"Shintaro is...what?"
My next few breaths choked in the back of my throat as I watched Hazuki struggle with words at my question. Tears streamed relentlessly down her pale face, ghostly under the fluorescence of the hospital lights glaring down from above us. The smell of antiseptic clogged my nostrils, churning my already nauseous stomach. People bustled past us in the busy waiting room, paying us no mind as they themselves were too preoccupied with each of their own struggles in this hotbed of false hope and thriving sorrow.
Past broken sobs, she forced words to form into a string of grief-filled sentences.
"He's-S-Shintaro is dead, Kuni. T-they said he was walking in t-the storm a-and he didn't see the car c-coming and it came out of nowhere and n-now he's—he's—"
I clamped my shaking hands down on her trembling shoulders, my mouth opening and closing, struggling to find something to say that might soothe her, that might soothe myself, but in this moment I could find no string of truth that wouldn't give us a lethal dose of that false sense of hope so prevalent in the air suffocating us. Nothing that could lift this weight off my chest or stop the tears falling from Hazuki's usually kind eyes, now burdened with loss.
Hazuki couldn't stop her terrified rambling. She rubbed her eyes repeatedly, irritating the swollen skin. Her nose started running. She wiped it with her sleeve to continue speaking, though she hardly could. To be fair, I could hardly listen anymore.
"...on impact, is w-what t-they said b-but they tried s-so hard but n-nothing could be d-done. I n-never got to t-tell him g-goodbye, Kuni...a-and now..."
I sucked in a sharp breath at the emotions overwhelming me, looking anywhere but at Hazuki's small frame being shaken with fresh sobs. I swallowed several times before gathering enough strength to pull her into my arms. She gripped the fabric of my shirt like a lifeline, salty water rapidly soaking my shoulder. Her cries were lost beneath the chaotic din of the emergency room, but their echoes resounded painfully in my chest. A group of paramedics rushed in a patient covered with flowing blood and gashes; I turned my head and hastily shut my eyes tight, silently fisting my hands around Hazuki's back.
But not a single tear of mine had fallen.
My chest heaved under a heavy weight, constricted with unbidden emotion, and I couldn't seem to find any air to breathe. Hadn't it... Had it not been my fault Shintaro was out in the typhoon? Was it not my unjustified opinion that had caused him to storm out of my apartment into the chaotic weather outside? I'd been so stubbornly adamant in my views, that I hadn't even given Shintaro's a chance. That's what made him leave. He just wanted...to share how happy he was. To share it with me, his best friend...and through my own fault I'd destroyed it all...all the happiness he had, that he could have had, and more.
A strangled noise escaped my throat as I resisted allowing myself to release all my building self-resentment. I couldn't be forgiven for what I'd done. All I could do was accept this punishment of boundless regret and guilt. This burden would be my retribution for destroying the lives and happiness of two people who so deserved it.
With what I'd done, I'd inevitably cause an immeasurable amount of grief. Why hadn't I stopped him? We always made up before. We'd never allowed a difference of opinion to get in the way of our friendship. So why now? How could I?
"I'm sorry...so sorry, Hazuki."
She sniffed loudly, raising her head at my quiet, regretful tone. "Kuni?..." she whispered.
"...It's my entire fault."
"K-Kuni? What are you..."
I gently gripped her arms as I moved her out of the way of several nurses wheeling a cart down the crowded hallway. I stared guiltily down at the floor, ashamed. "It's all my fault. That Shintaro died."
She gave me a confused look, wiping her eyes several times to watch my shrinking frame more clearly. She took a small step back. I loosened my grip, letting my arms fall to my side.
I took a large step back and bowed as low to her as I could. "If...if I had remembered about the storm. If I'd taken the initiative to resolve out disagreement. I could have stopped him, but I didn't. I knew, and yet I let him leave in such terrible conditions. It's my fault he got into an accident. Hazuki, I'm sorry."
I saw her inch forward to deny it. "Kuni, no..."
I halted her progression with a sharp warning. "Please. Just blame me for everything. I don't deserve your kindness...not anyone's anymore. I'll bear this on my own, so don't waste your time worrying for me."
Frantically, her weak hands grabbed at my sleeves to pull me up from my bow. I rose gradually, hesitant to see her expression. Surely, she would be angry, just as angry at me as Shintaro must have been.
Incredulous eyes stared up at me, glistening with fright and confusion. "Why would you say that?" she breathed. "Of course it's not..."
"It is," I responded bluntly.
"No." Tears welled up in her eyes at my honest insistence. Her fingers clutched my upper arms and shook me. I could hardly feel their ice cold touch when I glanced away, looking at everything yet nothing. Especially not her. "Kunihiko, no. That's not right. Stop saying that."
"It's true."
"Stop it!" she shouted. But it was so low that none but I heard it. "You can't think that. It's no one's fault. That's why it's an accident."
I pinched my eyes shut. "It wouldn't have happened if I'd stopped him from leaving!" I insisted. A few passerby shot a glance our way, but no one intervened. In a lower voice, I continued. "It's my fault that your happiness has been destroyed, Hazuki. Don't try to suggest otherwise—"
"I forgive you, then!" she cried. "Just stop this, Kunihiko. I'm begging you."
I met her scared eyes as she bit her lip, obviously holding in her sobs. She trembled with the enormous effort. Suddenly, I couldn't even stand to face her. It only made me feel guiltier. I was the one making her cry. Such a person couldn't be forgiven that easily.
"I'm sorry," I lamented under my breath, bowing once again.
She let me go with reluctance at my stubborn gesture. I heard her muffle her crying sounds with her hand, saw her feet swivel in the opposite direction on the floor as though she couldn't stand the sight of me. I gritted my teeth, lowering my eyes yet again.
"...for him?"
I heard Hazuki ask something through her tears, but I couldn't make it out. When I didn't answer, her footsteps approached me once more. They stopped a foot away from my head. She repeated herself.
Her words struck my heart, wounding it painfully. I nearly faltered at her resigned yet unbelievably mournful, heartbroken tone of voice.
"Just once, Kuni. Won't you at least cry for his death?"
I froze, the words sinking deep into my consciousness. Shintaro was...he really was...
I couldn't cry. His death was my entire fault. I didn't deserve the sweet release that mourning would grant me. I'd carry this sorrow and guilt in my heart for the rest of my life, in place of the happiness I could have gained, but that Shintaro would never again have a chance to.
As though granting a small concession, a single tear slid down the bridge of my nose and dripped onto the floor beneath me before I made my final resolution. Ignoring the dull, throbbing ache pulsing in my chest, I straightened my back and strongly returned Hazuki's steady gaze.
She must have seen it in my eyes then, because her tears welled up again, eyes narrowing with remorse. She covered her face with her hands, sliding against the walk down to the cold tile floor we stood on. "Shintaro..." was all she had left to say.
I followed her, resting my aching muscles against the plaster wall. My presence was all the comfort I could give Hazuki now. Anything more would be overstepping the boundaries forged between us at my decision.
The clutter decorating the emergency room's hallway cleared as the night dragged on, and silence overwhelmed our distraught selves until finally it was time to return to our homes.
The journey back to the reality of emptiness and darkness that would become my life was the longest I'd ever experienced before.
And it was everything I deserved, no less and no more.
"Kunihiko."
From behind me, a gentle voice called out.
"Kunihiko."
It was kind and caring and reliable, and soothed the flaming wound in my heart like nothing I'd ever expected would be able to.
"Kunihiko."
It lulled me into a state of serenity just from its soft sound.
I turned around, wanting to find the source of that voice even if it meant turning my back on my determined resolutions. That voice; it sounded like the very epitome of salvation.
As if floating on air, I swiveled my body around.
"Kunihiko," my fiancé breathed in relief. A warm pressure encircled my left arm; I glanced down belatedly to see and remember it was her arm. "I called you so many times. What are you doing spacing out like that in the middle of the sidewalk? We have to hurry or we'll be late."
I forced out a shameful chuckle in response, unable to find any words to speak. The flash of the crossing light saved me from having to say anything.
As we made our way down the streets of Tokyo at a slightly rushed pace, I took a moment to gather my bearings. Where had that memory come from? It had been so long since the day Shintaro died, and seemed even longer still since I'd felt such a constricting, unbearable weight on my heart. I thought I'd let it go at long last. She'd finally given me the strength to. And yet, at such an unexpected time, that day returned to haunt me.
We paused at a crosswalk, surrounded on all sides by people clad in business and casual attire. Amongst the hustle, I took the opportunity to rub my free hand over the space where my heart beat strongest, attempting to subtly ease the cramping feeling in my chest. I breathed deeply while keeping as straight a face as possible so as not to unnecessarily worry the woman beside me.
Sensing eyes on me, I flicked my eyes down. She gave me a concerned, questioning smile. I removed my hand and placed it back inside my pocket before she noticed it and returned her look with a reassuring expression of my own.
The light we waited for flashed red. The thuds and clacks of our resumed footsteps barely reached my ears over the sound of my thumping heart. I metaphorically heaved with all my might to shove down the memories resurfacing with every passing second and focus on the task I remembered we had before us.
The two of us were on our way to dinner with our families in anticipation of our impending marriage. Though it had taken us a while to sort out all the details we needed to take care of beforehand, we finally felt prepared enough to announce our relationship to our parents. We may not have been related by blood, but our families were still connected. To them, we were still simply an uncle and a niece. Hopefully, our announcement tonight would change that and our engagement would be blessed by the people whose approval we needed the most.
Perhaps it was the eagerness and stress over this event that had brought back the memory of the night Shintaro passed away in the accident. Either way, I didn't want to let those burdening memories get in the way of our goal tonight. I tried to push them to the back of my mind as we halted again at a crosswalk.
The restaurant's location was only a few blocks away. My fiancé's grip around my arm tightened slightly as its exterior came into view. I put my hand over her wrist supportively.
She gazed up at me, anxiety evident in her clouded expression. "Do you…" she began, but hesitated before going on. She coughed to clear her suddenly clogged throat. In a stronger voice she persisted, "Do you think they'll accept us?"
I smiled and nodded whole-heartedly. I didn't believe our parents to be so close-minded that they wouldn't be able to see our current relationship past our former uncle/niece status.
It had been over a year since we'd been together, and in that time our love had grown far past what I'd ever expected it to in any relationship I would have, considering the emotional restrictions I'd placed on my heart. In a word, she was my savior, my wife, my treasure. Without her, I doubted I would have been able to move forward with my time. She repaired my malfunctioning mindset and jump-started me back on the path to a happy future. I'd never be as grateful for something as I was for her.
And I had total faith our families would understand. Maybe not right away. I myself had experienced a hard enough time understanding that I'd begun to harbor feelings beside those of what an "uncle" would normally hold towards his "niece." I'd had an even more difficult time accepting it.
Yet here we were today. I was fully prepared for the shock our families would feel when they heard the news, and for any retribution that might come my way for it. As long as I had her by my side, I knew I could handle it.
So it was with complete faith and honesty that I answered her question. "It'll be a confusing shock at first, I'm sure. But they're good people. They'll understand. We can believe in them."
The corners of her mouth turned up. She still appeared a bit nervous, but my answer had comforted her. She squeezed and then loosened her grip. "Thanks, Kunihiko."
As I put my right foot down on the pavement of the street, memories of Shintaro's last visit flitted through my mind. He'd brought up so many subjects that at the time I hadn't been ready to discuss: commitment, weddings, marriage, a home, a family, and the rest of a lifetime. Now that I had her with me, I could finally understand his feelings from back then. I could understand why Hazuki married her husband. I could grasp it all in my hands.
And maybe it was the comprehension of those sentiments that distracted me so greatly from the reality of my world as I crossed the street together with my fiancé. It was the resurfaced memories of the night of Shintaro's death that distracted me from noticing when a rushed man shoved past her, knocking her straight on the shoulder and causing her to stumble back from my reach and onto the ground. The thumping of my heart that drowned out the sound of her call as she bent down to retrieve a fallen item from the middle of the clearing road. The elation from achieving that long-awaited moment in life where I could honestly say I was happy again that slowed my reflexes to the point where I couldn't react to the blaring of a truck's horn and terrified screaming of pedestrians until it was far past too late.
Belatedly, I realized that where she had been before was not where my fiancé was now. In slow motion, as though moving through a viscous liquid, I raised my head to hear people in the street gathering around a single spot on the road, a commotion centered around horror building to a deafening clamor. The functioning of my brain slowed to a pace far behind the progression of time. Everything around me seemed to freeze as my eyes came into contact with the limp form in the center of the group.
My mind couldn't wrap itself around the sight. I inched closer, shaky steps gaining momentum gradually until I broke into a run. Sensing my distress on a deeper level, the crowd parted to let me through.
My eyes widened of their own volition, refusing to believe the sight before me. A bloody body, clearly broken in some places, lying motionless on the wet pavement. Horror overwhelmed me until I couldn't see anything else, not even the few kind souls bowed down on the ground in what was surely a futile attempt to help the gravely wounded. They looked at me apprehensively as I collapsed onto beside her.
I couldn't hear their questions. Couldn't stop myself from wondering why she wasn't moving. Why her chest didn't rise. Why she wasn't kneeling beside me. Why she didn't smile when I sought out her eyes.
I couldn't hear the sirens approaching from the distance. Couldn't stop myself from placing my hand against her cooling cheek. From shaking her slack shoulder. From wrapping my arms around her fragile, beaten body. From holding her against me to feel a heartbeat that wasn't there.
I couldn't hold back my tears when the appalling truth finally hit me full on. The paramedics arrived and lifted her unresisting, lifeless form from my arms. I couldn't move from my position on the ground.
I couldn't comprehend anything else but her name falling out from between my dry lips. I raced after her as they put her into the ambulance, screaming her name as it sped ahead without me and I watched helplessly as she was taken farther and farther away. Into a place where I couldn't reach her again.
My knees hit the ground. I curled into myself, soundless sobs racking my body. The sky darkened above me to the point where I could see nothing else, but her bright smile flashing in and out of existence. The world around me steadily dissolved into a relieving nothingness that shielded me from the relentless sorrow returning to consume the entirety of my being.
With the blackness, my consciousness returned. I shot up from my prone position, waking up to sunlight drifting through the blinds into my familiar room. I began to grasp my location, and my being.
I was not out on the cold, dark streets, nor in a crowded hospital hallway. I was in my condo, in my bed, and everything I'd just seen had all been a dream.
Sweat covered me all over and made me stick to the bed sheets. My breathing labored, I hastily scrambled to open the top drawer on my bedside cabinet, plunging my hand into its empty interior and reaching deep in, to the farthest corner. There, my fingers circled around a single object which I clasped tightly in my hand. I removed it from the drawer, holding it against me as the only known comfort I had left.
As I held it as close to my heart as I possibly could, feeling the edges of the stone digging into the palm of my hand, I purposefully diverted my gaze to the sunlight shining outside and tried to ease the painful aching of my heart.
Paintings on the wall. The lamp on the desk. The chair in front of it. Plants on the shelves. Books stacked beside them.
I focused all of my attention on everything, anything that wasn't the one thing that would break down all my walls again, all the defenses I'd built up as time had gone on.
The once warm and occupied, now cold and empty side of the bed opposite mine—
The space beside me that would never be filled again.
