This is a birthday gift for my loyal supporter, Abbie. The xReader version is posted on AO3. It has 3 chapters, and I'll release them all within a week or so. :)

Happy reading!

Chapter One

I never thought that a high school reunion would be tiring rather than entertaining. It's only been five minutes since we cooked our shabu-shabu at Nabezo Shinjuku, but the people sitting around me have revealed more things than they should. One can't stop boasting about his annual salary as a project manager in a private-owned oil and gas company, while the pregnant woman next to him keeps describing the struggles she and her husband had to go through to have their second child.

It's been a decade since we graduated, and I have a hard time remembering everyone's names. I occasionally had lunch with those who attended the same university as me, but I rarely met them outside of the campus area. Sometimes I complied with my old volleyball teammates' request of going out somewhere together, but as years went by, we got stuck in our own hectic routine and forgot about each other for months. That said, I don't see the point of bothering myself with the affairs of people whom I'll never talk to after we part ways tonight.

"What about you, Akaashi? What do you do? Are you in a relationship?" A woman who appears older than her age asks me. It might be because of her thick purple-dominated makeup, but I can't recall how she looked back then.

"I'm working as a data analyst for Mizuno here in Tokyo, and no, I'm not in a relationship or seeing anyone," I answer concisely, hoping that this doesn't lead her to another question.

"Ah, really? What a waste…"

I smile, feeling proud that my trick works on the prying individuals who are far more interested in dating lives than other endless subjects. They can ask about the next stepping stone in my career or investing in China's growing markets, but they don't. Many adults have been trapped in this situation at least ten times a year especially during family gatherings. It's a strange habit to keep since most Japanese don't settle down when they're still in their twenties.

"Hey, Akaashi. Look at all the pretty ladies around us. Why don't you go introduce yourself to some? I'm a guy, but I must admit that you look fine and your job pays well," the project manager adds, and I wonder if he can stop mentioning money. I glance at his fingers and find no ring, which means he might be just as single as I am.

"How about you?" I brace myself and ask.

"Me? Hahaha! I broke up with my girlfriend of two years. She cheated on me with a younger man, but it's a story for another time. I don't want to make stomach sick when we're in an all-you-can-eat restaurant."

Was it because you're too materialistic? I think to myself because I'm polite enough not to say whatever I feel out loud. As much as I don't enjoy my time here, I must leave a good impression. I've lived my life calmly so I won't ruin my reputation over something frivolous. My blunt side can only be seen by people I'm close with, but none of them have arrived. Once they're here, I'll move to a new table with them so I can appreciate this event a little more.

"But Akaashi, didn't you date that girl who was a year below us? What's her name again? She was the president of the student council," says a guy with glasses who's been quiet.

"Ah! Fujiwara Kaori!" another woman exclaims.

There's a soft tug in my heart when I hear that name, but I hide it by shaking my head. "I never dated her. She was like a sister."

"Really? Was it only a gossip then?" The guy pouts. "But you two were so sweet together. She used to bake you cookies and stuff. How's she?"

"I'm not too sure. I haven't seen her since our graduation ceremony, but I heard she moves to another prefecture in her third year and now works as a photographer."

"That's true. I follow her Instagram, but the comment section is turned off. She also uses her Twitter to post her photographs and nothing else. She's a very private person," the woman with excessive makeup chimes in, twirling the straw of cola that just arrived as her eyes roam back to me. "How come you didn't meet her in the past ten years? Did something happen?"

"Nothing happened."

"But are you still texting or calling her?"

"No. I haven't seen or heard anything from her."

"Huh? Why?" The dents on her forehead become deeper.

"I don't have her number."

"What? How come?"

"I just… don't?" I mutter, a little afraid that this woman will scratch my face if I say something she doesn't agree with.

"What about reaching her through Instagram? Twitter? Akaashi, there are many ways to find someone. Don't tell me you don't have an ac—" she stops when I don't flinch and lets out a heavy sigh as if I've committed a great sin. "Still, Akaashi. People don't forget about their best friend that easily. If you ever wonder about her, you'll at least make an effort to keep in touch with her. Something must've happened then."

"I'm sorry…"

A sound coming from the table beside me causes everyone to stop whatever they're doing for a moment. Nakamura, a petite woman whom I've known since middle school raises her hand, hinting that she has a piece of information to share. I haven't taken a good look at everyone's face, but I dare to compare her beauty to a fairy. Her choice of wearing a pink blouse and tight grey skirt makes her overall style is very minimalistic, and that's what I prefer to see.

"I can't help but overhear your conversation… Haven't you heard anything about Fujiwara?" Her voice comes out velvety but with a haunting undertone.

"No. Is there something we must know?" the woman who keeps bothering me asks.

"Ah… I'm a layout designer for a tourism website that features a lot of her work… Around three months ago, she got into an accident and have been in a coma since…"

I try to maintain my cool when my heart pounds faster for all the wrong reasons. Although she's longer a part of my life, it should be normal for anyone to feel this numb after hearing such unfortunate news about their friend. I gaze around to make sure I'm not the odd man out, but what I get is everyone's eyes on me, some looking concern while the rest are judgmental. If their mind could speak, I'd most likely hear "you're the worst person ever!" and "how could you know this just now?".

"She lives in a city called Tsu, but she's been treated at Mie University Hospital. If somebody wants to visit, I can give her mother's phone number. I know the area so I can help more if you need me to," Nakamura continues.

"I'll visit her. Please give me the number," I volunteer without thinking twice. Maybe it's out of guilt, but just like what the glasses guy said; this person and I used to be inseparable, and I was content every time she was around. It's never too late to show my gratitude, even if she's become a comatose patient who won't be aware of me.

After saying goodbye to everyone at the reunion and making a promise to meet up again soon, I don't immediately leave like most of them. I go a few meters away from the crowded restaurant and stop to take my phone out of my jacket once I reach a quieter spot. There isn't the slightest hesitation when I dial Kaori's mother phone number like I'm so sure about what to say—I'm actually not—and I'm thrilled when she picks it up within seconds.

"Hello," a raspy voice greets me from the other side.

"Hello, good evening. Am I speaking to Fujiwara-san?" I try to sound as courteous as possible.

"Yes, it's me. Who am I speaking with?"

"I'm Akaashi Keiji, your daughter's high school friend."

She stops for two seconds before continuing, "Akaashi Keiji? Her upperclassman? The one from the volleyball club?"

"Yes. Correct," I confirm. Since we were good friends, Kaori must've shared one or two things about me to her family.

"How are you, Akaashi? Who gave you my phone number?"

"I'm good, thank you for asking. I just had a high school reunion with my year group, and one of the girls is working for a website that features your daughter's photographs. She told me what happened and gave your phone number in case I want to visit. I'm sorry to hear about the accident."

"Oh, yes. Thank you very much. Does this mean you want to meet her?"

"I do. May I?"

"Of course!" Her answer comes faster than the night wind grazing my hair. "When are you planning to come? This city is a little secluded so I can arrange everything for you."

"You don't have to. I'll take care of it myself, thank you. How about next Saturday?"

"It's perfect! It's rare for her high school friends to come over, so she'll be pleased!"

I smile at her adorable reaction. "I'm glad to hear that. I'll call you again soon. Good night, Fujiwara-san."

"Thank you. Good night to you too."

"Thank you," I say before ending the call and catching the bus that comes thirty seconds later with a lot of friends who live nearby. Their continuous reminiscences about our teachers are fun throughout the ride, but they can't distract me from pondering the next trip I'm about to embark on.

Once I get back to the flat I rent near my employer, I rush to open my laptop and do a quick research about Tsu, a place that I never heard before today. It's a small city with a population of three hundred thousand people, compared to Tokyo's nine million. It reminds me of a less developed version of Sendai where hills and mountains are within everyone's view, but I'm not supposed to say much as I only went there several times to meet some old friends.

There are four ways to Tsu from Tokyo; by car, bus, train, or plane, and it'll take me five, eight, three, and one hour respectively. I omit the first option because I don't own a car. The second is the stupidest, so I don't bother to check on the route and price. The most efficient way is by plane that costs around twenty-six thousand yen, and it confuses me that it's the same as train considering the two-hour gap and dissimilarities in terms of service.

Since Tsu doesn't have an airport, I book the nine a.m. flight next Saturday to Nagoya, then I'll pay for a ferry there to arrive at the city faster. I spend another eight thousand for a room at Dormy Inn Tsu, which according to many reviews is the best hotel near Mie University Hospital. The most exciting part about being a working adult is having my own saving and spending my own money without my parents' involvement. I'm also lucky because they never beg me to come home, although I still do at least once a month.

But right after finishing my transaction, I mull over my precipitous decision. I've only flown twice in my life and both times were to attend my coworker's wedding in Hokkaido. I've never been on a ferry before. My family isn't a big fan of traveling, but every time we have to go somewhere, we'll opt to use train like what most Japanese people do. As someone who's never gone too far from home—and all by myself at that—I don't know what's gotten into me. I'm not scared of getting lost. I'm just wondering if meeting a person who might not remember my face is worth the effort.

A week passes and here I am, leaving Nagisamachi Ferry Terminal with a navy backpack that carries less than it appears and a phone in my right hand. Following the GPS, I walk for ten minutes to Otobeashi Bus Stop that's located in the middle of a residential area with date palm trees dividing the empty roads—I was expecting to see a lot of cherry blossoms, but I'm clearly not in the right area. It doesn't take long for a bus to come and drive me for another ten minutes to Sakaemachi Sanchome Bus Stop. All that's left is to head north by foot for around two minutes, and I reach the Dormy Inn.

From the outside, this grey building looks like an old apartment or low-star hotel in Tokyo. The receptionists greet me and explain things I already read from the reservation website I used; the 24/7 access to two hot springs and one sauna, breakfast from six thirty to eight thirty at the restaurant on the first floor, paid massage services, coin-operated washing machines, and even prohibition to bring pets and smoke inside.

After nodding my head to their lengthy briefing, they hand me the key—not card—to room number 421. When I get into the elevator and then the fourth floor, I notice how packed this place really is during a non-holiday season. An unknown city doesn't equal to a small-scale industry, so a lot of professionals or developers must have their businesses here. Or, they can be a mere visitor from a bigger city like I am.

Much to my surprise, the room I get is identical to my apartment's. There's a bed that fits one adult my size, a wooden desk with an LED TV smaller than thirty inches, a window with a brown curtain, and an air conditioner above it. The major difference is the en-suite bathroom, a built-in closet next to it, a small table for a coffee maker, and a mini-fridge placed at the end of the room, just right between the desk and bed. I have little to say because with eight thousand yen, I'll be getting the same quality anywhere else in Japan.

I arrange the things I bring inside the closet and on the bathroom's sink, then I spend enough time to clean myself up. Once I lay on the bed, I realize how tired I've gotten, and I should blame it on my lack of exercise. I was an active member of my university's volleyball club until my last semester, but I kind of left it after graduation because working for eight hours, sometimes ten, drains me out. It's so hilarious to think I can't remember the last time I held the ball that used to be the center of my life for more than ten years, but I'm not the only one who's changed.

Rather than contemplating about the past that can't be repeated, I rise up and grab the phone I put next to my pillow. I should inform Kaori's mother about my arrival, so I call her number after a while—I did tell her after buying my ticket and everything, but it was a week ago. Unlike previously, she doesn't right away answer. I try once again because it's my style to give people a second chance, and thank my patience, she finally picks up.

"Good morning, Akaashi," she calls my name ever-so-cheerfully like we've known each other for longer. It's still fifteen minutes before ten. During my day off, I usually wake up around this time.

"Good morning. I just arrived at my hotel. Is it okay if I go to the hospital now?"

"Oh, that was fast! You may go now, but I still have some work to do. How about at four so I can be there with you as well? Don't you want to rest for a bit?"

"Well…" I rotate my left shoulder and feel a mild strain back there. "Okay. Four o'clock."

"Okay, Akaashi. Rest well. Please call me when you're about to leave."

"Will do. Have a nice day."

"Likewise."

Not like it matters, but she's so busy that she has to be the one dropping the call in a hurry. I switch my shirt and trousers into something shorter and looser before jumping onto the bed once again. As a renowned heavy sleeper, I don't forget to set an alarm at three on my phone—sleeping for five hours should be plenty. The blanket I get is perfect against the chillness of the room, and it helps me give in to my exhaustion.

I wake up a few minutes before my alarm goes off. I suppose since I had enough sleep before my flight, I don't need a super long afternoon nap that can ruin my nighttime. After washing my face, I make a cup of coffee with a packet of cream and sugar provided by the hotel. It tastes kind of bland and makes me miss the ones I often get from the cafés near my apartment, but what do I expect from free amenities? I should try the hot spring if I want something rewarding for staying here, although I must share the pool with other people.

After finishing my last sip of unsatisfying coffee, I call Kaori's mother and notify her that I'm ready to leave. She's about to arrive herself, and she'll text me the things I should ask the receptionists once I get there. With a wallet in my jeans' pocket, a bag of Funawa's famous sweet potatoes as a souvenir from Tokyo, and phone to lead my way, I lock my room and head for another bus stop. The sound of my heartbeat is louder than the three-minute ride I must take, but it's because I'm about to meet someone whom I haven't seen for a long time under exceptional circumstances.

There are some stores around the hospital, and I realize I haven't bought anything for Kaori. I stop by a floristry with the least customers and examine the variations of flowers put in woven baskets in front of the window glass. I can't tell each of their names besides the generic like roses and sunflowers. It's also been a while since I bought flowers for someone sick, and I remember that they're generally not permitted. Once again, I call Kaori's mother for some enlightenment.

"Hello, Akaashi. Is everything good?" she inquires.

"I'm sorry to bother you again, but can I bring real flowers?"

"Carnations are okay."

"All right."

"But what about dolls? Maybe a teddy bear? It's easier to maintain."

"Does a twenty-seven-year-old woman want a teddy bear?"

"Hahaha. You're right. Thank you for your consideration, Akaashi."

"You're welcome. I'll be arriving in five minutes."

I put down my phone and step into the store where a woman older than my mother welcomes me with a smile brighter than the lamps above our head. There's a younger lady behind the counter, but she's too busy scribbling on a book to notice my presence. There's also a guy who's arranging the mess happening everywhere. I must admit that this place needs a thorough cleanup, and I'm glad I'm not allergic to pollen or dust.

"Hello. I'm about to visit a patient. Can I have a bucket of mixed carnations?" I ask the woman.

"Ah, we advise giving hospitalized patients flowers in a jar. It's easy to carry and already has water in it, so the family doesn't need to worry about where to put them."

"That sounds good. Do you have clear or colored jars?"

"We have both options. Is it for a girl? What about white? It'll look the best with the mixed carnations."

"I'll go with that."

"Okay, please wait for a moment."

"Thank you," I say as I watch her walk around the place, picking objects from here and there with the help of the guy from before.

It isn't a minute later when she comes back with another question, "Do you want a written card? And do you want to write it yourself?"

"Please write 'get well soon'," I decide fast because I know that beautiful handwriting isn't a virtue of mine.

"That's it?"

"Yes—" I hold my voice for a moment before adding, "Also, 'I'm sorry for not looking after you'."

Her saddened expression reveals how touched she is by my words, and she nods to show an approval that I don't actually need. "That's very sweet of you. I'll make sure to write them well."

"Okay…" I have nothing else to say because it'd be obnoxious of me to tell her that the card wouldn't have a great impact since the one getting it isn't able to read it right away.

One of the top things I'm curious about is the kind of place Kaori is admitted to. Since my proficiency in the medical field is purely taken from TV shows and fiction books, my first guess is an ICU room—which then turns into a question about how much money her family or insurance company has spent. However, based on the direction given by her mother and the receptionists at the entrance hall, I must go to the long-term care facility in the left wing of the hospital.

Just like its name, the area is filled with people who need intensive treatments such as elders and chronically ill kids. I feel anxious when I see a thin and bald guy who's about the same age as me, but then there's a glint of warmth when he flirts with a pretty nurse and laughs with her. It's quieter on the third floor, but since it's where Kaori is staying, the absence of loud noises should mean that the entire hall is reserved for those who are in a deep state of unconsciousness.

When I arrive in front of room number 309, I stop and heave a sigh. All of a sudden, I doubt myself. Kaori's mother has been nice, but what's the first thing I must say besides "hi" or "I'm sorry"? How long am I allowed to stay with them? What should I talk about other than my remorse for Kaori's condition? I can't even provide a reasonable explanation behind us breaking off for years because I really don't hold the right answer.

Akaashi Keiji, enough with your pointless thoughts.

I squeeze the jar of carnations in my left hand and knock on the door with my right one. It's like a scene in a suspense movie when I wait for the white door to be opened by a short-haired woman whose skin is as bright as the altered models from a beauty product advertisement. She should be the one I've been calling with because her young face awakes the memories I had with Kaori as if they're siblings instead of mother and daughter.

"Akaashi? Oh my, you're extremely tall and handsome! It's nice seeing you!" she exclaims before letting me in by opening the door wider.

"Thank you. I'm sorry for—" I can't finish my sentence when I notice somebody else's presence in the room. She stands beside the woman sleeping in the bed, and they both look exactly the same.

My mind goes blank as I drop my gaze to the ceramic tiles below, thinking of what currently is happening here. Does Kaori have a twin sister? No, she only ever told me about her beloved older brother. So, who is that other woman? I freeze on my place until the doppelganger walks toward me, and I realize that her feet aren't touching the ground. She's floating. In this eerie hospital room, Kaori is unconscious, yet there's another being who copies her appearance, and that being is floating.

I'm proud to say I'm an ordinary man with a common view of human existence in this world. Just like many of my families and friends; I believe in God, afterlife, near-death experiences, and many things that science can never explain. But not once in my life had I ever thought that a human's soul could be extracted from their body during a coma and interact normally to their surroundings, and I, of all people, can see it.

"Akaashi? Is there something wrong?"

"Excuse me for a moment," I whisper because I'm unable to speak any louder. Still carrying all the things I bought for them, I leave the room through the door that hasn't been shut. My legs weaken and quiver, but I manage not to stumble and fall on my knees.

I must calm down. She isn't just another "being". She isn't a ghost either because Kaori is still alive. With the similar attributes they carry, she's Kaori's soul and nothing else. I shouldn't even classify them as two separate identities because they're one. This is nothing. It's still the same woman I know. Come on, Keiji. Be brave. You're twenty-eight. You should be more terrified of getting fired than something illogical like this.

"Keiji-senpai?"

I almost lose my cool and shriek when Kaori follows me by passing through the wall of the room like it's the most natural thing to do in the world. I lean against the very same wall and attempt to gain some rationality over this chaos, but she agitates me even more by positioning herself right in front of me. She has no clue I can see her, and it's probably because I'm trying my best not to look directly into her eyes. I can't afford to get a bad omen by doing so.

"Wow, it's really him. I can't believe it," she continues. "I thought my mother was lying when she said Keiji-senpai is coming. What is he doing out there? Is he nervous about meeting me after so long? Are those carnations for me? He's always so thoughtful."

I gulp down, hoping that this is just a dream, but only a handful of people calls me "Keiji-senpai" and Kaori is one of them. When I close my eyes, all I can hear is the sound of the person who used to give me good luck amulets before my volleyball matches and the one who often begged me to fix her complicated math equations. It's really her. I have no other choice but to accept this mysterious occurrence.

I hope you loved that!