heroes and thieves
chapter seven - fools like me (part I)
one month later
Yui looks at her phone, her bottom lip curled up into her mouth and secured there by her teeth.
Come here.
She's read this two word text message at least a hundred times since it arrived an hour before. It's not attached to a name in her phone, but she knows who it's from. His number never changed, after all, even if hers did.
She wonders, briefly, how he got her contact information. From Kiyotaka, most likely. But she can't imagine Ayumu outright asking his brother for the phone number of his former contract employee. Still, that isn't important. The important thing is...
Come here.
It's barely seven in the morning; the chirp of her phone had woken her. She lies on her futon, the blankets messy around her, and doesn't know what to do.
She's kept her distance from the hospital since her last visit. Kiyotaka has updated her on Ayumu's condition, sending her a brief text message every few days. The news had been grim, at first… but then, gradually, his messages had grown longer, more detailed - more positive. And the last one, sent the evening before, had nearly driven her to tears.
He's responding well to physical therapy, and his overall health has improved significantly.
He's asking for you.
She sighs deeply, staring at her phone, and thinks back to the previous month. The only thing that had mattered to her was his happiness. And that's all that should matter to her now. Yet she can't deny that she wants to see him, even if only for a moment, and for entirely selfish reasons.
Well, she thinks, it really doesn't matter what the reason is. Because she's never ignored an order from him before, and she's not about to start now.
The hospital's visiting hours start at nine in the morning, and Yui is in the elevator at 8:59 sharp. She cradles a small bouquet of imported tulips in the crook of one arm, and she glances at them as she rides to Ayumu's floor, wondering if she should have gone with the irises instead. She knows they're cliche by now, but they had looked so fresh and vibrant, and they'd been just a little less expensive than the tulips - Oh, but it doesn't really matter, she thinks, shaking her head. She's nervous and she knows it, and no amount of debating the right choice in flowers will alleviate the stress.
She's halfway down the hall when she hears something - the faint strains of music - and stops in her tracks. Her eyes open wide and she notices a small crowd around a particular door, his door, a crowd made up of patients and nurses and even a physician in a long white coat. She collects herself and picks up her pace, and when she arrives to join the crowd it's just in time to see an elderly man with a walker heave a contented sigh. "No one plays Beethoven quite like Ayumu-kun," he remarks.
"It's beautiful," one of the nurses murmurs, a clipboard clutched to her chest. "I haven't heard this kind of music in so long."
"His recovery is going well," the physician chimes in; then, noticing Yui standing at the back of the small group, smiles widely. "Ah, and it seems he has a visitor. Have visiting hours started already?"
"Yes," she answers, returning his smile, "and Narumi-san is expecting me, so - "
The piano suddenly stops. The group seems to collectively hold their breath, and there's a long pause before a voice can be heard, faintly, from within the room: "The show is over for today."
Glances are exchanged, but Ayumu's audience dissipates without a word, and one of the nurses gives Yui a smile and a nod before she starts down the hallway in the direction of her station. Once the crowd has gone, the blonde-haired woman clears her throat and steps forward to knock, twice, on the door.
She hears his voice again, faint but sure, and her heart skips at least one beat. "Come in."
And she does, without introducing herself, and as the door slides open the piano starts up again. She almost stumbles as she enters, closing the door quickly behind her, as if this music is for her alone, is a secret only she is allowed to share with him. Her eyes adjust to the light and she sees him sitting up on the edge of his bed, facing his piano, covered in sunshine that pours in through the open windows. He is dressed in a shirt and pants instead of a hospital gown, a portion of his arm is wrapped in a cast -
And he is using his left hand to play the piano.
She stands there in the doorway and listens, just listens, her heart beating so loud and fast that it threatens to drown out the music. She doesn't recognize the piece, but that doesn't make it any less beautiful. It's a long few minutes before the chords and notes finally slip away, his room filling with silence, and he sits still at the piano for a moment before she hears him clear his throat. "You came."
"How did you know - " She starts, but stops herself; it's really pointless to ask, because he's always had excellent hearing and not even the degeneration of his body could change that. "... yes, Narumi-san," she says instead, "I did."
"Ah." He looks over his shoulder. "Good. You brought flowers. My brother's been trying to put nothing but irises in that vase of yours. I keep throwing them away, but I don't think he's getting the point."
Yui smiles, and as she moves to unwrap the bouquet of tulips and slide them into the waiting vase on his bedside table, she silently congratulates herself on finally making a good decision. When she's finished and the cellophane wrapping has been thrown away, she turns to see him shifting in his bed, a low grunt escaping his lips as he slides away from the piano and leans back on the raised portion, his head settling into a pillow. "Well," he starts, and nods slightly at the empty chair waiting by his bed, "are you going to sit?"
"If… if that's okay…"
"Of course it is. I wouldn't have told you to come if it wasn't. Stupid girl." He grins as he delivers the last two words, and she isn't sure whether to smile or laugh or cry or do all three, so in the meantime she sinks into the chair and folds her hands tight together in her lap. He watches her closely, even with his head on the pillow, and doesn't waste any time before he starts to speak. "I owe you an apology."
She blinks, starts forward in her chair, and opens her mouth immediately to protest. "Narumi-san, I - "
"No." He holds up a hand - his left hand. "Stop. I don't need to save face." He exhales loudly before he lifts his upper body off of the bed, allowing his hand to settle back down on the mattress as he moves into a sitting position. "I'm sorry. I was cruel to you. And you did nothing to deserve that kind of treatment."
She closes her mouth, presses her lips together, and nods. Not because she agrees, but because she knows full well that he wants her to accept his apology.
"Good. Now." He looks to the open windows on the other end of his room, to the bright blue sky and white clouds drifting lazily by. "That's not the only reason I asked you to come here. You don't have to listen. If you want to get up and leave, I won't stop you. But you said your piece, and now I'd like to say mine."
"I'll listen." She inches forward on her seat. "To whatever it is you have to say. I won't leave."
"Alright." He draws in a breath and holds it; when it's released, it's in time with his head turning back, his eyes fixing on hers. "Do you remember what I told you before you left, two years ago?"
She remembers all of it, every word, but she thinks confessing that would sound strange and perhaps a little desperate. "Which part, Narumi-san?" she asks instead.
"Well, I said something about not wanting to make you cry. I don't remember how it went, exactly, but that was important to me. I didn't want you to be sad about doing the job for my brother, or leaving for your next task. I held my head high so you would be proud." He chuckles. "For some reason, I was concerned about your well-being. I thought you would start sobbing the second I walked away to go to the train station."
Yui tries very, very hard not to fidget, or clear her throat, or do anything else that might indicate his being absolutely, positively correct. She remembers full well what a mess she had been. "Is that so?" she asks.
"Ah. And even now, I'm worried about doing anything to upset you. So the way I acted, the last few times you were here…" He draws his eyebrows together. "Somehow, I didn't realize how much my negative thinking was impacting you. But it did impact you, didn't it?"
"... yes," she confesses, lowering her head. "I was… a little upset."
"Is that why you stayed away from me?"
"I thought that… that was what you wanted." She swallows. "Since you said something about me… going away and never coming back… it seemed like that was the kind of thing you wanted, so that you would be able to make the decision to live."
"Hm." There's a short pause; she hears him shift in his bed with another low grunt. "That's what it sounded like to you?"
"Yes. But if I was wrong, I - "
"You shouldn't even think about blaming yourself. If that's how it sounded to you, that's probably how I said it." He sighs. "Truthfully, I've spent the last few months in some kind of downward spiral. I wasn't talking to anyone about it, but it seems as if a few people noticed. That's why I was so harsh when you were here. I had allowed negative thinking to completely take over my mind."
She glances up, watching him extend one arm to run his fingers over the ivory keys of his piano, and she catches a glimpse of a silver hoop in his left ear. "When I was first admitted," he says, "I did everything in my power to stay positive. I knew that the Blade Children were watching me closely, and that their well-being depended on my fight. So I fought as hard as I could against my condition. And as a result, it seems many of them - at least the ones we know, Rutherford and the others - have made it past their twentieth birthdays."
"That's wonderful, Narumi-san."
"Ah. It is." He nods. "But after that… I started to feel lonely. They stopped visiting me as often. Rutherford is off touring, and it sounds like Asazuki and Takamachi are doing well in their classes. Aniki and neesan have made up, too. So as everyone else was able to make a new life for themselves, I was left to wither away in my bed. I wasn't even able to see Hizumi before he passed away - although that was his choice, not mine." He pauses again, pressing one key on the piano, a low, long note echoing in the room. "I started to question whether or not life was worth living. If there was any purpose to my struggle. Somehow, I never once considered making the decision to live for my own sake. I didn't know that I could."
Yui glances at the tulips in the nearby vase. "So… that is why you acted the way you did, the last time I was here?"
"Yes. I had grown so tired of fighting by then, and I didn't think I had any reason to keep going." He turns his head to look at her again. "But something you said, about wanting me to live… about doing anything in your power to help me… it made me realize how selfish I had been. How I'd blindly made the decision to give up without considering just how hard everyone had been fighting for me. Even while I was lonely, everyone was working to research a cure for my condition, trying to find a way to improve my quality of life. Including you."
"Yes," she agrees, softly, "including me."
"After the last time you were here, my brother came in and yelled at me. He told me how upset you had been. And he told me everything about your role in all this, instead of just the pieces I had asked about before." He smiles slightly. "Part of me had been stubbornly insisting that you must have been acting the whole time you played the role of Yuizaki Hiyono, but he told me that your directions had been minimal at best. So it seems the "stupid girl" I spent so much time with was more real than I thought."
"Narumi-san, I - "
"You weren't acting," he interrupts, and she senses how important this question is, how much it means to him, "were you? When you were with me - was that the real you I was depending on? Were you encouraging me because you were told to, or was it because you truly believed in me?"
She shuts her mouth, then opens it again. "I was never acting," she responds, with a slight shake of her head. "I promise. And when I told you I believed in you… it was because I really did believe in you. It was all true. The only thing that was different was my name."
"I never acted, either." He doesn't look away. "Even after I figured it out."
"I..." she starts, but she doesn't know what to say. "Narumi-san..."
"My brother counted on me relying on you. He even counted on me having feelings for you. Whether you realized it at the beginning or not, his plan was to use you to break me. And he failed." His voice grows softer. "I've had more than two years to think about this. For most of that time, I was convinced that he failed because I was stronger - more logical - than he was. And I tried to tell myself that it was because I didn't care about you at all - because you weren't real to me, in the end. But the truth I've been running from, all this time, is that you were always real to me."
She feels the twinge of something hot behind her eyes and instantly knows she's going to cry unless he stops. "Na - Narumi-san, I..."
"Don't," he chides her, gently, with a shake of his own head. "I did rely on you. And I still want to. If you still want to be by my side... who am I to tell you no?" He smiles. "And if that's the reason I can find to keep on living… because I don't want to make the person who supported me and believed in me sad… then that's the reason I will hold on to. It's better than any other one I could find."
She immediately begins to cry. She can't help it. They're tears of relief, of happiness, tears that she's been holding back since the last day she lived as Yuizaki Hiyono, and she covers her eyes with her hands and chokes back her sobs so they aren't so loud. Ayumu doesn't say anything, but she hears him shift on his bed, and after a minute there's the gentle press of a hand on one of her shoulders. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "If I said something wrong…"
"No," she chokes out, and almost laughs at the absurdity of him thinking that, "no, I'm… I'm relieved… I'm sorry, I - " She hiccups, wiping at her eyes. "I can't stop…"
"I made you cry after all."
"It's not a bad thing…" She lifts her head, and this time she does manage to laugh, if only because she wants to show him that it's okay, that she's going to be fine. He's sitting on the edge of his bed, facing her, his knees on either side of where her legs are pressed tightly together, and all she can think for a moment is how much healthier he looks. "I'm fine," she insists, and forces a smile, wiping at her eyes again as the tears begin to slow. "I needed to cry a little…"
"Hm. I understand." He releases a sigh, almost as if he's relieved, too, and squeezes her shoulder lightly before lifting his hand. It's a surprisingly affectionate action, and that on its own is almost enough to stop the steady flow of tears. "I cried, too. Two weeks ago."
"Why…?"
"Because I realized I'd managed to chase you away." One corner of his mouth turns up. "It's just like me to scare off the one person who really cares about me. You were willing to go anywhere my brother asked if it meant you could save my life, and all I did was yell at you for making that decision without consulting me. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't be able to move my left hand right now."
"Oh… your hand…" She reaches out carefully, pressing the tips of her fingers to the top of his left hand, trying to ignore the way her movements are unsteady and unsure. "Is it... is it... okay?"
"I've been regaining functionality." He gestures to the cast on his left arm, thin and clean white, stopping just below his elbow. "The surgeon says he expected my hand and upper shoulder to partially recover, but not to be usable. I've exceeded that expectation."
"Can you... feel with it?"
"Ah. The nerves have been repaired enough that I've recovered some sensation, too."
"A - and you were really... playing the piano with it?"
"I was. Although my wrist is sore from physical therapy. Chords are too difficult." He frowns slightly - then, all at once, his face brightens and he laughs. "I probably shouldn't be complaining. A few weeks ago, I couldn't even feel the entirety of my left arm."
"That's wonderful, Narumi-san..." She smiles, drawing her hand away. "You seem... so much happier..."
He looks at her, one eyebrow raised. "Are you going to cry again?"
"Yes," she answers, and tears well up in her eyes. "I'm so… I'm happy, for you…"
"Knock it off." He shakes his head, exhaling loudly. "You're going to make me feel like a jerk for making you cry twice in one day."
She reaches up to wipe at her eyes again, sniffing, and tries to smile. "You are a little bit of a jerk."
"I suppose I am. You liked to call me mean, back then." He grins, leaning forward, propping his chin up in one hand. "Do you still think I'm mean, now that I've called you here to pour my heart out to you? I'm very vulnerable right now. You could probably make me cry in just a few words."
"Could I?" Smiling is getting easier, and she giggles softly, sniffing again. "So if I told you something like… "no, Narumi-san, I don't accept your apology, and I think you're mean," you'd be upset enough to cry?"
"Hmm. That's harsh. But I'd only frown."
"So something more like… "you are the meanest person I have ever met, and…" um…" She stops, trying to think of something more to add to this line, and comes up short. "I can't really think of anything…"
"Really? That's the best you can do?" He snorts. "You really aren't a very mean person, are you? I could think of a hundred hurtful things to say to make you cry, and you can't even come up with one?"
"I - I don't usually sit around trying to think of mean things to say to people!"
"I can tell."
"That should be one of my good qualities, you know!" She folds her arms tightly together, pouting. "One of many good qualities I have."
"Hm. That's actually the only one I know of."
She gasps. "Narumi-san!"
He throws his head back and laughs, loudly, and the sound sends a shiver down her spine and a flush into her cheeks. He grins when his eyes meet hers again, and she knows, knows for certain, that something really has changed within him - that she's seeing not only the Narumi Ayumu from two years ago, the one full of wit and logic and too much deep thought for his own good, but also bits and pieces of a brand new Ayumu, one who can laugh and smile and banter with her as he fights for his life, for the right to keep moving ahead in this world -
Oh, and it is good, so good, to hear him laugh. And she knows now just how much she loves that sound.
How much she loves him.
She might as well admit it, she thinks, absently rubbing at one of her flushed cheeks, because it isn't going to go away. He's all but confessed to having feelings for her, so what's the use of trying to pretend that she doesn't have any for him? After all, she did go to Europe for him, learned about gene therapy for him, worked for Kiyotaka for him. Everything was for him, out of love for him, out of a desire to one day stand by his side and be accepted for who she was - is - and to be a part of his life. That's what she wants, isn't it?
That is what she wants. Him. And nothing else.
"We have some catching up to do," he says, and pats the place beside him on his bed with one hand. "Come up here. This is more comfortable."
"A - are you sure, Narumi-san?"
"Yes. I'm sure. Now hurry up and tell me about Germany before I kick you out of my room again." He grins a grin that she is very much beginning to love, and as she rises to take her place beside him on his bed, she hopes that this day, this change in him, is the beginning of something wonderful.
