Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.
Chapter Three: Grief
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"So I was thinking," Matt said, striking a match. "We should try that restaurant in the brochure tonight. You know, the one right out on the beach?"
Mimi wasn't listening. She watched as Matt lit three candles and swallowed hard against the lump forming in her throat.
She couldn't escape Sora. Lately, she couldn't go anywhere or do anything without a memory of her best friend blindsiding her. Despite what most people thought, Mimi was not bothered when someone accidentally said Sora's name around her or when she ran into Mrs. Takenouchi at the mall. What hurt Mimi most were the random things, triggering memories she had forgotten until suddenly there they were, cropping up in her mind's eye: hopscotch, karaoke, fireworks, grapefruit.
No matter how badly Mimi's head hurt, she couldn't take Tylenol or any other pill. She hated going to hospitals. She couldn't go to the right wing of the Odaiba shopping mall, where the photo booth was. Opening her wallet and seeing that picture – the one of her and Sora that she'd kept for nearly a decade – got to be so difficult that she wound up taking it out a few weeks after the funeral.
She couldn't be alone in her bedroom with the door locked. If she looked at her watch and it said ten o'clock, she had to remind herself to breathe. She gave all of her bunny stuffed animals to her baby cousin. The first time Sora's birthday had come around, Mimi imagined how she would've wanted to spend it and took Kari out instead. But it hadn't been the same, and Kari was a great girl but she would never be Sora, so Mimi spent every birthday since then alone at the cemetery.
Mimi stared unblinkingly at the candle. Matt was trying to get her attention, but she was lost. She got that familiar choke of panic and remembered —
Mimi wakes up to the radio and hears the weather report for Sunday, August seventh. Sunny, the voice says, warm. Get out your suntan lotion and hit the beach. Mimi smiles. She and Sora made up two nights ago, and when Mimi called her yesterday, she was pleasant and seemed like her old self. She said she had a lot of stuff to take care of yesterday, so Mimi told her they'd get together today, the seventh, instead. She is positive that the winds of change are upon them – their amends is only the beginning, and good things are still to come. Tai will wake up soon and everything will be okay. Mimi can feel it.
She showers and when it is time to get dressed, she picks out a nice outfit that she has just purchased and hasn't worn yet. She grabs a light breakfast. She checks the clock and makes a mental note to call Sora in an hour. In the mean time, she begins to map out the day in her head. They'll go to lunch at their favourite restaurant, get some shopping done, maybe catch a movie. Perhaps they'll go to the beach, or instead just stay poolside in Sora's backyard.
Mimi goes into her room and begins to flat iron her hair. The phone in her room, the private line that nobody else in the house has access to, is ringing. She sets the iron down on her vanity dresser and answers the call.
Hey, she says, sure that it's Sora.
The voice on the other line is unfamiliar and hesitant. Is this Mimi Tachikawa?
The phone is cold against her sweaty palm. Something turns in her stomach. And she has never felt like this before.
Yes. Who is this? she grinds out. Why can't she speak?
Is this a good time to talk? the unfamiliar woman asks. I'm calling on the behalf of Toshiko Takenouchi.
Sora's mom. What's going on?
What is this about? Mimi asks.
A part of her mind realizes that the only reason Mrs. Takenouchi would have a friend call her, and why that friend would sound so distraught, is because something has happened to Sora. But there is another, larger, more insistent part of her mind that refuses to even consider this. And so she is unprepared for the way this conversation will go.
I'm afraid –
There is a sharp knock at Mimi's bedroom door.
Sorry, can you hold on for a second? she asks. She sits the phone down without waiting for an answer. She goes to the door, her hand wrapping around the cool metal doorknob and pausing there for a moment. Her heart is racing and she doesn't understand why.
The door opens and Matt is there, looking as though he hasn't slept in a week. His head is down and his clothes seem to hang off him in a different way. His shoulders are sagged and he looks … defeated.
Matt, she says, hoping she's got this all wrong. What are you doing here?
You – haven't you heard? he says, his eyes meeting hers for the first time. Her eyes sting with unshed tears and she doesn't know why, but it must be something awful because she has never seen Matt look like this and cannot imagine what could do this to him.
No. What –?
It's Tai, he says simply, and Mimi knows what that means. Tai is dead.
When?
Last night.
An awful sobbing sound cuts through the silence, and she doesn't even register that it is coming from her. She doesn't know how to react to this. She rarely allowed herself to imagine a scenario in which Tai was dead, and when she did, she had only considered it in practical terms. What she would say to Sora and Matt and Kari; what she would wear to the funeral; what kind of flowers she would bring to his grave. She hadn't allowed herself to consider the devastation this would bring her, the complete emptiness settling deep down in the pit of her stomach.
She puts her arms around Matt and he grips her tightly, burying his face in her neck and whimpering in a way he will never admit to later. Tai was his best friend, and Mimi knows that he must be so destroyed. If she ever lost her best friend, she'd probably never recover. Tai wasn't her best friend, but he was one of the closest friends she will ever have. He was one of the best people she will probably ever meet. Mimi loved him as if he were her brother. He had been in rough shape but could he really be dead? And is she honestly already thinking about him in past tense?
There's nothing she can say. What does she tell Matt? She can't say she's sorry. That doesn't feel right. Sorry doesn't even begin to describe what she feels.
She will never get to hear Tai tell one of his jokes again. Or watch him play soccer and act unbearable cocky when he annihilates Matt. She'll never get to hang out with him or go on double dates with him and Sora. They haven't really done any of those things lately, but there was always the chance that they could again, someday. And now, there is no someday.
Really? He's really dead?
Her heart is beating at an alarming rate now and even with Matt in her arms, all she can think is: Sora.
Her mother is still on the phone. Is this what she's calling about? Did Mrs. Kamiya call Sora, tell her what happened, and now Sora's gone off the deep end and her mother needs Mimi to come help?
She knows that's not it. She can feel it in her bones, just as she could growing up when something was wrong with Sora.
Sora's m-mom is on the phone, Mimi whispers to Matt. Hold on for a second. Her vision is blurred and she doesn't think she'd be able to do it under any other circumstance, but she lets go of Matt and goes back to her phone. I'm here, she says. Mimi hopes it doesn't sound like she is crying, even though she is.
Mrs. Takenouchi would like to speak to you. I'm putting her on, the voice says.
Mimi? It doesn't sound like Sora's mom. Not really.
Mrs. Takenouchi? Are you okay? Mimi asks. She knew that Mrs. Takenouchi had been close with Tai, had loved him like a son. But something else is going on here, something Mimi doesn't know about and isn't sure she wants to know about. Is this about T-Tai?
It's about Sora, Mrs Takenouchi says, and she's crying so fiercely that Mimi suddenly knows what this means. Somewhere inside, she knows. She's known since she woke up. But the part of her that knows and the part of her that realizes what she knows are two separate things, and the connection can't be made. Not if it's about Sora, her best friend in the world, the girl who has been by her side since they were three.
What is it? Mimi asks, because nothing is real until she hears it from the mouth of Sora's mother.
Sora's gone.
Mimi understands what that means. She understands that saying someone is gone, that someone has passed away, is really just a better way of saying that they will never laugh or cry or breathe or love again.
But the word gone can't apply to Sora. Tai is gone because he was sick and injured. Sora is neither of those things. Sora has nothing wrong with her, and so she can't be gone.
What? Mimi says blankly. She can hear Mrs. Takenouchi sobbing on the other end, and then there is a rustling noise as the phone is transferred to someone else.
I'm afraid, the stranger says gently, that Sora is no longer with us.
No, she says. That's – you're wrong.
Mimi –
Don't say my name, she snaps. Don't call me saying ridiculous, untrue shit. Don't say my name as if you're telling the truth and I'm acting irrational.
She passed away last night, Mimi.
You're lying, Mimi hears herself say, but it doesn't really sound like her voice. You're a liar. You're a sick fuck, and if I ever find out who you are …
This isn't true. It can't be. Her best friend isn't dead. She talked to Sora yesterday. She has talked to Sora practically every fucking day of her entire life, and this kind of thing doesn't happen to friends like them. To people like them. People don't just call their friends one day and make plans and then turn up dead the next.
Dear, I know that you must be –
You don't know anything! she screams.
She – she seems to have taken her own life.
Sora took her own life? This person is crazy. Sora wouldn't do that … couldn't do that.
You've got the wrong girl, Mimi says stubbornly. She doesn't care that Mrs. Takenouchi was just on the phone, trying to tell her this herself. She doesn't care that she only knows one Sora – her best friend, the girl she's known since her first day of school and has shared everything with – and that there couldn't really be any mistake. She wouldn't do this. I'm her best friend and I know her and I know that she would never do this.
There's only one way she can know. There's only one way she can be sure.
Put Mrs. Takenouchi back on the line! Her hand is shaking so fiercely that she has to use both to keep it steady, and her palms are so sweaty that it's practically sliding out of her grip. I want to speak to her! I need to hear it from her!
Matt stands up and looks anxiously at Mimi.
I'm so sorry for your loss, the voice says.
Shut up and give her the phone!
Mimi, Mrs. Takenouchi says weakly. Mimi can barely hear her.
It's not true, Mimi says, but she can feel tears dripping down her face and she knows that it is, that it has to be. It's not true. Sora isn't dead. She didn't – she did not kill herself. It's not true.
Matt looks taken aback and comes over to Mimi. He's mouthing something, asking a million questions at once, but she turns away. She can't look at him. He doesn't even exist. The only person in the world who exists is Sora's mother, the one with the answers. Mimi can't breathe. Sora isn't dead. She's at her house, getting ready right now. Because she and Mimi have places to go and things to do today.
Tell me it's not true, Mimi begs, and she has never wanted anything more in her entire life.
Mrs. Takenouchi takes a deep, shaky breath. She – she took p-pills and –
Mimi will never know how the rest of Mrs. Takenouchi's sentence goes, because that is the moment everything stops. She can't live without Sora. Not when their lives have been so closely intertwined for so long. Sora's chapter is over, but what the fuck is Mimi going to do? Didn't Sora stop and think about that? Didn't she care? Mimi was her best friend! You didn't die and leave your best friend alone to face the world. You were supposed to stick it out together. You were a team. You were supposed to be, anyway.
She slides to the floor, the phone still in her hand. The cord tugs and the phone rips out of her wall and smashes on the floor.
Sora is dead. Sora is dead. Sora is dead. Sora is dead. Sora is dead.
It repeats in her mind over and over and over. In her head, Mimi can only see her. Mimi's tears will only fall for her. Mimi's heart can only ache for her. Mimi's wounds can only bleed for her.
(Sora is dead.)
Mimi will never see her again.
Sora will never smile. She'll never laugh or cry or talk or complain or scream or sing.
(Sora is dead.)
Mimi will never again spend hot summer days in her pool. Sora will never come over for a movie night, like they used to have every weekend when they were young.
(Sora is dead.)
Her flat iron is still on her dresser, up against a pile of papers and a magazine. It catches on fire and the flickering flame is orange and bright, just like Sora's hair used to be. It's alive, just like Sora used to be. Mimi doesn't move.
(Sora is dead.)
Matt takes care of the fire. Or perhaps Mimi's mother does. Or maybe the entire Odaiba fire department comes into her bedroom to put it out. She doesn't know. She doesn't care.
There is no tomorrow. There is no yesterday.
(Sora is dead.)
There is just this moment – this moment that seems to hang and stretch for an eternity – and there is just this pain – this pain that will not fade or ease up, no matter how many years Mimi waits.
(Sora is dead.) —
"Mimi?" Matt called, his voice finally cutting through her thoughts.
Her eyes were starting to water, so she looked away from him. "Huh? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," she said, smiling unconvincingly.
"No problem," he said stiffly, knowing better than to say anything else. They'd already had one fight since their honeymoon began, and the hurt feelings still weren't entirely gone. He didn't want to get into it again now. "Are you hungry? We can go check out that restaurant in the brochure … or we can get room service if you want."
"No. I don't feel like eating right now."
She went into the bathroom to collect herself. When she came out, the candles were gone.
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Something wet and cold touched Kari's face. She wiggled away from it and opened her eyes. Meeko, her cat, was standing on her chest looking very amused. Kari looked up and saw the ceiling of her parents' living room. She questioned why she was flat on her back at the bottom of her stairs with a throbbing head, and remembered her fall.
There was always one spot in the house that Meeko had marked as her territory. In Kari's old house, it had been on top of the refrigerator. This had been fine with Kari, as she had no particularly need for that space. However, when the Kamiyas moved into their current house, Meeko's new spot had become the third step from the top of their staircase. This was surely inconvenient, but Kari had never once forgotten this and tripped in a last minute attempt to not crush her pet.
Today, Kari forgot.
Perhaps it was because she hadn't been home in so long – schoolwork had really piled up lately and she wasn't able to make it home as frequently as in past years – but for whatever reason, she was completely out of routine and came dangerously close to crushing Meeko. Instead, Kari threw herself forward and the change in momentum resulted in her tumbling down all remaining thirteen steps.
She must've passed out. Moving Meeko off of her chest, she went to sit up and winced; a pain shot all the way up her leg. Her right ankle was twisted at an odd angle and she could hardly bear to move it. Her parents were both at work, so it was just her and that stupid fucking cat in the house. Gritting her teeth and grasping for the banister, she got to her feet and slowly hobbled over to the phone. She dialed the only number she could think of.
"Hello?"
"T.K.," she said pathetically, "I need your help."
"What?" he said, his voice suddenly taking on an urgent tone. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"I fell down," she whined. He laughed. That bastard laughed. "It's not funny."
"It is," he argued. She sighed. "Did you call just to tell me that?"
"No. I need you to take me to the emergency room! I think I broke my ankle."
"Really? Oh, okay, hold on. I'll be right over."
"Thank you."
Kari hung up and hopped over to a chair. She sat down and looked at her ankle. It looked swollen and purple and she thought she could see part of her bone poking against her skin. She pressed her finger against the small bump and inhaled sharply. It hurt a lot. She had been exaggerated when she told T.K. that she thought it was broken, but maybe it was.
T.K. showed up at her door ten minutes later and helped her into the backseat, where she stretched out her leg and whined about the pain as he drove to the hospital. They went into the emergency room (he walked and she hopped on her left foot because he wouldn't carry her) and waited. After a half hour, someone pushed Kari down into a wheelchair and wheeled her off to the x-ray room, which was on the third floor. They passed by Tai's old room —
Kari sighs. She has read this magazine twice already and this chair is uncomfortable. She is hungry and thirsty and bored out of her mind. This is not how she wants to spend her Saturday night.
That's a cute outfit, her mother says, pointing to a page in the magazine she is reading. Kari fights the urge to roll her eyes. Is her mother really making small talk?
Kari is supposed to be sitting on a bus with her friends, on my way to her uncle's hotel. She is supposed to be enjoying the final month of her summer. Instead, she is sitting in the hospital with her comatose brother, making small talk with her mother.
The monitor beeps loudly and she jumps in her seat.
What the –?
It doesn't stop beeping. It isn't the normal beeping, either. It is one continuous sound.
A flat line.
The doctor rushes in, followed by a few nurses. Kari's mother is on her feet now, but Kari is still sitting in her chair. What's going on? Why are the machines making that sound? Doesn't that usually mean –?
We have to ask you to leave, one of the nurses says to Kari's mother. But really, if anyone deserves to be here with Tai when he leaves this world, shouldn't it be the one person who brought him into it?
No! What's wrong with my son?
Please. We can't work with you and your daughter in here.
Mom? What's happening? Kari asks, even though she knows. It would take an idiot to not understand this. Her mother shakes her head. There are tears streaming down her cheeks. Kari's father rushes in. The beeping is getting louder and louder. Soon, it's all Kari is aware of. Her brother is surrounded by doctors and nurses. Her father is trying to be calm. Her mother is trying to get answers. All she can hear is the beeping and the hospital staff, screaming out things like patient is unresponsive or his BP is dropping … sixty-five over palp!
The next thing she knows, someone is taking hold of her arm and gently helping her out of her seat. T.K. is behind her, looking worried. Kari reluctantly gets to her feet and tries to communicate what just happened, but judging by the scene, she assumes he already knows.
Kari looks at her brother, her hero. He took care of her and helped her whenever she had a problem. He stayed up with her when she had nightmares and couldn't sleep. The day he got his driver's license, he took her for a spin around town before going over to Sora's. And when she told him that she was dating T.K., he told her that he'd known all along that they'd get together and that he was happy she had found the same happiness he had.
He was always there for her. Why can't she be there for him?
Why can't she help him, fix his problems, make everything all better?
She's sorry, Tai. She's so sorry that she failed you.
A nurse yells something and T.K. leads her out of the room. She fights him but he's too strong, and they end up in the hallway, along with her parents. She starts screaming and hitting T.K., only wanting to be beside her brother.
If he is dying, she deserves to be at his side. She deserves to hold his hand while he goes. He shouldn't be alone. She knows she wouldn't want to be alone.
Why won't T.K. let her go? She fights against him for what feels like forever; all the while her mother is sobbing and telling her to calm down, that she is not helping things. Kari doesn't care that she isn't helping things. She can't help Tai, so why does it matter if she can't help anything else?
Fuck helping things. Fuck this hospital. And fuck the idiot doctors who probably couldn't save her brother if they tried – which they probably aren't, because this fucking hospital is full of incompetent fucking fools and WHY ARE THEY TURNING OFF TAI'S MACHINES?
Finally, the doctor comes out of Tai's room and Kari knows what he's about to tell them. She stops struggling against T.K. and goes slack in his arms. He holds her close and whispers how sorry he is. His voice breaks but she doesn't care. She doesn't care that the doctors did everything they could. She doesn't care that Tai went peacefully. She doesn't care that Tai wouldn't have wanted to live his life as a vegetable and this is probably for the best anyway.
Her brother is gone. She will never see him alive again.
And nothing else matters.
I need to see him, Kari whispers.
In a few minutes, the doctor says gently, you can go in if you'd like.
Her mother is shaking her head. Kari, no … you –
I need to see him.
An eternity later, the nurses come out of Tai's room and tell them that they can go in and say goodbye. Kari's mother sobs and shakes her head. Kari wonders if her mother realizes that this is the last time she will ever get to see her son. Kari wants to shake her, to scream at her, to make her go inside and have a proper goodbye, because Kari knows that she'll regret it later.
Her father opts to stay with her mother. T.K. is there the whole time. She knows that he will come with her to say goodbye if she asks him, but she can't. This has to be between her and Tai.
She takes a deep breath and goes back into Tai's room. How is this possible? Ten minutes ago she was annoyed that she had no new reading material to entertain herself with. And now she is an only child. It's amazing how quickly things can be put into perspective.
Her eyes scan the room and finally come to rest on her brother. Even though he's only been gone for a few minutes, he already looks different. Or maybe he doesn't, and it's just the idea that his heart is no longer beating inside his chest that makes everything seem different.
Kari remembers when she was eight and she went to a funeral for some uncle she had never met. It was an open casket and she'd nearly screamed when she saw the lifeless corpse. Ever since then, the thought of a dead body has sent a chill down her spine.
But this is different, because it isn't just a dead body. This is Tai. And it makes her sad to think that anything about Tai would make her cry out in fear.
The room is so quiet and there is a slight ringing in her ears, and she thinks she'd give anything in the world to hear those monitors beep again.
Is it wrong that she would give her own life so Tai could have his back?
Kari thinks about every fight they've ever had. She thinks about the way she used to purposely hog the bathroom, and the way Tai used to tease her when they were little.
She thinks about the long drives they used to take, the ice creams he used to buy her, the soccer tricks he used to teach her. She thinks about two years ago, when she first found out that he knew Matt Ishida and begged him to get his autograph for her.
It doesn't seem fair that Tai's life is over. It isn't right. Kari knows that. Things like this shouldn't happen to people like Tai, people who deserve only wonderful things.
Tai hadn't ever done a single thing wrong in his life. Why him? Why not someone else, someone Kari doesn't know or care about?
Really, Kari guesses the question is why not her?
She has never before believed in reincarnation, but she finds herself on her knees praying that there is such a thing, because it isn't right for Tai to not go on to another life. It isn't right for his soul to wander aimlessly, to do whatever it does when it leaves the body.
But then she realizes that she is being silly. If God didn't answer her prayers about keeping Tai alive, why in the world would He answer them now?
Kari stands up again and although she knows it's sort of morbid, she kisses Tai's corpse on the forehead, feeling the coolness of his skin under her lips. And when she pulls away, she can see teardrops on his face, ones that can only be from her.
She suddenly wishes that she had something to give him.
She wishes that she had her stuffed penguin, the one that used to be Tai's. She was five when he gave it to her, and sometimes, she still sleeps with it at night.
She wishes she could give it back, that she could put it in his bed with him now, just so he wouldn't be alone. She wishes he could take it with him to wherever he's going. It doesn't seem right for him to make the trip alone.
She sighs, wondering if he can see her now. She wonders if he feels pain where he is.
I love you, Tai, she whispers, not sure but hoping that he can hear her.
She thinks about Tai in his coma and knows that for the first time since this whole thing started, her brother is finally free. He is somewhere so amazing that he wouldn't come back to her if he had the chance.
But she's too selfish to be happy for him.
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