The Dog In Her (5)
Saki's focus wandered like a new kid in school, going in every possible direction except for where it was supposed to be. Since primary school, she had a talent for daydreaming while merely looking focused, using the power of her imagination to turn the blackboard into another window in the room, complete with a blue sky and white clouds and trees swaying in the breeze.
She hated that everyone in her class knew she had her surgery at the end of the week. Besides Aoi, not even her friends from camp knew. It wasn't fair. The boys in her year were especially guilty of handling her with kid gloves. Any time she walked around between class periods, they'd scramble ahead to open doors for her or hover around her locker offering to carry her books.
Already fidgety and jittery about the surgery, Saki had no patience for these guys with their lips firmly glued to her ass.
Finally, sometime after lunch, she snapped, "I'm not some flimsy piece of origami. I can do everything by myself."
A tide of frantic apologies and groveling ensued. She rolled her eyes at them. It was all so embarrassing. As for the girls in her class, they kept a distance from her, clearly jealous and resentful that she was getting all the attention from the boys. Attention she didn't even want. What she wanted was to pull her hair and scream. Needless to say, being in school was waking misery. She much preferred being at home, where she didn't have to put in energy pretending to pay attention, where she can get away from those obnoxious boys and hang out with the Kemonogami instead.
She felt bad for hogging the time spent with Labramon. Whenever she could, she set up a video chat with Aoi so the two could catch up and check on each other.
"Don't feel bad about that, Saki," Aoi said the other day. "This is part of the deal we made. I wouldn't have entrusted my partner with anyone else. And I want to catch up with you, too."
"Oh, there's nothing too exciting from my end," Saki replied with a wave of her hand. What Aoi said about trusting her sent up a swell of warmth from the bottom of her chest. "Unless you want to hear about boys being annoying."
The older girl giggled. "By all means, please elaborate."
Saki launched into a tirade on all the ways the boys at school got on her nerves. Aoi listened all the while failing to fight back a smile.
She winked. "Sounds like you're quite the catch in your class."
Saki let out a dramatic groan in response. "I'd actually prefer if they just ignore me or treat me like I'm nothing special," she admitted. "Anyway, on to more important things: you're still coming over this afternoon, right?"
"You bet. I just need to stop by my house to find and grab my old notebooks."
Aoi had promised that she would visit to give Saki her old notes. Saki had taken Aoi's advice to ask the teachers shortly after dismissal what lessons they had planned for the next few days and weeks. Saki had never felt this proactive and studious about school before. Maybe she was getting a glimpse of what it was like to be Aoi. It made her feel pretty damn good.
Aoi arrived at Saki's house in her dad's truck. Saki had prepared little afternoon snacks in the kitchen, and pulled Aoi to the dining table insisting that she helps herself to them. Aoi had her phone in her free hand all the while, texting with one very fast thumb.
"I need to let my mom know I'm over at your place. She said to let her know as soon as Dad dropped me off."
Saki laughed. "Your mom doesn't give you a rest, huh?"
"No," Aoi said with a resigned smile.
Saki dipped back to the kitchen to produce the snack trays as Aoi settled into the dining table.
"Saki, these are so cute!" Aoi gingerly picked up a piece from the tray offered. "What are they? I've never seen them before."
"They're called ants on a log. It's a classic American snack. I read about them on a food blog."
"I can see why they're called that. The raisins are the ants and the celery is the log. Very cute."
Saki knew how much Aoi was a sucker for cute things.
Floramon and Labramon ran downstairs to reunite with their partners. "Hi, Aoi," Labramon said with a furious wag of her tail. "Those look tasty, Saki. May I try some?"
Saki frowned. "Actually, Labramon, you probably shouldn't. Raisins are toxic to dogs, and the last thing I want is to poison you. So I made something different just for you! Here, try these." Saki produced a tray arrayed with salted jerky on cheese and crackers. "My dad loves jerky. I'm sure you will, too."
Labramon's tail didn't stop wagging. "Okay, I'll try those then. Thank you, Saki!"
The Kemonogami occupied remaining seats at the table, munching happily on snacks while the girls spread out their school notebooks. As Saki reported what the teachers had told her, Aoi's face took on a thoughtful expression as she sorted through her notes, which were meticulously tabbed, ordered, and highlighted.
"Your handwriting is so neat, Aoi," Saki exclaimed. "Mine is god-awful chicken scratch."
"It's not bad at all, you're just being too hard on yourself."
"And you're being too nice."
"Trust me, I've seen much worse. Don't get me wrong, I love my dad to the moon and back, but I can't read his handwriting to save my life."
"Probably because a big guy like him needs pens the size of my wrist!"
The girls burst out laughing.
As Saki added Aoi's notes to her binder, she asked, "When are the tryouts, by the way?"
"In two weeks," Aoi replied. "I've never been part of any sports team before, and I've never been the most athletic. I need to train for the time trials. Train to be good enough for training." She laughed at herself. "Isn't that sad?"
"That just means you're taking it seriously, which you should. Kids who think they already have it in the bag slack off playing video games or something." A eureka moment struck Saki like lightning. "Hey, I know the perfect person who can help you. Remember I said that my dad is a PE coach? He trains the track team at his school every year. Come over to my place and he can give you all the tricks of the trade."
"Oh, I don't want to bother your dad..."
"He won't be bothered at all! He'd be more than happy to help. Besides, he'd be over the moon to coach the next biggest star athlete."
Amusement tugged at one corner of Aoi's lips. "Your confidence in me is something else."
There was a click of keys turning the door from the front, and Saki's parents came home from work.
Jiro made a cheerful wave as he was shrugging out of his school jacket. "Hi there, Aoi, welcome again to our home."
She rose and bowed to Saki's parents. "Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Kimishima."
Reika waved at Aoi to sit back down. "Once the first time was enough, dear," she said warmly. "You're always welcome here, especially since you've been so supportive and helpful to Saki."
"She told me you're going to try out for track?" Jiro asked.
"Yes, that's the plan," Aoi replied. "I've never joined any sports team before, so I got my work cut out for me."
"Well, I happen to train and corral high school speedsters for a living." Saki's father spoke with the confidence of someone who's been doing it for years, probably before his daughter was even born. "If you want insider info on cracking high school teams, I'm your man."
Saki grinned from ear to ear, looking like she might just vibrate out of her seat. "I was telling her that you're perfect for the job. She's got two weeks until the time trials. Oh, Aoi, I almost forgot: we got a treadmill in the study room and you're totally free to use it."
"Oh, please do," her mom insisted. "I paid a good amount for it. My husband sits around watching baseball all day and doesn't use it enough." She gave Jiro a playful tweak of his ear as she said this, and Saki giggled.
"Th-that's perfect," Aoi said. "I was thinking of just running laps around the block, but my mom would have better peace of mind if I ran inside at a friend's house."
Saki joined her hands into a single satisfactory clap. "It all works out beautifully." Another reason for Aoi to come over, more chances to see her...Saki couldn't ask for a better arrangement.
"You're welcome to stay with us for dinner, Aoi," Reika said from the kitchen.
"Thank you for the offer, but I've got to head home soon." Aoi gathered her remaining notebooks into her bag and slung the strap over her shoulder. She made an apologetic smile. "My mom doesn't like it when I'm out of the house past sundown."
"Your mother shouldn't have reason to fret so much...you seem so mature and independent for your age."
The smile Aoi made didn't reach her eyes. "Not a lot of reason goes into fretting in the first place." She looked back to Saki. "I'll see you again on Friday."
Saki waved. "Yep, see you later!"
Aoi gave Labramon a brief tight hug before leaving the house.
Jiro settled into the seat Aoi had just left, casting an impressed eye over the notes she had also left behind. "That girl knows how to stay organized. Now you got no excuse to slack off in school, Sunshine."
"I won't slack off, Papa. Being around Aoi actually got me motivated to give it my best shot." Just like how Aoi would give it her all in track.
The day before the scheduled surgery, Saki was a nervous wreck. That day she didn't bother pretending to pay attention in class. Maybe that was why the teachers let it slide, said nothing of it, and called on other kids to participate. When Saki got home after school, a bomb dropped into the Survivor group text.
"I'm living with the professor and Miyuki for now," Shuuji said. "Really long story. So sorry for worrying everyone."
The group text exploded. Saki's phone vibrated so much from the onslaught of replies that she had to adjust her settings and silence her phone before finding the words for her own reply.
She sent a direct text to Shuuji: "So so glad to hear back from you! What happened? Ok if I call after dinner?"
Saki ended up soaking in everything from Shuuji over the phone for the rest of the night as he filled her in on what had happened to him since camp. It was a lot, to say the least. Saki was grateful for the bed she was lounging on; her head reeled and spun too much from what she had heard.
"I-I don't know what to say," which was all she could say, and she felt stupid for it. "Jeez, Shuuji, I'm so sorry."
"It is what it is." His resignation sounded practiced, honed from those days of being homeless. "I literally owe my life to the professor and Miyuki. They took me in without a second thought and have been nothing but the kindest."
"Gabumon and Renamon have been so nice, too," came Lopmon's gentle voice in the background. Saki heard a slight shuffle from the other end, probably from Shuuji angling the phone so he and his partner could share the speaker. "Gabumon gave me the softest pillows for my bed, and Renamon makes sure I have enough to eat."
"Renamon being nice?" Floramon cut in. "That's a first."
"Floramon," Saki said with a roll of her eyes, but with a reprimand that was only half-hearted, and with a cheeky grin, because she had thought the exact same thing.
Labramon inched closer to the edge of Saki's bed to join the conversation. "That makes it two of us who have to bunk in with other people, Lopmon."
"Oh, yes, I heard about you from Aoi." Lopmon's sympathy rang clear from the other end. "I hope that her mother will accept you one day, Labramon."
"I hope so, too. And not just me with her..." Labramon looked to the stars glittering outside of Saki's bedroom window. "I hope that our kind can be accepted by all humans and we can live together in harmony."
"That would be paradise," Shuuji said. "I'm with you there. I've never before felt so sure of myself and at peace than when I'm with Lopmon. I want everyone to have those kind of feelings from that bond."
Saki nodded furiously, and feeling silly for not realizing he couldn't see her nod over the phone, she said, "Yeah, the world would be such a better place for it. But one step at a time, right? Can't do something big without starting small. If Labramon can be truly accepted by Aoi's family, that's a success in of itself."
"You're right, Saki. Very mature of you to point out as much." Then he sighed. "At least Aoi's got a better chance at making that happen than I do. Sorry, I didn't mean to throw a pity party for myself..."
"Don't be," Saki quickly replied. And just as quickly, she added, "Maybe your family by blood can't accept you, but you've got us, another kind of family. Family by...I don't know, bonds? Brotherhood? But we're not all boys…Jeez, I'm trying to make this work..."
Shuuji burst out laughing in long earnest. "I know what you're getting at. And I really appreciate how you think of us that way, Saki. I'm so glad I have you guys to lean on."
"Yeah, we'll always have your back." His sincerity swept away the awkwardness that had engulfed her. "Anyway, speaking of Aoi, good move to call her first, Shuuji. No wonder she wasn't asking about you earlier."
"Maybe you're wondering why I didn't think to call Takuma, since he's helped us sort out so many of our problems before. But in that subway, lost and alone and scared out of my mind, and there's something about the way Aoi makes you feel safe and secure..."
"No, I totally get it. I really do. I feel like I can share my biggest fears and darkest secrets with her." Saki already had. But she didn't admit this to Shuuji, not even on the night before her surgery.
"You're still up, Sunshine?" Jiro poked his head through the bedroom door. "But it's night out, the sun should be down."
He liked to say that when he caught her staying up late.
Saki fought back a grin as she said into the phone, "Sorry Shuuji, gotta bounce. I have to wake up really early tomorrow."
He didn't ask why. Instead he said, "Okay, sorry to keep you up. We can always talk later. Good night, Saki."
Jiro joined his daughter at the bedside, and it creaked under his weight as he sat beside her. "One of your friends from camp?"
"Yeah, just wanted to make sure he was all right. He had it real rough when we got back from that other world. Basically he got kicked out of the house and he's living with the professor for now."
He raised his eyebrows. "Gosh. You weren't kidding. I can see why you'd be worried." He wrapped an arm over her shoulders and asked softly, "How are you feeling about tomorrow?"
"I'm worried about that, too," she admitted. She started to swing her legs back and forth in time with her quickening heartbeat. "Shuuji said we can always talk later." Tears tugged at the corners of her eyes. "He doesn't know. He has no idea there may not be a later for me…"
Her father tightened his grip on her shaking shoulders and he pulled her in close. He didn't tell her what to feel or what not to feel. He stayed silent to hear her out. Saki loved that about her dad. He did all his coaching at a high school, not here at home. She leaned onto him and cried into the collar of his jersey. She'd rather cry it all out tonight so Aoi wouldn't have to see her like this the next day. She felt Floramon wrap her little arms around her waist, and the nudge of Labramon's snout against her knee. They didn't say anything about how she should feel either. She could be herself here and no one would judge her for it.
As she patted Floramon's hand and Labramon's head, her sobs died down into sniffles. Already she felt better, and not so fixated on the doom and gloom. "The doctors did say that there's a fair chance I can make it through and have a good recovery. A fair chance is better than none. I'll take the odds I can get."
"That's my girl," Jiro said with a fond pat on her shoulder. "You know why I always call you Sunshine?"
Of course she knew. Since she was little, she had heard it a billion times. But she was more than happy to hear it for the billionth and first time.
"You were born a few weeks early, small and frail. Your heart wasn't built and working right, and the doctors needed to fix it. But just because you were sick doesn't make you weak. You were such a fighter, stronger than any high school athlete I've ever coached. You pulled through and here you are now, and my world is better and brighter for it." He kissed the top of her head. "You're born with all that blonde hair for a reason. You're my bright ray of sunshine, don't you ever forget it."
Saki teared up again and hugged her father fiercely. For years, growing up chronically ill, she kept wondering if he had ever wished for a boy instead, or at least a kid who could play run or swim or punt a ball without collapsing out of breath. Because what kind of coach's kid couldn't even play sports? But her dad would reassure her with that story—her superhero origin story, he liked to call it. "You're better than even the best player at my school," he'd also say. "Because even the best player is no ray of sunshine. And you need sunshine to live, right?"
Now knowing the kind of father Shuuji was cursed with, Saki gave her own father the tightest hug she could muster. "You always know how to make me feel better, Papa. Thank you."
He hugged her back, not too tightly but as fiercely as gentleness could permit. "Don't mention it, Sunshine." The bed creaked again as he rose. "Now get some sleep. We have to wake up at the buttcrack of dawn tomorrow."
She giggled as she pulled the blankets to her chin. "Good night, Papa." Once Jiro shut the door behind him, she rolled over to her side. "Psst, Labramon, can you sleep up here next to me and Floramon? Just for this one night, please?"
Saki put enough pleading into her voice, and maybe enough of that deep-seated fear showed in her eyes that Labramon did not object as she normally would. With a silent, nimble jump, Aoi's partner joined Saki and Floramon in bed. Labramon's fur felt warm and soft against Saki, even through her pajamas. She couldn't help feeling she was robbing Aoi of that companionship. Labramon curled up tighter against Saki in an attempt to calm her heart rate, making the guilt even worse. It wasn't the best for her already not-so-great breathing, but Saki laid on her back so she had one arm around Labramon and her hand holding Floramon's.
The Kemonogami couldn't follow her to the hospital the next day, so Saki clung onto moments of this night for as long as she could before sleep stole over her.
Saki was among the first scheduled surgeries of the day. She'd been to the hospital often enough to know that the sickest kids were put first on the to-do list. Coming first meant waking up and showing up very early. Aoi arrived at the waiting room half an hour later, which was still quite early, and the sight of her almost made Saki swoon.
"Oh, Aoi, you really came!" She fought to keep her voice down so she wouldn't disturb other patients and their families.
Aoi unclasped her own hand and her face slackened with relief. "Saki, there you are! I'm so glad I ended up in the right place. I got kind of lost. My dad had dropped me off at the emergency room. That's the only place he knows where to go. Firefighters, you know."
"You're here, that's what matters."
Saki had taken for granted how well she knew the layout of the hospital by now. She'd been here so many times for checkups and physicals with the cardiologist, the pulmonologist, the pediatrician, all the -ologists and the -icians. In the hospital gown she'd been given, Saki felt exposed, vulnerable, and of course, chilled to the bone under cloth so thin she was sure she could slide it under the gap of a door.
Saki pulled the older girl into a tight hug. "Thanks for coming. I can't believe you took a day off of school just for me."
Aoi hugged her back, bringing a flood of warmth into Saki's shivering body. "Of course," she murmured. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."
Saki felt like she could simply melt into that embrace. Her chin resting on Aoi's shoulder, just an inch from her neck, she couldn't help sniffing.
"Is that…cologne?"
"Oh, yeah. From my dad. He wears it so he doesn't smell like sweat and smoke. Sorry it sticks."
"Hey, I'm not complaining."
But she did almost protest as Aoi pulled back.
"We still got some time before I have to roll back to the OR," Saki said as she led Aoi further into the pre-op area. "They need to get lab tests done on me, get my blood and pee and all that fun stuff." She looked down at her arm. "Oh, and they need an IV on me too. You're not deathly afraid of needles, are you?"
Aoi pulled a face. "I can't imagine anyone enjoying the sight and feel of them, but no, I don't mind. I've seen worse."
Of course she would know. She had been functioning as the medic of the Survivors, tending to everyone's wounds. She didn't just know her way around a stove, but around first-aid kits, too.
Saki's parents greeted Aoi and urged her to sit down beside them.
"Hey, Aoi? You ever thought about wanting to be a doctor someday?" Saki asked.
Aoi laughed. "I get that question a lot."
"Well, of course, because you're so darn smart. And you were pretty much one when we were stranded on a world full of monsters."
Aoi made a modest shrug. "That wasn't me being a doctor. I was just making do with what we had. Besides, to tell you the truth, I don't know what I want to be when I grow up."
Saki saw some of that old insecurity creep into the frown on Aoi's face, in the way she clasped and unclasped her hands in front of her waist.
"I do well in school, but for what, I'm not sure."
"You still have time to figure it out. You don't pick a field of study until college, right? I was just curious." Saki reclined in her hospital bed. "Well, whatever you end up doing, I'm sure you'll be fantastic at it. You're going to step up and lead the pack, and it won't be your first time because I've seen you do it before. You're going to be the alpha dog."
Years from now, nine thousand something kilometers from here, Aoi would be appointed chief of police for the first human-Kemonogami security corps, and she would remember Saki who helped make that possible.
A nurse came to place the IV and collect blood. Saki offered a pale, goosebumped arm. "People have a hard time getting one on my hands." She pointed near the inside of her elbow. "You'll have better luck here."
"It looks like you got the routine down," Aoi remarked.
"Oh yeah, I know the drill. This place is kind of like my second home."
But no matter how many IV sticks she had gotten before, Saki always felt her heart rate pick up and she'd look away. This time, though, with Aoi around, she mustered enough courage to watch the needle go through. It was over and done before she knew it.
Aoi glanced up from the floor, alarm widening her eyes. "Is it ok to bend your arm with the needle still in?"
"Oh, needle's out already. It's just a little straw in here now. The needle's just there to help get it in, then they slide the straw inside."
"Really? I didn't know that. I was always too scared to look."
"I was, too. Until now, anyway."
Years from now, as a pediatric anesthesiologist, Saki would stick hundreds and thousands of IVs into patients from the tiniest NICU babies to teenage athletes twice her muscle mass. By then it was simply, truly routine, but she wouldn't have gotten to that point without Aoi.
The door to her pre-op room may as well be a revolving one, with so many doctors and nurses coming in and out.
The surgeon came in with his clipboard and what Saki thought was a silly question: "What kind of surgery are we doing for you today?"
They had gone over this a few times before camp already. Maybe the surgeon's memory was all scrambled up like her mom's scrambled eggs. But for Aoi's sake, Saki said, "You're going to put a wire through a big vessel in my leg, tunnel it up to my heart, and switch out my bad valve for a shiny new one."
She could tell the surgeon grinned behind his mask. "That's right, more or less. Just want to make sure we're all on the same page for safety reasons."
He turned to Mr. and Mrs. Kimishima to discuss surgical risks and consent, pretty much everything Saki had looked into already: risk of bleeding, infection, heartbeat problems, prosthetic valve problems, stroke, heart attack, and last but not least, death.
Aoi, who was also hearing all this, looked to Saki with a little less color to her face than before. "Why would they tunnel something all the way from your leg to your heart?"
"It was either that or they do open heart surgery, split my chest in half, stop my heartbeat, and all, but my lungs are too messed up for them to do that. So the long detour it is!" Nothing like a dash of humor and looking on the bright side to lighten up the room.
The older girl shook her head, swinging her ponytail. "Seriously, Saki, you're a trooper. You don't need me in here when you're taking this in stride already."
"No, Aoi, I only feel like I can take on anything because of you." Saki wished she still had her favorite pink sweater so she could wring the cuffs. "You being here makes a big difference, more than you know."
The anesthesiologist came in next, who made her open her mouth, stick out her tongue, smile with her teeth, and move her neck side to side, up and down. Years from now she'd know exactly why she had to do this, but for now Saki thought it was one hell of a weird way to exercise her head and neck.
Then he asked, "What kind of flavor do you want for your mask, Saki? We got bubble gum, banana, strawberry, root beer, cherry…"
"I like strawberries," Saki said. She smiled at him. "I think I'll like you the best. You're going to give me the good stuff, right?"
That made him laugh. "You got it. It'll be like taking a nap. You won't remember a thing about the surgery, and before you know it, it's over and you'll wake up in recovery."
Saki gripped the rail of her bed. "How do you know I'll wake up?" Her old fear of never waking up resurfaced like nausea. "How can you be so sure?"
"That's my job. I put people to sleep, everyone knows that, but I wake them up, too."
Saki didn't know it right then and there, but in her last year of medical school, when she had to decide what kind of doctor she wanted to be, she would remember his answer and decide to be the kind to tell kids she will help them wake up. That's the best thing you could tell a kid before their surgery. She would know.
When it was time to roll back to the OR, Saki extended a hand for her dad to squeeze it.
"You got this, Sunshine."
Her mom kissed her forehead before the nurse slipped a bouffant over her hair. "See you on the other side, big girl."
Aoi grasped her hand next. For a moment, as she bit down on her lip, she looked like she struggled for words, then she squeezed Saki's hand as she said, "You're not just a Survivor. You're the first one. When this is done, if it's okay with you, I want everyone to know that."
Saki felt her throat close up and her eyes water. It's true; she'd been going through this since the day she was born. Fate had given her the kind of disease that had no cure. Death was never too far from her, sometimes just around the corner, long before the other kids ever fathomed the same could happen to them in that other world.
Saki mustered a grin for Aoi and replied, "It'd be more than okay. That would be awesome." And echoing Shuuji from the night before, she said, "Talk to you later!"
The people she loved and cared about the most were ushered to the waiting room, and Saki was wheeled away to have the operating room all to herself. She'd been unsure about the odds before, but now her head was filled with thoughts she wished she had time to say aloud. She wanted to see Aoi take on track and cheer her on. She wanted to see Aoi smile when she could truly have Labramon at her side. She'd see it all with a brand new heart valve that'd let her cheer for Aoi louder than she ever could before. People in scrubs, caps, and masks milled around her like a pit crew. Saki remained the center of calm amid the storm. Someone put a mask over her face and told her to take some deep breaths.
She knew she had asked for strawberry. It had always been her favorite smell. Today she changed her mind. She decided she liked the cologne that stuck to Aoi's shirt better, and wished that came in a flavor for her mask. That was her last thought before everything went blank.
The surgery Saki got is called transcatheter aortic valve replacement, or TAVR. It's a less invasive treatment for aortic stenosis.