I’d always thought I didn’t need to rely on other people. What I came to realize, however, was that this was just a form of self-defense close to giving up, and I was surprised to find an extreme stubbornness rooted within me. Despite all the tears I’d shed, I found myself back at the hospital, chiding myself for how persistent I was being. It was picture book reading day, and Hayase’s gentle, slightly elevated tone of voice echoed throughout the Kids’ Room. The children were all completely engrossed in the story. “The princess took a bite of the small piece of fruit, and tears began streaming down her face.” She’d eaten the “fruit of truth” made by the witch, and the princess wept and confessed the lie she’d told out of concern for the prince. I could see tears in some of the kids’ eyes. “And the princess and the prince lived happily ever after.” Thanks to the lengths gone to by the prince after learning the truth, the story ended on a happy note, leaving the children in high spirits. Although the kids seemed to be having fun, Fuyutsuki, sitting on a chair in the back, appeared to be in distress. She seemed to be having a hard time breathing. After story time was over, it was her turn to play the piano—but she made a lot of mistakes and had to stop a number of times. The next day, when I turned up at my volunteer job, there was no sign of Fuyutsuki. Apparently, she’d taken a turn for the worse. She wasn’t there the day after, either. I knew which hospital room she was staying in. One day, I’d been concerned about how wobbly she looked on her feet, so I’d followed her to her room without saying a word. I’d acted like a complete stalker. At the time, I’d even scared myself by what I was doing, but right now I was glad I’d gone to the effort. After parting ways with Hayase and Narumi after Kids’ Time, I headed straight to Fuyutsuki’s hospital room. Since it was a large, high-end hospital, every room in the ward was private. The rooms were in neat rows, and each one had a nameplate with a single patient’s name written on it. I went to the west wing on the seventh floor—the floor above the Kids’ Room—and stood in front of a nameplate that read KOHARU FUYUTSUKI. Just as I was about to knock, I heard voices coming from inside. “Do you really want me to cut it?” “Uh-huh. Please.” I quietly slid the door open a little and peeked inside. All I could see peering through the gap was the foot of a white bed. I didn’t catch a glimpse of Fuyutsuki, but I did see a woman wearing a kimono. I didn’t know much about kimonos, but even I could tell from a glance that it was expensive. The pale ultramarine fabric looked incredibly soft, and it was decorated with fans. The woman in the kimono looked a lot like Fuyutsuki. She seemed more easygoing, and her eyes looked slightly bigger, but I figured she must be Fuyutsuki’s mom. She was holding a pair of scissors. Fuyutsuki’s mother looked toward the door; she must have noticed me peeking through the gap. Then we made eye contact. Oh crap! I thought, so flustered my heart nearly stopped beating—but her expression soon lightened, and she placed a finger to her lips, shushing me. “I understand, dear. I’m going to go and get a drink,” she said to the person on the bed, chuckling softly. Fuyutsuki’s mom shuffled over to the door. She stepped out of the room and glanced at me, blinking her eyes inquiringly. “Are you a friend of Koharu’s?” she asked in a whisper. “Uh, yes,” I responded at normal volume, and she quickly shushed me. “Let’s go and talk over there so Koharu doesn’t hear us,” her mom whispered, still clutching the scissors against her chest. She could have put them down, but instead, she carried them with her index finger and thumb through the holes. It looked a bit sinister, but she also came off as being a bit scatterbrained, as expected of Fuyutsuki’s mom. We sat down on the sofa in front of the vending machine, and she smiled at me, making eye contact. Fuyutsuki had never been able to meet my gaze, so it felt a bit strange—probably because they looked so alike. “You’re a friend of Koharu’s?” she asked again. “Ah, yes. My name is Kakeru Sorano. We go to college together.” “College?” the woman interjected. “So she did go to college after all.” “Yeah. We studied the same subject.” “That’s such a relief,” she said, collapsing back on the sofa. “Ever since Koharu was hospitalized, she’s been insisting that she never went to college. I was starting to think I’d lost my mind.” “Was she saying that at home, too?” “Did she say something to you?” “…She’s acting like she has no memory of me,” I said. Fuyutsuki’s mom’s eyes widened. Had I upset her? Should I have kept that to myself? A wave of guilt swept over me. Surprisingly, though, Fuyutsuki’s mom gave me a gentle smile. “I see… This must be hard on you as well.” She was refusing to show her sadness on her face, which made my chest tighten. “No, I’m okay.” “I don’t believe that for a second. I’m sure it must be difficult.” “I’m fine.” “If you say so,” said Fuyutsuki’s mother with a laugh. How could she keep smiling like that? “Don’t you find this hard, ma’am?” “Ma’am? You sound as if you’re meeting your in-laws. Were you and Koharu…?” “N-no!” I said, hastily refuting her suspicions. “I was joking,” she said with a chuckle. She’d been laughing all throughout our exchange. The apple really didn’t fall far from the tree. I couldn’t help but think how similar she was to her daughter. “I’m not sure whether I should say this to you…,” she began softly. There was a pause. “It’s been very hard.” The calmness of her voice made my whole body tense up. “There isn’t a day that goes by without me wishing my child had been born with a healthier body. But…if I always look upset, it’ll only make things harder for her. If she’s going to overcome this, I need to be by her side, smiling.” Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. My vision started to blur as well. “So please. I want you to stick by her side. It might be tough, but I want you to keep her company with a smile on your face.” “I will,” I replied. “Thank you,” she said, beaming. Fuyutsuki’s mother started opening and closing the scissors she was holding. “What are the scissors for?” I asked. She looked down at them. “Oh. I’m going to cut her hair. It’s starting to fall out because of the treatment. It’s her third time going through this, so I’m sure she knows what’s going to happen to her.” “…I see. But her hair’s so beautiful and long.” “Ah, she’s not just cutting it off to throw away, though. Have you heard of hair donation?” “Like…giving away hair?” I got out my phone to look it up. Apparently, hair donation is when people donate their hair to make wigs for children who’ve gone bald because of illness. The wigs are given away for free. It seemed like there were tons of children waiting for their turn to come around. “If Fuyutsuki is going to lose all her hair, she could just make a wig for herself, couldn’t she?” I asked. “She doesn’t want that,” Fuyutsuki’s mother said, shaking her head. “Losing her hair made her so upset when she was younger, so she wants to donate it to kids who’re going through the same thing.” “That—” The words got stuck in my throat. This sudden example of Fuyutsuki’s kindness made me feel like I was about to cry. I took a deep breath—then an even deeper one—in an effort to hold back the tears. “That does sound like something Fuyutsuki would say.” “It does, doesn’t it? Maybe this is just me being a doting parent, but I don’t think I could’ve asked for a better daughter. Come and visit her again, won’t you?” Leaving me with those parting words, Fuyutsuki’s mother waved at me with her right hand—the one still grasping the scissors—and made her way back to her daughter’s room. “Today, let’s draw fireworks on this piece of paper.” We had the children drawing fireworks for Kids’ Time today. There was a certain type of fireworks called shaped fireworks that made patterns in the sky like smiles or stars, and I was getting the children to design these shapes. A week earlier, after decoding Fuyutsuki’s bookmark at the library, I’d called Hayase. The first thing I’d said to her was “Let’s set off some fireworks.” Hayase had been a member of the student festival committee, so I’d asked her about setting off the fireworks they’d meant to launch at the festival. “I think it could trigger some memories for her.” I shared what the doctor had said to me, and we discussed holding the fireworks display that Fuyutsuki had missed. We spent days planning it. Committee member Hayase raised the question of whether the kids at the hospital would be able to see the fireworks display. After getting some advice from Kotomugi, the president of the fireworks club, our plan evolved into a “Children’s Fireworks” event. We explained the situation to the parties involved, including the university and fireworks manufacturers, and eventually decided to hold a summer fireworks festival where we could showcase the fireworks that hadn’t been launched at the student festival. Back in the Kids’ Room, the children were enthusiastically drawing pictures of fireworks with crayons and colored pencils. Fuyutsuki, however, hadn’t come. According to a nurse I’d befriended, she was lying down in her room. She couldn’t tell me anything more about Fuyutsuki’s condition, though, seeing as it was confidential information. After Kids’ Time came to a close, Hayase handed me a white sheet of paper and some colored pencils. “Here.” “Thanks,” I said with a nod, and Hayase and I split up. She took the children’s drawings back to campus, while I headed to Fuyutsuki’s hospital room. On my way there, I bumped into her mother. She gave me a warm smile. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s nothing. I feel bad for intruding day after day.” “Take care of Koharu for me. I have an errand to run.” She was holding her daughter’s phone, its screen shattered like a spiderweb. “It seems like she broke this in her room the other day. A replacement has finally arrived, so I need to go pick it up.” “Right.” “Oh, and take this. It’s a mask, and I also have some disinfectant spray. There’s a chance she might be asleep.” Fuyutsuki’s mom handed me a face mask and sprayed disinfectant on my hands. This gesture alone made it clear that Fuyutsuki’s condition had worsened. I took a deep breath in front of Fuyutsuki’s room to calm myself down, then knocked on her door. There was no answer. “I’m coming in.” I crept into the room like a thief. Fuyutsuki was asleep, lying down with the back of her adjustable bed raised. The window was open. The curtains swayed gently every time a cool breeze came into the room, and the air felt unusually fresh for the city. Fuyutsuki’s hair had been cut short. It used to be the typical long hair most young women have, but now it stopped just above her ears. I sat on the chair beside her bed, feeling the breeze on my skin. I could hear Fuyutsuki’s soft, steady breathing. She looked just like Snow White sleeping on that bed. As I watched her, I felt a surge of affection rising in my chest. I gazed at her beautiful face, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. I didn’t want to wake her. I wished that tranquil moment would last forever. Yet whenever I thought about that disease eating away at her body, it chilled me to the core. Why was Fuyutsuki the one who had to suffer this fate? The chance that she’d survive until the end of the year was just 5 percent. The moment that figure went through my mind, I suddenly found myself scared looking at her tranquil sleeping face. I found myself thinking of Fuyutsuki dying, and I was overcome by the despair I’d feel losing her. The breeze that had been refreshing just moments earlier suddenly felt chilly, so I slowly started to close the window. As I did, it made a squeaking noise. Dammit, I thought, frozen to the spot. The sound made Fuyutsuki react with a start. “Ngh,” she groaned, stretching. “Mom, is that you?” She opened her eyes and looked in my direction. My heart skipped a beat at the thought that she might see me, but of course, Fuyutsuki didn’t notice who I was. “You can leave the window open. It’s nice and cool,” she said in the same sweet yet spoiled way she used to say “meanie” to me. It was pretty refreshing to see her act that way. As I watched her turn over onto her stomach, I almost laughed—but just then the lack of response from her “Mom” seemed to make her suspicious. “Is that you, Mom? Or are you a nurse?” There was a hint of panic in her voice. I felt too embarrassed to stay silent any longer, so I spoke up. “Sorry. It’s me, Sorano.” Fuyutsuki looked dumbfounded for a moment, but then she seemed to remember something. With an irritated look on her face, she started feeling around for the nurse call button. “H-hang on a minute!” I cried. “Why did you barge in here without permission?” “I was just concerned about you. You haven’t shown your face in the Kids’ Room for a while.” “I told you to forget about me.” “Come on, I’m only paying a visit. Your mom asked me to.” “You talked to my mom?” she asked. Fuyutsuki angrily sat up on the bed, but as soon as she did, she immediately hunched over, clutching her chest in pain. There was a drip connected to her left arm, with a clear bag hanging from an IV stand. “Are you okay?” I asked. “Just…give me…a moment.” She panted, trying to settle her breathing. Her face was pale, and sweat beaded on her forehead. She looked thinner, too. “Sorry,” I offered, not sure what else to say. “You’re so persistent, Sorano. What will it take for you to forget about me?” “Sorry.” “Stop apologizing.” “Are you okay?” “It hurts.” Although she couldn’t see, she turned her eyes toward me and grinned. It wasn’t the usual genuine smile I was used to seeing from her. It looked like there was some sadness to it. “Recently, even water makes me throw up. That’s why I’m on an IV drip.” “Is that a side effect of the medication? Is it really strong?” “Yeah. My white blood cell count is low, and my mouth is full of ulcers.” Her breathing grew labored as she spoke, and I could see the cold sweat on her skin. “Have I put you off yet? You’re better off forgetting about me.” “It doesn’t put me off at all.” “…You really don’t back down easily, do you?” she said, turning her face away from me. Her voice sounded frail as she continued. “My doctor said my hair might start to fall out next week.” “Oh… Right.” “That’s the part I hate the most.” Fuyutsuki was being pretty chatty today. It might have been because she’d be crushed under the weight of her worries if she didn’t get them off her chest. Or maybe she’d just completely given up. “I can’t see, so I don’t know what I look like.” Fuyutsuki’s voice was gradually starting to sound more tearful, and it hurt me just to hear her like that. “It’s so hard when you’re forced to rely on touch to help you imagine things.” I heard a choked sob. She’d begun to cry. The affection I felt for her was drowned out by the pain inside my chest. It felt like I was being strangled. Then, in a small voice, she said, “I want to die.” I couldn’t believe this was the same Fuyutsuki I used to know, who’d always had a smile on her face. But had that really been Fuyutsuki? Wasn’t that a version I’d conjured up in my mind, a figment of my imagination? Wasn’t the real Fuyutsuki the one lying here in front of me, her body trembling? What could I do? What could I do to help her? You were supposed to rub someone’s back at a time like this, right? For a moment, I felt reluctant to touch her. But the worst thing you could do when someone you cared about was crying was to do nothing. I touched Fuyutsuki’s back, making her jump. I wondered if she didn’t like it, but to my surprise, she didn’t say anything. I focused on speaking in the calmest voice I could manage. “We’re planning a Children’s Fireworks event at the university.” “A…Children’s Fireworks event?” “As part of our volunteer work at the hospital, we’re turning the kids’ drawings into fireworks. We’re going to set them off on campus.” I spoke slowly, waiting for Fuyutsuki to grasp what I was suggesting. “So there’s something I wanted to ask you. Would you like to draw something, too?” “Me?” “Yeah. We’re sending all the drawings to the fireworks company today, but it’ll take a while to make them and get everything ready, so the fireworks display will be at the end of September. That’s why…we’ve gotta try our hardest. We have a little over three months. Let’s aim for your health to improve before then.” “Why?” asked Fuyutsuki, raising her voice. “Why would you say something like that?! I already said that things are tough for me! Why would you suggest I needed to try harder…? How could you be so cruel?” She covered her face with both hands and began to cry. Her tears fell, one by one, onto the white sheets. “Can you feel this?” I took her arm and placed something in her hand. It was the yellow bookmark I’d retrieved. As soon as she touched the bookmark, she looked surprised. “Is this mine?” “Sorry—I already read it.” “…That’s not fair… That’s not fair at all.” She wept, her face becoming drenched with tears once again. I grabbed her by the shoulders and mustered up all the positivity I had inside me. “Isn’t it better to have a goal to work toward?” Fuyutsuki was someone so kind she’d decided to donate her hair to others, even though she was hurting badly herself. I wanted to cheer her up. “Having a goal is better than just crying. So let’s try our hardest to make it come true. I can’t make your illness any less difficult, but I can come and see you, listen to you, and cheer you on. So let’s give it our best shot.” I knew she couldn’t see me, but I smiled at her anyway. Maybe my smile would come through in my voice or seep into the atmosphere. Even if she only sensed one percent of the encouragement I was trying to convey, that was enough. I forced a smile to try to tell her not to give up. “Do you think things might turn out okay?” “I’m sure they will.” “Maybe I can try.” Fuyutsuki kept bawling her eyes out, and I rubbed her on the back, telling her over and over that everything would be okay. “…Can I…draw a firework, too?” she asked hoarsely. “Of course.” “Then promise me this: Promise me that once I’ve drawn my picture and folded it up, you won’t take a look inside.” “Sure.” “Turn around, please.” “Okay.” “Are you facing the other way?” “Yes.” Fuyutsuki asked me for the colored pencils, and I handed them to her. It didn’t take long for her to finish drawing her picture. “Do you need help?” “I can draw something like this by myself.” She carefully folded the paper in half three times, then gave me her drawing—as well as one last reminder. “You aren’t allowed to look at it, no matter what.” Marine Day came around, marking the start of summer break. Summer vacation for most colleges began in August and ended in September, but our college had the same vacation period as elementary, middle, and high schools. Apparently, this was to allow the students in Narumi’s course to complete a month-long navigation training exercise. The fact that we did our first-semester exams in September, after summer vacation had ended, was another point that seemed to set us apart from other universities. Fittingly for Marine Day, the weather was warm and clear. For the first time in a while, all three of us went to our volunteering job together and played with the children. Narumi was overwhelmingly popular with the kids, and whenever he turned up, the boys would rush toward him, shouting, “Narumi!” Meanwhile, they referred to me as “Mr. Sorano.” Once Kids’ Time was over, Hayase, Narumi, and I stopped by Fuyutsuki’s hospital room together. Every time I saw her, she looked even thinner. “How are you doing?” I asked. “So-so,” Fuyutsuki replied with an ambiguous smile. I didn’t know whether this meant things were a little easier or a little harder. Her previously sharp tone had softened considerably. However, she still looked like she was in pain. Narumi would chatter on in his Kansai accent, talking animatedly about his part-time job as if it was some sort of heroic tale, and Hayase would respond coldly. Fuyutsuki could only muster a polite smile as she watched their repartee. We were covered in sweat just walking back from our visit, so we stopped by a convenience store to buy ice cream. Narumi chose a soda-flavored ice pop, and Hayase and I went along with him and got the same thing. The three of us walked side-by-side as we ate our ice pops. As I crunched into the blue ice, the cold sensation that spread through my mouth was accompanied by a familiar soda flavor. “Whoa!” Narumi exclaimed as he bit into the bottom of his half-melted ice pop. It was late in the afternoon, but the sun was still high in the sky. I hurriedly ate my ice pop before the blazing sun melted it. Hayase, meanwhile, took tiny bites of hers. There was no way she’d finish it before it melted. “Hey, Hayase. Don’t let it drip,” I warned her. “But I can’t help it,” she replied, turning in Narumi’s direction. “Whoa, don’t aim that at me,” he said—so she turned back to me instead. Hayase was sandwiched between Narumi and me, and the two of us kept going back and forth, saying, “Whoa there” and “Stay away from me” as Hayase pivoted between us. Eventually, the absurdity of the situation made the three of us burst out laughing. “Don’t laugh at me!” Hayase said sulkily as the last bit of her ice pop fell onto the asphalt below. We all exchanged glances, then let out a sigh in unison. For some reason, we’d found ourselves overcome with laughter. It was as if the floodgates had opened after we’d had to keep stony-faced and serious in Fuyutsuki’s room. “My stomach hurts,” Hayase said, clutching her abdomen. “Why’d we all get ice pops anyway?” Narumi wondered aloud. “I know it’s a bit early, but how ’bout we get burgers for dinner? There’s a place over in Tsukishima.” I was on board with Narumi’s plan, but Hayase grumbled. “What’d you wanna eat, then, Hayase?” Narumi asked. “There’s this one ramen place I’ve always wanted to try.” The restaurant Hayase told us about was located past Monzen-nakacho Station, under the Shuto Expressway overpass. One of her upperclassmen had raved about it, so she’d always been curious about what it was like. That said, Hayase didn’t have the courage to go alone, and she was too embarrassed to invite her upperclassman to go with her. “You’re not shy about going with us, though,” I said, shooting her a cold look. “Nope,” replied Hayase with a coquettish smile. “Let’s take the train from Tsukishima, then,” said Narumi, lacing his hands behind his head. Then, in a strangely calm voice, he added, “We probably shouldn’t visit Fuyutsuki in a big group anymore.” “Yeah,” Hayase replied, a serious look on her face. Fuyutsuki was in such a bad state that we hadn’t even been able stay in her hospital room for more than fifteen minutes. It was the right decision not to hang around for long, given her poor health. But today, it had really felt like we weren’t supposed to be there. We couldn’t bring ourselves to watch Fuyutsuki suffer. It just cast a shadow over our hearts. “Once summer vacation starts, I’ll be doin’ my navigation training, so I won’t be back at the dorm till the end of August,” said Narumi. “Oh, really?” asked Hayase. “You didn’t know ’bout that? It’s what my course does—sail around Japan on a training ship.” “I want some Genghis Khan Caramels from Hokkaido as a souvenir,” Hayase said. “It’s not a vacation,” Narumi replied with a troubled smile. Still, I had a feeling he’d get some for her anyway. “Should we take turns visiting Koharu, then?” Hayase asked. “I’ll go,” I said automatically. “By yourself?” “Yeah.” “You don’t want me to come?” “Nah. Actually, I’d prefer to go alone.” “All right,” Hayase said with a nod. “To make up for it, I’ll get everything ready for the fireworks event. Maybe that will help jog Koharu’s memory.” “We won’t know unless we try.” “Yeah,” replied Hayase, and a heavy atmosphere settled over us. “The chances of us bringing her memories back are incredibly small, but I’ll be happy as long as we can show Fuyutsuki and the kids some fireworks.” Hayase and Narumi exchanged glances, then nodded to each other. “Wait, aren’tcha goin’ home for summer break?” Narumi asked me. “I’m not planning to. Come to think of it, where’s your home, Hayase?” “Me? I live at home.” “Wait, your family’s got a house in Kiyosumi Shirakawa? You must be loaded, having a place in central Tokyo…” “Maybe we should get our rich friend to treat us to ramen tonight.” Narumi laughed. “No way! I come from a family of regular office workers!” Hayase protested. A strange rhythmical lilt came over her voice when she said “office workers,” and Narumi and I burst out laughing. Hayase puffed out her cheeks indignantly as we boarded the subway, and the three of us headed off to eat some ramen.
Chapter 7
23 min read