some sort of emergency. I was running out of time; I had to prepare myself for what was to come. Considering the possibility that my illness might keep advancing faster than expected, I told the school and my parents that I would stop coming within the year, and the school agreed to announce that I was moving away with my family. I told Ena and Ichika about leaving, too. A little of the weight lifted from my shoulders once I’d told everyone. Whenever my body temperature got low in the afternoon and I had to go home early, I could use it as an excuse: that I had to get ready for the move. My disease continued to progress, and by November, there were times when I would stay unconscious for days at a time. The doctor told me that there was a chance the illness could enter the terminal stage before the year was out. I felt content, though. I could still make movies with everyone and be with Minami. There was nothing more I wanted. One day, I woke up in the hospital at night. I heard the gentle sound of rain outside. When I checked my phone, I noticed a strange message Minami had sent to me. “Where are you right now, Makoto?” “I’m at home. Why?” Hayami had been replying for me. Like a true screenwriter, she could write in my voice seamlessly. Her texts sounded exactly like me. I was a bit puzzled to see that Minami had waited a while before replying. “This is Tsubasa. I’m standing outside your house.” “What?” “Just kidding. Did I spook you? It’s raining today, so I thought it might sound like something out of a horror movie.” “You made me look out the window. I thought I’d see you getting drenched.” “If this was an old-timey movie, we’d be holding on to each other in the rain. Wanna give it a go?” “Nah. We’d both catch a cold.” I read all the way through the messages and was relieved to see that nothing had happened. There didn’t seem to be anything suspicious going on; the pause between Minami’s replies must’ve been unrelated. When I texted Hayami that I was awake now, she told me that things had gone as usual. The way she described that—“as usual”—made me think of day after day going by without change. I was gradually getting farther away from that reality. But that was exactly why I was so glad when I could go to school and show up at the clubroom like I used to. I lived every day like there would be no tomorrow. I got by somehow, surrounded by people who cared about me and supported me. I managed to keep going like that until the end of November. Yet I was hitting my limit. It was getting hard to go to school, both physically and emotionally, so I decided I’d done enough. Not only was my time in school over—so was the time I got to spend with Minami… A few days before the start of December, I was well enough to go to the club after school. I helped out with their filming, and we carried the equipment back to the clubroom. After we finished putting everything away, I told them what I’d gone there to say. “Sorry, I know this is really out of the blue, but my parents had to reschedule our move, so we’ll be leaving Japan before the end of the year. And…I’ll have a lot of stuff to do starting tomorrow, and things are going to get really hectic, so…” Thank you, and good-bye. I got to live a happy life right up until the very end, and it’s all thanks to you. You’ve all been so kind, warm, and all-around amazing. I can’t thank you enough. I might not have said that out loud, but I let my voice carry how I really felt. “So I can’t come to school anymore,” I said. I felt at ease, free of regrets. “This will be my last day in the filmmaking club.” A hush fell over the room. The only sounds I could hear were the hum of the heater and the laptop. The first one to break the silence was Ichika. “Really? You have to leave so soon?” I didn’t want to be too dramatic, so I just looked at her, hoping the extent of my gratitude showed across my face. Thank you for everything, Ichika. I was worried about a lot of things when I first joined the club, but you made sure I felt comfortable here—that made such a big difference. I’ll never forget your kindness. “Aw, that’s a shame. I can’t believe today’s your last day,” Ena said. I turned to face Ena. It was truly an honor to act alongside you as your co-star. I wonder what the future holds for you. That’s not for me to find out, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed that you have a brilliant career. “Geez, Tsukishima, what is it with you and last-minute news?” Hayami let out an exasperated sigh—but it was all an act: I’d already confided in her about this in private. I exchanged a look with her. No words can convey how grateful I am to you, Hayami. If not for you, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. Sorry for giving you so much trouble. But thank you for everything. Finally, I turned to look at Minami, wondering whether I’d find shock or sadness on her face. “You’ve done so much for us, Makoto. Thank you.” It wasn’t what I’d expected at all—she was smiling. I was taken aback, but then I noticed Minami was trying hard to put up a brave front. I hated seeing her like that. My words got stuck in my throat, but I forced myself to speak. “Sorry it’s so sudden.” “Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. If your parents have to leave earlier, there’s nothing you can do.” She flashed me another smile. There was a soft glow to it that reminded me of another smile she’d given me long ago. “Whoa, for once you sound like a grown-up, Tsubasa,” Hayami quipped. “Now, that’s our leader,” Ena chimed in. Thanks to the two of them, the mood in the clubroom was already brightening up. Minami turned toward them, grinning. “Someone once said that at a time like this, a real lady puts on a smile and sees a man off without complaint.” “Huh? Who said that?” Hayami asked. “An actress from an old movie.” “That explains why it sounds so dated.” “Wait, what? You think it sounds dated?” “N-no, it didn’t, Tsubasa!” Ichika cut in. “It just didn’t make any sense!” “You’re not really helping, Ichika,” Ena teased. We all laughed, and I could feel my relief spreading through my body. Minami seemed to relax and revert to her usual self. She talked about what it was like when I’d first joined the club, cheerfully recounting some stories from our time together. I reminisced as well, enjoying my final day here with everyone. They started talking about seeing me off before I left Japan. Ena and Ichika said they wanted to come to the airport to see me, but luckily, Minami talked them out of it, saying that they’d probably just end up getting in my parents’ way. “Besides,” she added, “we’ll see him again in just a little over a year. Right, Makoto?” Hayami and I had already come up with a plan for what to do if the others started talking about seeing me off, but I was surprised that Minami jumped in to put a stop to it. I nodded back in reply. We spent the rest of the time chatting about the past six months, swapping stories excitedly. Whenever our eyes met, Minami gave me a gentle smile. It made me sad to think I’d never see them again. I wanted to spend more time together and keep walking the same path, even if we clashed every now and then. But my time for looking ahead at the future was at an end. From now on, I would be looking back at the past, recollecting fond memories. We were headed in different directions; their lives were ahead of them, while my death was ahead of me. “I’m really glad I met you all,” I said one last time. I tried to make it sound casual, not like a final good-bye. They all looked at me, and Minami answered for everyone. “We feel the same way—especially me. I’m so happy I met you, Makoto.” And so, I did what I had to do to leave school for good. I was ready to spend the rest of my days quietly without seeing any of them again—but something happened that neither I nor Hayami had foreseen. “Oh, by the way,” Ena said, “you said you’re flying out before the end of the year, but are you still going to be here for Christmas Eve? We have a party at mine every year. Do you think we could see you one last time before you go?” I wasn’t sure what to say. I’d been pretending that Christmas didn’t exist; I’d already given up any hope of doing anything special that day. It would’ve been great to have one last party with everyone, but in my current condition, I couldn’t make any promises. “That’s asking a lot, Ena,” Hayami interjected. “I’m sure Tsukishima has his own plans and stuff he’s got to do.” “Aww, it doesn’t hurt to ask,” Ena replied with a pout. I glanced over at Minami. She seemed to be taking a back seat, just watching the scene unfold. When she noticed me looking in her direction, she gave me a warm smile. “I probably can’t make it,” I murmured, a little downcast. “But…if it looks like I can come on the day, would it be okay for me to just turn up? Oh, I’m sure you have to get things ready, though, so I understand if that won’t work.” It might have been because there was something fragile, even melancholy, about Minami’s smile, but I just couldn’t help but cling to that one last scrap of hope. I lifted my gaze to look at the girls. Once my illness reached the terminal stage, I wouldn’t be able to cover it up. Regardless, even if my body betrayed me before Christmas, I still wanted to keep something to hope for. This was probably going to be my very last wish. “Of course you can. Feel free to pop by anytime!” Ena said, beaming. “Hope you can make it,” Ichika added. “Well,” Hayami said, watching me with a caring look in her eyes. “Only if you don’t push yourself too hard.” We took a group photo together, which Minami shared with me, and then it was time to go home. The five of us walked down the path to the school gate in the sunset. Everyone went their separate ways until eventually I was left alone with Minami. “Wanna walk with me for a while, Makoto?” Minami asked. She’d been growing quieter the closer we got to saying good-bye. I nodded, and we started walking in the opposite direction to the train station. We decided to go to a nearby park, and as we were walking side by side, Minami took my hand. Now that it was just the two of us, she didn’t talk much. She even stayed quiet while we sat on the bench in the park. But we could feel each other through our linked hands. Sometimes her hand squeezed more tightly around mine. Though she’d kept it hidden while the others were around, Minami seemed like she didn’t want to say good-bye. I squeezed hers back, hoping that I’d always remember the feeling of her hand in mine and our time together right now. Eventually, the sun dipped below the horizon, and dusk gathered around us. When I looked up, I saw stars starting to glimmer in the sky. I once read that the light we see from stars was actually emitted many, many years ago. There’s so much distance between the stars and the earth that it takes all that time for the light to reach us here, so what we’re actually seeing in the sky is the light from the past. Though I didn’t mind the silence between us, I found myself telling Minami about the stars, because I was going to become part of her past, too—though, of course, I didn’t say that last part out loud. I couldn’t help wishing that once in a while, she might remember the winter of her second year in senior high, when someone held her hand in a park and talked to her about starlight. “‘The light from the past,’ huh? That’s an interesting way to put it. It could be good in a movie.” “Are you sure you didn’t want to film that?” I asked playfully. Minami grinned. “I do want to film it, actually. Can you say it again?” She set up her phone on the bench and began filming under the night sky. I told her the same story again. By the time I’d finished, it was nearly seven, so I suggested we start heading home. We walked to the station, still holding hands, and passed through the ticket gate. We lived in opposite directions. My train was set to leave before hers, as if alluding to what was to come. Minami wanted to see me off, so she came with me to my platform. After a while, there was an announcement; my train had arrived. Passengers spilled out of the doors. I got on by myself, then turned around to face Minami, who was still on the platform. I hope you live a long life. I hope you fall in love a lot. I hope the little bit of bad luck I had brings you a lifetime of happiness. I hope your life will be full of joy and that you’ll never stop smiling. “See you,” I said finally. “Yup. See you,” Minami replied. The door shut between us, and the train rolled out of the platform, leaving her behind. I did it—I’d managed to keep from crying right up until the end. I hadn’t cried in front of Minami. Looking at my own tear-streaked face reflected in the window of the train door, I wished for her happiness with every fiber of my being. 4 The week after, I began staying at the hospital full-time. December had arrived, and almost nine months had passed since I’d first been given my diagnosis. Unfortunately, my disease was advancing at a steady rate. I hadn’t entered the terminal stage yet, but I would know the end was near when I stayed in a coma for several weeks. Even so, I had nothing more to worry about. I hadn’t left things too late; I’d managed to say good-bye to everyone before my sickness got too serious. And if I was lucky, I might even be able to see them at their Christmas Eve party. I knew it was a slim hope, but I clung onto it as my final wish. Many people came to see me in the hospital. It was a rare disease, so naturally, it attracted a lot of attention from researchers. I met with all kinds of doctors—young, old, even specialists who’d flown in from overseas. It wasn’t just medical people who came to visit, though. There was one person I knew well who paid me regular visits. “How’s it going, Tsukishima?” Hayami asked on one such occasion. It was nice that she always talked to me casually, as if I were perfectly healthy. We chatted about all sorts of things, and I asked her what was happening in the club and how Minami was doing. “Ena and Ichika are the same as always. And Tsubasa’s doing things at her own pace.” “That’s good. It sounds like nothing’s changed,” I said. “And the new film’s going well. I’ll bring you a DVD once it’s finished,” Hayami offered. However, the ward I was staying in was for patients in palliative care, intended as a quiet space for them to spend their remaining days. It was probably hospital policy, but neither my room nor the public lounge had a TV. “Don’t you get bored?” Hayami asked. “Well, I have my phone, at least. And I can chat with Minami while I’m awake.” “Whatever floats your boat, I guess. Here, I brought a DVD player you can attach to your phone, so you can watch stuff on that. I’ll even throw in some DVDs for you—my top picks.” Back when I’d first met Hayami, I never imagined we’d become such good friends. I took her up on her offer and borrowed the player along with the movies. And just like that, one more thing was added to my daily routine: watching films. Hayami asked for my phone, and she downloaded an app that linked to the player. I’d forgotten about one thing, though, and her eyes went wide when she saw my home screen. “Whoa. What’s going on? You’ve only got a messaging app and a calendar on your phone.” She was right—there was hardly anything on my phone now. I used to have apps for games, social media, and the news, but I’d wiped it clean at some point. “Well…I don’t really need it anymore.” “But…” “I don’t mean to sound bitter, but I just don’t want to see any of it. What’s happening in the world, what’s ahead in the future…” Because it’s all going to leave me behind. I finished the sentence in my head, unable even to say it out loud. It was probably the same reason why there wasn’t a single TV in this ward. Here, the patients were in a different world, set apart from the rest of society. The hustle and bustle of the outside world was irrelevant to us now, and being exposed to it would only torture us. Hayami was silent. I realized I shouldn’t have said that and tried to twist it into a joke. “So, that’s my life now. I feel like a grandpa. Though grandpas these days might get offended by that.” She saw what I was trying to do and let out a chuckle, a wry smile on her face. “Don’t go senile on me,” she said. “Wait, did I have lunch today?” “You’re in the hospital, Tsukishima. No way they’d forget about feeding you.” We talked some more after that, and she reassured me that I had nothing to worry about with Minami. I wasn’t worried, though; whenever I was out cold, Hayami would step in for me, replying to Minami without a hitch. I could count on her to pull it off even after I was gone. Hayami would let the relationship fizzle out—little by little, my replies would get more sporadic, and eventually we’d stop messaging altogether. My heart ached to imagine how sad and lonely Minami might feel when that happened, but it had to be less shocking than an abrupt ending. Thinking that brought me some comfort. Before we knew it, it was already sunset. I suggested Hayami head home before it got too dark, so she got up to leave. Just before she walked out the door, she turned around. “Uh, hey,” she said. I looked at her from the bed. It wasn’t like Hayami to be hesitant about something. “You know…if we told Tsubasa the whole truth, you might be able to spend more time with her. Don’t you want that?” Her question startled me. It was something I’d turned over in my head countless times: If I told Minami everything, we might be able to be together until my last breath… “No,” I said firmly, and Hayami looked taken aback. “Our plan is working—I’ll fade out of her life in the least painful way possible. I don’t want to drag her into my death and make her mourn for me.” Hayami stared at me wordlessly. Eventually, she looked down at her feet. “Stop it… It’s almost like you actually love her,” she murmured. I thought about it for a little while, then said, “It’s nothing that dramatic. She’s just precious to me.” Alone in my room again, I gazed out the window, still sitting up on my bed. I found myself thinking about death and other ideas that used to feel so vague and distant to me. Once the sun went down, the dark sky glimmered before my eyes, like that night Minami and I had sat together in the park. The light from the past was glittering in the sky. 5 Time seemed to go in circles rather than straight lines. I woke up, I killed time, I went to sleep. My days basically followed that pattern—the only difference was that on some days, I lost consciousness instead of actually falling asleep. When I was awake, I exchanged messages with Minami. In the world of those messages, I was just a high schooler getting ready to fly overseas, my life untouched by the shadow of illness. I watched the movies I’d borrowed from Hayami, too, and they often moved me to tears. My emotions hadn’t dried up at all—I could still sense the beauty in things. Sometimes I got sentimental and went back through old photos and videos I’d taken. I set my favorites as wallpapers on my phone, but Hayami teased me when she caught sight of it. Neither of us brought up the serious conversation from before. We just chatted about other things, like what we thought of the movies she’d brought. It was finally the week before Christmas. My condition hadn’t improved, but I did get one piece of news that cheered me up: My doctor gave me permission to go out on Christmas Eve, as long as there were no warning signs of a blackout. When I gave Hayami the verdict, she got excited for me, too. The days went by as I slipped in and out of consciousness, and eventually, December 20 rolled around. I took my temperature that morning, feeling nervous. I’d figured out a certain pattern to my blackouts—so far, the longest blackout I’d had was three days, and after each blackout, I wouldn’t pass out again for at least another two days. Which meant that if I lost consciousness on the twentieth or the twenty-first, there was a good chance that I’d be awake on Christmas Eve. The thermometer beeped. For the first time in my life, I prayed for the number to be low. Normally, I was disappointed whenever it was, but right now… Aware of my own throbbing pulse, I timidly checked the display. Colder than normal. I spent the rest of the morning filled with a growing hope. It was past noon when I felt the onset of a blackout. Except…something was off. It felt a bit different from all the times before. My whole body went limp, and I felt groggy—but I didn’t pass out immediately. The world kept swaying around me. I wasn’t sweating, either. In my muddled thoughts, I wondered what was going on and what these strange new symptoms might mean. I forced my sagging body to move just enough to press the call button to alert the nurses. Like a thread snapping, I lost consciousness. When I came to, I was lying in darkness. It felt like some sort of bad joke. I thought I must’ve died. But no, it was just dark in the room. I was alive, lying in my bed in the hospital. I should still have a few more months left in me. I wasn’t going to die so easily. I suddenly remembered to check the date on my phone. Although I shouldn’t have had any idea of how much time had passed while I was unconscious, I somehow had the feeling that it’d been a long time. My fingers nearly trembled as I touched my phone screen. December 24, 3:50 AM I stared at the date, forgetting to breathe. For a split second, I thought I’d slept through the party—but I hadn’t. I checked the time and date again and again, waiting for my brain to catch up. “I…I did it. I really did it.” My hoarse voice forced its way out. The tiny spark of recognition gradually spread all over my body, wrapping me in a warm joy. I couldn’t believe it at first, but it wasn’t a mistake: Today really was the twenty-fourth. I’d managed to wake up right on Christmas Eve. Now I could create one final memory with Minami and the others. I felt bad about bothering the nurses so early in the morning, but I pressed the call button to let them know I was awake. They called my parents, who came to see me right away. Since it was the first time I’d stayed unconscious for almost four days, they must’ve been worried; Mom seemed overcome with emotion as she gazed at me. “Oh, Makoto… You really do sleep a lot, don’t you?” she said tearfully. As I was trying to come up with a jokey reply, Dad walked over to me with a grin and ruffled my hair with one big hand. “Well done, Makoto—you woke up right on time. Don’t you have that thing tonight? You promised your friends you’d be at their party.” “I mean, it wasn’t like I said I’d definitely show up…but I guess it counts as a promise.” “I’m sure the doctor will let you go out today, no problem. Perfect timing! Like father, like son.” “What did you time perfectly, Dad?” I asked. “I met my true love and have the best son a man could wish for—everything in my life was timed to perfection.” “That’s stretching it a tiny bit.” I laughed, but I was almost tearing up, feeling grateful to have them both there. After chatting with Mom and Dad, I opened the messaging app on my phone to send Minami a text before it was too late. I saw that Hayami had been replying to her for me while I’d been unconscious, and I scrolled through the chat to catch up. There weren’t any special notes from Hayami. Feeling nervous, I sent Minami a text: “Turns out I can come to the party tonight.” She saw the message instantly, and her reply popped up. “Amazing!” “I might get a bit shy.” “I’m so happy, I’m totally gonna ditch my makeup classes.” “Not sure if that’s a good idea…,” I wrote back. “Don’t worry, I’m kidding. Can’t wait to see you!” “Same. Oh btw, I haven’t had a chance to get you a present. Sorry about that.” “Just having you there is the best present I could’ve wished for!” Staring at Minami’s last message, I let it all sink in. I felt like crying just a little bit. That’s how happy I was to have woken up for this special day. Tears welled in my eyes—not tears of sadness, but of joy. I’d cried for all kinds of reasons in my life, but this was by far the most cathartic. I couldn’t just give myself up to my emotions, though. I had things to do: filling in Hayami, getting through my medical examinations, the list went on. I jumped into action to get ready to spend the last Christmas Eve of my life with my friends. Since I’d been unconscious for almost four days—the longest of any of my spells so far—the doctors gave me a whole battery of tests over the course of the morning. It didn’t stress me out, though; my doctor was a comforting presence, guiding me through every step of the process. When she asked me how I felt, I told her about how croaky my voice was and how my muscles felt kind of sore. Smiling, she said it was natural to feel that way after sleeping for four days straight. But the human body can work wonders. Soon my body got used to being awake again, and the stiffness gradually faded away. After lunch, I had to go through more examinations. These ones were on a slightly bigger scale than the ones in the morning, but I had free time in between the tests. I’m sure Mom was busy, but she took time off from work to bring me some clothes to choose from for the party that night. My parents helped me pick out my outfit, as excited about my night out as if they were going to the party themselves. Right around the time we were settling on the outfit, Hayami came to see me. When I’d texted her in the morning, she’d offered to come visit during the day. She chuckled fondly when she saw the clothes scattered around my room and greeted my parents. They’d already met before, and I got the sense that my parents trusted her. “How about we give you two some space to chat?” Dad suggested. “Your mother and I can go to a café or something.” My parents left the room, leaving the two of us alone. Even though it had only been a few days since I’d last seen Hayami, it felt so good to talk to her again. We chatted about all sorts of random stuff as usual and joked around—nothing heavy. But at some point, I found myself saying, “It feels like a miracle.” “Wow, dramatic.” Hayami laughed quietly. “That’s how it really feels to me, though. After everything that’s happened, my final wish actually came true—I can keep my promise.” “Well…miracles don’t just happen.” “Yeah, I guess.” “And people don’t wake up unless someone shakes them awake.” I looked at her in surprise; I hadn’t expected Hayami to say something like that. She averted her eyes and let out an awkward laugh. “You probably woke yourself up, Tsukishima. It’s you who made it happen.” That was an out of character thing for her to say, and I was touched. “You don’t sound like yourself,” I said honestly. She glared at me and swiped at my arm without saying another word. Though there were more tests in the afternoon, my body temperature never dipped below average. Dad was going to drive me to the party in the evening. When I got back to my room from the last examination of the day, my parents and Hayami were waiting for me there. I offered to give Hayami a ride, and we headed to Ena’s house together. The radio was on when we climbed into the car. Unlike other days, it didn’t hurt to hear the goings-on of the world outside. The DJ put on some Christmassy music, and Dad kept up a lively conversation peppered with laughter. I thought Hayami might prefer a quieter ride, but she seemed to be enjoying herself. “Here we are. Have fun, Makoto.” Dad pulled up at Ena’s house exactly on time. We thanked him for the ride, then turned to look up at the building. For the first time that evening, I noticed just how much my heart was pounding. I was more nervous than I thought. “Hey, don’t just stand there, Tsukishima. Come on.” Hayami prodded me and rang the doorbell. I hadn’t heard Ena’s voice in so long, but she answered over the intercom and unlocked the gate. We walked up the path, making our way to the front door. All the while, I thought about what to talk about with Minami, what to say first when I saw her. “The door’s heavy, so you open it,” Hayami said. I took hold of the handle and gently opened the door. “Merry Christmas!” Party crackers popped, making me jump. I had no idea they’d been waiting behind the door. Ena, Ichika, and Minami gathered around me, all wearing Santa hats and holding up crackers. “Merry Christmas, Makoto.” Minami smiled warmly when our eyes met, and a tingling sensation rushed through my body, all the way to the pit of my stomach. The sheer happiness that blazed in me almost took my breath away. But I pulled myself together and said the words that I’d longed to tell her in person. “Merry Christmas, Minami.” My last Christmas Eve was about to begin, surrounded by the people I loved the most.