08. you said farewell to me
-x-
"Rain rain go away, come again another day..."
"Your singing still sucks," you tell your mother, smiling in spite of yourself.
She chuckles and heaves a sigh, as if every word she utters and every action she takes expend her energy. Holding your mother's gaze in concern, you notice how murky her blue eyes have become, and your smile fades.
"Why don't you sing for me?" she challenges you with a faint smirk.
"What? No. It's embarrassing."
"It's only embarrassing if you're as off-key as I am."
"I'm not," you mutter, feigning indignation. For a brief moment, you entertain the idea of humoring your mother and showing her that you can, in fact, sing, but something about being in a hospital puts a lump in your throat. You've been spending so much time here that you can't smell the antiseptic anymore, and it bothers you.
Your mother tilts her head and looks at you. "When was the last time I heard you sing? It was a long time ago, wasn't it? Someone's birthday... Ahh, I remember now. You were five. You and your sister baked a cake for Papi and made a mess in the kitchen. Then one of you tripped when you were carrying the cake to the table."
"It wasn't me," you say, maybe a bit too quickly.
"That was before you two started school," your mother continues, a distant expression settling over her face. "I never heard you or your sister sing after that."
Tightening your jaw, you look away and fix your gaze on the large window in the room, at the rain water streaming down the glass. The sound is soothing, you find, with its chaotic beats that speak of protection, unlike the silent light rays from the sun, bright and blinding. Deadly.
"Rain rain go away, come again another day," your mother starts again, sounding a bit more in tune this time, but also a bit lonelier. "Little Kamui wants to play..."
"Hey!" you cry out, and your mother lets out a few soft laughs before she brings her hand to her mouth, attempting to hide the coughs. "I'm not little anymore," you manage to say while you try to ignore the light wheeze in your mother's breath. There are so many tubes connected to her hand and arm.
"No, you're not," she says lightly, wearing a faraway smile. Different emotions flicker across her face, mixing into something dreamy as she regards you and the times both behind and before you. Joy, grief, followed by disappointment and guilt. Knowing what's coming next, you shift your gaze and force your hands to remain relaxed. "You should go back to school," she tells you, her voice low and firm.
"I will," you murmur, but leave out when you will. Even though your mother deems it silly that you've treated every day for the past four months as if it's her last, you know what you're ready to do in order to spend every possible minute here in this hospital room. Outside, school has become a building where you go to waste life away, and home has reduced to an apartment where you go to escape bad weather. You liked neither. You disliked the hospital as well, but here, at least there is –
"Your sister is late today," your mother remarks, glancing out the window. "It's really pouring out there. I hope everything's okay."
"She'll be fine. You look tired."
At your words, your mother turns and smiles, sinking deeper into her propped pillow while she keeps an eye on the door.
"Do you want me to read this book to you?" you ask and pick up the new paperback on the bedside table. There is a black-and-white swirl on the cover, with the title in white block letters. The nurse taking care of your mother has been bringing new books to her every couple weeks on request, and sometimes you would read them to her until she falls asleep.
"No. It's okay," she whispers after you've flipped to the first page.
You look up and pause at the sight of your mother's crestfallen expression, your heart skipping a beat. Raindrops drum against the windowpane, and conversations hum in the hallway. Wordless, you shut the book and return it to the table, wishing time could stand still right then.
-x-
Everybody falls, and we all land somewhere.
-x-
Ten minutes later, your sister pushes open the door with her shoulder and exclaims, "Stupid truck drove right over the pothole and turned me into chicken soup. I swear I'm gonna crush the driver's balls the next time I see him. He was speeding, too! In this awful weather. Argh." After dumping a soaked backpack, a pile of wet clothes, and a dripping umbrella onto the floor, she makes her way across the room and asks, "How're you feeling, Mami?"
"You had dry clothes with you?" your mother asks.
"Yup." As indication, your sister tugs on the collar of her yellow T-shirt, a size too big for her, and pulls up another chair next to you. "How're you feeling, Mami?"
"You know you can get hot drinks from the vending machine, right? I don't want you to catch a cold. And be careful of the traffic on rainy days like this – "
"Yeah, I know. I can take care of myself. I even made my own lunch today."
"Burnt rice," you mumble under your breath and catch your sister's fist before it hits your stomach. The corner of her mouth twitches as she glares at you, and you smile in return.
"I have your homework," she suddenly announces and yanks her hand out of yours. Getting to her feet, she grabs her backpack and tosses two soggy notebooks to you while you suppress the urge to rip them apart.
"They're wet," you say stupidly and sneak a glance at your mother, who's watching the two of you with a faint, tired smile from under her blanket.
"Yes, they are. They were in the rain." Scooting her chair over to the bedside table, your sister hands you a pen and pushes aside the other items on the table. "You can still write on them, so do your homework."
"What are quadratic equations?"
Your sister gives you an exasperated look. "I know you know what those are. Stop complaining and let Mami rest."
"I'm hungry."
Your sister lets out a hiss but then cuts it off. "Yeah, I'm hungry too," she says. "Food time?"
"Food time."
"Okay, we'll be right back. Mami, you want anything?"
The two of you pause and exchange a small smile when you realize that your mother has fallen asleep. Tiptoeing into the hallway, you click the door shut behind you and head toward the cafeteria downstairs, bickering along the way.
-x-
"Will you just. Please. Stop. Using my shampoo?! You have more hair than I do! Why can't you buy your own stupid shampoo?"
"I don't have time to go shopping."
"You will if you stop hiding in the hospital all day long. The nurses might start thinking you're the patient."
"Why don't you buy it for me?"
"I'm not your nanny! Or use Papi's shampoo. A baldy like him doesn't need it anyway. And it won't make you smell like strawberry."
"Your shampoo isn't strawberry."
"Uh, yeah it is."
"Wait, it is?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Well, next time get something that's, I don't know, neutral."
"Oh no, I'm gonna get the girliest shampoo on this planet and you can't stop me. Heh." Your sister flashes you a devious grin before she pushes down the door handle with her elbow and slides into your mother's room. You follow, chewing on the meat bun and thinking of another excuse to avoid doing homework.
"I'll stop using your shampoo if I don't have to do homework," you whisper.
"Nice try. Do you know when Papi's getting here?"
Stuffing the rest of the meat bun into your mouth, you sit down on your chair and examine your greasy fingers. Then you reach over to your sister in an attempt to wipe your fingers on her sleeve, but she smacks your arm aside with an astounded and disgusted look on her face. Kicking at you, she strikes the leg of your chair when you lift your foot but gets your shin the second time. You don't feel anything; instead, you're staring at your mother's face, no longer able to see or hear the rest of the world around you.
Someone presses the nurse call button.
-x-
When you open your eyes, you're lying on a leather couch in a small lounge. The ceiling light is blazing white, and the thin blanket on you smells musty. You blink, hearing murmuring voices that sound familiar but are somehow far away. Raising your head to look over the top of the round table at the center of the room, you catch sight of your sister standing in the doorway, wiping her eyes with her wrists, and nodding at someone's words.
" – it's hard, but there's not much we can do right now. I'm sorry, Kagura. I... They need my help over there. I'll be right back, okay? I can..." His voice fades to a whisper, and you don't catch the rest of the sentence.
"Okay," your sister says, her voice choking. She sniffs and puts on her glasses while you lower your head, strangely resentful of everything that has just occurred. Everything that you can't seem to remember except for the foul taste it's left in your mouth.
"What is he doing?" you ask, and your sister spins around, alarmed.
Her eyes meet yours for an instance, and then she looks away. "Apparently there was an accident, and he's a witness. He's talking to the cops right now."
"What accident?"
"I don't know." Your sister shrugs and takes a seat by the round table, hugging herself. "You alright?"
"What?"
"I'm asking if you're okay. You..."
"I'm hungry," you reply, sitting up on the couch, and chuck the blanket to a corner. "What time is it?"
"Late," she says simply.
"You want anything?" you ask, rising to your feet.
"Not really."
Your sister is watching you with an odd look, partly worried and partly just plain weird. Biting back the comment that her puffy eyes behind her thick glasses make her look like a dumb fart, you step into the hallway that's quiet and foreign. You turn to your sister, her back facing you, but you turn away again, deciding that you can find your way around without anyone's help. You take a right.
You pass the women's bathroom, a ward, and another ward. At the first intersection, you look down the other corridor and spot two elevators at the end, but you realize, after you enter the elevator, that you're probably in a different wing than you used to be.
Why?
When the elevator doors open with a ding on the first floor, you recognize the main lobby of the hospital, and you let a nurse pushing a patient on a wheelchair pass before you pick your way across the marble floor.
"Out of my way!" you hear someone call out, and you manage to twist your body to the side before the two of you crash into each other. Dark hair. About your size. Drenched to the bone. You stare after him, miffed, hoping that he'll slip and plant pretty face first onto the shiny marble.
-x-
By the time you return to the lounge, carrying ten Big Macs in a paper bag, your sister is asleep at the table, her arms folded beneath her head. Seating yourself across from her, you pull out the boxes of burgers, pausing when a hushed conversation grows a little louder.
" – and your collective elite asses – "
"This isn't about saving our collective asses, although they are certainly elite, Sakata-san. The girl." An abrupt pause. "Is with a doctor. We can't have any more damage coming out of that. Please understand."
Another pause. Longer, this time.
"How is she?"
"Managing." A beat. "I'm sorry it was too late for your friend."
"Worry about the kid first." A softer tone.
And then you see a man with silver, permed hair walk past the door. A slightly slouched posture. A sideways glance.
Regret. And recognition.
Time has stopped since.
-x-
Notes: The book that Kamui was about to read to his mother is Spin by Robert Charles Wilson. "Everybody falls, and we all land somewhere" is the first line of that novel.