Chapter Eighteen
Yume bobs her head to a song only she can hear as she locks up her apartment door. Moving down the stairs, she greets the few adults she knows as they leave for work. When she steps outside, Yume breathes in the fresh, quarter past seven in the morning, air. Then she starts her jog to the park.
There are no expectations for today. The last working day before the Showa Day holiday has pedestrians walking with a sense of excitement. Shop owners wave and greet their regulars with an extra shot of caffeine in their system to keep up constant smiles. The day is sunny, clear skies, and beautiful.
The soccer group are the only kids in the park.
Yume breathes out tension she didn't know she had and sits on a bench. The water she digs out from her bag tastes wonderful after her hard run. The girl falsely vows to start an alarm if she ever needs to get up this early again. She would never do it; rather, she would stay awake all night than set an alarm in the morning.
The kid from last week is playing forward in the makeshift soccer game. He's not easy to spot, with generic brown hair and average height making him lost in the sea of rambunctious children. In fact, the only thing that Yume can use to spot him is his shoes; the old, barely holding together, cleats.
The feeling from last week doesn't come, so Yume takes the moment to rest and compare what she remembers to what she felt when she saw Tetsuya yesterday. The first time she had the feeling was scary, but… it wasn't as suffocating as meeting Tetsuya. The cool feeling of water dripping down her spine was consistent. A first glance of the boy playing soccer was like a connection missed. It could relate to a half-hearted warning; something inside of her knows nothing will connect and not consume her if he ignites.
Meeting Tetsuya was a worry and a warning. The part of that makes her an inhabitant of this world felt oppressed, majorly so. There is something about him that is more powerful – more aware – of their missed connection. While it is still gasoline – just a liquid – Yume is more afraid of it igniting than she is of oil. Maybe that's why she left without saying anything. She doesn't want to connect with the teenager.
Yume sighs and stuffs her water bottle away, getting ready to continue to the stores past the park. She's probably overthinking it all. It might not mean anything. And, now that she won't ever get a Persona, none of it really matters. She'd be a liability in Tetsuya's circle, if she ever makes it there.
She hops off the bench just in time to see the worn-shoes kid look at her. His eyes widen from across the field, foot freezing in air, and then face plants on the ground. Yume winces because ow. She almost goes to walk away, but pauses after a step or two. Before her guilty thought can complete – is it my fault – she jerks her head back over at the yells of the teenage coaches.
"This wouldn't have happened if you had proper cleats," the teenage girl gripes, practically dragging the boy to the bench by his arm. "Sit here and I'll see if anyone has bandages."
Yume's indecision keeps her from running off. The boy hesitantly looks over his shoulder, turning it back quickly when he sees her watching. That makes up her mind.
"Hey," Yume says evenly. He tenses, shakily looking over. Yume blinks because his reddish-brown eyes aren't nearly as intense as Makoto's red ones so that makes the judging stare he turns on her not even all that intimidating. "Are you alright? You took quite the spill."
"I am fine," the boy says rather coolly, turning his head back around to face the field. His shoulders hunch and he discreetly wipes his eyes.
Yume notes that the coach is already continuing the game without coming back to check on him. She sidesteps to look at his front, and then gasps at the sudden urge of guilt – did this happen because he saw me – she feels. "You're bleeding!"
"I'm aware," the boy says, jerking slightly when she tosses her backpack down and starts digging around. He can't stop his curiosity, even though he obviously wants her to leave. "What are you doing?"
"Getting you some bandages," Yume says, heaving out her intense first aid kit. The kid's eyes widen as she hands him her open water bottle and a clean cloth. "I know it's going to sting, but try your best to clean around the cuts."
He takes the stuff robotically and she goes back to searching for bandages. "Why are you doing this?" He bites down a hiss as he puts the cloth around the bleeding road rash.
"Because you shouldn't leave them or they'll get infected," Yume shrugs and grabs the medical fabric and tape instead. She pours a healthy dose of infection/inflammation preventative on the fabric before she pauses. "Are you allergic to anything?"
"No," he frowns, inching back. "Why?"
"Just making sure you're okay to have basic medicine," Yume says, showing him the preventative's squeeze bottle. "Well, you did a good job; most of the dirt is gone. Are you alright if I put this on?"
"That's not a bandage," he inches back further.
"It's not a regular bandage," Yume corrects. "Your wound's too large, so I can tape this on and it acts like the soft part of a normal bandage."
He slowly, pointedly, inches back and holds out his leg. While she gets to work, he pokes to get her attention. Yume hums and he asks wearily, "How old are you?"
"I'm four," Yume says with a big smile. It seems to unnerve him more. "How about you?"
"I am five," the boy says softly. "I turn six this June."
"I have a friend that just turned six," Yume makes conversation as she wraps. "She's excited to start school next year. Are you?"
"Maybe," the boy says vaguely. She feels him twist as she finishes the bandages. "Do you have any parents around?"
"They're out of the country again," Yume answers, leaning back to admire her work. "My babysitter lets me run around in the mornings. Can you move it alright?"
He flinches at the bend, but the bandage doesn't limit his movement. "Yes, thank you."
"It's no problem," Yume says with a bright smiling hiding her inner guilt because if he felt what she did last week, then this may have been caused by her showing up to the park. "Um, I know this is really weird to ask, but can I get your shoe size?"
"Why?" he asks defensively, curling up on the bench.
Yume pretends she doesn't notice his obvious distrust and packs her things away. She doesn't want to talk to him longer than she has to either, but someone needs to get this kid a pair of working shoes. "I'm heading to a store to get myself a new pair of runners, and I want to get you something." She smiles as cutely as she can at him. "To make up for if I hurt you while putting the bandage and stuff on."
She can almost see his mind whirling as he slowly looks from her to his cleats. He nods and looks up at her seriously. "I'm a size ten."
A child's ten, Yume reminds herself. "Ten. Got it. I'll be back in fifteen minutes, tops!"
"I'll be here," the boy says coolly, sending a mean gaze to the children and teenagers that have seem to have forgotten about him.
"I'm Yume," the girl says softly, holding out a hand. "Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier."
His mean look falls and he hesitantly shakes her hand, like he's scared she'll trick him. A quick breath and he introduces himself. "Akechi Goro. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Yume."
"Just Yume," she tells him quickly. Then she gives him a mock salute and starts moving backwards. "Fifteen minutes! Start timing me now!"
She's got a pair of black cleats in hand by the time she really starts questioning why she's doing this. The kid obviously doesn't trust or like her, not that she can blame him; first impressions were kind of… cold. She doesn't need to spend any time worrying about those who don't like her. Been there, done that last life. She'll give him the shoes and that will be it; curiosity satisfied.
There is a look about him, though. He reminds her of her sister, before everything went bat crazy. Suspicious of alternative motives, never trusting those she didn't already trust; the boy fits at least one of two requirements. The way he moves - hesitant against her kindness or rigid when he tries to gain benefit - reminds her of when Yume first started working in the underworld. Except this boy does this to the whole world if his glares at the soccer group are any indication.
"Twelve minutes, sixteen seconds," he tells her coolly, eyeing the box in her arms with a desperate hunger.
"Un!" Yume chirps excitedly. "Best time I have!" She stops short of him and bows, sticking the box up at him. "Please except my offering!"
He snorts, and quickly tries to cover it with a cough. "The word you want is gift," he takes it with steady hands and a cool smile, "not offering."
"Gift," Yume repeats, nodding like she didn't already know. "Try them on! I'll run back and change them if they don't fit."
"Where are your shoes?" he says, following her directions.
Yume raises her eyebrows because she was not expecting him to call her out on her lie. Then again, maybe he doesn't realize she was lying. "In my bag. It was easier to run with only one box."
He looks over after he slips the first shoe on. Whatever he seems makes him believe her and he goes to slip the other one on. After tying the laces, he stands and walks a bit with them. "These… fit."
"Ee!" Yume hisses, cheering. "Glad to hear, Mr. Akechi!"
He turns to her with an indescribable emotion in his eyes. It's something between wonder and fear. Happiness and the need to run away. He struggles forming words he wants to say, and settles for a fake smile and an honest, "Thank you for the shoes, Yume."
At that moment, he reminds her of one of her last fond memories of her sister. Yume's breath almost catches in her throat, but she instead smiles and holds out her hands like she's waiting for him come closer for a hug. "Any time."
He steps forward, and then back with a shake of his head. "I should join into the game again."
Yume swallows the déjà vu, because her sister didn't hug her at that moment either. Her arms cross and Yume nods with excitement she doesn't feel. "Alright! I hope you win! Oh, and have a nice Showa Day tomorrow!"
"You too," he says, and she thinks he means it. "Good bye."
"Bye!" Yume chirps and starts walking. She risks a glance over her shoulder before she exits the park, and sees the coach frowning as Goro talks. There is a moment when she thinks about never coming back to the park Thursday morning; to never see a maybe-main character again. That would be her only reason for not coming, though. That would be her only reason for not trying to talk to the boy who's scared the world will turn on him with every gift it gives.
She can't bring herself to not think about coming back. Not coming back would be like not talking to Makoto the day her father was picking her up too late. It would be like leaving Haru in the bathroom while the older girl cried from friends suddenly becoming ex-friends. There would be no playing with Ryuji after he admitted to watching her run by every Sunday. No befriending Futaba because she's younger and quiet. No getting to know Sojiro because he is a government worker.
It would be like staring at the door to Ms. Eguchi's empty apartment, knowing she could phone the memorized number for the woman anytime.
So yes, Yume will be back next Thursday.
She's a cheater, not a quitter.
;;;
"Hi Yume, dear! How are you? Is everything alright?"
"I'm fine, Ms. Eguchi, thank you. Nothing's wrong, I just wanted to phone to see how you're doing."
"Oh, I'm fine." Light chuckles through the receiver. "I'm actually coming home tomorrow, since my son and daughter-in-law have the holiday off."
"Oh! Are you coming to Mr. Enomoto's meet-and-greet thing?"
"Yes, actually. I know a lot of his guests, so it will be nice seeing them again. There are a few about children your age. Why don't you come with me tomorrow and we can sit around the café and I'll introduce you to them."
"That sounds-" wonderful "-great! When do you want me to come?"
"We'll make it a lunch, eh? I'll pick you eleven thirty, and then we'll make our way down."
"Yeah! Thank you, Ms. Eguchi!"
Light chuckles. "See you tomorrow, Yume."
"Bye!"
;;;
"Hi Haru! Did you get home alright?"
"Yes, thank you Yume. That's not why I'm phoning, though."
"Oh? What's up?"
"My father's taking me to some tennis courts tomorrow and letting me see if I enjoy the sport!"
"Oh wow! That's amazing!"
"And he's going to stay and watch. I almost don't believe it; he's been so busy with work I didn't think he would take the holiday off."
"That's so exciting, Haru! Are you going to make it a day thing?"
"I think so. Father said we could go to dinner, just the two of us. I really want to spend the day with him."
"Make sure he knows that. And don't let him get distracted! Oh, you're going to have so much fun tomorrow!"
"I hope so. Ah, I've got to go. I'm getting tennis shoes tonight."
"Oh, have fun! I hope you find some you like. And thanks for calling to tell me!"
"Thank you for listening… I'm really glad we can talk like this."
"Anytime! Don't hesitate to call, eh? Let me know how tennis goes, and have a great Showa Day!"
Giggles come through the receiver. "Happy Greenery Day!"
;;;
Yume, curious, looks up Showa Day online. She frowns because the current information about the day clashes with something she remembers from Earth. Here, Showa Day is the unofficial name for April twenty-ninth. Officially, it's Greenery Day. Back on Earth, she remembers Showa Day and Greenery Day being two separate holidays in Japan.
Yume rubs her head and wonders just what else is different here, compared to her last life. She starts a search, picking at a few things as she goes. Mostly everything seems the same, with a distinct lack of information from nineteen-eighty-nine to the two thousands. If she had to guess, it was like the world was devoid of issues for over ten years, or there was ten years of plot to cover up.
It makes her wonder what other sorts of information aren't there. The most alarming is how medical services haven't progressed in some areas, and are more advance in others. Some disease, like the flu, can be cleared up within hours if a person pays enough. Some surgery techniques are more advanced than her previous life. Like the ones her parents apparently had done soon after she was born.
They gave her use of her legs.
Yume leans back in shock, swallowing hard. She stares at her legs, slowly moving every joint one after the other. Fully functional, and this was because of the people who abandoned her. She can't even try to hate them now, because this was the one wish always forefront in her mind when she was in a wheelchair. They granted her one wish and left, like some fairy godparents.
The girl swallows again and wipes her tears away. She starts looking into her medical file, noting down words she doesn't know and diseases that don't seem familiar. She tests negative for all genetic diseases, except she's considered a carrier for one and cured of another. Her nihilmotum crura – no mobility in legs – was cured and purged from her genetic makeup. She carries the strain for hypermobility syndrome – joints move beyond range – which seems to run on her mother's side of the family.
Yume then runs the list of diseases and conditions through a search engine. Most are the same, or extremely similar, to those of her past Earth. Others seem more magical in nature, like eyebrows changing their shade depending on mood or nails that grow like animal claws and teeth that are sharp and pointed from birth.
One illness she is very glad to not have is the hanahaki disease. Coughing up flowers because the patient is so sure their love doesn't love them back sounds like too much hurt rolled into one genetic disease package.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Any thoughts?
Thank you, Guest, for your review! Now they've just got to meet… Thank you again for reviewing, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!