Chapter 5

“This small white spot is a malignant tumor,” explained the doctor. It didn’t feel like he was talking about me. The only symptoms I’d been experiencing were fatigue and headaches; nothing that severe. The tumor was about the size of my pinkie nail, so the surgery didn’t take long. It was a simple procedure that didn’t even require a scalpel. It was over in no time. It seemed like a piece of cake, and I assumed the whole ordeal was behind me. A few years later, however, they found that the cancer had moved. “We need to start chemotherapy.” Those few words from the doctor marked the beginning of my nightmare. I had to inject myself with a powerful drug to stop the cancer cells from multiplying. The bad cells stopped growing, but normal cells slowed down, too. What did that mean? First, I was hit with severe nausea and diarrhea. My hair fell out, so I started wearing a knitted hat, even when I was inside. I started having trouble sleeping, which made me feel dazed. My memories started getting hazy. Apparently, I was suffering from something called chemo brain. I struggled to remember what had happened a few days earlier, or even the previous day. Wait, what was I thinking about just now? My thoughts were all over the place, and it drove me insane. Gradually, even that feeling faded away, and I stopped thinking altogether. I became numb. I was totally out of it. Then, out of nowhere, I was struck by an intense sense of anxiety. I spent almost every day crying by myself. I was clearly depressed. Why was I the only one who had to endure so much suffering? I cursed my fate. I cursed myself. I started to think I’d be better off dead. I thought about wrapping a towel around my neck. Jumping from a rooftop. Cutting my wrists. Biting my tongue off. I thought about dying every single day. But my family wouldn’t let me think like that. Stay alive. Keep on living. I shouldered the weight of their pleas alone. Can you imagine what that’s like? How agonizing it is to have people wish for you to live, rather than die? Oh. I see what this is. It’s a living hell. Hayase had heard nothing from Fuyutsuki since sending her the video of my confession. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I hadn’t seen Fuyutsuki in a week. It wasn’t because I felt too embarrassed or awkward to face her—I literally hadn’t seen her. Narumi and Hayase were in the same boat, and we’d been keeping in frequent contact. Yuuko: Have either of you guys heard from Fuyutsuki? Ushio: Nothing here Sorano: Same I messaged her Hey, but she left it unread. Unsurprisingly, she wouldn’t answer my calls, either. I couldn’t contact her on LINE or over the phone. Nor was she coming to school. What in the world was going on? I was apprehensive beyond words. Fuyutsuki hadn’t been at our first-period lecture that Monday. The terrace where we usually went was empty, too. The area was silent, as though Koharu Fuyutsuki had never existed at all. I was sitting alone on the terrace, drinking soda from a bottle and watching the clouds drift by. The sweet drink fizzed on my tongue and ran down my throat. Every Monday after first period, the pair of us would kill time on the student center terrace. I’d assumed we’d carry on doing that forever. Fuyutsuki would sit by my side drinking sugary milk tea while I’d eat an early lunch from the university cafeteria. We’d chat about nothing, and Fuyutsuki would laugh. For some reason, I’d thought things would always stay that way. “Where are you, Fuyutsuki?” I remembered her telling me once that she didn’t like soda. “Remember how I told you that vending machines are like Russian roulette for me? I don’t drink carbonated drinks, so whenever I end up with one, it makes me feel like my throat is burning.” I thought about that as I watched the clouds float by. A single fluffy cloud slowly drifted from right to left. Birds were singing, and I could hear the cheerful voices of girls walking through the campus. “Ahhh, I wish I could hear her voice.” The words had slipped out unconsciously, and as I realized what I’d said, a wave of embarrassment crept over me. I pulled out my phone and opened LINE to distract myself. Sorano: Are you coming to class today? The message I’d sent the day before was still marked as unread. Was she ignoring me? Had she blocked me? Unpleasant thoughts bubbled up inside me. It was as if there was something stuck in my throat making it hard to breathe. My heart ached, and my chest felt tight. “What is this? Heartbreak?” I couldn’t shake the idea that it was something else. I had a bad feeling that something more serious had happened to Fuyutsuki, and a vague sense of apprehension seized hold of me. That was why I wanted to see her—to make sure she hadn’t disappeared. People you cared about could vanish in the blink of an eye, as if they’d never been there at all. That was what had happened with my father. Before I knew it, he was gone, never to be seen again. It felt as if someone had said, “If she means that much to you, I’ll take her away,” then torn out something hidden deep inside me. What had I done wrong? What did I do to deserve this? “…I must have done some pretty terrible things in my past life.” I was so distressed that all I could do was cling to concepts beyond my control, like past lives and fate. I hung my head, on the verge of tears. “Good morning.” As I was staring at an ant on the asphalt below, I heard Hayase’s voice. I looked up to see her standing there with a gloomy look on her face. “You okay, Hayase?” Her complexion worried me. Maybe it was her makeup, or maybe it was the dark circles under her eyes, but she looked like an extremely sick panda. “I never thought I’d see you looking so down in the dumps, Hayase.” “You think I look strong?” “All leader types look strong to me.” “Believe it or not, I’m a real softy.” Sure enough, Hayase was slumped over at such an angle that it looked like her spine had turned to jelly. “I take it Koharu’s not here.” There was always a chance that Fuyutsuki would suddenly appear out of the blue, saying “Did I worry you? Heh-heh-heh” with a smile. Perhaps Hayase had been clinging on to that sliver of hope, too. I understood how she felt. “Maybe it’s because I sent her that weird video,” she said. “What d’you mean ‘weird’? “I was making fun of your confession.” “Oh, so you did mean it like that.” Hayase probably wasn’t used to people disappearing. Unlike her, I was accustomed to grown-ups coming in and out of my life, so I wasn’t as affected by it as she was. No, that was a lie. Correction: Fuyutsuki’s disappearance was very tough on me. “I wonder what happened to her,” I said. “Who knows?” Hayase replied simply. “……” “……” The conversation came to a grinding halt. “Anyway, about the midterm exams,” I began, forcing myself to say something. “Can we get past papers from our seniors?” “Yeah, they’re usually the people to ask.” “Could you photocopy yours for me? I’ll treat you to some snacks from the student center.” “Sure.” I’d expected Hayase to complain about what a poor trade-off that was, but her head was in the clouds. She didn’t react to my attempt at a joke, probably because she was too busy worrying about Fuyutsuki. Instead, she just stared blankly at a line of ants on the ground. Then, I heard someone call out. “Sorano!” It was Narumi. He was running over to us, waving. His burly build made him look like a rugby player, and the other people on campus tried to get out of his way when they saw him coming. If he collided with them, they wouldn’t get knocked over so much as run over. Narumi came to a stop and tried to catch his breath with his hands on his knees. “What’s up?” I asked. “Why are you running?” said Hayase. “Haah… Haah… I…ran here…from Tsukishima,” he said, delivering the information in fragments between pants. It sounded like he’d run all the way here from Tsukishima Station, over half a mile away. There probably should be a law to prevent people as brawny as him from running on the sidewalk. Just as I was about to make a joke about that, Narumi said something completely unexpected. “I saw Fuyutsuki.” The moment he said that, Hayase and I exchanged a look. “Where?” “She was walking from Shintomicho and went into a big hospital.” The word hospital sent a sudden chill down my spine. I couldn’t help but think of Fuyutsuki’s past. Her cancer. The cancer spreading. Being hospitalized. Had she gotten sick again? My brain started to heat up. I needed to see her. Nothing else mattered. “Thanks. I’m gonna go see her.” “I’ll come with you,” said Hayase, holding on tightly to my shirt sleeve. “What about you, Narumi?” “Sorry… I’ve got a compulsory class I can’t skip.” “That’s okay, the two of us will go!” I told him. By then, Hayase and I were already running. “You know where you’re headin’?” Narumi shouted after us. I looked behind me, waving my phone. “Don’t worry—I’ll check the map! Thanks!” “Be careful!” We ran as fast as we could until we were out of breath, then switched to speed-walking, and eventually started running again. My sides hurt, and I could taste blood. My lungs were aching. I didn’t care, though—none of it mattered. I just wanted to see Fuyutsuki as soon as possible. The thought of seeing her even a second faster made it all feel worth it. Shintomicho was one subway stop from Tsukishima Station. We debated whether or not to take the subway but decided to run instead. It felt like that would be quicker than going down and waiting for a train. Hayase was wearing heels, so she had to tap out almost as soon as we started running. “Go on ahead,” she told me, so I ran off by myself. I could see the large hospital from Tsukuda Bridge. At that point, I was totally worn out. I’d probably run two kilometers by that point. The hospital looked like a magnificent fort, with a combination of both low-rise and high-rise sections. Whoa. It even has a rooftop garden. It was exactly what you’d imagine a major city hospital to be like. When I went in through the first-floor entrance, I was greeted by the aroma of coffee rather than the usual hospital smell. The luxurious atmosphere left me in a state of disbelief; there was a coffee shop belonging to a certain green chain of stores, restaurants, and for some reason, even an art gallery. It felt like a high-end hotel. I felt completely out of place. I started to wonder if the reception staff would be dressed like hotel concierges—but the reception ended up being pretty ordinary. “Uh…excuse…me. Can I…ask you…something?” I said, panting heavily. “O-of course. Is this your first appointment here?” asked the receptionist, slightly flustered by my breathlessness. “Is there a patient…named Fuyutsuki…in this hospital? Koharu Fuyutsuki?” The receptionist started eyeing me suspiciously. “I’m sorry, but that’s personal information.” “Please. I haven’t been able to contact her lately.” I was desperate. I knew I was being stupid, but I couldn’t stop myself. I needed her to know. I needed this lady to tell her I wanted to see her—to tell Koharu Fuyutsuki. “…I’m afraid that doesn’t change things.” Somebody who looked like the receptionist’s boss came over, a smile pasted on her face. It was obvious that this was the smile she saved for suspicious individuals. “Is something the matter?” she asked. “Sorry. It’s fine,” I replied—but it really wasn’t. For the time being, I turned around and walked away from the reception. I knew how ridiculous my behavior was, but that didn’t make me any less desperate. At that moment, the floor underneath me began to sway. My vision started to turn white; there must not have been enough oxygen getting to my brain. Unable to stay standing, I slumped into a chair in the lobby. When was the last time I’d run that hard? An electronic chime sounded and a voice said, “Number one hundred and seven, please.” It had occurred to me that if I sat in the lobby long enough, Fuyutsuki’s name might be called out—but it sounded like they referred to patients by numbers instead. It didn’t seem like I was going to hear her name, no matter how long I sat around with my head down. “Where are you?” I muttered to myself. I got out my phone and opened LINE. The message I’d sent her the day before was still unopened. Fuyutsuki. Fuyutsuki. Fuyutsuki. All I could hear inside my head was her name. “Sorano!” Hayase had finally arrived at the hospital lobby. “Did you take the train?” I asked. “No, I caught a taxi.” Her expression was rigid. I could tell she’d hurried here. “So? Where’s Koharu?” “Reception won’t tell me anything.” “You idiot. Of course they won’t! But okay. I see.” There was a determined look on Hayase’s face. “We have no choice but to search for her ourselves. I’ll take the old building next door. Let me know if you find her.” With that, Hayase made her way to the old building, and I set off to look for Fuyutsuki. The hospital was twelve stories high, and I slowly worked my way from floor to floor. I didn’t want to attract suspicion, so I made a conscious effort not to stare and tried to make it look as though I was on my way to a particular room. The luxurious facade from earlier melted away the higher up I went, as the distinct stench of disinfectant became stronger. I assumed the ophthalmology department would be the most likely place to find her. I looked for someone who was using a white cane, but she wasn’t there. Fuyutsuki. Fuyutsuki. Fuyutsuki. The entire time, all I could think of was her name. I’d still heard nothing from Hayase. Where are you?! With each second that ticked by, I grew more worried. When I reached the pediatric floor, I almost turned back, thinking it was unlikely I’d find her there. That was when I heard it. I could hear the sound of a piano. A gentle melody filled the hospital hallway, and my heart raced hearing the familiar tune. An image of Fuyutsuki’s profile as she played the piano drifted across the back of my mind. This must have been the so-called Kids’ Room. The walls were covered in pastel-blue wallpaper, and there was a soft-looking yellow-and-green jigsaw mat on the floor. The shelves on the walls were packed full of toys and picture books. There were about ten kids there, and three women who must have been mothers gazed lovingly at their children. There, in the Kids’ Room, I saw an upright piano with a white cane leaning against the keys. My heart skipped a beat. Fuyutsuki was playing the piano. She was putting her whole body into it, and her long hair swayed from side to side as her fingers flowed across the keys. What was that song? It was something they performed regularly in churches. “What a friend we have in Jesus. ” The voice singing had an airy, gentle quality to it, with the singer stretching out their notes like a true professional. All the kids started to sing along in unison. The moment I heard Fuyutsuki’s voice, I felt a surge of relief from the ends of my toes to the tips of my fingers. I felt like I was going to topple over. I’d found her. I’d finally found her. Thank God. She hadn’t disappeared after all. I was so glad she wasn’t gone. “All our sins and griefs to bear! ” Not noticing I was there, Fuyutsuki continued sing in a carefree tone, her voice as clear as a bell. I couldn’t believe how good she was. “Ha-ha. Ah-ha-ha.” Quiet laughter escaped my lips as my vision began to blur. My tear ducts were hot, and my cheeks felt damp. I took out my phone to share the news with Hayase. Sorano: She’s here Yuuko: Where?! Sorano: The Kids’ Room in the pediatrics ward Yuuko: What’s she doing there? Sorano: Singing for the children Then Hayase sent me a sticker I’d never seen before. Looking at it, though, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how she was feeling. I met up with Hayase, and we waited together for Fuyutsuki to come out. She must have spent fifteen minutes singing to the kids. “Thank you!” they all shouted when she left, and Fuyutsuki told them she’d see them again soon. “Let’s go,” I said to Hayase. She nodded and followed behind me. What were we meant to say to Fuyutsuki? It had only been a week, but I felt like we hadn’t seen each other in years. My heart was racing. This is crazy. What am I going to say? “Fuyutsuki!” The sound of my voice startled her. Seeing her react like that, something felt off. “Sorry, Fuyutsuki. It’s me, Sorano. I’m right behind you.” I knew people were supposed to say their names when they were calling out to her. I’d done that when we’d been first getting to know each other, but she’d gradually grown accustomed to me, and eventually Fuyutsuki had learned to recognize me from my voice alone. But this time, she hadn’t. She hadn’t said, “Oh, Kakeru,” in that carefree way she usually did. When she turned around, she looked frightened. I was nervous. All the blood in my body felt as if it had frozen, and my throat was dry. I made a joke to try to disguise my anxiety. “Excuse me, miss, but we’ve been searching everywhere for you. May we have a moment of your time?” Usually, Fuyutsuki would have laughed and gone along with it, saying something like “Who’s asking?” or “You’ve got the wrong person!” or some other sort of nonsensical reply to my dumb joke. This time, however, all she said was “Okay.” What was going on? There was something weird about her reply and her tone of voice. The rooftop garden was on the floor above the Kids’ Room, so Fuyutsuki, Hayase, and I decided to go there. Hayase tried to lend Fuyutsuki her arm, but she declined and walked there by herself, holding on to the railing. We were on top of the building, yet there were trees and a neatly trimmed lawn. A smattering of the azaleas had red flowers blooming from them, and there was a green archway in front of us leading to a bench on the other side. We got Fuyutsuki to sit down on the bench. She was wearing fluffy pastel-colored pajamas. We were finally face-to-face again, but I still didn’t know where to begin. In the end, I decided to hide my deep affection for her and start simple. “It’s been a while.” Hayase was sitting next to Fuyutsuki, and she took her by the hand. “We’ve been so worried about you. Why haven’t we been able to get in touch with you?” Fuyutsuki seemed to tense up, assumably because Hayase had grabbed her hand out of nowhere. There was something strange going on. Then Fuyutsuki opened her mouth and spoke. “Um…” Her next words filled me with despair. “Have we met somewhere before?” It was as if she’d never even met us. Hayase looked stunned, and her eyes widened in astonishment. A quiet “No way” escaped her lips, and she glanced toward me. Obviously, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, either. Without meaning to, my tone became more forceful. “Are you being serious right now?” “Eek!” Fuyutsuki let out a short, fearful cry. Someone whose facial expressions she couldn’t see had spoken to her in a threatening tone of voice. Of course she’d be scared. “Sorry,” I said. I apologized a second time, so softly only I could hear it, as if admonishing myself. At long last, we’d been reunited. So what the heck was going on? My heart was racing. I felt lightheaded. I closed my eyes and looked up at the sky. The sun was blazing down on us, making me feel dizzy. In that moment, stomach acid came rushing back up my throat. “This…isn’t a joke, is it?” I asked again. I’d hoped that would settle it. If it was a joke, this was where it would end. I was praying for it to end. “What isn’t a joke?” She wasn’t joking. “More to the point, who are you? I’m going to call for help.” She really wasn’t. Confronted with the reality of the situation, Hayase began to tear up. “All right, then.” The words formed naturally on my tongue. Once I’d accepted this was how things were, my nerves actually began to settle. “Nice to meet you. My name is Kakeru Sorano, and this is Hayase—” After talking to Fuyutsuki, I decided to return to the dorm for a while. It was evening by the time we left the hospital, and the Sumida River was tinted orange underneath Tsukuda Bridge. It wasn’t fully dark, but nevertheless, the streetlights on the bridge were already on. I must have looked extremely depressed, because a toy poodle that was out on a walk barked at me. Feeling helpless, I picked up a small stone that was lying on the ground and threw it into the river from the bridge. “I wanna try, too,” said Hayase. With tears in her eyes, she also picked up a stone and threw it into the water. I grabbed another one so we could throw them in together, and our two pebbles met the surface with a plop. Ripples creased the surface of the water—but they were just too small. My heart was in turmoil, while the surface of the water before me was so incredibly calm; no matter how many stones I threw in, it would always stay that way. I couldn’t stand how tranquil it looked after what had happened to Fuyutsuki. I remembered something I’d said a long time ago: “I don’t even want to cause the tiniest ripple.” The change in me was a testament to how attached I’d gotten, and suddenly I let out a yell. “Aaargh!” Hayase joined in as she continued to throw stones. This time, the chihuahua started barking at us. “Are you two all right?” asked the middle-aged man walking the dog. He didn’t say this out of concern but to make sure we wouldn’t harm anyone. He was holding his phone in one hand and looked primed to call for help at any time. So we ran away. Hayase came back to my dorm room with me. It wasn’t something we’d decided on, exactly. I’d just been in a daze, and by the time I’d snapped out of it, we were standing in front of the dorm. The moment I opened the door, I was hit by the strong smell of garlic. Apparently, Narumi had been making gyoza. “Hey. Ya want some?” He seemed so carefree it almost made me cry. “It stinks!” Hayase snapped angrily, her voice laden with tears. There were fifty gyoza dumplings laid out on the round table in the middle of the room. “Okay, let’s go through everything that happened.” Narumi dipped a dumpling in vinegared soy sauce, then stuffed it into his mouth along with some rice. “On Shunday, Fuwuchuki and Sowano…,” Narumi began. “Swallow your food before you speak,” I said. “How is this idiot so laid-back?” remarked Hayase. She placed the tips of her fingers to her temples. Narumi swallowed with an audible gulp. “All right. Let’s recap,” he said. Fuyutsuki and I had kissed after the student festival on Sunday. “So Monday. None of you guys saw her, did ya?” “Nope,” I said with a shake of my head. “She wasn’t in our lecture, either.” “Then, on Sunday night, I sent her that confession video from the monja restaurant,” said Hayase with her arms crossed. There’d been no sign of Fuyutsuki for a week after that, and she’d been impossible to contact. And when we finally met up again, she’d acted like she lost her memories. “I told her we were friends, but she kept denying it.” “Doesn’t she have a phone? All she needs to do is check her LINE messages, and she’d know ya were tellin’ the truth.” “I thought the same thing,” Hayase said. “So I asked her to show us her phone, but…” “What happened?” asked Narumi, seeing Hayase hesitate. “Her phone screen was all smashed up,” I explained. “Yeah.” Hayase nodded. “The screen was totally destroyed; it had a whole web of cracks in it. Koharu said, ‘I can make calls, but it’s hard for me to operate the screen!’ She missed the point, but it did sound like something Koharu would say.” Narumi laughed loudly and slapped his thigh. “It sure does.” “This is no laughing matter!” shouted Hayase. She was sitting with her legs to the side, and she almost rose to her feet in anger. “I know things ain’t lookin’ too bright, but gettin’ all annoyed won’t help anything.” “If you’d actually seen her, you wouldn’t be saying that.” A sob escaped Hayase. “I just feel bad for Koharu.” “Hey now, there’s no need to cry,” said Narumi. I understood why she was crying. It’d really stung when Fuyutsuki had said, “Who are you?” with that innocent look on her face. It felt like everything we’d been through had been wiped clean. We’d had so much fun. We’d laughed so much. We’d done so many exciting things together. I couldn’t just say “Oh, okay then” and accept that all of that had been lost. What on earth had happened? How had Fuyutsuki ended up like that? She’d done everything she could to go to college, even after suffering from a painful disease and losing her eyesight. If there was a god out there putting her through even more excruciating challenges…then they were just too cruel. “Come on, now—there’s no point cryin’,” said Narumi. “We wanna do somethin’ about it, right?” “What are we supposed to do?” asked Hayase. “There must be something…” “Sure, but what?!” she shouted hysterically. “……” “……” “……” All three of us fell silent, and the rough laughter of some guys in the hallway reverberated through the wall. Narumi slowly rose to his feet. “Well, let’s just do whatever we can.” He started rummaging through the pre-prepared food on top of the refrigerator. “You guys want some miso soup?” “Are you our mom or what?” I retorted in my usual manner. “There’s tons of rice there, so help yourself to seconds,” he added. “You really do sound like our mom.” At long last, a laugh escaped Hayase’s lips. “Don’t make me laugh, Sorano.” “Well, crying’s not going to do you any good.” “Why are you being so laid-back about this now, Sorano?” “You really think I don’t care about this? Seriously? You’ve gotta be kidding me!” I yelled, suddenly losing my cool. Narumi spread his hands, trying to dispel the tension. “Come on, why don’t we just eat up those gyoza before they get cold, yeah?” “No. I don’t want any,” Hayase said sulkily. It seemed like I’d gone too far. “There’s no point in us fightin’,” said Narumi. “C’mon, have some gyoza.” “Sure, Mom,” Hayase retorted feebly as she reluctantly put one in her mouth. “…These are great.” “Right?” Narumi grinned smugly, and after giving him a resentful glare, Hayase kept going, demolishing one dumpling after another. For someone who’d been so reluctant to eat, she seemed to have quite the appetite. “Hey, don’t eat them all.” “Don’t boss me around. I get hungry when I’m in a bad mood. Do you have anything else besides gyoza?” “Now that I think about it, didn’t you get some sausages from back home?” I asked Narumi. I glanced toward the refrigerator, but Narumi melodramatically blocked my view and cried out “Noooo!” His unique Kansai sense of humor was on full display. “But those are my favorite! They’re called swirly sausages ’cause they’re coiled up like a spiral!” “Hey, they sound delicious. Come on, get them out. Don’t be stingy.” Hayase grabbed Narumi by the shoulders, trying to pull him away from the fridge, but Narumi resisted, shaking his head from side to side. “Nuh-uh. No way.” I watched them, clutching my stomach with laughter. Before coming to college, I’d never imagined myself having so much fun with friends. Cooking gyoza, worrying, crying, arguing, and trying to work things out on our own. Maybe our way of thinking was naive. Maybe we were only capable of coming up with clumsy solutions. But even so, this desperation of ours didn’t seem all that bad.