I became aware of my nausea and the world at the same time.
The sun was long gone. The dark was gathering in the east, as it does just before dawn.
I slowly untangled my fingers from my Yuki's shirt and folded the blankets back. I moved my legs out and down to sit up, and then stood and left the bed we shared behind.
Even in the dark I was sure of my footing. Ten steps to the door. Open it, and it was twenty steps to the right to get to the bathroom. That was my first stop.
When I was done, I rinsed my mouth out with the tap and continued my exploration of the Main House by Braille.
Down the hallway to the right and, at the end, a left. My fingers found thin, fragile wood and rice paper stretched thin. This was the screen door to Hatori's room. I opened it and stepped inside.
The heat hit me like a wall. I could never understand Hatori's love of heat. Yuki and I slept in the same bed without any heaters, even now, in the wintertime. Besides, humidity hurt Yuki's chest or whatever was wrong with him.
The heat was making it hard to think. I moved into the adjoining room and found the bed, but all I had the engery to do was climb into it. If I snuggled with him long enough, he would be warm and turn off that oppressive heater.
Yes. My logic was flawless.
I closed my eyes.
I woke up on an examination table with a paper-thin gown on. I sat up, decided that I didn't want to, and lay back to let the waves of nausea and vertigo pass me by.
Above me, Hatori said, "You had another attack." He paused, and I swallowed air to keep from experiencing my dinner a third time. He scolded, "Breathe normally."
I breathed normally, put out my right hand, and vomitted into the bucket he handed me. When I was finished, he took the bucket away and wiped my mouth. A minty salve was smeared beneath my nose. Apparently, taste was tied to smell, and I would throw up again if I tried to eat anything so the mint helped ease the sour taste.
He said, "The attacks are becoming more frequent."
"They're always becoming more frequent," I gasped. "It's too hot in here."
He lifted me and sat me in a chair facing an open door that was letting in a snowy breeze. I ignored the vertigo, and the nausea became lost as the mint dissolved my sinuses.
Hatori moved to stand before his heater, pulling his coat closed. I said, "You look as though you're trying to melt."
"There is an open door and snow outside, Akito. The heater is justified."
"I would have expected you and snow to get along just fine."
He ignored me. "It's noon. Yuki should be at lunch, and lessons are next."
"No lessons for me," I said with certainty. It was always at least an hour after an injection before I could walk, let alone think in numbers. "My Yuki always comes to check on me when I'm ill. Why isn't he here?"
"I told the maids that you were here. They wouldn't have told him, and he wouldn't have asked."
That was true. Yuki's timid anxiety was one of the cutest things about him, as long as he wasn't worrying about that constant, annoying cough. I said, "Then... don't tell him. He'll have to ask eventually."
Hatori said, "Yes, Akito." He closed the door and, in compensation, turned off the heater.
I couldn't feel my skin enough to care. "He can't function without me, you know."
"Yes, Akito. I know."
I nodded, and settled down in my chair to wait.
After I tried and failed to eat a midafternoon meal, I decided that enough time had passed and Yuki should have asked about me by now. I went to check on him, peeking in through a crack in the door only a few centimeters wide.
He was in the playroom where we usually spent our mornings, on my good days. There was a hard binder on his lap, and he was writing on the piece of paper on top of it. Probably doing the homework from the lesson. Later, if I felt generous, I would allow him to do mine, as well. He needed extra practice, to do his very best. And he learned by teaching others, something that I had never understood.
But now he was just sitting there. He wasn't worried. He didn't blink, he was so focused.
I felt the familiar flame of anger. My Yuki didn't care. My Yuki didn't care whether I was with him or not.
He cared more about that stupid piece of homework than he did about me!
What if I was dead, would he care then? He wouldn't even know, because he wouldn't ask anyone where I had gone.
If my Yuki didn't notice when I died, then who would? Hatori, maybe, because he would be the one doing the autopsy.
I imagined his scribbled doctor writing. Cause of Death: Ceased to Exist.
Here Lies Akito, We Barely Cared.
And he wasn't even worried after I had disappeared all day!
I watched as he set his pencil down and looked out the window. I watched as he slowly pressed his face into his hands.
This was my Yuki. My Yuki didn't show emotions, and I knew that. This display meant that he was practically tearing apart...
I felt a surge of forgiveness in me and walked through the door.
He looked up with wide eyes and stared at me as though I were a ghost.
"Akito-san!" he gasped, and the binder and paper slipped off his knees and hit the ground.
"My Yuki," I greeted him, and began to walk over. It was a slowly journey, because my joints were becoming achy and I had to pick my way through the toys on the ground.
He was crying. I didn't realize it until I got closer, but tears were streaming down his face and he was a lost little boy. He whimpered, "Akito-san, where were you? All this time..."
I wrapped my arms around him and held him, feeling the shaking as he began to sob.
"All this time, and I hoped that you would show up like you always do, or Hatori-san would come get me to see you if you were ill, or the aunties would say something..."
"I'm here, my Yuki. Don't cry," I soothed.
But I didn't mean it. Every tear he cried was another day that I would be remembered after I died. I wanted him to keep crying forever.
But he is my Yuki. I do have forever with him.
And I am glad.