Well here we are! First of all, I apologize for the delay in updating. November has been a busy month for me (including getting sick twice; bleh). But I've worked on this chapter whenever I could and here it is. I've been so excited about this chapter for a long time so please enjoy. Hopefully no one is OOC (aside from a certain someone ;) But please enjoy and thank you so much for all the reviews! I apologize for not responding to all of them, but know they are very much appreciated!
Chapter 8
I slowly moved my head and groaned. My whole body felt numb, I couldn't move; and I felt groggy. Opening my eyes, everything blurred as a mesh at first, but slowly cleared. White, everywhere white. And the smell, I knew this smell, this clean pungent smell. A hospital. I hadn't been in one since primary school. As I lay in my hospital bed, I noticed figures standing all around me. A doctor, a nurse, and my parents all crowded around my bed. I heavily lifted a hand to my head to stop the spinning and said, "What happened?"
"Car accident," mom said gently, "You're lucky someone was right there to call an ambulance."
I ignored mom's soft cries as I tried to remember. Driving. I'd certainly been driving. Where I don't remember. But I'd left a party. And then it all came back to me. Like a brick to the head, I remembered the party celebrating our progress and how the Olympics would be starting soon. "The Olympics! I gotta get out of here," I exclaimed, fully awake as I ripped the covers off the bed. Two thick, heavy casts stared back at me, mockingly. My legs drowned in the white cocoons as I stared dumbfounded. Only when I sank back into the bed, did I notice the sharp pain in my ribs.
"Take it easy Kagura-san," the doctor said, placing a hand on my forehead. "You've got quite the nasty injuries. You'll have to take it slow for a while . . ."
"What do mean," I pleaded. I searched his stone face for an answer. But he only stared back. He knew my situation. I could feel my emotions welling up inside as I said, "I've only got a few days of training left. This can't take too long or I'll miss . . ." And I stopped. At the entrance to my room, two other men stood, talking. One I recognized as Sugata-sensei. The other I didn't know. But they talked for some time and even glanced at me once or twice. When Sugata-sensei finally shook his head in apparent frustration, the other man pulled out a phone and as he dialed a number, the two left the doorway.
"Kagura-san. Kagura-san!" I shifted absently to face my doctor. It didn't matter what'd happened to me in that accident. I already knew what all of it meant. But the doctor continued regardless, "Kagura-san, you've suffered a few good injuries. You suffered from a moderate concussion. You broke two of your ribs. Now with your legs, and this is where I want you to pay attention . . ."
"Doctor," I interrupted. I knew I couldn't stop the tears running down my face and just catching a glimpse of my parents' expressions made it harder not to cry. So focusing solely on the stern doctor, I asked, "When will I be able to swim again?"
His face softened, only a little as he said, "Casual swimming will be fine, but not for a long time. And it will have to be nothing strenuous. As far as competitive swimming goes, well we'll have to play that one by ear. While your left leg only suffered a hairline fracture, it's the right leg that we're going to worry about here. Because that's going to take some work."
"What's wrong," I asked, though I didn't care. No more competitive swimming, huh? I thought. Just like that, my Olympic voyage sunk before it even left land. What would I do now?
"Your right leg Kagura-san, suffered from a compound fracture; otherwise called an open fracture. It's where the bone actually breaks through the skin. We had to operate on it the second you arrived. And we're going to keep you here until it heals. We want to watch it for infection."
"No," I whispered. It couldn't end like this. After all that hard work, I couldn't just give up. Tears streamed down my face as I felt the casts around both legs. "This can't be happening. I . . . I have to go train. I-I have to work on my dives . . . my timing . . . I can still do it . . ."
"Kagura," dad said, his voice barely reaching me, "Please calm down. This is hard enough as it is."
"No!" I burst. "I won't give up! I can still swim," I shouted, grabbing at my cast. I wouldn't let this stop me. It wasn't going to stop me. A bonkler like me, all I had was swimming. Arms reached out to stop me but I fought with all my strength, "No! I can still swim. I can make it!" Shouts from the nurse and my parents soared over the room as I clawed at the casts, my ribs aching.
"Nurse, the sedative," I heard the doctor holler as I fought his grip.
I just couldn't control myself. My whole life I'd spent with below average grades and horrible study skills. Even when I really tried in school, the best I could get was a "C;" a "B" was a once in a blue moon event. But swimming, I felt like a master at that. And here they were trying to take that away from me. "No," I shouted again when the nurse returned with the hypodermic, "Don't take it away from me! No!" The needle went in, and blackness.
(Two Days Later)
The news. I never watched the news. So boring and depressing, they never had anything good to talk about. But since being locked away in this hospital, that's all I ever seemed to watch anymore. Hey, it was that or watch nurses and doctors cavort around the halls. And I had enough of both every day. Sometimes I wondered; did anyone ever realize how awful it is to stay in a hospital? Aside from the upcoming physical therapy and family visitations, I couldn't do anything. And television bored me to the point where I'd leave it on just to fall asleep. Even with the news playing now, I really wasn't listening; until I heard my name. Perking up, I watched as a reporter appeared on the TV.
"A tragic accident has broken the Olympic Swimming team for Japan. Two days ago, Japan's only competitor for the 200 meter freestyle swimming event was involved in a car accident. Behind me, you can still see disturbed ground where the cars left the road and even some debris remains . . ." the camera moved over to the road where the accident had occurred. With nearly everything cleaned up, there wasn't much to see, but my stomach belly flopped at the sight of that spot; the spot that had taken so much from me. ". . . According to our sources, it was a drunk driver who had lost control and had sped into the intersection where he struck Kagura-san's vehicle. The Sohara Medical Center is not releasing information on Kagura-san and Japan's Olympic Committee said in a statement that they would not be replacing the lost athlete . . ."
I switched the television off. I couldn't stand to listen to it anymore. Lying in bed, I glanced out into the hallway. Everyone was busy; someplace they needed to be, as usual. I couldn't help but wonder what would happen to me. After this mess, where would I go? Would I have a place to be? Sure the Olympic program would provide me with some benefits despite me not competing. But would I be able to find something that would be as good a replacement as swimming. Sighing, I checked the clock and muttered to myself, "Impossible."
A knock on the door woke me from my thoughts and when I looked up, I was surprised to see Coach. She stood in the doorway, shocked. She didn't smile. She didn't speak. She just stood there and looked me over. I think she must've been in some sort of daze as she eventually stumbled into the room. I didn't say anything. I just watched her, watched her sit next to my bed, and then silence. She'd carried a small bag in with her which she fiddled with. Knowing this kind of atmosphere couldn't continue, I finally said, "Thanks for coming."
Coach weakly forced a smile at me and said, "No problem Kagura. I'm really sorry about what happened. I know how much this meant to you." I remained silent. Whether or not she really knew, I couldn't tell. When I didn't respond, she reached in the bag and pulled out a stuffed teddy bear. A light brown teddy bear with an open journal in its hands, I was surprised to find numerous signatures under the words, "Get Well Soon." Handing it to me, Coach said, "I got this for you. I hoped it might cheer you up."
"Thanks Coach," I said, grabbing the bear. Well, it was cute.
"Listen Kagura, about your accident. Everything's gonna be okay. We'll get ya healed up and . . ."
"Do you really think it'll work," I interrupted. Coach was at a loss for words with my question but since she brought it up, I figured I'd ask. After all, being that she was a swimming coach, she'd know a little about injuries. "I mean, I was really good at swimming and now that I can't do it, I don't know what's gonna happen."
Coach said nothing for a while. I couldn't tell if she was thinking how to word her response or if she just didn't have one. Though a long time had passed since I'd seen her like this, I remember that she almost always knew how to calm a person down. But with the assumption that she knew my condition, I don't think a response like that existed.
It appeared as though she had given up on thinking of a response as she said, "I think Kagura, that whether or not you go back to swimming, that you'll be just fine. I mean, there's always 2012. And if that doesn't work, well, you're a smart girl. You'll think of something."
Sighing, I looked away. She meant well. At least she'd stopped to talk. "Thanks Coach," I muttered, not wanting to upset her.
"No problem," she said, taking notice of the clock on the wall. "Is it that time already?" I only half glanced at the clock, not really caring what time it was. But obviously Coach had somewhere to be, for she awkwardly stood up and said, "Sorry Kagura, but I have to go." I nodded my head in understanding. She probably only dropped by on a whim. "Take care of yourself. See you later." And with that, Coach stepped out of the room.
Just having her stop by made me feel a little better. True I couldn't be in the Olympics this time, but maybe in another four years I could be. After all, broken legs didn't take that long to heal. But still, the doctor had called my case serious. It worried me over the next few days as I sat in that bed, motionless. I started watching hospital dramas on television. Quite melodramatic, and some of the injuries people came in with on those shows, I sometimes felt as though I was watching a horror movie. And suddenly before I knew it, the Olympics had started airing. Most of the events, I couldn't care less. One particular event though, I made sure to watch.
I sat in my bed that day; the nurse had just left to prepare for my physical therapy. Honestly, I had come to dread physical therapy. We had only just started, but my right leg bothered me more than ever. During the therapy and even after, I'd sweat and with my leg swelling up, it hurt to walk on (that is, try to walk on). I'd started feeling malaise not long after. And I hadn't a good night's sleep since arriving, but maybe that was just the hospital atmosphere. Right now though, that didn't matter; because the Olympic event that I wanted to watch most was going to be on.
I flicked on the television in time to catch the announcer say, "Welcome back everyone to the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics. It's been quite a competition for the women's swimming events and this next event will be no exception I'm sure. Stay tuned, because coming up is the women's 200 meter freestyle competition here at Beijing." And then it changed to commercials.
Just then, the nurse returned and said, "Kagura-san, your doctor would like to. . ."
"Uh sorry, can it wait till later? I wanna watch something first." I said, not wanting to miss my event.
"Kagura-san, you need to . . ."
"Please, I need to see this." The commercials ended and the announcers had already begun recapping the moments leading up to this swim. I glanced at the nurse pleadingly. She didn't seem to know what to do. "Please. I'll go the second this is over."
Giving in, the nurse nodded and said, "J-Just buzz me when you're ready." And she hurried away from the door. Probably just my physical therapy. A couple more minutes won't kill them. Besides, who cares? The swimmers were already coming out. This final swim would be for the medals. Of course Japan wasn't in this swim. The closest country I could root for happened to be China. Oh well. Pang's good. She'd won four golds at the Asian games a few yews back.
With the swimmers diving into the water, I shouted, "Come on Pang! Take the gold!" A few people from the hall glanced in at me but I didn't care. Waving my fists in the air like an idiot, this was the most excitement I'd had in a long time. And I certainly wasn't about to let some stupid physical therapy interrupt me. Besides, I was supposed to be there.
". . . And at the fifty meter turn, Pang is in the lead," the announcer cheered. I sportively shook my fist in the air. I couldn't keep the tears out of my eyes as I cheered her on. "That lead for Pang didn't last though. She's dropped down to second and Pellegrini has taken the lead."
"Come on Pang. Drop too far now or you'll never catch up," I said tensely. But by 150 meters, Pang had dropped out of the top three and things grew closer. "Come on Pang! Everything you've got! Go now," I shouted at the television.
". . . That's it! Pellegrini gets the gold! Silver will go to Isakovic. And finally, the Bronze will go to Pang!"
I switched off the TV. "Oh well," I said, "at least they got a medal." I sat in silence and eventually wiped the still falling tears from my eyes. "But if that'd been me, I would've had the gold," I whispered. With all the people that had comforted me, it still hurt. I'd been less than a week from the opening ceremonies and in the blink of an eye, I'm out. "There's always 2012," Coach had said, but would they still take me? What kind of a swimmer will I be after I heal? Will I even be able to train? I'll have to try.
Knock. Knock. My doctor stood outside the door, waiting for me. I nodded and pulled away the covers as he entered. "Sorry. I just wanted to watch the swimming," I said, swinging my body over the bed, only now realizing how much I'd strained my ribs from watching the match. "I'm ready when you are."
Giving me this funny look, the doctor said, "No Kagura-san, you're not going to physical therapy today. There's something I want to discuss with you."
"Okay? What is it?"
The doctor took on the manner of a parent explaining to a child that someone had died. He didn't seem sure of what to say. I watched him glance at his notes and back at me and I immediately knew something serious was wrong. "What's going on," I inquired.
"Well," he finally said, "as you know, the main reason we're keeping you here for so long is because of your leg that had the compound fracture. We were keeping you here to watch for infection . . ."
"And . . ." I prodded.
Releasing deep breath, he said, "Kagura-san, because of what's happened to your leg, you've developed osteomyelitis. It's a type of bone infection that can occur after accidents such as yours. All those things you were experiencing: the sweating, the swelling, the uneasiness. Those are all symptoms and I wish you would've mentioned them."
"Sorry," I muttered, "I didn't think that was important. I just thought they were . . ."
"Never assume anything." His voice changed and I could hear his agitation. "This infection is very serious Kagura-san. I was hoping that by keeping you here, we could avoid this scenario."
"What's gonna happen to me?"
"Well," he said, "First we'll have to do some tests. Some x-rays, a CBC, a CRP will need to be done for sure. But there may be others. You'll be given antibiotics intravenously for at least four weeks. We'll see where we are after that. More surgery may be needed but I can't say anything with certainty until we do all your tests."
It sounded serious. Just the name osteomyelitis frightened me. I stayed silent for a long time as my doctor explained to me the different treatments that I'd be going under and what the different tests were that I'd have to endure. I rubbed my forehead with worry. From start to finish, always a bonkler. I thought to myself. "So," I said helplessly, "Will I need amputation? Is that what you're telling me?"
"No," the doctor said, "Only in rare cases is that necessary. Being that you're an athlete, I'd imagine you'd have excellent blood circulation and you don't have diabetes; and those are two of the main preexisting conditions where we'd worry about amputation. What's really going to determine your prognosis is whether this is acute osteomyelitis or if it turns out to be chronic."
"So, which one is bad," I cautiously asked.
"Chronic. Even with surgery, the prognosis is not good for chronic osteomyelitis." And handing me some information relating to the infection, the doctor said, "You shouldn't have to worry too much. But please let us know about any strange pains or symptoms. You don't want this to get worse." And with that, he left.
Kagura chuckled and said, "Guess which one I ended up with? Just guess?"
I was afraid to answer, but I had a good idea of which one she got, if not from how she asked but from how her hand clutched her right leg; something I hadn't noticed until now. "Chronic . . ."
She nodded as her voice quivered with frustration, "Yep. Chronic osteomyelitis. They went in and did surgery. I was released and a few months later, I started sweating and my leg swelled and I was running a consistent fever of over a hundred." Turning her head, she directed my attention to the end of the trophy case, where a cane leaned up against the wall. I hadn't noticed it before but there it sat all the same. "It didn't take long and I lost some feeling in my right leg." Her voice bubbled up a bit as I could see her blinking rapidly, ridding herself of tears no doubt.
I motioned for her to stop and was about to say that she didn't have to continue but I never got the chance as Kagura rambled right on. "You know Tomo, I can't go anywhere without that cane now. I have a hard time walking without it. And my doctor said he'd never seen anyone lose feeling in their leg as fast as I did. He thought for sure it was something else, but nope, it was the chronic osteomyelitis." Shaking her head, she glanced longingly at the trophy case and said, "I'll never fully heal. Just like that, my life was ruined." Her breathing increased and excitedly she continued, "My dad even tried to convince me to get rid of my trophy case. He said it was a nuisance. He's the one that bought it!"
"Kagura calm down," I said, attempting to avoid hysterics. "Breath. Take slow breaths." She'd been hyperventilating for the last half a minute or so. She needed to take it easy. I didn't want her fainting on me. And then suddenly she stopped. And her face changed to a serious, almost glaring expression; like she could see right into me. I'd never seen such a frightening stare in my life. It caused me to back away a bit, sending a chill down my spine.
"But," Kagura said slowly, her eyes boring into me, ". . . I had a chance to fix it. I had a chance to get my life back. About two weeks ago, when the 2012 Olympics were on . . . She visited me . . ."
"Kagura-san, you've got one more group of kids to teach," Hiragii-san called out, "They're just learning how to float. Get them use to the water please."
"Alright," I hollered back, and grabbing my cane, I limped across the pool. While the pool did remind me of the lessons I took as a kid, that reason was also why I hated this place so much. How could I go from "almost" Olympic athlete to teaching little nose-pickers how to float belly up without drowning. Oh well, it was a job right? Even though some Olympic officials helped me find this job and helped me settle into a house (with stairs no less), I felt abandoned. As sight of a bunch of little kids with floaters around their arms came into view, I sighed. Oh well. Get this over with Kagura and you can go home and get ready to do this all over again tomorrow. Yay.
The small kiddy pool being not much bigger than a blow-up pool for home; I managed, with the help of my cane, to sit down in the water with the kids. "Alright kids. My name is Kagura-sensei and we're gonna learn how to float in the water. Now, eventually we're gonna take those things off your arms and float without them . . ." I said, "But for today, we'll practice with them on and just splash around a bit."
The kids appeared happy with that decision and none of them were terrified of being in the water. That helped me a lot. So I just sat back and watched them mess around. They chatted incessantly over silly topics. But one kid eventually perked up and announced, "I'm gonna get so good at swimming! I'm gonna be in the Olympics!"
One of the other kids argued, "No you can't! The Olympics are on TV now! You're too late."
"I'll wait till next time!"
With some name-calling arising, I decided I'd better break it up. Pulling them apart, the two continued to argue and I said, "Knock it off already! If any of you wanna win a medal, you better worry about this stuff first."
One of the shyer girls whom I had seen here before softly asked, "Kagura-sensei, were you in the Olympics?"
Then one of the boys who'd been part of the little argument shouted after the girl, "Yeah you'd be super fast, like a jet!" And he made a "Swoosh" sound as he mimicked a plane's flight, in the water.
I considered telling them all about my Olympic experience but figured they wouldn't understand. How do you explain to a bunch kids how some dumbass drunk rammed your car and destroyed your leg? And not to mention, I might get trouble. So, I feigned a smile and said, "No, I'd never make it in the Olympics. I'm not fast enough."
Satisfied with the answer, the kids returned to their messing around and thankfully, their time to leave arrived only a few minutes after. Freed from my job for the day, I grabbed my cane and stumbled toward the locker room. "Kagura-san," Hiragii-san said. I turned to see what she needed. "Were you gonna need help getting out of your swimming suit today? I can send someone over."
"No, I'll be fine," I said, and continued into the locker room. Sitting on the bench, I buried my head in my arms and remembered what I'd told those kids. "Not fast enough huh? Did I really say that?" It surprised me how much it had hurt to say those words. But what else was I supposed to say? Getting the swim suit off, I carefully changed back into my regular clothes, trying not to think about what had just happened. What am I doing here? Why do I keep coming back?
Shutting the locker, I left the pool and dropping myself into my car, I drove home. At least tonight they'd have the swimming events on. Maybe Japan would actually win something tonight.
Dropping my things at the door, I limped into the kitchen and grabbed myself a TV tray. Not really hungry, but I needed something to carry my drink. Snatching a bottle of sake and a glass, I shook my head at my own stupidity. Drinking was for weekends. But the Olympics were tonight, and with my swimming competition. I needed something to cheer me up.
Into the living room and plopping myself down on the chair, I flicked on the television and poured out a glass as the irritating announcers began their summary. They reviewed highlights from the last Summer Olympics and I took a sip. My name didn't even get mentioned. They sure forgot about me in a hurry.
"Stupid driver, I could be there right now," I watched enviously as Japan's swimmer walked out with a huge smile on her face. I watched her walk up to the pool, stretch, and get into position. I imagined I was standing there, preparing to defend my gold. Cheering fans, mom and dad, Coach, and even Nyamo watching me in the stands.
"It can still happen."
I froze in my chair. "W-Who's there," I asked, switching off the TV and turning around.
To my bewilderment, a high-school girl stood next to my trophy case in uniform. She stared me down, watching my every move. First thing that popped into my mind, I know her. The high-school uniform she wore was an exact duplicate of my high-school uniform, the fall/winter version. Her shoulder length, dark brown hair gently swayed back and forth, rubbing up against her nearly white skin. Aside from the pale skin, she appeared normal; except for her eyes. The way she looked at me, it was like she hadn't eaten for weeks and I suddenly looked like an appetizer. "So this is what's happened to you," she said coldly, "A washed up swimmer teaching kids how to float. Kind of like a fish out of water."
She smiled briefly at me and turned in place, like she was being spun. And she stopped, facing a shelf full of old pictures. Curiously, she picked one up, her expression changed and turned sad, despairing over the contents. With her mesmerized by one of my photos, I hoisted myself out of the chair and grabbing my cane, carefully walked over to her. Able to get a closer look, I half expected her to start crying with how she gazed longingly at the picture. Speaking of which, I took a quick peek at the one in her hands and suddenly I knew. She was the spitting image of Osaka.
"Who are you," I asked, watching her expression. But she didn't answer. Unsure of how to handle the intruder, I tried a different approach. "Do you know her? Kasuga Ayumu?" Maybe she's a relative. But that seemed a little farfetched.
"I am her."
The words from the girl were so faint that I almost didn't hear, but when she set the picture down, her eyes hardened again and the same crazed look returned. "W-What do mean? Osaka died shortly after graduation. She's been dead for . . ."
And she just glared at me. I didn't believe her at first, and in fact I didn't really believe it to be her until she left. But still, there Osaka was all the same. And when I seen her glare at me that way, I knew that whether this was Osaka or not, something was seriously wrong with her. She approached me and I took a step back, teetering off my cane and hitting the floor. I moaned in pain upon slamming into my leg, but Osaka didn't even flinch. She just hovered over me and said, "You were always the competitive type, weren't you? Athletic, strong, determined . . . But your grades, they were worse than mine."
I gripped my leg and watched Osaka closely. I was terrified. She had an edge to her voice similar to that of a crazed killer from those cop shows. Osaka turned and faced the trophy case, looking it over. Without glancing at me, she said, "Is this where you were gonna put those medals? The national and international trophies? All those awards and certificates and pictures with the prime minister?" Then meeting my eyes, Osaka finished, "Were you gonna put your Olympic medals in here?"
The way she spoke angered me somehow, as if she mocked me. Trying to sound even the tiniest bit threatening, I said, "What do want already?"
"I want to help you fill this trophy case. I want to help you get your life back."
I was about to say, "Impossible," when she waved her hand in front of the case and suddenly it began to glow. I dared a glance at the case and my mouth dropped in shock. The dust and emptiness gone, replaced with gold medals, elaborate trophies, certificates, and photographs. On the trophies and medals, my name gleamed in gold and silver. In the pictures, I stood shaking the hand of a government official or was receiving a trophy. The prizes listed many different competitions, including: The Asian Games, world championships, Japan titles, and, one from the Olympics. I stared long and hard at the 2008 Olympic gold medal which bore my name. I wanted to touch it, feel the lettering on the medal, but was afraid it would disappear. Turning to the gloating Osaka, I said, "T-This can't be real. I . . . I . . ."
Without saying a word, Osaka reached inside the case. She pulled out the Olympic gold and held it out, stretching the soft material. Out of instinct, I bowed my head, allowing her to place it over my neck. The hard medal hit my chest with a small bounce and I could feel its weight pull on my neck.
I sat dumbfounded, reaching up and touching it. Running my fingers over the gold, over my name; I couldn't help but cry a little. It was real. It was actually real. I turned to the case, wanting to touch every single piece inside.
"This can be yours," Osaka said, "I can give it all back to you."
With that the television flicked on and a reporter stood at some pool announcing the results of another competition. "And Kagura-san continues her unstoppable chain of victories. This time at Japan's most prized . . ." and he continued on as the program ran highlights of me swimming and I could see my own arms and legs, kicking and throttling me through the water in perfect form.
"Yes. Please help me," I said, my mouth moving on its own, "I want this back. This was my future."
And Osaka looked back at me. Strange, I couldn't tell if she was excited by my response, or disappointed. Regardless, she waved her hand once more and the television flicked off, and everything in the trophy case vanished, including the Olympic medal that hung around my neck. All of them, gone. Dust reappeared and the case reverted back to its original state, empty. Then Osaka said, "I can help. But, there is a price."
"W-What is it?"
"I need you to take my place."
"I-I don't understand," I said, a feeling of foreboding rising in the pit of my stomach.
Without warning, Osaka started moving in on me; her eyes intensely focused on me and I tried to back away. As she advanced, she said almost desperately, "What do you think Kagura? You can have your life back. You can have everything you've ever dreamed of. You can have your leg back. If you just take my place in . . ."
"NO," I shouted. Though my heart screamed inside, begging me to take the offer, something in the back of my head screamed louder. And it took every ounce of strength for me not to say yes. I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks, knowing what I'd just done. Stammering, I said, "I don't want this. I don't know how you can do all this but there is something wrong with you. I don't want your help."
Shocked by my refusal, Osaka said, "Are you sure? I will not make this offer again. I will . . ."
"I don't want it!" Shutting my eyes and covering my ears, I continued to shout, "I don't want it! I don't want it!" I had to. Because if Osaka said one more thing or showed me one more trophy, I might've really said yes.
By the time I had stopped shouting, I was crying. Afraid to move, I waited for her to place a hand on my shoulder, waited for her to shove something in my face. But nothing. Opening my eyes, I slowly looked up. She was gone. Nowhere to found. I glanced over to the trophy case, the empty, dusty trophy case and whispered one final time, "I . . . don't want it."
Kagura eyed the floor as she finished her story. For a long time afterwards, she was silent. When she finally did look up at me, she said, "Tomo, I don't know what it was about that girl, but there was something evil inside her. Whatever she was, she looked like Osaka, and she even sounded like Osaka. But that girl was not Osaka. It couldn't have been. But even now," and clutching her chest, Kagura said, "I can still feel that gold medal on my chest."
"Kagura please, you're . . ."
"I miss it Tomo. I really, really miss it."