Memories Of A Past Life (One Shot)
Warning: Contains Spoilers for Anime
Each day I woke I was grateful for another day. I knew the end was near. I was at peace with this fact. I had lived a long, happy life, but after years of battling cancer, I was ready to be free of pain once more. I had chosen to discontinue treatments, after all, there wasn't much more that could be done for me. My eldest daughter came to live with me in my final weeks. For this, I was eternally grateful. I couldn't think of anything sadder than dying alone in a hospital or nursing home.
Today marked my 30th day at home. The doctors didn't think I'd live past two weeks without treatment and, honestly, neither did I. My wife had died five years ago, and just a few months later I was diagnosed with cancer. My health has been declining ever since. Without my wife to live for, I lived for my children and grandchildren. I've held on this long to see them grow up. But there's only so much pain one can take. When I decided to discontinue treatment, I did so longing to join those I had already parted ways with in the afterlife. So quite honestly, I wasn't sure I'd make it more than a week without treatment. But just as I was prepared to let go, my granddaughter, Mikki, happened.
Mikki was 23. She had just graduated with a masters in journalism. When I looked at her I saw aspects of myself and my wife. She was a petite woman with long, dark hair. She wore it down with a bit of fringe covering a portion of her forehead. Her dark brown eyes drew you in as you spoke to her. Her soft face and genuine smile made whoever spoke to her feel at ease. We had always had a close bond and, secretly, she was my favorite of all my grandchildren.
Since I had chosen hospice, she began visiting me every single evening after work. The first day she came to visit, she told me that she wanted to interview me about my life. "My life isn't that interesting," I told her genuinely. Besides, she already knew almost everything there was to know.
"I find interest in the mundane, grandpa," she told me. "Besides, it isn't about being interesting. I want to record it all so we can all remember you perfectly for the rest of our lives. I'm not as interested in the big stuff. People will remember that on their own. We already know you worked all your life as an accomplished photographer, we know about how much you loved my grandma and your children. I want to know the things most people tend to forget. I want to know the little things. I want to know your favorite smell, your favorite books. I want you to tell me the funny, award stories of your youth. I want to know your most embarrassing moment. I want to know about a time when you were afraid. I want to know your happiest memory. I want to know the story behind the jade pendant you bought grandma when you were young. I want to know the reason she never took it off. I want to know what it is about daisies that you love so much. I want to know why you smile when you see a library or a stack of old books. I want to know why Hemmingway is your favorite author. I want to know the meaning behind the sad, far-off look in your eyes that you get when you see an airplane overhead. I want you to tell me about the best food you've ever eaten. I want to know it all, anything and everything. Anything you're willing to share with me."
I cried when she spoke those words to me. I apologized for my emotions, but she assured me it was all part of the process. She was fully prepared for the tears. This became my new reason to hold onto life. I agreed to tell her my life story, the good, the bad, and the boring.
And so, she came each night after dinner. She brought her laptop and a desktop microphone to record each and every word I said. Some days were lighthearted, like the day she said "Tell me something you did as a child that you thought was so rebellious, but looking back it was so silly and innocent." And so I told her about the time in middle school when I skipped school so that I could read under my favorite blooming sakura tree one last time that season before the rain came that evening and took all the petals away. Other times she gave me emotionally hard prompts, like "Tell me about your relationship to grandma. How you met, your first date, the first time you said 'I love you,' what your wedding was like, your honeymoon, what it was like to build a family with her, what it was like growing old, how you felt when she died." That was a painful day. I cried many times recounting our story.
Today, day 30, I wondered what she'd ask me today as she walked in my bedroom door. We had exhausted many topics, yet she always thought of something new to ask me.
"I have a fun one for us today, grandpa." She told me as she set up her microphone and laptop, and sat in the chair beside my bed. "Today, I want you to know if you ever loved another person besides grandma."
As she spoke the words I thought, for a second, that the end had come, that I was dying. But in the next second, I realized I was, in fact, not dying-it only felt that way. Memories of my youth flooded back to me. Memories of New York, of Ash. Memories I tried not to think about because they were painful. Memories that seemed to take place an entire lifetime ago.
She misinterpreted the look on my face, clapping excitedly saying "Oh my gosh! You were! Tell me everything!"
I smiled sadly, taking a deep breath before I began.
"Well…." I began, "I spent the first two years of my twenties utterly depressed." She began to open her mouth, likely to ask me to elaborate on this new fact. I held up a finger to shush her "It's all part of the story, I'll get there." I took another deep breath, gathering my thoughts once more. "Anyway, I was depressed. Wouldn't come out of my room for months. I just laid in bed absolutely broken. I worried my parents and my friends. Eventually, I went back to the rhythm of daily life, but the sadness never left me. My friends would take me places to try to cheer me up. They'd set me up with girls they knew, hoping to take my mind off my pain. So I went out with a few girls. I dated a few, but nothing ever stuck. I didn't find love again until I met your grandma."
"Again?" she asked, catching this important word.
"Again." I confirmed. "The story starts when I was 19. I was working as an assistant for a man named Shunichi Ibe at the time. He was a photographer and journalist here in Japan. Together we went to America to do a piece on the street gangs of New York City. I had been in a bit of a slump, so going to America brought some much needed excitement to my life." I added with a laugh, "probably a little too much."
"In New York, we met a man named Ash Lynx. He was a gang boss at the ripe age of 17. He was a tall, fair-skinned, blond. He had these jade-colored eyes that shone like diamonds when he looked at me. The moment I saw him, I felt an instant bond" I gave another small chuckle "I think the first thing I asked him was if I could hold his gun. I had never seen one in person before, so I was fascinated."
"Hmm, that sounds like something I'd do too." She said with a laugh. "Hold up! Are you about to tell me you fell in love with a man?" Mikki exclaimed suddenly with a huge smile on her face.
The shock was a fair response. I'd never spoken a word of this to anyone besides my wife. Ash was, after all, the only man I had ever loved.
"Shhhh," I told her "Let me tell the story."
"Sorry...Ssoo did he let you hold his gun?" Mikki asked with a goofy smile.
"Yeah, he did. It shocked all his gang members, actually. Apparently, it was rare for him to be so trusting, especially to a guy he just met. But I looked younger than I was. I was a little, innocent-looking, Japanese boy in NYC for the first time, I hardly looked like a threat." I smiled, recalling how I must have looked to Ash at the time.
Suddenly I was caught up in a coughing fit. These fits were getting more frequent and painful recently. Mikki fetched me a glass of water, helping me as I drank.
"Are you alright?" She asked with concern.
"I'm fine," I nodded and then continued my story. "So anyway, Ash was tough. Yes, physically he was tough-he could shoot with perfect aim, he could take down anyone who posed a threat to him or his gang- but also tough in spirit. His genius IQ was well over 200, not to mention he had willpower strong as titanium. And he had been through hell and back. The longer I knew him, the more I understood this. Ibe-san and I were swept up in his dangerous world. We grew close, and so I learned of Ash's past. At only eight years old, he shot and killed a man that had raped him."
"Eight?!" Mikki gasped.
"As a young boy on the streets, he was swept up into the mafia's child trafficking ring. Absolutely disgusting." I said shaking my head in disgust. I never did get over the thought of Ash being abused day in and day out for years. "He became the boss's favorite. Between selling him to his customers and using him for himself, he taught Ash to fight and survive on the streets. He raised him in the most perverse way imaginable."
I then continued to tell Mikki about Papa Dino, the Banana Fish drug, and all the other craziness we'd been involved in. I recalled my relationship with Ash. The way he was gruff and demanding towards everyone but me. I told her how he treated me with care.
I told her "He would speak to me gently, allow himself to be more vulnerable around me. He said my presence alone calmed him. He would let me hold him as he cried, comfort him when he was hurt. My favorite memory is when I fell asleep in his bed, holding him as he cried and cried like a baby." I smiled sadly, remembering the feel of his body in my arms that night. I went on "And he risked his life time and time again to protect me, to save me. I was absolutely in love with him. Though I never told him….but I'm certain he knew. Because I knew he felt the same, even if he never said it either. His actions showed it, I knew he loved me." Tears blurred my vision before beginning to stream down my face.
Mikki was crying too. She asked me softly "What happened? Why did the two of you not run away together? Why am I here today?"
"Ibe-san took me back to Japan. I bought Ash a ticket, hoping he'd come with me. I wanted him to be able to start a new life with me, away from everyone who had ever hurt him. And I'll never know for sure, but I think he would have come…" I paused, another coughing fit came and went. With a breaking voice, I continued "But he died. A few days after returning to Japan, I got the news. Ash had been stabbed to death. He was found in his favorite place, the NYC public library. He was found leaning over a table, covered in blood. In his bloody hands, he was still clutching the letter and plane ticket I had written him." I took a deep breath. "I never got to say goodbye! I never got to tell him I loved him, or hear him say those words to me." I choked out, breaking down and sobbing. As heartbreaking as it was, it was cathartic to finally tell this story to Mikki and whoever would listen to the recording in the future.
Mikki sat there crying with me and comforting me for a long time. After she left that evening, I felt an overwhelming sense of closure and peace. It was as if that's what my body had been waiting for, what I was hanging onto in this life. My story was told, it was complete. I could finally let go.
I died that night in my sleep. As my soul entered into the blindingly bright light, I looked down at myself, seeing I had taken the form of my much younger self once again. This was about how I looked when I met Ash, and later my wife, all those years ago. As I was fully immersed in the light, my surroundings came into focus and I could see again. I was in what resembled Japan. I was surrounded by a gorgeous, shimmering lake and hundreds of flowering sakura trees. And running towards me was my wife, looking as young as the day we met. She hugged me ridiculously tight.
"I am so happy to see you again, my love." she told me, kissing my face all over with tears streaming down her face. After a few moments, she pulled away and said lovingly, "there's someone else here to see you…"
I turned around hesitantly to see none other than the Ash Lynx standing behind me. I leapt into his arms, tears streaming down both our faces. He hugged me tightly. I lifted my mouth to his and we shared a long overdue, passionate kiss. I melted into his arms as we kissed, crying the whole time. I pulled apart, still holding his face. "I love you, Ash!" I blurted out "I have for so long! But I never got the chance to tell you!" I said, sobbing now.
He wiped away my tears, crying as he did so. "It's alright, Eiji," he told me, one hand stroking my hair while the other rested on my neck. "I always knew. I felt the same but I was too hurt, too scared to tell you. I was going to come with you to Japan! I was killed trying to reach you!" His voice cracked as he said "But you're here now, and I'm no longer afraid! I can tell you now, Eiji I loved you! And I love you still. Eiji, I'll never stop loving you!" He pulled me close and we remained there sobbing into each other for what felt like forever. Sakura blossoms rained down upon us. When we had both calmed down Ash pulled us apart and met my eyes.
"I can hold you to your promise, now" he began "now you can stay by my side forever." he finished with a smile and a small laugh. He kissed me lovingly again, followed by another tight hug. While we were still embraced, I felt my wife's arms wrap around us both. The three of us were caught in the most beautiful embrace, perhaps of all time. The Sakura blossoms continued to fall in the gentle breeze. Why had I been so afraid of death? This was just the entryway of heaven, I couldn't imagine what the rest held.
This is heaven. I am finally home.