Interlude
TIME PASSED PEACEFULLY, all the way to our 60th birthdays.
One night, Ryou brought home a sweet, slightly timid girl named Eri-chan.
“Mom? Dad? We’re thinking about marriage.”
We had no reason to oppose the engagement. After all, it wasn’t unexpected. We had met Eri-chan earlier, back when she and Ryou first started dating. Our only reaction was “Finally!” From there, we started bringing our families together in preparation for the wedding that was sure to follow sooner or later.
Then, two years later in the spring, Ryou finally said the magic words. It took longer than we were expecting, so we had quite a lot of money saved up for the ceremony. However, when we offered to throw them a lavish wedding, they told us they wanted something small and private. Boring, right?
Later that same night, however, there was a problem.
“Mom? Dad? We need some advice.”
Eri-chan was spending the night that evening. She and Ryou came together to visit Kazune and I in our bedroom to talk about something. We both tensed up, dreading the worst. Whatever it was, the two of them couldn’t seem to bring themselves to say it, and my mind was starting to take a dark turn.
“Well? What sort of advice did you need, son?” I asked, steeling myself. Kazune was listening intently too. They both looked so distraught, I could only imagine what grave horror was on their minds…
“Okay, here it is. We want to lock our IPs on the day of the wedding.”
Oh. That’s anti-climactic.
“It’s just…when I think about what could happen if we shifted on the big day, it scares me… But if we lock our IPs, we’ll be fine, right?”
As it turned out, Ryou and Eri-chan were experiencing the exact same fears we had felt prior to our wedding.
“You guys lock IPs at your work, right, Dad? So…could you maybe do it for us?”
Around this time, IP stabilization technology was becoming more widespread, and it was now legal for ordinary citizens to lock their IPs under special circumstances. Of course, they’d have to submit the proper forms and pass inspection, but at this point in our lives, Kazune and I had progressed further in our careers than we ever intended to. We had the authority to pull some strings here and there. So really, it was no wonder Ryou and Eri-chan had turned to us for help.
That said, if they were this hesitant to ask us about it, then they must have already realized that locking their IPs would mean eradicating all their other possibilities. Still, they wanted to marry their one and only beloved, and so they sought our input, regardless. In response, however, we neither supported nor rejected their wishes.
“Why don’t we take a moment to reminisce about old times?” I suggested.
“Yes, that sounds nice,” said Kazune.
And so we recounted our old memories, from our bizarre first encounter to her numerous rejections of me, from her half-assed confession of love to my half-assed proposal. Then we told them how we felt that same IP anxiety—though obviously we left out the story of our failed first night together. And then we told them about how we took our IP bands off for our wedding and married each other’s possibilities. We told them about when Ryou was young—when we got caught up in a heinous crime, and I nearly broke my vow—and how happy we were now.
We relayed all of this to our dear, sweet children. It was really just a story we wanted to tell. However they chose to feel about it and whatever they decided as a result was up to them.
So, did they end up wearing their IP bands for their wedding, you ask?
Hmm, good question! You know, my memory’s not as good as it used to be…
Yeah, let’s go with that.
✦ ✦ ✦
The next year, Ryou and Eri-chan had an adorable little girl who they named Ai. Sadly, both of my parents passed away before they got the chance to meet her. But with me, Kazune, Ryou, Eri-chan, and Ai, our family was large and happy enough already, so as new grandparents, we felt content to kick back and age like a fine wine.
Little Ai grew like a weed, and around the time she was in elementary school, my doctor discovered a tumor in my stomach. Luckily, they caught it at an early stage, so my treatment didn’t take too harsh of a toll on my body. But Lady Luck was never on my side, and at the age of seventy-three, I was told I had six months to live. I figured I’d pass away in the hospital, but my family firmly insisted on another option.
When cancer patients approach the end of their life, they may choose to decline treatment or hospice care to instead spend their final days in the comfort of their own home. And when my son and his wife suggested I do the same, I felt truly blessed. I didn’t want to be a burden on their family, but I trusted that they sincerely wanted to be there for me when my time came. It meant the world to me. And so, I agreed to stay at home under two conditions: no drugs, and no treatments.
At the age of seventy-three, I was perhaps still a bit too young to die, but oddly enough, I felt no fear or regret. I would finish out my life in a large house with my dear wife, my dependable son, my kindhearted daughter-in-law, and my adorable granddaughter. With my family at my side to see me off, even the most excruciating heart failure would be worth it to me. I had lived a good life.
Then I went home from the hospital and spent my remaining time with Kazune in peace…until that one day when my IP band announced my schedule.
At the end of each month, my device would list out all of the following month’s scheduled events. At my age, I didn’t do much socializing anymore, so I was puzzled as to what it was about to remind me of. That was when I learned of an appointment I had no recollection making.
August 17th, 10 a.m., Showa-dori intersection, Leotard Girl