The light was so bright that he could not sleep, but when he woke, it was because a shadow had fallen across him.
Someone was looming over him, a face he thought he could recognise, but - who?
Speaking of which... who am I?
"Get up, Seiichi. We must go," the person said.
Seiichi. That was his name. "I -" He coughed. His throat was parched. "I can't do that."
The person looked at him. "We must go," he repeated.
"I can't. I've got this illness and I've lost control of my body; I can't move."
It was as if the person did not hear him. He threw back the covers, easily lifted Seiichi from his bed and lowered him again so that Seiichi stood.
The ground was soft beneath his feet. Seiichi looked down. He was standing up. He was standing on sand. There was sand between his toes, and he wriggled them, amused by the feeling of the movement and grains rubbing against his skin, amused by the simple idea of being able to move.
Then the person grabbed Seiichi's wrist and yanked hard. Seiichi stumbled forward as an arm wrapped around him protectively. He saw then that the bed he had been lying in was sinking into the sand, the sound it made just like many, many hourglasses running at the same time. It was gone in seconds, swallowed by the sand so entirely no one could tell anything had ever been there.
Seiichi pushed himself away from the person who had just saved his life. This was a little embarrassing. "Thanks. I didn't know it'd do that." Finally, he brushed the hair away from his eyes to take a better look. The person in front of him was a man - no, a boy - actually no, a man - a boy-man. Perhaps a man, or at least someone at that awkward age of being no longer a boy, but not yet a man. He was taller than Seiichi, and was dressed in boring black. He wore what looked like a costume from a cult movie, leather trousers and a long leather jacket that skimmed just above the ground, with no shirt underneath. In his left hand was a sheathed sword.
"Who are you?" Seiichi asked, feeling unusually shy in his hospital-issued, pale-green pyjamas that screamed disease and sickness.
It seemed like the boy-man wasn't going to answer, but Seiichi stared insistently and repeated his question.
This time the boy-man turned his back to Seiichi. His sword clanged within its sheath. "We must go; this place is not safe."
"Where to?"
"Where you need to be."
Seiichi looked around them. There was nothing but sky and sand within sight. He shrugged and followed the boy-man. This would at least humour him for a while. It wasn't like there was much else he could do in any case.
The boy-man needed a name. Boy-man sounded too stupid. If he wasn't going to tell Seiichi his name, then Seiichi would have to make one up. Swordsman? Leather Guy? Or...
Well, with that expanse of torso surrounded by black, he reminded Seiichi of a...
"Mr. Penguin." Seiichi smiled when the boy-man paused and arched an eyebrow at him. "That's you."
Mr. Penguin said little and did not even protest at the nickname he was given. He walked side-by-side with Seiichi, eyes always watchful of the vast emptiness around them.
Seiichi's attempts to strike a conversation were mostly thwarted.
"Mm." Mr. Penguin responded for the fifth time as Seiichi described his debilitating illness, his footsteps never slowing. They had been walking on the warm sand for a while, though Seiichi could not tell how long had passed.
"I'm sure I hadn't been able to move until you got me out of bed. How did you do that? How did you make me move?"
"Mm."
"Come on, there's nobody else for me to talk to."
Mr. Penguin glanced at him, his eyebrows knotting and looking slightly exasperated. "What do you want to talk about?"
"I was just telling you about being sick."
"But you're not sick anymore."
Seiichi opened his mouth, then closed it. Right. So what else could he talk about? "Why don't you tell me about yourself?" he suggested. He was talking to someone with a sword, in the middle of a cool desert. This man seemed to know something and Seiichi would not be left in the dark.
"Answer your own question first," said Mr. Penguin.
Seiichi stopped mid-step. Mr. Penguin paused, too, just one step ahead of him.
"I don't know," Seiichi said. He looked down, seeing the man's feet in front of him, shoeless and covered in sand, just like his own. "This is going to sound strange, but I didn't even remember my name until you called it. I don't know who I am. But I do know I have a sickness and I'm not supposed to be able to walk like this." He looked up again, knowing his voice was starting to shake but there was nothing he could do about it. Which was more frightening, trapped in his own body or being able to move but not knowing who he was? The two were so different he couldn't make the comparison. "That's all I know. I can't tell you anything else."
Mr. Penguin studied him and said, very solemnly, "then I can't tell you about me."
"Then why don't you tell me about me?"
"I can't do that either. It's not allowed."
A sudden gust of wind blew sand into Seiichi's eyes. He squeezed them shut, arms hugging himself as the temperature suddenly dropped. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but when he looked again, the sky seemed to have darkened a bit. Mr. Penguin eyes narrowed, and he stripped off his long jacket, putting it on Seiichi's shoulders.
Mr. Penguin started walking again right away. Seiichi took large steps to catch up, the hem of the heavy jacket dragging on the sand. "Are you not cold?"
"No."
With a slight pout, Seiichi pulled the jacket around him better and followed his guide. It seemed like this was going to be an oh-so-interesting journey.
He woke up.
Seiichi blinked. The man he dubbed Mr. Penguin (but not so much a penguin anymore now that he wasn't wearing the jacket) was awake and lying beside him, shielding him from the wind with his body. Seiichi himself was cocooned in the leather, warm and comfortable. Unlike the first few nights where they found shelter beside large rocks that randomly sprouted from the sand, last night they had no choice but to rest in the open.
Seiichi sat up quickly. "Sorry. Did I sleep for long? Are you cold?"
"No." Mr. Penguin stood and extended a hand to help Seiichi up.
"Are we walking again?" Seiichi draped the jacket over his own shoulders once more. Mr. Penguin's hand was very warm; he wasn't lying about not being cold. "We've walked for three days already."
"Tarundoru! The only way to get anywhere is to move towards it." Mr. Penguin frowned at him, looking a little shocked, as if he expected better from Seiichi.
"Tarundoru to you, too! I was only asking! You're always looking for a chance to use 'tarundoru' on me - " Seiichi stopped abruptly, blinking up at the man. "What did I just say?"
"I don't know," said Mr. Penguin.
They began to walk again. Just like before, Seiichi had a lot of questions, but he decided he wasn't going to ask them. There was no point in asking. Every time he tried, Mr. Penguin just had a slightly tortured look that made Seiichi want to pet him on the head (that hair looked very nice and soft), which was really rather embarrassing, seeing as he had no idea who this man was. He didn't even know who he was himself.
All things considered, he should be very wary and afraid. But he wasn't. Mr. Penguin was here with him. And although Mr. Penguin never told him much and walked around with a sword, Seiichi somehow knew he could trust him. After all, this man had rescued him from the hospital bed and showed him he was no longer sick. He felt familiar. Seiichi was sure he knew him, but he just forgot what he knew and for one reason or another, Mr. Penguin wasn't allowed to tell him anything.
He decided that if he couldn't ask anything about their journey, then he could at least make a casual conversation.
"Why this outfit?" Seiichi let his gaze sweep up and down, not hiding the fact that he admired the muscular form of Mr. Penguin 's body. He had a strong back, very wide shoulders, nice hips. It was probably the result of years of... sword practice, perhaps? "The trousers, the jacket, they're a bit unusual. You like this type of clothing?"
"It was given to me. The design is standard. It's fine, quite comfortable."
"But penguin-like." Seiichi grinned.
Mr. Penguin looked at himself briefly. "I don't see how."
When the man wasn't looking alert and deadly, he could look quite cute, Seiichi thought. He decided to keep the joke to himself. "How about that - " he gestured at the katana. " - you always hold it like that? Don't people strap it to their waists or carry it on the back?"
His hand holding out the katana, Mr. Penguin's tilted his head at Seiichi, completely confused. "But how would you use it then?"
"Like..." Seiichi's right hand reached to his left side, gripping an imaginary katana and pulling it out like he had seen in Edo period dramas on TV. "...this!"
Mr. Penguin stopped walking, his eyes settling on Seiichi's form, frowning at the bent knees and extended arm.
"That's one of the stupidest things I've ever seen."
"...Oh."
Seiichi half expected to see tumbleweed rolling across the endless sand. He stood straight again and adjusted the jacket on his shoulders. Great, apparently he was stupid.
"Let's go. We can't afford to waste any time."
Seiichi followed again. Mr. Penguin seemed to have an internal compass; he was able to tell which way to go when every direction looked the same.
"Are we in a hurry?"
"Aa."
"Where to?"
"Where you need to be."
Mr. Penguin was not caught out. Seiichi sighed. "So how soon do I need to get there, and how far away is it?"
"As soon as possible. Every minute counts." The discussion of time seemed to have disturbed Mr. Penguin a little inside, stirring up an urgency he had been keeping to himself. "It's not far, nor is it close; I can't give you a distance. But we must get there soon as we can."
Asking for the negative wasn't Seiichi's style - not that he could remember what his style was - but curiosity made him do it. "If we get there too late?"
Mr. Penguin's lips pressed tight together, pale. "We won't. We won't lose," he said after a long while, half mumbling under his breath. "Losing is not an option."
Walking the way they did, it was difficult to notice the passage of time. In the last few days, they rested when it got dark. They never ate, but Seiichi didn't feel hungry. What kept him going, he didn't know, but he knew why he managed to stay calm.
He stole a look at the man beside him. Wherever they were heading to, when they got there, Seiichi must thank him properly.
They arrived at a town.
It was as sudden as it sounds: one minute, Seiichi was thinking that he had to thank Mr. Penguin and the next minute, there was a town right in front of him and he had not noticed they had been walking towards it. In fact, he was sure it hadn't been there a moment ago. If there was something as big as a town coming up he surely would have seen it over the horizon long ago.
It didn't seem to be their destination, though, judging by the look on Mr. Penguin's face. "We go through here?"
Mr Penguin nodded.
Seiichi couldn't remember when it was he last saw other people - so many of them, ordinary townsfolk going about their own business. But it was the town itself, not its people, that caught his interest. It was a colourful place, full of buildings that made Seiichi think of gingerbread houses, decorated with frosting and candies. The air was filled with the aroma of food. Nothing seemed real - then again, which part of his adventure so far looked real?
"We can't afford to dally, Seiichi."
With a shrug, Seiichi continued on. Mr. Penguin looked perfectly serious and he didn't mind not staying around. There were more important things to think about than funny-looking architecture. It took them some time to get to the other end of the town, then they realised there was one problem.
"Um, gate's locked." A guard standing by a huge gate told Seiichi and Mr. Penguin. He was sweating a little, the sheen of it made more obvious because he was dark-skinned and his head was shaved.
"We need to go this way," said Seiichi.
"Sorry." The guard shifted, uncomfortable. "I'd open them for you, but we've lost the key."
Seiichi glanced at Mr. Penguin briefly. "Are there other exits?"
"We've locked them all... and all the keys have gone missing." The guard ducked sheepishly. "One of us has misplaced them. We're looking, though, just don't know how long it'll take..."
Stepping back, Seiichi looked up. The gates was made of solid metal and the walls smooth stone, with nowhere to grip if they tried to scale over. But if all the exits were locked, how were they going to get out?
Mr. Penguin was obviously thinking the same thing. He stepped closer to the guard. "We'll help find the keys. Do you have any clue where they might be?"
The guard rubbed his shaved head. "Man, I wish I do. The guy who had them last night, he put them somewhere... but lately he's getting more and more forgetful. He's gotten quite depressed since a friend of ours went to hospital. When he's like that, he doesn't remember things." He gestured for Seiichi and Mr. Penguin to follow him.
They followed a cobbled path towards a hut. A sign on the door said "Mess Room". Inside, there was a man with red hair sitting at a table, his arms folded on the furniture and his head resting on them. He didn't look up when the door opened, and showed no interest at the visitors.
"Hey," the guard proded the redhead on the shoulder, "you remember where you've put the keys yet?"
"Uh..."
The guard turned towards Seiichi and Mr. Penguin, giving them a helpless shrug.
Seiichi bent down a little. "We need to get out of town urgently. We need the key to the gate."
The redhead buried his face in his arms again. "Dunno. Forgot where I've put it."
Seiichi helped himself to a seat, resting a hand on the redhead's shoulder. "Hey..."
"Go away."
Pulling back, Seiichi sighed. He looked up at Mr. Penguin. "Go and get us a cake. Doesn't matter what kind."
Mr. Penguin nodded and left, no questions asked. When he returned, he didn't just have cake, but also some cheap-and-cheerful plates and forks, and cans of soda as well.
Seiichi made everyone sit down and cut the cake ceremoniously. "This looks delicious," he said, carefully lifting the chocolate sign on the top with the complimentary plastic knife. "You can have this bit," he cut a generous slice, sliding it onto a plate and putting the chocolate sign on top. "Mr. Penguin gets a small one." He passed the next slice on, and winked at Mr. Penguin. "But you can have my strawberry." An arm reached across the table to add the piece of fruit to Mr. Penguin's plate. Seiichi grinned and winked. Mr. Penguin rolled his eyes.
Seiichi cut two more regular-sized slices for himself and the guard, and started on his with less manners than a monkey, speaking with the plastic fork still in his mouth.
"Hmm! This is so good!"
"Yeah, it's the best bakery in town." The redhead eyed the box the cake came in.
"It's a famous shop?"
"Sorta. Their chocolate cakes are the best. I like their fruit tarts as well. A friend of mine likes the cheesecake..." the redhead sat up a bit. "But the ones I make are better."
"You can bake?"
"There's nothing a genius can't do."
Seiichi hummed with his throat.
"The secret's the base. People tend to just think about the cheese, but the key to a good cheesecake's the biscuit base. It's like-"
"You can't make anything good if you have a bad foundation."
"Exactly! That's what my friend says too!" The redhead was eating in huge mouthfuls, cleaning his plate in no time. "Let's make a cheesecake to take to him!" He turned to his dark-skinned friend. "You'll get the ingredients."
"Me?"
Later on, when the redhead was bent over the table making a shopping list, the guard went to Seiichi. "I don't know how you did it, but thanks."
Seiichi smiled. "I think what he loves isn't food, but the occasion of enjoying something with his friends. Some people say eating is a celebration, and what's a celebration without friends?"
The guard nodded, taking in Seiichi's words. "I'll remember. But how did you know he loves food?"
"AH! I KNOW WHERE IT IS!" A chair fell back with a clatter when the redhead stood up. Going over to Seiichi, he put his hand in the pocket of the leather jacket on Seiichi's shoulders, and pulled out a key. "Here you go!"
Seiichi heard the gate behind them, hinges squeaking, followed by a hollow sound of the gate shutting, but when he turned to look, there was no gate, no town. What was behind him was the same as what was in front of him now: a forest. Not a very dense one, but a forest none-the-less. A drastic change from days spent in that desert-like place.
At least Mr. Penguin was still here, not mysteriously disappearing along with the town.
Once again, they walked. There was no path to follow, but Seiichi trusted his guide to lead them the right way. The air was cool and damp, and the soil beneath his feet a bit wet and slippery, but they pressed on, slowing only when Seiichi occasionally tripped on a tree root or a particularly sharp rock pressed into the sole of his foot. Strangely, nothing seemed to be affecting Mr. Penguin at all, it was as if all the obstacles were deliberately aimed at delaying Seiichi.
Mr. Penguin held out his hand when Seiichi nearly fell over for the third time. The temptation to take the hand was there. Seiichi knew, somehow, that he would have a much easier time if he did. But he wanted to do it for himself.
Mr. Penguin understood the resolve he saw in Seiichi's eyes and smiled.
When they slept, they did what was practical, huddling close to each other to keep warm, the long jacket spread over them both like a blanket. Seiichi learned the scent of the woods, mingled with the clean smell of Mr. Penguin's hair. He slept well despite the discomfort.
The next day, they found a path to follow.
The day after that, they found a sign along the path.
Ahead, the path splits into two. One will lead you out of this forest, the other will lead you nowhere.
At the fork you will find two men who know which path you should take. One of them speaks the truth, the other always lies.
In order to find your way forward, ask one of them one question.
Seiichi glanced at the man beside him. Eyebrows furrowed, Mr. Penguin seemed deep in thought, but not too worried, even when they arrived at the point where the path diverged, just as the sign said. Right at the fork was a bungalow.
Exchanging a look with his companion, Seiichi went to the door and knocked. A young man with brown hair and glasses answered.
Seiichi wasted no time. "Hi. I'm looking for a way to leave this forest."
The young man inclined his head gently. "We've been expecting you. Please come in." The door opened further. The young man turned towards someone else in the house. "They've arrived."
"Who?" asked the person at the open-plan kitchen. He had spiky white hair that was obviously unnatural, with a rat-tail tied back roughly using a rubber band.
"The people we've been waiting for," Glasses said while inviting Seiichi and Mr. Penguin to sit down.
"We were expecting guests?" Rat-tail asked again, even though the kettle had just clicked and he was already making four cups of tea.
Seiichi's eyes darted between the two: which one was the liar?
Rat-tail and Glasses brought the tea over. Seiichi sipped it politely. "I found a sign that said I should find out from you which way to go."
"Ah, that sign," said Rat-tail.
"It does say that," said Glasses.
"It also says only one of you will tell me the truth," Seiichi added, carefully avoiding asking any questions.
Rat-tail took the spoon from Glasses's tea saucer and stirred his tea idly. Sharp eyes looked over Seiichi, as if judging him. "So what are you going to do?"
That was the question. Seiichi was supposed to go as quickly as he could, but if he made the wrong decision here, he would be lost and who knew how long it would take for them to get out again? Probably even Mr. Penguin wouldn't be able to guide him then. What he needed to do was find out which one of them told the truth, and then ask him the way forward.
An honest man living with a pathological liar...
Seiichi put down his tea cup. "It's strange that, if you two are such different people, you could live together like this."
Rat-tail twirled his hair with a finger. "I call it a mutually beneficial arrangement."
"We are less different than we may seem. As things go, we get on quite well," Glasses said, his smile amicable.
Their answers were different, but basically both said they had no problems with each other. This couldn't be right. By appearance, one could assume Rat-tail was the liar, but... he felt familiar. And Glasses, too, and the guard and the redhead from before - just like Mr. Penguin, these were people Seiichi was supposed to know well. Back in the town, he hadn't had the chance to answer the guard's question, but he somehow just knew the redhead liked cake. He couldn't say how, but he did.
These were people he held close to his heart.
Seiichi stood.
"Sorry it's a bit abrupt, but we've got to go."
"Sure, we understand."
The four of them stood at the fork.
"Please ask one of us a question, then," said Glasses.
Seiichi smiled. "Which path will lead me out of this forest?"
"Which one of us are you asking?" Rat-tail asked.
"Either. It doesn't matter."
Rat-tail pointed to the left. Seiichi's hand closed on Mr. Penguin's wrist, tugging him that way. He waved at the other two. "Thanks for the tea."
They waved back. "Good luck!"
Seiichi didn't look back. Even if he did, he was sure he wouldn't see the house anymore.
"If there are two paths to choose from, and a pair of identical twins who know which way to go, but one always lies and the other always tells the truth," Seiichi said to Mr. Penguin, his footsteps light - there were no tree roots or rocks to trip him over anymore, "and you're only allowed to ask one of them one question, there is a way to ask that would always tell you which is the correct path."
Mr. Penguin arched an eyebrow and waited for Seiichi to reveal the answer.
"You should ask either of them, 'if I asked the other person which path is correct, what would he say?'."
"Why?"
"It's a classic riddle. Let's say Path A is correct and Path B leads you nowhere. If you asked the liar, he would lie to you about what the honest man would say, so he would say Path B. If you asked the honest man, he would tell you honestly what the liar would say, so he would also say Path B. In short, whatever answer you get, just go the other way."
"Hm." Mr. Penguin considered this. "But that wasn't the question you asked, and you went the way you were told."
"That's because," said Seiichi, a little smug, "they're my friends, and I don't make friends with liars. People may say things about them, but I trust my own judgement."
It was the sign that lied.
Seiichi opened his eyes to find himself in a different place. Another town. Unlike the one before, which looked like it came straight out of a children's book, this one seemed modern and "real" - tarmac roads, motor cars, school children with little red schoolbags, convenience stores at street corners, street signs with names that tickled the edges of his mind.
"Are we almost there?" he asked, although knowing Mr. Penguin wouldn't answer. "Are you tired? Did you sleep at all?" He had woken up on a bench in a park, his head on Mr. Penguin's lap.
"Aa. I'm fine."
"Get rest when you need it. You always like to make yourself look invincible," Seiichi had no idea where that knowledge came from, but he kept talking anyway, "and then you drop dead on me. Talk about setting a good example."
"You're not in a position to talk, Seiichi."
A hand brushed back long locks of wavy hair. Seiichi heaved a sigh. "I suppose."
Nobody on the streets paid any attention to them, even though Seiichi was still in pyjamas and a jacket that dragged on the ground, and Mr. Penguin bare-chested, with a sword in his hand. The clanging of metal in its sheath was starting to become a comforting sound.
Seiichi wondered what it'd feel like to hold a sword in his hand.
"That's important to you, isn't it?" Seiichi pointed at the sword.
"Mm."
"Could I... would it be okay if I - "
"I'm going to crush you."
Seiichi's back hit a wall, knocking the breath out of him so that he couldn't even make a sound. When he steadied himself, he saw someone else on the narrow residential street they were walking through. Mr. Penguin was fighting him, drawing his sword after shoving Seiichi out of the way. His opponent was a young swordsman, no older than a child, with a mess of curly short hair and frighteningly quick movements, darting left and right as Mr. Penguin attacked.
When the two swords collided, sharp edge sliding against sharp edge to bring Mr. Penguin and his opponent close together, Seiichi gasped. The child raised a leg and kicked hard, and the two jumped back, away from each other.
Mr. Penguin raised his sword, positioning it horizontally in front of him, two hands on the hilt, his knees bent. "Come on then, kid."
The child ran towards Mr. Penguin. In the final blow, the hilt of Mr. Penguin's sword connected with the child's abdomen and he stumbled forward a few steps, a hand hugging where he had been hit, before collapsing onto the ground.
Mr. Penguin eyed his defeated opponent.
"DAMMIT! I'M GOING TO CRUSH YOU ALL! I'M GOING TO BE NUMBER ONE!" The child shouted at the top of his voice, fists clenched, his entire body shaking with anger and frustration. And somehow, Seiichi understood that fighting spirit, that desire to become the best. He also knew why Mr. Penguin didn't use the edge of his sword.
Seiichi made his way to Mr. Penguin. "He'll be all right; he'll become stronger."
"Hmph." Mr. Penguin turned to go.
Out of the corner of Seiichi's eyes, the child staggered to his feet, the sword in his hand once more. "Crush you," he muttered, and Seiichi saw bloodshot eyes fixed on Mr. Penguin's back. He was going to attack once more. "I'll crush you."
Without thinking, Seiichi grabbed the sword from Mr. Penguin's hand.
"Best of one set match."
The scene changed in the blink of the eye. They weren't at the street anymore. Seiichi looked around and saw he was on a sports court and in his hand, he didn't have metal, but a racket.
Mr. Penguin was on the sideline, standing beside the umpire's chair, arms crossed.
On the other side of the court was the child from just now. He tossed a yellow ball in the air and served.
Seiichi's body moved of its own accord, arm swinging to return the serve. The ball connected with taut strings and he could feel the resistance going up his arm, that sweet tremor that said he hit it perfectly, on the right spot. The ball flew back to the other side of the court, cruising just above the net, flying towards a spot just beside the child's left foot. But the child saw it coming and rushed up to the net, his split step making his reaction just that much faster. He hit the ball back cleanly.
"Not so easy," Seiichi smiled, easily moving to the right to lob the ball back to his opponent, laughing as the child dashed back to the baseline.
The volley was fierce and he revelled in it, feeling his whole body come alive; he wasn't sick anymore. "Come on, you can do better than this!" he told his opponent, not to taunt but to encourage, his grin widening when the child stepped up his game.
Seiichi knew this game. He knew this game like he knew his friends. He loved it like he loved them.
"6-0. Game, set and match."
The child walked up to the net, panting, but grinning too. "I'll beat you one day."
"I wait for that day." Seiichi reached forward to play with the child's hair before going back to Mr. Penguin. He didn't have the leather jacket on his shoulders anymore. Instead, it was a yellow and black sports jersey that matched the sports kit Mr. Penguin was wearing. He rather liked its design and it was, indeed, comfortable.
The umpire climbed down from the chair. He was a little taller than Mr. Penguin, and wore his jersey zipped all the way up. "That was well-played, Seiichi," the voice was calming, and the smile gentle. Seiichi smiled back.
"Do I get a prize?"
"As a matter of fact, you do." The umpire gave Seiichi something. "Do you know what to do with it?"
Seiichi turned the object around in his hands. "Ah, of course I do." He grinned, and put the baseball cap on Mr. Penguin's head. "Here you go, Genichirou."
He gasped for air like a man who had just been on the verge of drowning. His throat was dry and the air made it burn, but he didn't care.
He turned his head to the side. Someone was sitting next to the bed, half collapsed and pressing something into his hand. His fingers were a little numb, but he knew that rough fuzziness. A tennis ball.
He tried to speak, but his throat hurt too much, so he tried to move his hand instead, which was almost just as difficult. And so he tried to do both at the same time, just as he always did when faced with a difficulty.
It worked. The person asleep on his arm stirred, lifting his face and blinking blearily, his hair a mess. His face had lines pressed into it from the folds of the bed sheet.
"Geni..."
It was then that Genichirou jumped awake. The plastic chair he had been sitting on fell back with a loud noise. "Seiichi!" Eyes flew wide open. "Oh my - " He reached for the attention button just next to the bed, pressing down hard on it. "You're awake!" He kept pushing the button, jamming it down hard with his thumb as if that was the only thing he knew to do. "I... Seiichi... you... " He glanced at the door, then back at Seiichi. "I'll go and get a doctor. And call your family - "
Genichirou stopped moving when fingers wrapped around his wrist and tugged weakly.
"Come here." Seiichi rasped, using all his strength to put his arms around Genichirou when Genichirou bent down for him. He could feel Genichirou's heart beat frantically against his chest as arms carefully rested around him, unsure where he could touch and where there were still stitches and wounds from the surgery, waiting to heal. "What happened to me?"
"You went into a coma after your operation. It's been ten days. They said that if someone doesn't come back within two weeks, there's almost no chance they'd ever wake up... I thought..."
Seiichi squeezed harder. "Thank you for staying by my side."
"I thought I was going to lose you," Genichirou whispered into Seiichi's hair.
Seiichi closed his eyes. This warmth in his arms, the smell of Genichirou's hair, he knew what it felt like - but now, it was real. Those had been the longest ten days of his life and it was this man, with his tenacity, determination and care, who guided him out of that maze.
"Thank you, Genichirou... thank you."
-end-