X - Revelation
She was wearing a cap.
It was hopeless, everyone agreed. It had spread too far, too fast. Barring a miracle, the best they could do was to give her a few more months. In the meantime, the clock would continue to tick down, and all she could do was to wait for the inevitable – while living her days in sickness and misery, and running up medical bills that ran well into the millions.
Yet the doctors had insisted, and the insurance company had agreed to pay for it – so they would try. The one in a hundred chance for full recovery. There were miracles, after all.
"I should have told you this before," Aoi mused. "I should've known. Maybe I was being naïve. Maybe I thought it would go away all on its own. Or maybe I thought – as long as I tried my best, and lived each day to the fullest, it wouldn't matter."
"But it did matter. It changed the way I lived. The decisions I made. Maybe I'd still be playing the piano. Maybe I would be going to college. Instead of staying at home, working all the time, and waiting for – this – to happen."
That was rather harsh.
"The doctors gave me 6 months to a year. And that's if I'm lucky. Why does it have to take so long, otouto-kun? It hurts so much. And the drugs make me sick. It's hard to eat. It's been so long since I've had a good night's sleep. The next time I have one, I won't be waking up from it."
A sympathetic look would have to do – really, what could he say?
"A few months. I guess it's enough time to graduate from high school. Maybe you can help me, Sana-chan. Could you talk to my teachers? Maybe we can arrange something. If someone brings me my assignments, I can do them here. And someone can turn them in for me after I'm done. Tests – that'll be harder, but maybe there's something we can do about that."
He would try. He would take on the entire burden, if possible… didn't he owe her at least that much? All the late-night study sessions. Phone calls and visits, whenever he got stuck. Snacks, and words of encouragement. All the little things, which would add up into something significant, forming an enduring presence that had supported him from day one…
Yet, it would all disappear.
But not yet, Aoi reminded him. There was still a little time. He would be welcome to visit her at the hospital, but not more than once or twice a week – he would be needed at the apartment, now more than ever. If he wished to do more, there were other things he could do to help. He could find ways to comfort her mother; any little gesture would help. He could call her closest friends and remind them to visit – they had promised to see her at the hospital, and take turns in delivering her schoolwork. And, if he had a just a little time, he could read the story that she was working on, which would hopefully be finished in the time she still had left…
Ah, the story.
She hadn't made much progress since the last time he had seen it. The young salaryman, caught up in the toils of everyday life. His only solace, a short train ride to and from his workplace. And a lovely young woman who he often saw during his journeys…
And the rest of the cast. His two friends – his co-workers at the workplace, and fellow members of a most dysfunctional team. His best friend – a risk-taker, both in his work and in his love-life. And the female friend, who seemed to enjoy talking about relationships more than actually getting into one. So far, the story was a screwball comedy, with the three getting into one escapade after another; and their schemes would fail as often as they succeeded.
Well, at least they had a 50% success rate. And even if their careers didn't progress, they still shared a strong bond, had some enjoyable experiences, and – most importantly – time was on their side. Aoi had been right, it did matter. Though it was only fiction, Sana couldn't help but root for the protagonist; that he would find what he was looking for, before it was too late…
* * *
Another treatment.
Wasn't it supposed to provide hope?
Yet, his eyes and ears were telling him something different.
Pain. Yet unable to cry out, as she simply lacked the energy to do so. So, it would slowly seep into her mind, and wreak havoc on whatever was within. And in time, it would rot away, leaving only an empty shell behind…
It was a form of cruelty. Everyone knew what the final result would be. It was madness to pin everything on a one-in-a-hundred chance. Didn't anyone understand what that actually meant? Heck, even his mock exam scores gave him a 2% chance of getting into a first-class university, but not one person – not even himself – felt it would be a wise move to try for such elite schools. Her chance of survival was basically a statistic: a wild speculation based on unfounded hope, and not based on any reasonable fact. They might as well call it one in a million; the result would be the same. The doctors and the insurance company would insist on continuing treatments until the end – whether it came from the treatment or the disease itself.
Already, one part of Aoi had died.
Her smile was now gone. And with that, her cheerful and encouraging words. She was growing more and more unrecognizable with each passing day, as her attributes dwindled one by one.
Her love of food, for example. Her mother was always serving up her favorite dishes. Sana himself had chipped in on a few occasions. Only to be turned down, without fail – it hurt too much to eat, she explained. And swallowing was next to impossible. It was a chore just to drink water these days – and spicy food was out of the question. Soon, she would have to be fed through tubes; even a liquid diet would be pushing it.
So food was out.
And music was out as well. She would ask him not to play, before he even managed to get the keyboard out of the case.
But there had to be something. Anything. And maybe there was one thing she still enjoyed; she was still working on her story, on top of all her school work – and she would often ask him to read it aloud. But even then, there was cause for alarm. The story was starting to take a darker turn. It had started so innocently, when the protagonist's female co-worker offered to set him up with the woman he had seen on the train. And after a couple of false starts and misunderstandings, they had started going out in earnest. Ah, but there were some roadblocks. While the woman was indeed beautiful, gentle, and kind, she was also – a single mother. The protagonist was starting to lean on his female co-worker more and more, for advice and support. In the meantime, the team itself was starting to suffer, with everyone's love lives spilling over into the workplace.
Was this destiny?
Yes, Aoi had warned him. 'Sometimes, things don't get better – they get worse.' But that couldn't be true all the time. If that was true, what was he doing in Sakuranomori in the first place? Hadn't they hoped? Hadn't they believed? They had to, for such a thing as redemption to be possible. He would work. He would put his life back together. And in the meantime, he would support and help those around him… couldn't Aoi recover, and become the cheerful, hard-working cousin he always knew? Couldn't the bond issue go through, which would allow his aunt to ease up on everyone? Couldn't his relationship with his mother improve to the point where they could at least tolerate each other?
Perhaps. Perhaps not. But as things stood, darkness had descended upon Aoi, until it was all that she could see. There would be no ray of light. No escape. Not even in a work of fiction, the way things were going. And while she hadn't reached the state of utter surrender – at this point, even one in a hundred was starting to look generous.
* * *
Had it arrived?
No, not a miracle cure; the chance of that was dwindling still. But maybe, just maybe, this could provide a spark.
The twins were apparently alive and well. And they had sent a package and a postcard, addressed to him and Aoi – the surviving members among the circle of friends.
So Sana brought them over during his next visit; he felt it would be better if they opened it together. Sana did the honor of opening the box, and the contents looked promising. There were presents for both of them, and they were good ones, at that. An apron and a pair of oven mitts, presumably for Aoi; his gift was a fishing pole, which he quickly assembled – accompanied by a tackle box, fully stocked. The twins must have been doing quite well, indeed.
"Aoi-san, what do you think of your present?"
Aoi didn't seem to hear him; she was still reading the postcard.
"Aoi-san, did you hear me? Here. Don't you think this apron is nice? How about the mitts? Once you get well, let's start cooking again. There're a lot of recipes I'd like to try out. And look at what I got. What do you think of the fishing pole?"
Silence.
"Aoi-san, these presents are for you. Please take them."
Instead, they dropped to the floor – to be joined by the postcard, which was flung to the ground. And a picture. A barely-recognizable Shuu; since when did he have a beard? And… Yuzuki-sensei? Wait, this one had lighter hair. And she was holding a baby in her arms –
The postcard.
*
Sana and Aoi,
We hope you still remember us. It's been so long since we left. We wish we could come visit you, but dad said it was too risky. Maybe in a few years… maybe when people in town can accept us.
We hope you like the picture. Isn't he adorable? Our child was born last month. Oh, we wish you two can come and visit us. And Nanaka, too. We asked dad about that, but he won't let us invite you. Or even keep in touch with you. He always says the same thing: it's too risky. But you can keep it a secret, right? You can even call us by our new names, Takashi and Kiyoko Yamagata. It would be great if you can come over – we'd love up catch up with you.
Don't worry about us; we're doing fine. Dad has really been supportive, and promised that he would take care of us until we finished school and found work. We've made a lot of new friends in our new town. And, as for us… we'll always have each other; no matter what. True love found a way, and made the impossible happen. And we are hoping that both of you will remember that, and make it happen in your lives. We'll be rooting for you –
Shuusuke and Shuri Wakatsuki
P.S. Call us Takashi and Kiyoko Yamagata, from now on! E-mail us at and let us know what's going on.
*
What – what was this?
"Aoi-san?"
A muffled cry would be her only answer.
"Aoi-san, what's going on?"
The cry only grew louder.
"What do you want me to do with the apron – "
– SNAP –
The fishing pole was now broken into two. Sana quickly wrapped them up with the apron – and after a thought, added the mittens to the pile, and put them in the wastebasket. There was no need to ask; Aoi had already given her answer.
"Aoi, do you want to talk?"
She didn't. She couldn't – so Sana would stay by her side, until she cried herself into exhaustion.
* * *
Another day, another visit. Would this be the last? No one knew the answer; yet the chances were increasing by the moment. Aoi's fate was sealed; all he could do now was to make the best use of the time they had left.
Of course, it might help if she bothered to talk.
The incident with the twins might have been the final nail in her coffin. Ever since then, she had been reduced to one-word answers – and only occasionally, at that. She even resorted to using a whiteboard for communication at times; complaining that it was too painful to speak.
But as long as she remained in the realm of the living, Sana felt he might as well keep trying – he owed her that much.
"Aoi-san?"
No answer – not even from her whiteboard.
"Are you OK?"
"No."
So she could still talk, though her voice had lost all tone. It was a only a matter of time until she would speak in whispers – if at all.
"Aoi-san, I've been reading your story. And – I have a question. What's wrong with the main character? His girlfriend treats him well. And her daughter likes him, too. So why is he doing this to her? I know that his co-worker likes him, and they've known each other longer, but still – "
"Then there was the old classmate from high school. And his co-worker's best friend. Just how many women is he going to do it with? I don't understand, Aoi-san. Why can't anyone tell him to stop?"
"You're right. No one told him to stop."
"That doesn't mean it's OK for him to do all that."
"Does it? No one said it wasn't. His best friend thinks that this makes him a 'real man'. And not one woman said the word 'no'. Actually, all of them said the word 'yes'."
"But – "
"Then they told him to do it again, and again, and again. All he did was to give them exactly what they wanted."
"But – that's ridiculous! Doesn't he have any common sense? It doesn't matter what people are telling him; he should know better. Can't he tell the difference between right and wrong?"
"Maybe he can."
"Then why doesn't he stop?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out. I want him to get a hold of his life. That's why I keep giving him chances. But when I start writing, he has a mind of his own. He just keeps messing up. And it doesn't matter what he does – he just makes things worse. It's not because he isn't trying. He really wants to redeem himself. But the problem is that he has no idea what he's doing."
"What can he do?"
"I don't know. I wish I knew. Mom and I have been trying to figure it out for a long time. It's not simple. It's one of those things – even if you really want it and you work really hard for it – sometimes, it just doesn't happen. Maybe, it takes a miracle."
"A miracle?"
Aoi tried to respond, but could only produce a wheezing sound; she had lost her voice once again. She started to scrawl on the whiteboard – but finding the space insufficient, asked for a pencil and a notebook.
- Yes, a miracle. It doesn't happen for everyone. Everyone tried so hard. Nanaka. The twins. Asami. But for one reason or another, the miracle just didn't happen for them.
Good point. Nanaka – dead. Asami – dead. And the twins – well, worse than death. And Aoi, who tried harder than anyone else – dying.
Was there any justice in the world?
- But I think it will be different for you. Because I think you understand. That redemption isn't something that comes from hard work. It takes hard work, but it's not enough. There is something else involved, something outside of you; a precious gift that will last for a lifetime…
He couldn't understand a word she had written – just what did she mean?
Maybe a change of topic would help.
"How about the character in your story? Should he give up? Or is there still something he can do?"
- It's never too late, and he shouldn't give up. But I don't think it's going to happen for him. Because he's missing something that you have. Do you know why he did it with all those women? Because he thought it was OK, as long as he was in love and they both wanted it. So, he kept doing it. But after a few times, he got tired of her, so he looked for someone else to do it with.
Ouch.
- But I don't think you're like that. You don't make excuses. You don't try to justify yourself. You still mess up, but you're willing to take responsibility. I heard about what happened with Riko. Even after she became pregnant, you tried to do the right thing. You still wanted to be with her, and to be a father to her child. And find a job and get married, as soon as possible.
And even after she aborted the child, you still tried to win her back. Why did you do that? She made it clear that she wanted no part of you.
A pause, and Aoi lifted her eyes toward his, searching for an answer.
"I thought it meant something."
A quizzical look.
"A promise. It was about a year and a half ago. We were on our way back from a date, when we got caught up in a rainstorm. I wanted to head home, but Riko told me to wait – there was something she wanted to show me."
"So we took a detour on our way home, a short hike up a small hill. The storm cleared up just about then, and we saw it – a rainbow. Then she told me a story. When two people make a wish under the rainbow, their wish will come true. So we made a wish then and there; that we'd always remember each other, no matter what happened."
"It was one of those magical moments. Our relationship really took off after that. We thought we'd always be together, and that nothing would get in our way. And we'd always remind each other of our promise…"
Yes, and affirm it with words and actions. Each time, Riko would ask for a little more – and Sana would give it to her. Then a little more. Then a little more. Until, that fateful day when everything came crashing down… why was it that this thing called pregnancy always got in the way? First with Riko, then Nanaka. They were asking for it all along; yet in the end, it was all his fault? Maybe that's how all girls were – they were never willing to accept their half of the blame.
Of course, he couldn't say that to Aoi.
"I messed up with Nanaka. I shouldn't have tried to get out of it. But I didn't know what to do. I thought I did with Riko, but it didn't work out. So I was confused. But I had no idea that she'd take it that badly – "
Aoi paused – as if in deep thought. Finally she picked up her whiteboard, and started to write:
- Didn't you make a promise with Nanaka, too?
A look of guilt. "No, it wasn't because of a promise – it was something I did in the past. I wanted to make it up to her – "
He was greeted by a curious glance. Shoot, had he said too much? The clues were now swimming in Aoi's head. Nanaka's erratic behavior after Sana left… the SLAP upon his return… their roller-coaster relationship… and Sana's track record…
She was sharp.
An attempted scream. But only a wheezing sound would come out, followed by a series of coughs. Aoi threw herself under the covers and started crying – and this time, there would be no telling when she would stop.
* * *
Graduation.
Somehow, she had done it. Sana and Aoi's friends had to deliver the schoolwork on a daily basis, and they had to arrange for a nurse to proctor the exams – but Aoi had achieved passing marks, and easily at that. So there would be a party, with everyone present: her mother, Sana himself, her group of friends, her homeroom teacher, and the principal. Even the nurse who served as her proctor was invited to stay, if only for a moment.
The ceremony commenced as Sana played the keyboard, and the principal handed her the diploma. Pictures were taken. A cake was brought in, in her honor – though she wouldn't be able to eat any of it. There were congratulations all around. A day of celebration, a moment of joy – perhaps Aoi's last.
But her medical condition was placed on the sidelines as the party continued. Her friends were now talking about their future plans. Only one of them had made it into college on her first try; the rest would be heading to cram school or junior college, or try to find work – they were undecided at this point in time. Her homeroom teacher commended Aoi for her marks, even under trying circumstances; she had achieved high marks in just about all of her subjects, and was likely to be one of the top graduates of her class. The principal, too, had words of praise, and he wished for her speedy recovery – for she would surely become successful, and represent Sakuranomori High very well.
Aoi, fortunately, was enjoying every minute of this experience. Though she spoke with a low, gentle voice – her high-pitched squeals had long since disappeared – it was the first time in a while that she could speak without difficulty. She hung on to every word spoken to her, able to soak them in without being driven to exhaustion. It was times like these when one almost dared to hope, that a miracle would talk place…
And of course, it ended. Her mother had to leave; her duties could wait no longer. Her friends and teachers took the cue and made their own exits. And Sana would have to go as well; he, too, had no shortage of work to do. Only, Aoi begged him to stay, if only for a few more minutes…
"Otouto-kun."
"Yes?"
"Did you finish the story?"
Ah, the other piece of news. Aoi had managed to complete the story just a few days back. It was definitely – different. A story that started at its peak, slowly went into a downward spiral, then began to accelerate, straight down. He thought the story had reached rock bottom when the main character started doing it with so many women – oh, how wrong he was. As it turned out, the story was just getting warmed up. And the ending –
"Yes, I finished it. But – did it really have to turn out that badly? What he did was terrible, but that was just a horrible way to go. And what about the co-worker? His best friend? They weren't much better, but wasn't it a bit extreme?"
"That's the point. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of people who do whatever they want and make excuses for themselves. Because eventually, you're going to pay the price. It might be today or tomorrow, or in this life or the next. But you just can't get away from it, no matter how hard you try."
"But – wasn't it her fault, too? She was the one who stalked and threatened the co-worker. And it wasn't a good idea to try a rebound relationship with her ex's best friend."
"She took her own life, too. Wasn't that bad enough?"
Well, that wasn't the point.
"What I want to know is – whether there's ever any hope. Because in your story, everything always turns out bad. Then it gets worse. And worse. Why can't things get better?"
"Why didn't it get better for Asami? Nanaka? Shuu and Shuri? Why am I not getting better? I don't know. I wish I knew how things could get better, but it never, ever, ever happened. For any of us. Even my friends couldn't get into the colleges they wanted to go to. I can't go on much longer like this – and I don't have much time left."
"But Aoi-chan, don't give up. There's always a chance you can get better. Isn't there hope? Aren't there miracles?"
"About that. I made the decision. I'm not going to be receiving any more drugs. I never wanted to in the first place – but they convinced me to hold on, until I graduated from high school. But now I've graduated. And I finished the story. So why stretch it out any longer? You don't know what it's like to take those drugs. It's a living nightmare. Every second of every day, you're in pain and sick; it gets to the point where it starts messing with your mind and you can't think. I can't get any sleep – I just pass out once in a while, and it gets to the point where I'm hoping I will pass out long enough so I can get more rest. And for what? The doctor says this is irreversible. I'm going to die from this. There isn't going to be a miracle. Everyone knows this, but they insist on wasting everyone's time and money, and extending this torture. I'm not going to go on like this. This is the end, Sana-chan."
"Aoi-chan…"
"Sana-chan, you're not the one who's dying. You haven't reached the end, not yet. Isn't it still possible for you? You will get more chances. My mom didn't kick you out of the apartment, and your mom is still there for you. And maybe next time, things will go better than they did with Riko and Nanaka. As long as you follow the Oribe family rule, you'll have a better chance…"
An involuntary shiver. "Aoi-chan, please stop talking like that! You'll get better, I know it! Make a wish. Pray. Do something. Please…"
"Sana, there is one last thing I want to tell you." She blushed. "It was supposed to be a secret. But mom said it was OK. And I have to tell you now, because I might never get another chance. This might be the last time I can talk to you." Or talk – at all.
"Yes?"
"Do you remember – what happened a few years ago? When you left Sakuranomori?"
Not a lot. It was a hectic time, with his mother in the foulest of moods. One minute, he was living with his mother and father in Sakuranomori, with Aoi and his aunt close by; the next, everything had shattered into pieces, as his mother took him and fled a few towns over, his father went in the opposite direction, and Aoi and his aunt were stuck in the middle. His friends and the piano were his only respite, but even that would be taken away. And the following months were filled with one horror after another, with his mother filing for divorce and his father moving in with another woman. This was when he met Riko for the first time; an undeniable beauty with an engaging personality, who seemed to sympathize with him…
"In a way, I guess it was my fault. Because I never should have existed. Do you know how I was born?"
Something told him that he really didn't want to know.
"Your father – he was like you. Always making mistakes, always trying to make amends. But he was a lot worse than you. At least with you, you and the girl were in love, and both of you were willing. It's much worse when only one person is in love and one person is willing."
Sana barely managed to suppress a scream.
"He tried to make up for it, of course. He stayed with your mother and he was always close to me and my mother. Don't you remember all those family trips? Outings? We even ate dinner together half the time. And the apartment – how do you think my mom was able to buy an entire building? There was no way she could, unless she had help. I guess that was a – settlement."
Which was a nice way of saying the word, bribe.
"The secret remained safe for a while. My mom felt really guilty, but it was understood that if she ever told your mom, there would be – consequences. But it had to come out at some point; and when your mom figured out what had happened – "
Aoi had said more than enough, though she had a few more sordid details to offer. There were a few more run-ins between her mother and – her biological father. Fights between the two sisters. The divorce hearings; apparently, Aoi's mom was pressured to be a witness for both sides. And the slow, gradual healing, which began when Aoi's mom testified on behalf of her sister, and grew to the point where Sana's mom could trust her sister with her own son…
"Aoi-san? Then – "
"Otouto-kun. It's true. You're really my little brother. I guess you always were, even when we were little. I was really surprised when I found out, but in a way – it felt right. Because that's how I've always felt about you. There was this – connection? It's been there all along, and even when you went away, it was never broken…"
Realization.
"Aoi-san, that means – o – Onee-san! Onee-san. I'll do it. I'll be there for you. I'll come visit you. If you ever need anything, just send me a message on my cell phone, and I'll come right away. I'll do anything. Everything. Just hang in there for just a little longer. Please, give me the chance…"
Aoi smiled – and Sana responded in kind. From now on, everything would be different. For there was a new promise: he would sacrifice everything for her, and take care of her, for as long as she lived.
And he did.
