In the following days, I had to visit Doctor Shibuya at his other workplace, the island hospital, almost every day to undergo a whole lot of tests and examinations. He asked me questions over questions about my family, my first phase, my general physical condition and a whole lot of other things I could barely answer. He said it was normal for my body to react the way it did, not changing anymore, as this was apparently my first phase's doing.
I had always been smaller, always weaker, always less far than other children my age, all throughout my life. This is why my family had hated me, had shunned me out, has said I was weird. Then, when my mark suddenly had begun to surface, it all just became worse.
They had abandoned me, thrown me away like a piece of trash. The fact that my father had found out that I liked men shortly before had not helped at all.
Back then, after having been thrown out of the house, I had been so lonely, so desperate. I had feared it would only get worse as my life went on, I had thought I could stay a boy forever, because I had been afraid of what would come as a lonely adult.
According to Doctor Shibuya, it is possible that this wish could have prompted my mark and first phase to fully surface even without apprivoising by myself. The mark was connected to a pretty strong Cybody, he said.
If that wish of mine back then had managed to come true all by itself to some extent, then, I hoped, it would be possible for my current wish to come true as well.
I didn't only want to help Tokio, I wanted to take my chance and become normal too.
I didn't want this stupid mark anymore. It had brought me nothing but tears.
On the other hand, I would have never been able to build up such a strong relationship to Tokio without it.
I deeply hoped it would be possible for me to keep it up after giving him what he wanted.
I hoped he would then give me what I wanted, his love.
It had almost been a week since I had been in the ruins with Tokio when I went to the hospital again after work. The schedule was hectic like that, but Tokio made sure to visit me regardless. He also seemed to hang around the ruins more than before, I wondered if he actually still found the time to paint.
I was happy with how things went on the one hand, but on the other hand, it was strange. Tokio seemed different from before, more focused. As far as I had seen, the air around him and his friends had not improved; Ryousuke would ignore him when they crossed paths at the old mine ever so often. But then later, I found them sitting together somewhere anyway, together with the young woman whose name I didn't know.
When the two of us were together, he still held me, kissed me, loved me, but it was somehow different. Our conversations focused on my mark a lot, how I progressed with the examinations and training and all. He had already planned procedures for the day I would be ready to give it to him.
I began to get the feeling his focus on me and my mark was what slowly drove his small circle of friends apart.
I didn't dare to ask him, though, because I didn't want to destroy anything. I neither wanted to make the relationship between him and his friends worse than it already seemed, nor did I want to have him believe I didn't want to give him my mark anymore.
Somehow, I still couldn't bring myself to telling him how I felt.
This feeling of uneasiness, the uncertainty about what was actually going on between Tokio and me occupied my mind more and more. Sometimes I could hardly concentrate.
On one of these days where I barely watched my step as I walked, I crossed a young lady on my way to the hospital.
We met on the small plaza in front of it, or rather, we bumped into each other. She was apparently as busy with other things as I was, and thus a little accident like this had been pretty much inevitable.
Her shoulder collided with my arm, she lost her step and even though she didn't fall, she lost the papers she had been carrying.
She was faster to apologize than me, and as I looked into her face to tell her that it was rather my fault than hers, I felt like I had seen her before. She was slightly younger than me from what I could tell, quite pretty and with the usual mysterious air that all islanders seemed to carry.
As part of my apology – and because it's just polite – I picked up the documents that has sprawled everywhere before her feet. I tried to not look at them too hard, as they were obviously hospital documents and none of my business, but I caught her name from one of them.
I couldn't see her family name, but her personal one was Sora. A really pretty name.
There were also papers that indicated she was expecting a child.
"Congratulations", I said to her as I handed her all the papers. Maybe I shouldn't have said that, it revealed I had read a little of her private stuff while gathering it all.
She smiled, but it didn't seem all too happy. Bitter, maybe, and a little sad. She sighed.
"Thank you", she answered after a short pause. "It's still very early though. Maybe that gives me the time to think about what I can do…"
I raised my eyebrows, she sounded as sad as she looked.
"Don't you want this child? Can't you have it? I'm sure there's a solution for everything."
I cursed myself in my mind, I shouldn't have asked her such private things. But on the other hand, it made me a little sad she was sad about expecting a baby. Children are wonderful, I think, and in that moment I was rather painfully reminded of the fact that I would probably never have one.
"It's not like I don't want it", she answered, "since the father is the man I love, but…"
She looked down, sighed again, just barely audible. Her smile was bitter once more.
"I just don't think he'd want all this. Being a family and all… I mean, he hardly looks at me anymore. He's an artist, he used to paint me a lot, you know, but now…"
She looked up again, seemed a little embarrassed. She quickly scratched her cheek and fumbled with her long, brown hair, laughed the same way I would laugh in her position, when being unsure what to really say or do.
"Ah, I'm really sorry. We don't even know each other and I'm heaping all my love troubles upon you. Not to mention it's pretty complicated…"
When I said it was fine she just bowed and took her leave. I let her go without any further word, I was really not in the position to give her advice on her relationships, since my own – if it ever had been one to begin with – was rather complicated, too.
I watched as she left, saw her long hair and light dress dancing in the late summer breeze. She was really pretty and again I felt like I had seen her before.
I thought about what she had told me. The man she loved was an artist, he used to paint her often…
My heart stopped.
The longer I looked at her, the more a picture formed around her, one Tokio had drawn. The one I had seen him paint on the day of our first kiss. His friend, his muse.
I swallowed, could hardly breathe.
The man she loved was Tokio.
The rest of that day happened like in a dream, a bad one. I hardly noticed anything that was being discussed during the examination. Apparently, almost everything was ready for the mark transfer and Doctor Shibuya was quite excited.
I wasn't so much anymore. All I could think about was how Tokio was having a child with a woman who thought he didn't love her. I began to understand the bad atmosphere I had noticed between them from afar and I realized this had started after Tokio had begun to spend more time with me.
What if I was the reason he wouldn't look at Sora anymore?
I should be happy, shouldn't I?
I had always wanted to take her place, I had been so jealous about how close they had been to each other. I hadn't even realized how they had fallen apart because Tokio and I were getting closer.
It seemed official now that I had him for myself, but at what kind of price? I had never wanted to take away an innocent child's father. I had never wanted to destroy their friendship.
I had never wanted it to become like that.
But then again, I loved Tokio, I loved him so much.
When I came back home, I received a call from Tokio, the first one ever.
He had spoken to Doctor Shibuya and was very happy that very, very soon we would be able to do the transfer. He didn't have time for me before that, he said, because of some preparations he had to make, but if everything went well, we could already do it the next day.
I swallowed. This suddenly went so fast, way too fast for me. I would have preferred to take my distance from Tokio for a few days, to think about everything. It would never change the way I felt about him, but how I should proceed in dealing with Sora's issues, which I felt were my fault.
But he took it for granted that I would be ready to do it the next day, he said I should rest and maybe even call in sick to be able to mentally (and maybe physically) prepare myself for the big event.
He sounded so happy. I loved his cheerful tone, his obvious excitement.
We talked for a little more – or rather, I listened to him chatting on and on about how we would finally both get what we wanted. We would end up on the road to a better future.
I sat on the floor of my small living room, blanket around my legs, and just listened to Tokio for what seemed were hours. I didn't talk much, I didn't want to. It was just so nice to hear his voice full of glee and confidence.
Sometimes, my mind trailed off a little and I wondered if it was maybe a good time now to tell Tokio how I felt. But on the other hand, I thought, it would be nicer if I did it while looking into his eyes.
That would be really romantic.
"I've got to hang up now", I suddenly heard Tokio stating, bringing me back to reality. "There's a night view picture I want to paint, so she's coming over soon. Good night and see you tomorrow!"
The phone line began producing sounds of vacancy before I could have even said goodnight to him. Not that I actually reacted that quickly in this moment; his last statement had brought back memories of what had happened earlier that day.
I listened to the sounds of the phone as if trying to sooth myself, a hot, unpleasant feeling rising up in my stomach.
Tokio probably didn't even know. He surely didn't know she was pregnant, and if she told him now, he might abandon me. Or would he not care? If so, he would abandon her and the baby.
These were both possibilities I did not want to become reality. But there was nothing I could do about it.
I clenched the earphone firmly. Maybe I was even shaking, I hardly remember.
Needless to say, I hardly slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind would play scenes to me that either made no sense at all or presented me with the thousands of possibilities as to how my current dilemma might end. Of course, none of these possibilities were really positive.
In other moments, I remembered scenes of my childhood. From time to time I almost automatically reached for the spot on my chest where the mark would materialize. It didn't come out that night, but I knew it was there, in one way or another, and couldn't help but touching, even lightly scratching that place over and over again.
I should be happy about my mark by now. It had brought me close to Tokio. But for obvious reasons, I couldn't be happy anymore at all.
Most of the next day was not much better, I could hardly concentrate at work and would indeed take up Tokio's advice about faking sickness. I left in early noon, but as it would not be a great idea to immediately go down into the ruins, I wandered around the town for a bit.
I had no clue what to do as "preparation" and didn't even feel like it. My thoughts only revolved around all that had happened the day before.
I hadn't even eaten anything yet, I just couldn't. Everything was just so overwhelming.
At some point, I just stood there in the middle of the marketplace, staring up into the sky. I could see the faint outlines of the moon through the clear blue sky.
Why? Why did I have to be among the people that had been blessed – or rather, cursed – by some beings from way up there? If this story was even true to begin with…
I had never wanted anything of this. My mother had never wanted it. That's why she had fled the island way before my birth.
And I had been stupid enough to come back here. I should have never done that.
I remembered how I had been accused of being a freak, a monster, destroying the family. My father's voice echoed in my head, and I began to think he had been right all the time. I had not only disturbed my own family's order, now I was also in the process of breaking another one apart that had just been about to build up.
I should have never come here.
I had been so stupid, so blind.
All I had been seeing was Tokio, just focusing on how to make him mine, completely fixed on my own happiness without seeing others. Like a little child, I had wanted him for myself, not caring about anybody else around me.
Without much thinking, my hand raised to that spot again, tears building up in the corners of my eyes. I breathed in deeply, tried not to cry or scream or panic. The more I thought about everything, the worse it got.
I had been so stupid, so immature. My first phase had not only kept my body from growing up the way it was supposed to be, but also my mind. I was still a little, egoistic boy, and it hurt people around me.
I didn't want all this anymore.
As I kept staring into the sky, my head began to spin. I felt a warmth under my fingers, but it wasn't my mark. The warmth trailed down my fingers and then my hand, the same spot on my chest burned and I felt more hot trails there. I didn't have to look at them to know that my fingers were being painted red.
I wanted to see Tokio, I wanted to talk to him, wanted to apologize to him for being so stupid, wanted to tell him about the child.
But I also wanted him to embrace me, to be with me. Please, never leave me alone, you're all I have.
The more I thought about it, the more my head spun. I could hardly keep my balance anymore, but I also hardly noticed this fact.
Panic rose within me more and more with each new thought and they all came so quickly. I had hurt my family, I hurt Sora, Tokio, their child, everyone.
I didn't know what to do. Was giving him my mark really the right idea? I couldn't tell anymore.
All I knew was that I didn't know where to go anymore, or what to do. I feared I would keep on hurting the people around me, or myself. Even though I hardly cared for myself at that point.
I felt sick, so sick.
When I wanted to move my feet to get away, somewhere, wherever, I couldn't. I stumbled and fell, but hardly felt the stones under me at all. I might have been shaking, but I can't really tell. My memory of these minutes is so hazy, everything happened like in a bad dream.
In the end, darkness came.
It stayed with me for fifteen years.