Inspired by Yoshizumi Wataru's Marmalade Boy
Chapter 10: Scenes from the Hospital
"May I help you?" The nurse's voice was calm, controlled, suggesting she dealt with people whose loved ones were possibly dead or dying every day.
Which, Jin realized, was almost certainly the case. I'm not thinking straight. But how was he to think straight, with Rumi possibly de -- No, he couldn't think that, wouldn't think that.
The nurse was looking at him expectantly. Her professionalism asserting that this was real, not the nightmare that he so desperately wished it to be. "Excuse me," he wanted to say, "I know you're busy, but, you see, my ex-girlfriend, her name's Yamashita Rumi, she was hit by a motor scooter and brought to this hospital about an hour ago. I know you want immediate family, but hers don't live in Tokyo. They're coming, but in the meantime, can you tell me anything about her condition? You see she's more than just my ex-girlfriend, she's more like a sister. I mean, I can't remember a time I didn't know her and it's true we went through some rough times recently - most all of it being entirely my fault. But I think we have finally worked through it, and I just really have to know if she's going to be alright. Because if she isn't . . .if she . . .if . . ."
No, that wasn't the impression he wanted to make. Jin took a breath. And, while he ordered his thoughts for a competent and intelligible response, his companion stepped up to the counter, commanding the woman's attention.
"Miss Nurse, Miss Nurse. We're here about the girl who was hit by a scooter. Her name is Yamashita Rumi and this is her boyfriend, or was, and I'm Toshio Okada, the guy who hit her with my scooter, only its not mine I just borrowed it. And I'm not that good at driving it, which was why it hit her; I didn't realize who she was until afterwards. I told the paramedic that I was her ex-boyfriend's roommate and they said that I should find one of her relatives and leave them to do their job. So I brought Koishikawa-san here, who's as close to a relative as I could find because they're not from Tokyo. So tell me, is she alive? Please don't say I killed her!"
The nurse's smile held, but just barely. Jin could tell by twitching of her forehead. She turned to him, speaking hesitantly, just in case he was a basketcase as well.
"There was a young woman brought in about an hour ago who had been hit by a vehicle. You know her?"
"Yes, ma'am" Jin said, hoping he sounded rational and responsible.
It appeared he did, as the nurse nodded and whipped out a clipboard complete with forms and pen.
"Could you possibly fill these out? You can take a seat over there." Indicating a waiting room down the hall.
"Uh, yeah. But what about Rumi? Can't I see her?"
"I have to ask her doctor first, I'm sorry." The nurse dropped her eyes.
Panic seared through Jin's brain. "At least tell me if she's okay," he begged.
"I can't -" "Please." Why the secrecy? Why can't they tell me? Unless . . . unless something's really wrong.
The nurse bit her lip and there was a long pause before she said, "She's unconscious, but we think she'll be okay."
Okay. Okay. Okay. She'll be okay. Jin repeated the words, savoring them. He'd been so afraid for the last half-hour. Afraid Rumi would be dead or worse yet, a vegetable. Afraid that he'd never be able to talk or laugh or argue with her again. But she'd be okay. Okay.
"Did'ja hear that?" his roommate practically squeaked, "I didn't kill her."
"Now if you could just fill out those forms and return them," the nurse was saying," then I'll get the doctor and see if we can let you in to see her."
Jin nodded, "I'll fill them out right away."
He marched over to waiting room, hoping his eagerness and resolve would impress the nurse enough to get the doctor right away.
"This is just so great," Toshio said. "I mean I shouldn't have been so worried. People don't die from being hit by a moped. A motorcycle yes, especially one of those enormous American ones, you know, the pigs."
Jin grunted, only half listening. Toshio could carry on a completely one-sided conversation for quite some time. Once, as an experiment, Jin had timed him. Two hours and fourteen minutes on the role of the American Soviet Cold War and its effects on the occupation.
"Man, I am so glad Koinosuke didn't loan me one of those things. Not that Ako has a pig, or that he'd lend it to me if he did. Good thing, mopeds are dangerous enough, I've learned my lesson. I'm never driving that thing on the sidewalk again. I swear . . . "
I can't believe the cops only let him off with a ticket, thought Jin. Of course, if they had hauled him off to the station, then Jin might not have known anything was amiss until he was ready to leave the next morning.
Time to get these forms filled out. The first section was all general information. Name - Yamashita Rumi.
" . . .glad I was only going about 15 km per hour. But at the time of the accident, Koishikawa-san, you know, I really thought I might have killed her."
"So you said, numerous times." Jin muttered.
Address - did they want her parents or her Tokyo one? Jin decided to wait and ask them.
" . . .cause there was just blood everywhere. And Yamashita-san wasn't moving. She was just lying there . . ."
Gender - Female. Occupation - Student. Age - 20. I'm concentrating so hard on filling in the blanks, I'm not hearing a word he's saying. Really.
" . . .and then this woman started getting hysterical and started screaming that I was a hit and run driver. I wasn't running, I was standing right there . . ."
Birthday - June 8th. Three weeks ago. Jin had bought her a card, but hadn't been comfortable enough to send it. When Rumi got out of the hospital, he would give it to her. They'd be real friends again.
" . . . and this old guy grabbed my arm and said he was making a citizen's arrest and not to mess with him because he was a high judo master or something. Crazy coot, I bet I've seen enough Jackie Chan movies to take him on . . ."
The next section was entitled medical background. Blood type - B. He'd done enough of those personality tests with Rumi to know that one without thinking.
" . . .and he took on the whole gang with sports equipment. The hula-hoop move was the greatest. I don't know why he doesn't make an American movie. He'd be cheap too, because they wouldn't have to hire a stunt double . . ."
Operations, types and date - hadn't Rumi gotten her tonsils or appendix out in third grade? Skip for now. Allergies - hayfever, he thought. Vaccination record. Jin flipped through the pages; there were four more.
A good man admits when he is defeated. Jin sighed and started digging in his pocket for quarters; he was going to have to call for help on this one. Maybe he could handle finding a phone.
" . . .Pow. And then -"
"Toshio-san," Jin said as he stood up and scanned the room, "I've got to make a call."
"Huh? Why -"
"Koishikawa-kun." said a female voice behind him.
It was Fukutami Yayoi, sans luggage but otherwise unchanged from this afternoon when he and Rumi had bid her goodbye. All that work, and she still missed her flight?
"I just heard from the landlord." she said, "Is Rumi-chan okay?"
"Fukutami-san?" said Jin, "but I thought you were on your way to Hawaii."
"Oh, I got the days confused." She fluttered a hand in the air absentmindedly. "I don't leave until tomorrow. Lucky they agreed to check in my bags. I almost stayed at the airport hotel. Good thing I didn't. Was Rumi-chan really hit by a truck?"
"No, a motor scooter."
"My motor scooter." said Toshio as she stood up. "It was all my fault. I take complete responsibility."
"Do I know you?" Asked Fukutami, finally noticing Toshio.
"I'm Koishikawa's roommate," he said, looking slightly dejected.
"Really?"
"Yes. I'm Toshio Okada."
"Good for you. Koishikawa-san," she said, turning away from Toshio, "details. I'm an impatient person. Is Rumi alright?"
"She's unconscious right now, and they won't tell me much."
"Did she loose much blood? Did she break any bones? Does she need an organ transplant? Come on Jin, this might be a matter of life or death."
With a sinking feeling, Jin realized that there were worse things that Toshio's monologues. At least they didn't have the spine chilling drama of Fukutami's questions.
"I don't know. Listen, Fukutami-san, I need to make a phone call. Toshio should be able to help you."
Before she could protest, he was out of his seat and across the room.
"Did you hi t her hard? Like, what was your speed at the time?" Was the last thing he heard; he really didn't want to hear Toshio's response.
* * * * *
"Did you hit her hard? Like, what was your speed at the time?"
Chiyako sunk deeper into her seat behind Toshio, praying that Fukutami wouldn't recognize the back of her head.
She'd been sitting there for almost an hour, trying to work up the courage to approach the nurse on duty and ask about Rumi, or, failing that, to go home and try to pretend she'd never come. When she'd heard Jin's voice, she's almost stood right then. But he would have wanted to know why she was there, how she'd known about Rumi.
"Well," she'd have to say, "Rumi never changed her address card she kept in her wallet. So the hospital called me. Of course I gave them Rumi's new landlord's number. And then I ran out of the apartment and caught the first subway here because. . .because. . " Because why? She still didn't have a good answer. Curiosity and her impulsive nature were the obvious culprits, and what evidence was there to the contrary?
Not much. According to the rumors flying around campus, after she'd seduced her roommate's almost fiancée she'd kicked Rumi out of the apartment. Recently, she'd been accosted by a gaggle of sophomores asking if she'd indeed pawned the engagement ring that Jin had been supposedly been going to present to Rumi. Chiyako could tell that the ringleader, a mousy tennis player she'd beaten thoroughly the previous week, had made up the story on the spot. Chiyako had almost laughed it off — as far as gossip went, it was pretty tame — but there were the looks the rest of the group was giving her.
They bought it. Chiyako was sure of it. Every word, every detail. After over a month the hearsay had been accepted as fact. It hurt to have acquaintances, and even friends, believe that she was capable of such action.
She told Jin she didn't care. And she didn't, not much, really. Not enough to give up Jin, not enough to make her regret confessing her love to him.
And it was worth it, every last smirk and sneer they gave her, just as long as he was with her. As long was Jin knew the truth, as long as he knew the real Chiyako. Sometimes she thought he knew the real Chiyako better than she did. He always saw the best in her, assigning her such qualities as nobleness and courage and honor.
If she had stood when she heard his voice he wouldn't have questioned her presence, wouldn't have demanded explanations. She knew that, and still she'd remained seated.
Because just as there was an impulsive Chiyako who acted without thinking, there was a Chiyako who thought without acting. And that Chiyako thought, only fools believe a single rumor heard once, but if it's repeated and repeated with new lies added each time, only a fool won't believe. And Jin was no fool.
It was even worse now that was Fukutami here. Chiyako just knew that Rumi's new roommate had it in for her. Chiyako was grateful she was wearing a hat.
"You don't remember me at all?" Chiyako heard Toshio ask. He'd run out of accident recollections. "We were in the same intro art class two semesters ago. Human form and anatomy."
"Oh, you mean the nude model class?" Fukutami replied. "Are you a real art major, or did you just sign up to look at naked girls?"
"No, I took it for legitimate reasons. And I'm going to get into the art program, soon. I want to work for the animation industry."
"Uh huh, naked girls."
"There's a lot more to it. Animation can be this incredibly powerful medium. You should see some of the things the Europeans are doing with it. There's-"
"Yeah, spare me. Naked girls, giant robots and big explosions. It's there to make money and sell toys." Rumi could hear the contempt in Fukutami's voice.
"All art has commercial value to it, it doesn't make it less legitimate. Lots of people buy paintings to match their sofas and carpet."
"Humph. Maybe." Fukutami's voice was a bit less contemptuous. "I'm going to look for a vending machine. I debate better on a full stomach."
Score one for the fanboy, thought Chiyako. She didn't mind to see Fukutami taken down a peg, and by Jin's roommate no less.
Not that Jin ever said Toshio was stupid, jus t a bit strange. Apparently he was a political science major, but took, or sat in, on any class that interested him. Still, a girl could do worse, look at Rumi's taste in men.
She heard the sound of Fukutami's shoes clicking away, followed by Toshio's trademark shuffle. Now was her chance. She could escape and pretend she'd never even come. No embarrassment, no rumors, no one to know what she'd done.
Or that might have been the case if she hadn't run into Jin as she was exiting the lobby.
"Chiyako?" "I -" she started to explain, but he was already holding her, burying his face in her hair.
"Thanks for coming. I don't know how you knew, but thanks. I've been so worried about Rumi, and I . . ."
Chiyako put her arms around him, not caring about the spectacle they were making. She could feel the tension in his back. He needed her, wanted her. All her worries seemed pale and outlandish. If only I could believe in myself the way he believes in me.
"It's okay. I'm here." She whispered in his ear.
"I'm glad." He gave her one last squeeze and straightened up. "I just met with Rumi's doctor. She's woken up."
"Is she okay?" Chiyako asked, although she could already read the reply in Jin's smile.
"Apparently. Her left wrist is broken, and she's got a badly sprained ankle, but her vision is okay and she seems alert. She didn't know who the current Prime Minister is, but I guess there was a recent scandal and so we've got a new one. The doctor just thinks she's out of touch with current events. He said it happens all the time with college students."
"Will you be able to see her?"
"Soon. First I need to find Fukutami and Toshio. They'll want to see her too."
Fukutami's name was like a splash of cold water. Chiyako stepped back from Jin, letting go of his hand. "That's great," she said, "I should be going then-" "What? You're leaving?"
"Well, I don't think Rumi wants to see me." Not to mention Fukutami. "So, I think I'll just cut out now."
Jin gave her a measured look. "No." He said simply.
"What?"
"You're coming to see Rumi. This whole thing with you two not speaking is silly. I didn't tell you this yet, but today, before Rumi got in the accident, we had a talk. Well, actually we had an argument, but it ended with us talking. If Rumi can forgive me, then she ca n forgive you." He said it with the confidence of a movie actor, and Chiyako almost agreed with him. Almost.
As if reading her thoughts, Jin added, a bit less self-assured, "I'm seeing disagreement in your face. Am I getting something terribly wrong here? It wouldn't be the first time."
"No, you're right. Rumi and I need to stop this not speaking. But this might not be the place."
"Why, because she's doped up on meds? Seems like a perfect time to me. Listen, the doctor says we can only stay a few minutes. Just enough time to say hello and to wish her well. You'll break the ice and make it that much easier later on. Trust me."
And before she could protest, he took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. But still she felt unease. And Jin must have sensed it.
"You do want to see Rumi, don't you?"
Did she want to see Rumi?
Rumi? Of course she wanted to see Rumi. And why not, she hadn't stolen Jin from Rumi, she hadn't kicked Rumi out the apartment. I'm the one who started to believe the rumors, she realized with a start.
"Yes, Jin. I want to see Rumi, I think I've wanted to see her for some time."
And, she thought, I want to find out what Rumi believes of me.
* * * * *
The painkillers were starting to kick in. Rumi could tell because it didn't hurt to breathe. If this was only from a scooter, she gave silent thanks that Jin's roommate hadn't been driving a car. She was sure that it had been him, although the doctor told her memories might be confused from the concussion she was suffering. She could believe that; she had the worst headache of her life.
"Yamashita-san?" There was nurse in the doorway; Rumi recognized the white headdress. "There are some people who want to see you. They'll be here in just a moment."
Rumi nodded weakly, wondering whom it could be. Youji - her heart leaped at the thought. But no, Youji had gone home today, and even if he hadn't, they'd parted badly. He doesn't love me, she thought, not like I loved him.
What a day. Youji didn't love her, she'd been hit by a scooter, and she still wasn't packed for her trip home tomorrow. Well, the last thing wasn't important, she doubted she'd be out of the hospital in time to catch the train. She was almost grateful for this; she had a justification for feeling lousy.
Why couldn't she have realized her true feelings earlier? If she hadn't agreed to the plan in the first place, if her friendship with Youji hadn't been based on deception, would he have liked her more? He'd seen her at her worst, seen what lengths she could go to - was it any wonder he didn't want to get involved with her romantically?
No. She wasn't at fault. Or, she was. She had tried to break up Chiyako and Jin, and that wasn't a good thing. But the whole thing with Youji had to do with him being in love with Chiyako.
Guys always want what they can't have, that's what Yayoi had said. And Youji couldn't have Chiyako. But what if Rumi were unavailable, then maybe . . . It was a pleasant thought and she couldn't help but savor it, knowing all the while she wouldn't resort to such a trickery. It hadn't worked before; it wouldn't work now.
On the bright side, she had no motivation to date Hirokazu Nabishi ever again. That brought a smile to her face. Ouch. Even smiling hurt.
"Rumi?"
"Jin?" She turned to the door where three or four blobs of people crowded together. "Is that you Jin?"
"Yes." He sounded concerned. "Is there something wrong with your eyes, Rumi? The doctor said -"
"My eyes are fine, but my glasses got broken. So I'm blind as bat."
"I'm so sorry, Yamashita-san." said another blob, "I'll buy you new ones, even if I have to sell my limited edition MSZ-006 Zeta Gundam. It's a collector's item."
"Is that Toshio-san?" Rumi asked, recognizing the subject if not the voice. "So it was you on the scooter."
"Yes. I'm really sorry." Even Toshio's voice was cringing.
"Everyone makes mistakes." Rumi said with more benevolence than she felt. "Yeah, but most people's mistakes don't put people in the hospital with a broken arm, a hairline leg fracture, and a concussion." Blob number three, female this time.
"Yayoi? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be on your way to Hawaii" "Got my days confused. I don't leave for Hawaii until tomorrow."
Rumi would have shaken her head if not for the pain it would bring. Yayoi was a fine person for criticizing others mistakes. The blobs moved closer and Rumi could make out a fourth form, standing just behind the Jin blob.
"Who else it there?" she asked.
"It 's Chiyako," said Jin, and Rumi could hear the slight concern in his voice.
Rumi squinted, trying to make out something of Chiyako's expression. They had barely spoken this last month not since Rumi had moved out of their shared apartment. But she had been aware of Chiyako the whole time, what with all the scheming and planning.
And she missed Chiyako. Yayoi was a great roommate, but Chiyako had been a true friend. Until she stabbed me in the back by stealing my boyfriend! No, until Chiyako and Jin had started dating about a month after Rumi and Jin had stopped. And until Rumi and company had set about breaking up the couple.
So we're both at fault. Which means we can both start over.
"Thanks for coming." Rumi said, hoping she sounded as sincere as she felt.
"Well, I had to make sure you were okay." Chiyako sounded pensive. "So, how are you feeling?"
"I've felt better."
"Did I say I'm really, really sorry?" said Toshio.
Before Rumi had to reassure him again, Chiyako broke in.
"Enough with all that. I'm not sure if you realized, what with your glasses broken and all, but your doctor is one major hunk."
"Really, he's got a nice voice, but I wasn't sure. What's he look like?"
"Well . . ."
And it was alright. It felt more like a reunion than a make up apology. But then, Chiyako and Jin knew nothing of the plan. Knew nothing of the steps Rumi had taken to break them up. Rumi felt a twinge of guilt. I'll make it up to them, she promised herself, and they'll never know what for,
The fifteen minutes allotted for visiting went by far too fast. They all, with the exception of Yayoi, promised to return the next day. It seemed like a long way off, but then the nurse blob brought her the next set of meds, and Rumi was fast asleep in no time.
* * * * *
"So, you promised to tell me how the whole "Get Chiyako Back" plan worked when you got home, Youji." Said his sister, Emiko, "Last night you were too tired, and all this morning you were talking to Grandma's doctors. I'm only fourteen years old (author's note, check if I've listed Emiko's age anywhere), and I just can't wait anymore."
They were sitting in the old tea house overlooking the garden's pond. It wasn't more than five meters from the house, but the artfully grown trees gave it the feeling of privacy; not that privacy was an issue when there were only three members to the household. Youji had chosen this spot to talk, although he hadn't thought that Emiko would broach this subject first. I suppose when you've just become a teenager, the subject of romance outweighs everything else.
The "Get Chiyako Back" plan. Had he really ever called it that?
"It didn't work out. Turns out that both Rumi and I are woefully bad schemers. Or maybe in the end, we just didn't want it badly enough."
"Didn't want it badly enough?" Emiko repeated. "When you and Chiyako broke up you were all 'I'm so miserable' and then, when you were planning to get her back, you were like so much happier."
"I-" How did one explain such things to a teenager? Or, as he thought about it, to himself. "Breaking-up puts you in a bit of a funk."
"Funk?"
Youji said nothing for a while, searching for the way to describe real life romance to a girl who owned every Ribbon comic published in the last ten years. Across the pond, Youji could see a dark shape approaching them. It had to be Hitchcock, the pond's only carp. He started digging in his pocket for the crackers he'd brought.
"When you're in a relationship," he said finally, "you tend to arrange your life around this other person, to plan everything with them in mind. And suddenly, you're not together anymore, and you have all these empty spaces — both time wise and preference wise. All of your old activities feel wrong, because you're doing them alone. Doing new things helps. And, eventually, you get use to doing things on your own, even old activities. I think the whole plan was really just a new thing that kept me from being depressed."
Emiko gave him a wary glance. "So, if it was just a distraction, then were you the bad guys?"
"I, I guess so. Are you disappointed?"
"Are you kidding?" Emiko stood and spun around to face Youji. There was a wicked gleam in her eyes. "The bad guy is always the sexiest character. The one who says," here she dropped her voice, "If I can't have you, no one will. Bah hah hah hah! I mean, all through high school, you were just too nice. It was always, 'Emiko, why can't you be more like your brother?' It's a big relief to know you have a selfish side."
"All my secrets are coming out." He laughed along with her and handed her the crackers.
Emiko stepped over to the teahouse's ledge, and on cue, Hitchock raised his head. In all the shrines and temples, Youji had never seen a carp as large as this one, or, in Youji's opinion, as ugly. It was a solid gray with long whiskers. On several occasions, Youji had tried to stock the pond with the color varieties, but they always disappeared within a week, leaving only Hitchcock with a satisfied look on his face.
"And Rumi's great too." Said Emiko, her back to him as she tossed cracker bits at the fish. "The woman scorned, who plots her rival's downfall, who will stop at nothing to get her man back."
Youji stopped laughing, "No, that's not Rumi at all."
"Huh?"
"She's not like that at all. If Chiyako had suddenly come back to me, I don't know what I'd have done." Probably been very grateful, he had to acknowledge. "I think Rumi was close to getting Jin back, and she knew it. But it would have hurt people, and she knew that too. It's really noble that she called it off." Funny how he hadn't thought about it that way at the time.
"To stop doing something is easy." Emiko said dismissively, brushing the final cracker bits from her hands. "I've seen that happen, lots. One of my girlfriends last semester was totally gaga about this guy. She even wrote him a love letter and put it in his locker. But when he didn't respond, she found someone else pretty quick."
"I think Rumi's going to have a much harder time than your friend. For starters, she's going to have to deal with Hirokazu's advances."
"Hirokazu?" His sister's attention was once again focused on him. "You mean the tennis captain?"
"Yeah. Turns out he's serious about Rumi. I'm afraid he's going to propose marriage."
"How romantic. Marriage. The deception that's revealed to be true love."
Youji snorted, "Rumi does not like Hirokazu, no way she'd marry him."
"Really? He sound's like a catch. Let's see, you've told me he's rich, and handsome, and a bit of a playboy."
"A lot of a playboy. Not to mention snobbish, conceited, and extremely possessive. Trust me, Rumi sees him for what he really is." But as he spoke, he felt his conviction waver. Rumi hadn't seemed too disturbed by thoughts of Hirokazu at the train station. What had she been saying? There had been something . . .
"Okay, Youji. I'm only kidding. You take it so seriously."
"Well . . ." Surely he hadn't meant to sound so forceful, "It's just, marrying the wrong person, or marrying for the wrong reasons, can really screw you up."
His sister sighed in the practiced way of teenagers, "I know, Youji. I do remember a bit of Mom and Dad's marriage. You don't need to keep warning me."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply." He shook his head, "I was thinking . . ."
"About what?"
"I was trying to remember my last talk with Rumi. She told me I was interrupting her. And I was."
"I don't believe it. I've seen you on the phone for hours with girls, not saying a word while they go on and on."
"Yeah. But that time . . . She was telling me that she didn't love Jin anymore, that she was giving up on the plan. But instead of respecting her for it, I got rather angry."
"Wow, Youji." There was no sarcasm in her voice, "That's really not like you. She must have done something really annoying. I mean, really, really annoying."
"No, I think it was just me. I was worried about Hirokazu harassing her, but that's silly. I mean, Rumi's pretty modern, there's no way she's going to get married against her will."
He paused, trying to recapture his mood from the previous day. Emiko waited patiently for him to continue.
"It's totally unreasonable, but I think I was mad at her for giving up on the plan. Or, the way she was giving up on it. She knew how much work I put into it, she had to know, but she wasn't the least sorry or apologetic. It was like she thought I'd be pleased"
"Maybe she thought you'd be glad not to have to work on it anymore."
"Why would she think that? Working on the plan was, was-"
"A distraction?"
"A dis - No, I mean it was, but it was a kick too. Getting together and scheming with Rumi and Fukutami was great. Well, Fukutami could be a bit of a pain, but Rumi knew how to handle her. She always seemed to have a good time, or so I thought. I don't know, maybe she was getting tired of it all. Or maybe she thought I was getting tired of it . . . I hope I didn't give her that impression."
"You can apologize later, Youji."
"Oh, yeah. I'll need to apologize. I was really was out of line."
Emiko shook her head, an odd smile on her face.
"What?"
"Nothing. Or maybe not?"
"What?" he repeated.
"Just a thought. But what would I know, I haven't even had my first kiss."
"Emiko . . ."
"You'll just have to figure it out for yourself," And she dashed out of the teahouse and towards the house. She'd gotten taller this last year, and was surprisingly fast. Youji only caught up to her as she was putting on her house slippers. Before he could press her for details, he saw his grandmother standing silently, hand resting on the telephone. There was a confused look on her face.
"Grandmother." He said softly,
She turned and the look was replaced by her usual steely determination. "Well, you were certainly gone long enough. I suppose you always eat this late at college."
"It's only five." Protested Emiko.
"Don't be fresh, Emiko. It's not ladylike." His grandmother raised the phone, "I just received a call from Chiyako, your girlfriend-"
"Grandmother, I told you, Chiyako and I broke-"
"Youji, I will not be treated as a child in my own house. Now, if you're willing to listen, your current girlfriend, who is not Chiyako, is in the hospital. She was in an accident. Chiyako wanted to let you know."
Hospital. The word still conjured forth unsettling memories, which Youji pushed back, concentrating instead on the present problem, or problems. Which misunderstanding should he address first? "What's my girlfriend's name, Grandmother?"
She gave him an ironic smile, "Maybe you should be the one getting all the tests, Youji. Your girlfriend's name is Yamashita, Yamashita Rumi."
There was a hollow tin sound to his grandmother's voice and the name rang in Youji's mind. Rationality called upon him to correct his grandmother about his relationship with Rumi, to press her for exact details, to call Chiyako and straighten up the misunderstanding. But he was already beyond rationality, lost in old memories and nightmares.
"No, I won't allow it." Youji heard his father's voice from his hiding place behind the large potted plant. "Subjecting the children to such a sight. Of all the selfish —"
"Please, Matsuura-san," the doctor pleaded, "She's dying, and she knows it. She could slip away at any moment. Surely she has a right to see them, as their mother —"
"As their mother, she shouldn't be in her current situation. As far as I'm concerned, she's forfeited any right . . ."
Youji didn't wait to hear the rest. Once his father made up his mind, that was that. As a ten year old, he didn't understand much of the conversation, but he did know that Father wasn't going to let him see Mother. But they hadn't seen him, they didn't know he knew. If he could just find the room, find his mother, then everything would be all right, or at least normal. All the grown-ups were acting so strange. Aunt Mikiko had taken Emiko "so she wouldn't be in the way" And Grandma kept saying that Youji had to be responsible now. It didn't make any sense. He had to find his mother; she would explain what was happening, why father was mad at her this time.
He had to move quickly, Grandma would notice his absence soon enough. He snuck along the hallway until he found just the right type of nurse. She was young and appeared not to be terribly busy.
"I'm lost," he said hoping he sounded forlorn enough, "my mom is Matsuura Keiko. Can you please take me to her room?"
The nurse looked down at him and smiled, "Sure thing, sweetie."
Youji followed her obediently up and down hallways, trying his best to peer into the rooms they passed. In one of those beds was his mother, and he had to find her as quickly as possibly. It was while the nurse was consulting a chart that he caught sight of the familiar green drooping hat, sitting on a chair just inside a darkened room.
The nurse's back was to him as he slipped into the room and ran to the bed. But it wasn't his mother asleep in the bed. The woman was pale and listless, her face slack and her hair a disheveled, oily mess. No, his mother's skin was never so puffy, nor her lips cracked and bulging. Still, there were traces of familiarity, the tilt of her nose, the bright paint on her fingernails.
His eyes fell to the locket around the woman's neck, so like the one his mother wore. His mother's held a small photograph of the three of them, Mother, Emiko, and him. Very carefully, his hand reached out, brushing against her cold skin. His finger pressed the release, opening the pendant, and he leaned in close to see through the gloom.
Click, and the room was filled with light.
"Youji!" he heard his father's voice behind him. "What are you doing here?" His arm was grabbed and he was pulled back roughly. The locket's fine wire thread snapped and he saw the locket go flying, the image of three figures flashed briefly.
"Momma." He screamed. And screamed, and screamed, as they dragged him away down the hallway.
Such an old memory, but still it seemed so fresh, so vivid. The hospital smells, patients peering out of the rooms as he was hauled away, the prick of the needle as they administered the sedative. When he woke the next afternoon, his mother was already dead, her body cremated, the funeral, he was told, had be performed that morning.
He was left with the feeling of helplessness. Be strong, he had been told, be strong for your sister, for your family. But how could he be strong, when he had been so powerless for his mother? Time had taken her away while he slept, and he could do nothing.
He checked his watch, twenty minutes past nine, ten more minutes before he would allow himself to try Chiyako's number again. God, the manager must be sick of him by this point, but what else could he do, so far away with such a cryptic message?
When he pressed his grandmother for more information, she gotten flustered, and then defensive. He'd been afraid to push further, and tried instead to contact Chiyako. But he only got the apartment's manager, who said she'd leave a message. Youji had eaten his dinner next to the phone, much to his grandmother's annoyance.
No phone calls. He tried Rumi's place, no answer. Youji thought briefly of calling information for all the hospitals in the Tokyo area, but while it would keep him occupied, it would also tie up the phone line if Chiyako was trying to reach him. In the end, he'd settled on trying Chiyako's place every half-hour, hoping it wouldn't be too annoying.
"Things will be alright." Said Emiko as she sat down next to him. "Grandma just got the message wrong."
"You mean someone else might be in the hospital?" He tried to say lightly. "No, but maybe Chiyako said 'Rumi's in the hospital but she's alright.'" She put her arm around him and squeezed reassuringly.
"I keep telling myself that, but being here, so far away . . ."
"I understand. Sometimes it takes a shock to see things clearly."
"What?" He twisted to look at her knowing face.
"You and Rumi." Said Emiko quietly and seriously.
"I don't —" Youji began.
"Come on Youji, I could see it this afternoon in the tea house. When we were talking it was so obvious, even if you couldn't admit it then. You have feelings for Rumi. You're in love with her."
"What? That's not the way it is between Rumi and me at all, Emiko. We're friends, yes, but we're not romantically attracted to each other."
His sister gave him a reproachful look. "Why not?"
"Why not what?"
"Why aren't you attracted to her? Is she ugly?"
"I never said that." Rumi's image came to mind, her long black hair and her expressive eyes, large behind her glasses, "She's actually quite cute. But just because a girl's pretty doesn't mean I have to fall in love with her." He realized he was sounding defensive. "The truth is, Emiko, when I first met Rumi, I was attracted to her. But then I found out she had a boyfriend,"
"Unemoto Tokio had a boyfriend and that didn't stop you from pining for her all through junior high school." Trust a little sister to remember. "And Takahashi what's-her-name, from sophomore year. You helped her get her boyfriend back, and afterwards you confessed to me that you loved her the whole time."
"Emiko, I'm not saying I didn't make that mistake in the past, but at least I'm trying not to screw up that way now. Rumi was dating Jin, and that ended my little infatuation with her."
"But afterwards —"
"Afterwards she was still in love with Jin," or at least thought she was. Too bad she couldn't have figured out her true feelings sooner. Or maybe not, he thought it's not like anyone got hurt, and we did have fun.
"No, I mean at the train station." Said Emiko, "when she told you she didn't love Jin. Didn't you feel attracted to her then?"
"Of course — Well — I . . ." He had meant to refute her, to end this silly misunderstanding. But . . . Oh, come now Youji, he scolded himself, you've never been impressed with the hero realizing ten minutes to the end of the picture that the one he really loved was his spunky sidekick sort of plot twist. And besides, we know you're not the hero. And —
Ring, went the phone. Still in a daze, Youji picked up the receiver. It was Chiyako. There had been miscommunication; Rumi was fine, or mostly so. Chiyako rattled on the particulars, but Youji barely heard her.
Could he be in love with Rumi? And if so, for how long? It wasn't the earth shaking revelation of American movies. It felt more like finding your keys, and realizing you had been looking right past them for the last hour. The foolishness he felt was deterred by his relief. So many of his actions, so many of his frustrations now fit logically into place.
There was silence on the other end; obviously Chiyako had asked him something. "Sorry," he said, "I didn't catch that."
"I asked if you were coming back anytime during break?"
"Oh, yes I'd been planning to." For the last five minutes, he added silently. All this sudden insight wouldn't do him any good until he found out how Rumi felt about him. "Maybe the weekend after next?"
"Sounds good, but you'll probably miss Rumi and Jin."
"What? They wouldn't release her from the hospital by then."
"Oh, I wouldn't count on that. She's getting pretty feisty. The doctor may let her out next week even."
"Oh." He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice. Was there any time this next week to get away? He'd need at least two days including travel, and there just wasn't enough time. He'd have to content himself with seeing Chiyako; maybe she could give insight into Rumi's loyalties. Should he seek her help now?
No! Not yet. Things were happening to quickly, and if he played the part of the love struck fool, there was no telling what damage he might do. He needed time for cool, rational and logical thought. He excused himself from the conversation quickly and hung up. Emiko was giving him the "tell-me-everything" look. Well, after he filled her in on every single detail, then he'd get around to the business of cool, rational thinking.
Copyright Dec 2000 Kim Smuga-Otto