And so0mehow, finally, here is the final part! I should point out that in the bits that correspond to the anime, I wrote them according to memory without referring to the wikia or whatever, with a view to Ayumi's sense of things being muddled due to her 'descent' . So if I have got some of the chronology wrong, it is because of that. But since I have nothing else to say apart from this, I do hope you'll enjoy the final part of this prologue, and please leave me feedback!
When she wakes up, Ayumi finds that she is still in Lisa's room, sharing her bed and hugging her close. Or rather, almost hanging off the bed, because at some point in the night, sleep had given her daughter's relaxed confidence in the world back to her, and now her limbs are flung peacefully across the bed as she breathes the blissful breaths of sleep, blankets twisted around her. At some point, Momo had also come up to the room, and was now curled up at the end of the bed. Ayumi thinks of scolding the dog and sending him back to the basket, as she usually does when he tries to sleep on their beds, but when he looks balefully at her she changes her mind. It'll make Lisa happy to see her beloved Momo waiting for her when she wakes up.
Carefully easing herself away, Ayumi glances at the frog-face clock on the wall opposite. Nearly 6AM, it reads, and she breathes a sigh of relief. She has her part time work today, and she'll need to take Lisa to day care before that. It would not do to be late. No, it won't. I need to make sure things are fine, and normal, for Lisa. She knew that Lisa would not forget what it was like to be tiny and terrified, alone in her bed as she listened to her parents scream at each other. But she does not want it to become her defining memory, like it had for her.
So Ayumi carefully untangles the blankets and re-tucks them around her so she was comfortable for her final hour of sleep, then goes to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face, before going into the bedroom to change. She pads around quietly as she does so, as Seiji is still asleep. But unlike Lisa, his face is creased, troubled, and his body is tense. Oh, Seiji. Despite the hate they'd thrown at each other the night before, she still finds that her heart constricts for him. We'll make things right, don't worry. Once her hair is neatly combed, she goes down and starts to make breakfast, as normal, and soon finds herself absorbed in the task.
Seiji comes down first, just as she is setting his breakfast on the table. He barely acknowledges he as he sits down and begins the food. To her relief, he does not seem to find anything wrong with the food, and just ploughs through it silently. Colour returns to his drawn face, and when he finishes, Ayumi hands him a cup of the coffee that he always drinks.
"You look better, Seiji." She tells him, genuinely. He looks surprised at the sound of her voice, but nods as he takes the coffee and sips at it. When he is finished, he mutters an almost indecipherable expression of thanks, and then it seems he disappears into thin air as he leaves for work. Ayumi stares at the space he leaves behind him, then pulls herself together as Lisa comes down the stairs in her pyjamas, rubbing her eyes sleepily, Momo lolloping behind her.
"Mummy? Good morning."
"Good morning, Lisa. Breakfast is ready, so eat it all up, okay?"
"Mhmm. "she blinks and looks around. "Momo, you eat your food up too!"
The dog obliges, happily bounding over to the dog food bowl and lapping it up, and it is only then that Lisa goes and begins her own breakfast. Ayumi sits and joins her, and watches carefully for any sign that she is upset. Lisa is quiet as she eats, working through the food in the same solid way her father had done so, but supplementing it with smiles and gasps of amazement. But when she next looks up to her, she is solemn.
"Mummy, is Daddy at work?"
"Yes, he is." Ayumi tells her. Lisa nods seriously at this, and then asks another question.
"Will he come back again?"
"I…well….." How do I answer this honestly, when I don't know myself? "Well, Daddy has been very stressed and busy at work, so he needs a rest….so I hope so."
"Hmmmm…?" Lisa frowns, and Ayumi hurries to reassure her.
"But don't worry, okay? Mummy and Daddy will always love you and look after you, okay, Lisa?"
Lisa frowns a little longer, but then smiles and nods at her.
"Okay, Mummy. Now I finish eating." And she did just that, carrying her plates over to the sink afterwards before padding off to change. Ayumi finishes the washing up, then goes up to help her with the various buttons and other things. Once they are ready, they make sure Momo is safe in the house before leaving, and then walk to Lisa's day-care, hand in hand. Lisa seems a little reluctant to leave her when they get there, but is soon coaxed by the arrival of one of her little friends, and Ayumi finds she can rest easy as she goes to work.
The day is uneventful, work being peaceful but not so quiet that it is tedious, and she is able to use a break halfway through the day to go and walk Momo. Then, when she finished work, she goes to pick Lisa up, and the two of them go back home to put their things away and then give Momo another walk, a longer one that includes a stint in the park to play with other dogs. Lisa is chirpy throughout it all, and any doubts are gone. Even as they go home and Ayumi prepares dinner, she doesn't ask questions, though she does call out for Seiji and go around searching for him. Naturally, he isn't there, and both of them are disappointed, but Ayumi does her best to not show it as she distracts Lisa.
Just as she has placed dinner on the table and prepares to call out for Lisa, the front door opens and Seiji wearily announces that he is back. Ayumi goes to greet him, and he nods, still barely acknowledging her, but at least not snapping at her. Momo woofs happily and bounds up, stopping short to sit and wag his tail as he looks up at them. But it is Lisa who is the happiest, as she shoots down the stairs and wraps herself around Seiji's leg.
"DADDY! You came back! I'm so happy!" she squeals, her little face aglow as she giggles. Seiji just stares, looking faintly perturbed. Ayumi hovers, ready to extract Lisa if need be, but eventually, Seiji pats her head, awkwardly. This seems to satisfy her, as she lets go and goes to cling to Ayumi instead, still smiling at him.
"Dinner is ready, so you can eat once you're changed, okay?" Ayumi asks, watching his face carefully. Seiji stares at her, and then nods slowly.
"Okay then. I am quite hungry."
"Good, good. I made a lot, so you'd better be hungry!"
When he flashes a smile as he plods upstairs, Ayumi is filled with love, and any anger she has drifts away. It'll be fine, she thinks. Yesterday was just a bad day, and tomorrow will be better. The same things that happened to me will not happen to Lisa.
…
Of course, she is soon proved horribly wrong. Seiji spends more time away from the home, and less time with them. Many, many nights go by when Ayumi manages to both go to bed and then wake up again completely alone. There are stretches of days when she doesn't see him at all. He still interacts with Lisa, to Ayumi's partial relief, but almost distantly, dazed. It falls to Ayumi to reassure Lisa that she has not done anything wrong, that he is just tired from working hard for them both and when he can, he will rest and play with her properly. On some days, it feels as if Seiji has forgotten that he has a daughter, and it is all that Ayumi can do to prevent herself from reaching out and shaking him, to point at Lisa and remind him of what he has. But her own past leers at her, and she doesn't. Instead, she waits, makes food for him, cleans up after him, greets him cheerfully and offers reassuring words. Remembering the pillar of support that he was when she had been grieving over her lost son, she tries to be the same. If she is constantly there, then he will return. She clings onto this almost desperately, and it becomes the main thing driving her forward each day- apart from Lisa, of course.
Time goes by, Ayumi measuring it by her daughter's milestones. The time comes to think about enrolling Lisa into school, and it is in carrying out these preparations that brings Seiji back for a little while, to the point that Ayumi sends the two of them out alone to buy the stationery she will need for her first day at school one weekend. They come back glowing and happy and having clearly gone to the ice cream parlour, and even as she pretends to tell them off for the pre-dinner ice-cream, she glows. When Lisa actually starts school, Seiji is actually home a couple of evenings a week, and helps Lisa with her homework, a practise that continues as she moves up the grades. Ayumi notices how he takes great pride in explaining these things to her, and her unworldliness sticks out like a plaster in these times. It does not help that she also notices that to make up for this, he spends days at a time away, and though she tries her best to coax the details of why his work entails this, he refuses to tell her, fobbing her off. More than once, he brings up her upbringing to cite why explanations are utterly pointless. And more than once, she wonders where the Seiji she had fallen so hard for had gone-the one who had accepted her so completely, the one who had promised a rainbow for their child, who had been her rock even when she had not been able to notice it-, she wonders where he had gone to, for each time the tenseness around them comes up, she knows that it isn't him.
She tries everything. She makes sure Lisa is a good girl, doing her homework on time and not pestering him when he is clearly exhausted. When she is fully sure she trusts the families of Lisa's school friends Satsuki and Yuka, she lets her go to one or the other for sleepovers every so often, so that she and Seiji can have nights to themselves. She works hard herself, at the part time job she has, and struggles to make the accounts clear, so that Seiji knows that looking after the family is not his burden alone. But he barely notices her attempts at rekindling intimacy, and he seems to brush away the importance of her efforts. But still, she tries and tries.
Until one day, he comes home late at night looking exhausted as usual, but with what Ayumi thinks is a glow about him.
It is nearly midnight that time. Lisa, now a sunny fourth grader, was spending the night at Yuka's house for a birthday sleepover, so she had made Seiji's favourite hotpot and some other things that only he enjoyed eating. She'd also made the tea he'd always used to drink when he'd visited that café she'd worked at, so long ago. She'd set it up all nicely, and was waiting for him to come home and eat it, and she would have sat there at the other end of the table, eating quietly, there for him to talk to if needed, but also able to be a silent presence if that was what was required. But the minutes had ticked by and turned into hours which had then turned into eternities, and Ayumi's eyes had threatened to shut on her, drooping with exhaustion. It had been such a long day, and she'd thought it would have been worth it, that she'd perhaps get a glimpse of the old Seiji, the real Seiji, once again.
And she had, in a way, but through her bleariness, she noted that the glow about him had been there before he had laid eyes on her, and so that she had not caused it, which meant that she had had no claim on him whatsoever, which meant that any love that had once been there had left for once and for all. That he was leaving them. And that realisation was one she could not bear, but more than that, she could not stand that Seiji would not just come out and say it, if he wanted to leave her. She would have much rather that than a gradual teasing away, a slow, slow disentanglement. Even with Nodaka, she had thought the same thing. And so she loses it, and yells at him, getting right up in his face and then dragging him to the kitchen and showing him what she has been doing for him, trying to make it clear how much she's been missing him, over these years. Perhaps being upfront, like she would want from him if he wanted to go, would change things. Except that all that happened was that he yelled back at her, and then stormed from the room, leaving the dinner behind. Momo barked after him mournfully, but was ignored.
Shaking, and sobbing silently, Ayumi readjusts her clothes and hair needlessly, and she sits down to eat her own plate of food. Then, she reheats Seiji's, covers it, and after dealing with Momo for the night, goes to sleep in Lisa's room. She decides that she can change the sheets and make it neat the next day, before Lisa comes home again, so it will be fine, just this once. And she thinks that perhaps that by giving Seiji space to cool down, he will be able to think about what she said, and then maybe he will return to her. It is a thought no different to the other pointless ones she has been having about him over the years as she has strived for familial harmony, but she doesn't see it. Instead, she allows it to comfort her as she drifts to sleep.
And then the next morning, she comes down to see the plates all washed and put away, and an envelope on Seiji's placemat. It is thick and padded, so the note inside is a lengthy one, but all she can focus on is the note scrawled in Seiji's handwriting on the front:
I can't carry on like this, Ayumi, so I am leaving you now. Sorry.
…
"Well, here we are." Ayumi tries to sound bright as they enter their new flat. Lisa looks around it, but says nothing, and Ayumi knows that she is disappointed. She cannot blame her, for this place is a different beast to the house she'd grown up in. Despite it being a much better area than the one she spent her late teens and early twenties in, it is still a small, depressing place.
But, we'll have to make the best of it, and we'll be fine, the two of us. She had to think that, for Lisa's sake. Nothing could be done about Seiji, for the letter he'd left also contained a divorce notice. Everything had been dealt with within the year, and then they were apart, forever. She didn't want him to have gone, but he had. At least he hadn't taken Lisa with him too, and at least he'd allowed them both to continue using his surname. Or that was what she told herself. In truth, whenever she thinks of it, she sees a cold, exhausted and angry shell of a person. Almost as if she was the same lonely, struggling child she had once been. Seiji was meant to be my salvation.
"Mum?"
Ayumi blinks, jerked out of her thoughts, and looks down at her 10-year-old. She is pretty, dark featured with thick feathery hair courtesy of Seiji's genes. But her own sad eyes reflect her own, so that reminds Ayumi that she has another form of salvation. From here on out, she will give her all to Lisa, and Lisa only.
"Ah, sorry," she apologises. "I was just thinking about things. Let's go inside and clean up and put all our things away. I'm sure it will be better once we have done that."
"Mhm, okay. Should I make dinner today, Mum? You look tired. Are you missing Dad?"
"No, no, it's fine, Lisa, you won't need to worry about that. I'll look after you."
"Okay." Lisa is quiet after this, and Ayumi realises she didn't answer her actual question. But she convinces herself it doesn't matter.
…
The next few days blur into weeks, and these into months, and soon it all becomes one large blur of supporting her only daughter, her shining light. Ayumi enrols Lisa into fifth grade at the local elementary school, and searches for a part time job that will allow her to be home in time for the end of the day. She makes an effort to get to know the parents of the two girls Lisa manages to befriend, so that if something happens and she cannot be home for Lisa, then at least she can know that she is safe. Eventually, the time comes for Lisa to start thinking about middle schools, and though Ayumi is terrified at the prospect of her little girl growing up, and despite the fact that her own inadequacies show, she puts her all into that, too. And the day the letter comes home telling them that Lisa got into the school she wanted to get into, they are both overjoyed.
"I knew you could do it!" Ayumi tells her over the takeout dinner they got to celebrate the fact. "You're so bright!"
"Not really, Mum. I just studied really hard. I don't think I would have got in if I hadn't."
You are wonderful, Lisa. Ayumi beamed.
"Well, either way, you did really well. You should be proud of yourself, okay?"
"Mhm, yeah! Thanks, Mum!" Lisa takes another mouthful of food and munches, and then after a moment speaks again.
"Hey, can I phone Mikako-Chan and Yuuri-Chan after dinner? I want to find out if they got into the schools they wanted. Mikako-Chan was really nervous about this too."
"Of course you can, I don't mind! Did they both apply to the same school as you?"
"Yuuri-Chan did, but Mikako-Chan was trying to get into Sunrise, the girls school, because that's got the high school too."
"I see, I see. Well, I hope they did well too." Ayumi nods. "In any case, eat up now. I think there's some ice-cream still left in the fridge, so we can have that afterwards."
"Oh, cool!"
…
"R-redundant?"
Ayumi stares at her boss in disbelief. The words don't quite kick in, but then she looks around at her coworkers, at their paleness and tears and covered mouths, and something cracks inside of her.
"But, that can't be right!" she said, her voice picking up speed and pace as she stares him down. "You're just going to let us go, with no proper notice at all, no anything! I have a daughter to support!"
"Mishima-san-"
"I'm bringing her up alone, what am I meant to do without a job? What are all of us meant to do, I, I mean….."
Ayumi suddenly feels her head spin, and she stops. She thinks she should rear back, give herself time to compose herself. She is sure someone else will argue for her, after all, they've all got things at stake, but they do not, and everything becomes and overwhelming whirl of colours and sounds. Someone says her name again as she tries to stagger back, but she does not hear them as she feels her legs give out from under her and everything go black.
…
When she wakes up, she is in a hospital bed and Lisa is looking at her. But for a moment, she doesn't realise that.
"Seiji?"
"No, Mum, it's me. What happened?" Ayumi's vision clears and she sees her daughter, looking down at her with worry. She sits up in a panic and suddenly a roaring pain rushes in her head.
"Don't move too fast, Mum!" Lisa panics. "The doctors said you hurt your head, so you have to take it easy!"
"Work…."
"They said you won't be able to work for a while, either. But you work so hard, after all. I think you need a break."
When Ayumi doesn't answer, Lisa frowns, her pretty eyes becoming troubled .
"Is…is it going to be hard, if you don't work?" she almost whispers. "Will we get kicked out of the home?"
"N-no….It..it will be fine…."
"I could get a job or something, Mum. A part time job, until you get better…."
"No!" the mere thought fills her with panic. I can't do that. That would mean I fail as a mother. I must look after her, not the other way around.
"No," she repeats more calmly. "No need for that. You should enjoy your childhood, Lisa. It is precious. And I will take care of the two of us. I'll find a way to get us through this."
"Mmm, okay." Lisa nods, looking a little doubtful. Ayumi's heart breaks, and she reaches out for Lisa's hand and clenches it tightly. My little girl is growing up. Lisa stares down at her hand in surprise, and then squeezes back. They chat for a little while longer before Ayumi starts to feel sleepy again, and it is at that point Lisa goes. Ayumi thinks of asking her where she will stay the night, but is not able to fight her sleepiness long enough to do so.
Luckily, it becomes a single-night worry, as she is released from hospital the next day-Saturday- with orders to rest up, and she is able to go straight home. She tries to go and make them some lunch the moment they get home, but Lisa, unusually, vetoes this.
"I can make lunch." She says, quietly but surprisingly firmly. "You should rest, Mum."
"No, no-"Ayumi begins, but Lisa shakes her head so wildly, that she is stopped again. And once again, she thinks, my little girl is growing up. I'm so proud. So, she yields, and goes to sit on the sofa as Lisa pulls together some soup and pulls out bread from the cupboard.
They eat on the sofa, using the coffee table, rather than the dining table. The soup tastes utterly awful, but Ayumi laps it all up. After all, it was a soup made by her precious little girl, her light and salvation. To condemn her soup would be such a crime and she didn't think she would be able to do that. So she lapped it all down, and savoured the look of happiness on her daughter's face.
We will get through this, we have to.
…
Her joblessness stretches out, from something small and fleeting to something that smells distinctly of a permanent situation. With some major budgeting, she manages to make sure they are nowhere near destitution, but the changes still assert themselves too strongly. She tries to keep her mind active, by spending time in the library and going to the park to watch the dog walkers on the way to and from doing their weekly groceries. But if she had thought the years and days between the divorce and the unemployment were a blur, she finds this even worse. Because no matter what she does, it is not enough for her to be sure she is not doing enough for Lisa. She makes her breakfast and dinner at home, and makes sure she takes a beautiful, tasty lunch. She makes sure the house is clean and that Lisa has enough clothes, and she talks to Lisa, as much as she can, making sure she knows that she is loved and valued even though their lives are stifling. But she cannot help but think that it is not enough, that there are whole swathes of hours where she has no real way of knowing what is happening in Lisa's life. Sure, she talks, but her little girl is now not so little, and her maturity has made her quieter, more dignified. And she knows Lisa worries sometimes, and she wants to make that not so. Yet, how could she do such a thing if she has no idea what is going on, no way to reach her.
These thoughts are all consuming ones, and the more she thinks, the worse they become. Then, one day, as she is cleaning the living room, she picks up her mobile phone to clean the portion of table underneath it, and that is when it hits her. They are living in an age of technology, one where it is easy to reach anyone from anywhere. And of course, Lisa has one too. She has her on speed dial if need be. So, she looks at the time, making sure it isn't a time where Lisa would be in lessons (not wanting her to get into trouble), and once she is sure that the time is right, she takes a pause from her cleaning to sit down on the sofa, and compose a text message.
"How are you? Did you enjoy your lunch?"
…
"Lisa, you didn't answer many texts today, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Mum."
"Are you sure, you're so quiet these days? Is something troubling you? You know I'll help, whatever it is."
"Yes, I know. School is just busy."
"Oh, oh, it must be, mustn't it? Such hard work! What was it like today, Lisa? Was it good? Were you extra busy? And are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine, Mum. "
"Okay, I'll let you do your homework now. Dinner will be ready soon, okay? What do you say to hotpot, Lisa? Does that sound good? Or should I do curry instead?"
"Anything is fine….."
…
Summer, 2014, and Ayumi wonders if she is losing her mind. Lisa is slipping away from her, slowly, slowly. She spends more time outside the house than inside it and does not say a word to her at all when she gets back. And if she does end up doing so, it is as little as possible, as though she is afraid. She does not reply to the text messages that she sends her to check that all is okay. She does not respond to Ayumi's worries, cannot even reassure her that everything is okay. She has no idea, no idea at all about how her school work she is doing or what club activities she does. She hasn't heard anything about Mikako and Yuuri, it's as if Lisa has completely stopped talking to them, but at the same time she cannot believe that what happened to her will have happened to Lisa, for she has not always been welcoming, unlike her own mother (now long deceased from alcohol poisoning). She knows nothing, and can find out nothing, and all she can see is history repeating itself. First her husband, then her daughter.
That, and she was witnessing the end of the world.
Or something that felt like it, in any case. Just the day before, Tokyo Tower had exploded, falling down and looking so much like those images of the towers that had fallen down in America 13 years ago, when Lisa was just a little girl. And then, soon after, that warehouse near the police had done so too. And it had been credited to terrorists, two masked boys (for they cannot be more than that, surely?) calling themselves Sphinx. With not much else to do, and the pleasure of going to the park leeched by her worry for Lisa and concern that if she wasn't reachable then something bad would happen, she had been stuck to the news like glue. She had no idea why, really, but something kept her there, and even when she was preparing food or cleaning the house or making sure Lisa's clothes were cleaned and ironed she had the television on. And that was how she had heard that Lisa's high school had been in Tokyo Tower that day, when it had come crashing down.
Nobody was harmed, they said. Nobody in the tower had been injured seriously, they had all been evacuated. But that mattered little to Ayumi, all she had heard was that her daughter, her precious, drifting away daughter had been in there and she had not even said a word. No, instead, she had wrenched away from her queries and concerns and run away to her room. She had not even come down for the dinner she'd prepared.
And so now, as Lisa wanders around the town, or whatever it is she does on Saturdays, she sits and waits for her, glued to the news. Lisa….are you safe? Please be safe. Please don't leave me.
These thoughts circle repetitively in her head, over and over, and soon those are the only things she is thinking. Lisa does not come back until it is late, the sun starting to set and the world becoming dark for another night, and in the end, that's enough for Ayumi to know that it really is true. History really is going to repeat itself.
"Where were you?!" she is there as soon as Lisa gets through the door. "You didn't answer my messages or anything? Where were you? Why didn't you answer?"
There are no answers, just Lisa, shrinking away from her as if she is something awful. Don't you understand? Can't you understand?
"You're going to leave me, aren't you? Just like you're father, you are going to leave me!"
Something cracks, and Ayumi wonders if it is her mind, when she registers that her hands are on Lisa's shoulders and that she is pushed up against the wall. What….did I do? Her hands tremble, and Lisa takes the opportunity to wriggle away and rushes off to her bedroom. Ayumi wants to go after her, but she feels herself rooted to the ground. What did I do?
"Lisa!"
…
Her sleep is troubled, disturbed, she cannot stop her tossing and turning. Images run through her mind, the past and the present, and her future, her lonely future. It's hard for her to know for sure if she is awake, or asleep, but all the same something in her registers the door opening, far, far away. There is an odd clarity to it, and she notices it instantly.
"Lisa?" she sleepily calls out. No answer comes, no further noises, and as she cannot tell if she actually said anything, she lets it go, and sinks into the messy darkness of her mind once again.
…
When she wakes up in the morning, the house is too quiet. Not in the usual way, but almost dead. Ayumi is bleary at first as she pads to the bathroom, but then as she washes her hand, snatches of the evening before come to her.
"You're going to leave me, aren't you? Just like you're father, you are going to leave me!"
She thinks of burning buildings, of avoidances and lost words, and with a wail she fights to supress, she runs to her daughter's bedroom and flings the door open. I need to apologise, I need to make things right, tell her that I still love her and we'll always be here for each other and…..
All she sees is an empty bedroom, and a holdall bag missing. Where Lisa once was, she was no longer before. She thinks of the sound of the door last night, the one mixed with dreams and she realises the truth. As she staggers to the bed and drops to her knees and just gives up, she realises the truth.
It's too late.