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CHAPTER SIX: WELLNESS
NANA
"If you love something, set it free; if it comes back it's yours, if it doesn't, it never was."
- Richard Bach
I ONLY HAD myself to blame for the situation that I was in.
I honestly couldn't do anything besides lie in bed feeling sorry for myself. My stomach twisted and turned in knots that caused me to vomit every chance I got. I had attempted to will myself into thinking about something else as if I could simply will the pain away, but it proved fruitless. My grandmother often told me, "if you are cold, think about being surrounded by warmth to trick your brain." This was not one of the times where the same psychology could apply.
I had assumed it was a common stomach bug that I had contracted at first. Perhaps it was from the shady meat that I had bought from a discount store and ate for dinner last night. There were smarter corners to cut in order to save money, I concluded. Cheap meat was never a better alternative.
It had been three borning days since Kaneki had came over to tell me that he had asked out Rize. My days were filled with catching up on assignments, and occupying myself with mangas and the new anime that Anzai had got me into. Once I had finished the anime-binging it one night until the ending brought me to tears at three in the morning-and had caught up enough to enjoy my leisure time, I had spent the next night at Yumiko's house. Yumiko, her sister, Megumi, and I stayed up late watching horror films and listening to stories of Megumi's boyfriend. She was so entranced by him. He was the main topic of her conversations. Eventually, Yumiko asked her not to bring him up again unless she wanted to get kicked out of the girl group.
I couldn't help but to think the girl lucky, though. It wasn't every day that someone found a person to make them happy. She was young, as well. Only time would tell if her romance was for long term, or a fling that would end before they graduated high school. I sincerely hoped that it was the latter. He made her happy, and as long as she was healthy, paying attention in class, and he wasn't mistreating her, I didn't mind hearing her stories. And if for some reason they didn't work out in the end, Yumiko and I would be there, cuddling to a movie as we helped ease her pain . . . like friends and sisters do.
It was yesterday when I found myself having too much free time. I had been watching a cooking channel that gave instructions to a dish my grandmother often cooked. I had attempted it with the cheap meat substitute. Thankfully, I hadn't made enough for leftovers for my friends because I had all but thrown up my left lung into my toilet. Miserable was an understatement.
Hideyoshi had texted me that morning. I had been lying on the cool wood floor as if my bed was making my stomach worse. It took a bit of energy to finally read his message. He had asked me if I wanted to hang out with him after work that day. I had instantly felt bad; I was in no condition to entertain my steadfast friend. Rather, my fingers typed a reply on the screen, telling him that I wasn't feeling at my best and that we would have to take a raincheck. He sent back a frowning face emoji. Hope you feel better, Nana.
My body turned away from the wall to face my room. On the floor, my laptop displayed notifications from a pending video call. It was my mother. I let out a grunt. A part of me definitely did not feel like talking, but I reached over to scoop the device off of the floor. I set her up so that I could still lay on my side. Then, I answered the call, my mother's face coming onto the screen.
Her hazel eyes looked at me through her glasses in concern. She must have been able to tell from the wince taking place on my face that I had not been faring well. In fact, seeing her face did make me feel a bit better. Not particularly because she was a motherly remedy or anything of that sort. It was more so because she offered a distraction from the knots forming in my abdomen.
She quickly signed to me with her hands, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
I shook my head. I was being a bit dramatic, sure, but I had always been for the drama whenever I hadn't felt well. I had been that way since I was a small child. No one knew that more than my mother did. She knew that, for her brows pulled low on her face, and her lips pulled into a thin line.
"My stomach is in pain. I've been throwing up all day," I signed.
My mother frowned deeper, if that was possible. "I'm going to send you my recipe for stomach soup."
Ah. Stomach soup.
It was a recipe that my mother made growing up whenever I felt sick. She had got it from her mother, and she had got it from her mother, and she had got it from her mother. It was passed down through generations more than our hearing disease had been. It was a soup designed to relieve the pain from a stomach ache and introduce electrolytes, vitamins, and whatnot back into the system. It was supposed to replenish everything that the body had lost during the vomiting. However, the thought of eating made me almost hurt in itself. I wasn't too sure that I could stomach even the soup. Besides, it had been following recipes that got me into my situation in the first place.
"I don't think I can eat anything. I've been throwing up so much-I don't think I can go to the store right now."
"Where is Yumiko?" my mother asked.
I shook my head. "No, I don't want to bother her."
I would feel like a terrible person if I had asked Yumiko to go on a grocery run for me. She was probably getting out of class soon, but she lived in the opposite direction from my apartment building. Though, I was sure she would have done it for me. It wasn't fair to her. It wasn't her fault that I had food poisoning. It wasn't her responsibility to shop for me and take care of me.
Almost as if he had heard my inner monologue, my phone flashed with a text from my neighbor. I swiped my thumb across the screen to open it. It was simple and to the point. 'I'm coming in.'
Hideyoshi had told him that I wasn't feeling great. Soon after I sent the message to the orange-haired boy, Kaneki texted me asking if I needed anything on the way home from school. He insisted that he lived the next door down. He didn't mind getting me anything if I needed supplies. I hadn't asked him to go grocery shopping like my mother was expecting for me to.
He walked into my apartment moments later. I watched as he kicked his shoes off at the front entrance. His black sock-covered feet carried him further into my little studio. He had a plastic bag in his hand from the convenience store around the corner. He pulled off his blue jacket, placing it in the front closet by the door, and leaving him in a black long-sleeved shirt and jeans. He shook his head of black hair as if his bangs were getting in his eyes. Them, he shot me a polite smile, and made his way into the kitchen to boil a cup of water for me.
I wasn't really paying attention to my mother's signing. A slight blush had danced across my cheeks at home comfortable he felt. If he wasn't at his own home or Anteiku or the library, Kaneki was here at my place. I had told him to think of this place as his second home. It was good to see that he had took my words to heart. I couldn't count how many times he had strolled into my place in search of snacks whenever he was out of his own.
His movements were fluent, albeit a bit clumsy. He poured the boiling water into a mug for me. He opened a packet of tea and dipped the bag into the water. His feet padded over to where I laid in my bed in a heap of blankets. Tucked under his arm were a few papers and one of his notebooks. I sat up to accept the things from him. His lips mouthed that the cup was hot. I took it with two hands as the steam twirled into the air and disappeared.
The papers were today's work. He had accepted my assignments for me. The notebook was filled with notes that he had gathered from class. I offered him a small smile. I was grateful for him always looking out for me. For being a genuine friend. Because that's what Kaneki Ken was . . . it didn't get more genuine than him.
"Thank you," I signed to him, then took a sip of the hot liquid.
I could see my mother in the corner of my eye. "Who is that?"
I paled. I forgot that she was still on the video call. I gave him back the mug to place on my small chabudai table. He obliged with no complaints. I turned the laptop so that both of us were in the camera's view.
"This is my neighbor," I signed.
The two of them engaged in conversation. Kaneki sat on my bed as he talked to my mother, his pale cheeks dusting with the faintest of pinks. They had never talked before. Perhaps he had caught a glimpse of her the day that I had moved into the apartment building, but they had never formally met. She had met Yumiko, Megumi, and even Hideyoshi already. He was the only one that was left other than the ever-so-busy Anzai. I assumed that my mother was hounding him with questions. I was a bit nervous since I couldn't hear what they were talking about. Kaneki was a good guy; he should have been able to hold his own against her.
I reached over to retrieve the mug that he placed on the table for me. I sipped at it slowly. My stomach was still hurting. However, the hot tea was soothing it at least the slightest bit. It felt like a luxury after everything that I had been through that day. My eyes fluttered closed in content. Every part of me hoped that it would ease all of the twists and turns.
By the time Kaneki and my mother were finished talking, I had already finished my tea. He gently took the mug from my hands and made his way to the kitchen to dispose of it for me. I moved the laptop back over so my face was better in view. My mother's warm smile came onto the screen. I had guessed that Kaneki passed the test. She didn't look like she had anything negative to say about him.
"I'll let you rest. I'll call you back tonight," my mother signed to me. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
With a click, she was gone, and the screen turned white. I closed the computer to put it back onto the floor. Kaneki came back over to kneel in front of me. His softened gray eyes were filled with concern as he looked me over once . . . twice . . . three times. His hand reached out to move my bangs and rest the back of it against my forehead. He was trying to see if I had a fever. I blushed at all the attention that he was showing. His cold hand felt heavenly against my warm skin.
Usually, when we were in a group setting, he was caring to everyone involved. When we were alone, all of his focus was directed towards me. Even now, as we were the only people in my small apartment, he was acting as if I were the only person for the next ten miles. Maybe that was all that it was. He was caring-for a friend. We were friends after all regardless of whatever feelings I harbored for him inside. He was unaware of them, and he was here with me while he cared for his ill friend.
I looked up into his eyes. He was watching me with furrowed black brows. Each crease between his eyebrows showed the level of worry that he displayed for me. His tongue darted out to lick his lips in concentration. I scanned every detail of his face. The long, black lashes that casted shadows down onto his cheeks, the faint traces of freckles that littered the pale skin of his nose, the strong curve of his law leading down to the Adam's apple in his throat, the pools of melted metal that were his gorgeous eyes . . . all of it. I suddenly wondered what his parents may have looked like to create such a handsome, sweet, and kind young man.
He pulled his hand away from me. His fingers were the last to go, skimming the skin of my forehead as if to confirm his findings. He stood back up. My gaze followed his eyes move, watching as he towered over me from my bed. My heart thudded to the same drum that laid claim to my stomach. In that moment, I felt like I could have thrown up again at the sensation.
"How do you feel?" he signed to me, though some of the words were a bit off.
Nonetheless, I smiled at his attempt, and shook my head. I still felt horrible. He reached for the notebook that he had gave me. He grabbed onto one of the pens that laid discarded on my small table.
'Your mother gave me the ingredients and directions to something called stomach soup. I'm going to try to make it for you,' was what he wrote down on the paper.
Of course she did.
I took the pen to write down my reply. 'No, you don't have to do that.'
'It's okay. I want to. I'll be right back.'
Well, there was no arguing with that.
He shrugged his jacket back onto his arms. He bent down to put his shoes back on as I cuddled further underneath my blankets. Then, he was gone, and all of the life in the apartment went along with him. He was going through all of the trouble of going shopping for me let alone actually cooking the meal. Maybe he hadn't been satisfied with the way my forehead felt. He was always looking out for others despite the measures that he would have to go through to get it done.
I glanced back over at the papers and notes from class. I couldn't help the thought in my head that maybe . . . just maybe . . . he could have felt the same way about me. Maybe I hadn't been alone drowning in my growing attraction to him. Maybe he had developed something underneath his exterior . . . something that made him want to do that . . . something for me.
As I closed my eyes, I quickly willed the thoughts out of my head. There was no way that was true. There was no point in getting my hopes up. Kaneki was a good friend of mine. He was the first person that I had met here in Tokyo. It was just that . . . and he was going on a date with Rize. A girl that wasn't me. A girl that would never be me. A girl that was incredibly lucky and whom couldn't have been suffering from a stomach ache.
I allowed myself to drift off to sleep. I dreamt of the two of them together. Nowhere in that dream was I included.
I didn't know how long I had been out. The smell of vegetables and tofu filled my nose once I awoke. The room was dark save for light coming from the kitchen. I could make out Kaneki's figure inside. His back was turned to me, his hands moving to chop green onions and carrots on my cutting board. He was paying no attention to me. He truly had gone out shopping for me and returned to make dinner. Though I had never had the pleasure of eating his cooking, I felt my stomach rumble at the smells in the air.
"Kaneki," I called out to him from under the blankets.
He placed the knife down. He went over to the fridge to pull something out of it before making his way over to me. He knelt down in front of me to give me view of a slight smile and a bottle of cold water. I accepted it with a grumble. His hand darted back underneath my bangs to check my temperature again. Apparently, he liked what he felt because he offered a curt nod of his head. His hands pulled back to write something on the paper on the table from earlier.
'You've been asleep for three hours at most. Your fever has went down a lot. It's only slight now. Do you feel any better? Do you want anything? The food should be done in a bit.'
He was so attentive. I shook my head and pointed my finger to the remote on the table. His body shook with a laugh while he retrieved it and passed it to me. With the press of a button, the television was on, and he was back in the kitchen to continue cooking.
I stared blankly at the subtitles from a show playing on the screen. I hadn't made a move to get out of bed. My body was still a bit tired. I wanted nothing more than to tell Yumiko about Kaneki taking care of me; he was only supposed to come over to drop off a box of tea to me. However, she would run with the idea that there was something there. A spark-a crumb of something that could get a fire started. Especially in my condition, I wasn't in the mood for possibilities and fantasies.
I sipped at the water and mindlessly watched the television. My mind was racing with different thoughts. It was way more concerning than my stomach. Every single scenario that could happen played in my head. One where I told him that I had began to like him beyond our friendship during our months together, and he confessed sadly that he didn't feel the same. One where I told him and he laughed at me, asking if I had hurt my head in some way. One where I told him and he left to escape the awkwardness. One where I told him and he awkwardly reminded me of his first date with Rize coming up . . . whom was not me. None of the scenarios that I imagined worked in my favor. It was a secret that I would have to take to the grave with me, or lose him completely.
That was the way life worked. It didn't always turn out in one's favor. Just because one wanted something didn't mean that it was theirs for the taking. Everything was left up to fate, luck, and pure coincidence. It wasn't a coincidence that I had moved into the apartment next to his. Fate had brought him into my life for a reason. However, luck didn't pull us any closer together than it already had into our close friendship.
My skin suddenly went cold. I jumped out of the bed to run over to my bathroom. There, I vomited the contents of my stomach. Which was really nothing. Water and yellow bile from my stomach lining fell into the toilet from my mouth. It had gotten so bad to the point where I was throwing up water. I groaned into the porcelain bowl. It was definitely not how I planned to spend my evening.
I stood up and brushed my teeth. I was grateful that Kaneki hadn't followed me into the bathroom. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me at my worst. Though, he had been here with me since he got out of class, so I doubted anything else he could've seen that day would have been any worse. I was as bad as it got.
Kaneki was waiting when I returned. He had set up a spot at my chabudai for me. A bowl of the soup sat on the table as well as a mug of tea. I gave him a look of gratitude as I sat down. He sat down on the left side of the table with his own bowl. He watched me take a sip of the soup with curious eyes. He wanted to know if he had made it to my liking. While it didn't exactly taste like my mother's and grandmother's, it was still delicious. After totally emptying my stomach, it felt good to have something inside. It settled the knots that were forming within. His cooking had caught me off guard. It wasn't every day a man his age knew his way around a kitchen.
"It's good. Thank you," I signed to him.
Though he hadn't been even halfway fluent in sign language, he had been trying to learn bits and pieces to make communication easier for me. His hand movements were still shaky and often incorrect. Yet, he understood. A pink blush found its way to his cheeks while he sheepishly rubbed at his jaw. I smiled at his twinge of embarrassment.
He took a few spoonfuls of his own soup before writing on the paper. 'Are you okay?'
I nodded. I wasn't one hundred percent, but I felt a little better. The two of us ate in silence. We watched the silly scenes unfolding on the television screen. His chest shook with laughter a few times when a guy slipped on a banana on the show. It was such an old and childish joke that I found myself laughing at the fact that he thought it was funny.
Soon, he finished his bowl, and wrote down another note. 'I always take a bath when I'm not feeling good. I'm going to go run you one. It's a good way to relax and help soothe your stomach. And before you start saying I don't have to, it's okay. What are friends for?'
He stood up to take his bowl into the kitchen. I watched him while he made his way to my bathroom. What are friends for? Friends. For some reason, the word felt like an insult when it came from him. I knew that he only had good intentions for me. Good friendly intentions. Nothing more and nothing less. I sighed at that.
I was done after a few more spoonfuls. I couldn't bring myself to finish the rest of my food. I wasn't too sure if I could stomach the rest. I left the bowl there, telling myself that I would clean it up later, and reached for my laptop. I sighed again when I seen the notification on the screen. My mother was calling yet again.
I answered it with a weak smile. "Hey, Mom."
My mother was in her work attire. I assumed that she was working at the resort tonight. she must have been in her office taking a moment from bossing around her employees. The thought of her wagging her finger around, her soft voice demanding that the front entrance be mopped for the third time made me smile. When it came to the business, my mother was ruthless. It wouldn't crumble on her watch.
She looked at me with worried eyes. "How are you feeling? Did you eat?"
I nodded. "Yes. I threw up again a bit ago, but Kaneki cooked your soup. It was good."
"Oh, a man who can cook. How lucky you are." My mother's face lit up in amusement. "Is the man of the hour still there? It's seven o'clock."
I nodded for the second time, signing without thinking. "Yes, he's running me a bath."
The look on my mother's face made me instantly regret my words. Her dark purple brows raised high enough to cause wrinkles on her forehead. Her jaw went slack in shock. Hazel eyes went wide before returning to their normal thin size, dancing with mirth. Her mouth moved into a knowing smile. She pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose with a shake of her head.
I wished that I could take back what I said. There must have been a better way to put it instead of putting ideas through her head. Because, despite what she was thinking, it was simply not that. It was strictly platonic. My mother looked as if I had just told her that I was getting married and was six months pregnant. If I ever thought I was dramatic, it was a trait that I had definitely inherited from her.
She smiled from ear to ear, signing, "That boy must really care about you."
I blushed, my expression sulking a bit at her implications. "Not in the way you think, Mom."
At that moment, Kaneki came out from the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of my mother's face on the screen. He waved to her. I saw her lips tell him thank you for staying with me. I would have sighed again if they couldn't have heard me. Then, when I seen her say the word 'resort,' I slapped a hand against my forehead. There she went offering coupons and stays back home in Karuizawa. That was her favorite thing to give out to my friends.
Kaneki gathered his things and left. I watched his movements as he placed his shoes back on. He didn't bother putting his jacket on seeing as his apartment was just a door down. He locked the door behind him, gave me a fleeting smile, and then he was gone into the night. I guessed that he was okay with leaving me now that he seen that I was comfortable enough to hold my own. He no longer had to sit there while I wallowed in self pity . . . not that he had to in the first place.
My mother watched as I frowned, another knowing look washing over her face. "You like him, don't you?" she signed.
I nodded. My resolve hadn't been good enough for her not to notice. She was my mother, after all. She knew me better than anyone in my life ever could. She had been there through it all. First crushes, graduations, sleepless nights, my parents' divorce, she was always there. It was impossible to hide anything from her.
"Why don't you tell him?" she signed.
Why didn't I tell him?
I looked down at my fidgeting fingers before moving them to say, "He has a date coming up with another girl. She's beautiful. You should have seen him, Mom. He was so excited when he told me about it."
And she was. It wasn't like I didn't think myself to be beautiful as well. I had as much confidence as the next girl. But, the girl that Kaneki had just eyes on was in a whole different ball game. She was model worthy. She didn't even seem human. They were fit for each other more than I could fit into his equation.
My mother winced. "Ouch."
"I know." I signed, forcing a smile. "I'm thankful for him being my friend, though. He doesn't have to do all that he does for me. That's enough for me."
My looked at me through the screen sadly. "That's a very mature thing of you to say. My baby is all grown up, out there experiencing the world by herself. I'm proud of you. But, I can tell you really like him. I hope things work out eventually."
"Maybe things weren't meant to."
She told me to call her if I needed anything. We hung up after talking about our weeks a bit more. It felt good to catch up with her. It had been a long time since I had moved here and left home. I made a mental note to go home during the next vacation from school. It was obvious that my mother missed me dearly. As I did her.
I went to go get in the bath that Kaneki ran for me. My mother's words had gave me a bit of motivation. I was being mature about the situation. I would take Kaneki's friendship over ruining anything between us any day. A thousand times over. I didn't want to make anything awkward. It was the highlight of my day to walk to Anteiku with Yumiko, seeing Kaneki and Hideyoshi waiting for us with bright smiles. I couldn't do anything to jeopardize that. Not only would it destroy Kaneki and I, but it would also break the entire friend group. That was too selfish of a thing to ask for.
So, I'd officially gave up on Ken Kaneki.
I'd released him. I wanted nothing more than to be the friend he could come over and laugh at crappy television shows with. Besides, I didn't have enough time in my life to worry about it any longer. I had two papers due next week along with the single-page assignments he'd brought in to me earlier. I was going to have to pick up on my studying especially since I had missed classes due to my stomach ache.
I sunked my head into the water. Being an adult out in the world was proving to be a lot more work than I thought it to be.
I CAME TO class the next day, thankfully.
My stomach had subsided enough for me to bring myself to school. Maybe it really had been the soup that helped me get over it. I had woken up that morning with a newfound pep in my step. My mother's soup never let me down in all of my eighteen years.
I made sure to tell Kaneki thank you when I seen him in class. He waved me off; helping me didn't warrant a thank you. Still, it was only right to owe my speedy recovery to him. He gave me a long lecture about how I wasn't to eat anymore mystery meat from random discount stores. I couldn't help but to laugh at his rant. It should have been common knowledge, but it was a mistake that I had to learn the hard way.
I spent my time in between classes in the library that day. I had to catch up on everything that I had missed. Luckily, I hadn't missed too much. I had sat in my last class of the day with Kimi. she told me that she was glad to hear that nothing too bad had happened to me. She was more than happy to lend me yesterday's notes so that I could go over the missed material. She was always one of my biggest lifesavers when it came to school.
I had been walking out of Kamii University when I bumped into someone. I was holding a book and two notebooks as I tried to make my way back home. When I collided wth them, I fell to the ground, the book and papers scattering on the concrete. My hands and knees suffered most of the impact. I was wearing a pair of dark jeans that day, so my knees weren't scuffled too roughly. However, my hands stung with scratches from rocks and scraping against the ground. I let out a groan. Of course something like that would happen to me.
The boy that I bumped into was one that I had shared a biochemistry class with. Yumiko had introduced him to me on my first day of school. He had brown hair that had a hint of orange to it. It swept across his head in a mess that hung into his hazel brown eyes. He glared at me through thin, black glasses. He appeared to be a little older than me; he was surely a second or third year. Nakuto Nishio, Yumiko had told me his name was-or something like that. Natsuki? Namishi? It was something along those lines.
His mouth moved to bark out words that I couldn't hear. I stared dumbly up at him. He rolled his eyes before he walked over, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. I sighed. He had no doubt spewed about a bunch of insults of how I should watch where I was going. At least my hearing didn't allow me to hear the offensive words. How embarrassing.
My hands moved to pick up my scattered belongings. It was better to do it to avoid any further embarrassment. I had reached for the book when a hand darted out to get it before I could. I looked up to see who it could have been. Tired green eyes looked back down at me. Thank goodness it was someone I knew: Hiroto Anzai.
He offered another hand to help me up. I took it with a smile. He helped pull me back up to my feet. My notebooks were back securely into my arms. He passed me the book that had been flung out of them on the way down. I was very grateful for his help. Unlike that guy who had just left me on the floor as if I was a measly roach that had disrupted his peace.
Once he made sure that I was alright, he signed to me, "Yumiko told me that you were sick. Are you alright? How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay. I feel way better," I replied, shifting the books so that I could use my hands. "Thank you for helping me. That guy was such a jerk."
His frame shook with a slight laugh. "Tell me about it. It's no problem."
Dark circles still sat beneath Anzai's forest-colored eyes from lack of sleep. I heard that he had been taking on extra shifts lately since one of his coworkers quit. It was part of the reason why he never had time to hang out with Yumiko and me these days. His brown hair was messy as if he hadn't bothered doing anything with it today. He was dressed in a simple blue hoodie and black pants. I thought the pants were a part of his uniform. He must have been on his way to the restaurant.
I wished that he would cut back a bit. A yawn escaped his lips; he looked like he could collapse there on the ground and take a nap if the school would let him. It was a wonder how he managed to balance school and work. He was a genius, they said. His classes were far more advanced and required more work as this was his last year of schooling before graduation. How he fit in working with studying was a skill in itself.
"How did you enjoy the anime?" he asked.
I beamed at the taller boy. He had no idea how many hours I had poured into the show. I had been so invested that I had stayed up late on school nights to finish the episodes. I had him to thank for the day I had almost fallen asleep in Japanese literature.
"It was top tier." I answered, pulling a book out of my already filled bag to give to him. "Oh, I forgot. Here you go."
He let out another laugh and waved his hands. "No, you keep it. Think of it as a gift."
I smiled. He let me know that he was on his way to his next class. After that, he had to work a small five hour shift. I made him promise me to catch up on some much needed rest. He smirked at that. He left further into the campus after we exchanged goodbyes. The poor guy was never going to give himself a break.
I watched quietly as he left. Why couldn't I have liked Anzai? He was a nice enough guy. He had a sense of humor that often made me laugh; he was so serious sometimes that his delivery came off as jokes. He was handsome enough to boot. He was also the smartest man I knew. He would have been the perfect guy if I had chose him. Unfortunately, it didn't work like that.
I shook my head in attempt to get the thought out. It was time to head back home. Maybe things happened for a reason.
'THIS BABY IS too ugly to be mine!'
I read the subtitles on the screen as Hideyoshi burst into a shaking fit of laughter. The television in front of us played a comedy show. The main character, a man with a dead end job, just came to the hospital after his wife had gone into labor while he was at work. He saw the baby and thought it looked nothing like him; his wife had been cheating on him. Apparently, Hideyoshi thought that it was the funniest scene in the whole show.
We sat with our legs crossed on the floor of Kaneki's apartment. His was a lot . . . darker than mine. His curtains were black, his bedspread was black, his furniture was black, and his walls were gray. He didn't seem to like the idea of introducing color into his space. It was very clean, though, unlike what one would have expected from a man's apartment. Everything was tucked away neatly and no trash laid littered around. A black bookshelf sat against the wall containing nearly one hundred stories that he had read or had yet to read. It was the only thing in the room that had a touch of personality.
He sat a bit away from us in silence. He was reading over one of my papers that I had asked him to help me on. He was making corrections and marking things that needed to be tweaked before I turned them in to my professor. He was currently going over one of my psychology papers. Though it had nothing to do with his major and he had no classes in the subject, he was still willing to give me a hand. I was grateful for his effort.
Hideyoshi and I made work of keeping his television occupied. It was one of our off days from class. We had agreed to come here to hang out comfortably instead of Anteiku. I had came over in a black hoodie and black leggings. A book sat in my lap, being half paid attention to. My hair was up in a discarded bun. I hadn't thought to come over looking my best seeing as how we weren't doing anything out of the ordinary.
Hideyoshi shook again with another round of laughter. Kaneki looked over at us with a raised brow. He hadn't even bothered to watch the show with us. Instead, his gaze darted to me, then to the book in my lap, then back up to me. His hands moved to write a message in our little communication notebook. He tossed it over to me and I nearly jumped from the scare.
'You've been reading a lot of romance lately,' the message said in observation.
I blushed. Hideyoshi leaned over to read it, too. He smirked, taking it from me to write down his own response. Had I really been reading it that much? I supposed the anime that Anzai got me into had been influencing my choice in genres as of late. There was just something about it that suddenly got entertaining to me.
'Both of you are such nerds, so it doesn't matter to me. It's all a bunch of words. Books are books,' Hideyoshi wrote, holding it up for us to read.
Kaneki rolled his eyes. I just shook my head. Be that as it may, the book that I was reading was genuinely interesting.
I wrote down on the notebook next. 'It's actually good. It's about a girl stuck in a love triangle. It's either her obnoxious friend or her brooding one.'
Hideyoshi smirked. 'Oh, really? If you had to pick between me or Kaneki, who would you pick?'
My eyes went wide. Kaneki rolled his eyes for the second time, his attention returning to my essay in his hands. I looked down to my hands in my lap. Should I have answered that question? While I truly did care for Hideyoshi, there was an answer to that question that should have been obvious. Maybe not to them, though.
I snuck a glance back over at Kaneki. He was already in the process of writing another message. 'Stop asking weird questions.'
He went back to reading the essay. I shrugged. Well, that was that.
I carried back on with the show, glad that the conversation was halted. I didn't really feel comfortable talking about it, anyways. At least, that was until Hideyoshi snuck me a note. My eyes nearly popped out of my head at what it said. I quickly looked over my shoulder to make sure Kaneki hadn't read it. He was nose deep into my paper, using his pen to make his subtle corrections in my grammar. I looked back over to Hideyoshi. He was already smirking at me.
'I knew you liked Kaneki.'
I crumpled the paper up in my hands. With a flick of my wrist, I threw the balled up note into the trash can. Hideyoshi laughed again. I sighed.
The cat was out of the bag now. I would have to talk to Hideyoshi about it later. There was no way he was going to let it go now that I had all but confirmed it to him. Whenever we got a chance to be alone. Hopefully, he wouldn't talk to our friend about it before I got the chance to.
After about twenty minutes, Kaneki passed the paper back to me. He explained that he put some additional thoughts and edits as sidenotes. He offered to reread it for me when I finished rewriting the paper. I gave him a quick thank you. He didn't have to help me with my work. But, he had told me that he was bored, all of his work was done, so he didn't mind having something stimulating to do. My psychology homework was interesting enough to him.
I stood up to gather my things. It was better for me to go work on it so that I could bring it back to him. Both boys watched me; Hideyoshi's thick brows pulled low in confusion.
'Where are you going? You're not staying?' he wrote on the page.
I shook my head, writing back, 'No. I'll be back later. I should go finish this up.'
Kaneki was the next to take the notebook. 'You can write it here. You don't have to go.'
'It's okay. I'm tired, anyways.'
Once I had everything, I walked over to the door. Hideyoshi stood up to follow me out. I guessed that he was going to walk me to my apartment even though it was next door. I slipped my shoes onto my feet at the entrance. Hideyoshi held out his arm to help steady me as I did so.
I quickly wrote one last note to Kaneki. 'Do you want to help me cook this weekend?'
He gave me a polite smile, replying, 'I can't. That's when my date is.'
Oh, yeah.
I nodded. I had forgotten that he was going to see Rize this weekend. In just two days, he would be off with another girl, starting their own chapters of romance. And I would be at home cooking that weekend alone. Maybe I would invite over Hideyoshi. He was always down for keeping me company, and he loved my food more than anyone. It sure beat being alone as I thought about what they would be doing.
I felt of twinge of jealousy. However, I forced myself to will it away. There could be no jealousy in a simple friendship. There was no room for that. I told him to fill me in on the date after it was over, and I left his apartment, Hideyoshi following behind me to make sure I got to mine safely.
He closed Kaneki's door. As we stood in the hall, he gave me a soft pat on the head. I was confused. Was it out of pity? Surely the scene that he just witnessed was enough to make anyone feel bad for me considering he knew now. He knew how I felt. He knew that I would do nothing but watch as the boy I liked went off to someone else.
He took the notebook from my hands to write down, 'If you care about something, set it free. If it comes back, it's yours. If not, it was never meant to be.'
I stared up at him. Since when had he become so poetic?
'I can't pursue him, anyways,' I replied with a sigh.
He shook his head after reading my words. 'You should tell him how you feel before he goes on that date. Let him be the one to decide. Don't make the decision for him. He's a big boy.'
'No. Like you said, I want him to make his own decisions . . . without my emotions getting in the way of that.'
It wasn't fair to him. I couldn't just come out and tell him before his date. He had planned everything so accordingly. He was so excited to see that girl of his dreams. I thought back to that day where he burst into my apartment talking nonsense about how he couldn't calm down. I couldn't do that to him-I just didn't have the heart. I couldn't ruin everything he worked to achieve . . . everything we worked to achieve. I couldn't throw our friendship away like it was nothing. It was too precious to me.
'So, you're going to let him go on that date?' Hideyoshi asked.
I nodded. At that, I put my head down, and walked into my apartment. For Kaneki, I would let him go a million times if that meant that I could be the friend he came back to. If it meant that I could be the one stable factor in his life that both of us could depend on, I would do it. If it meant that I got to keep him in my life, I would do it. If it meant that I had to hurt myself to keep him from hurting, I would do it.
A million times over.
That weekend I didn't even bother cooking. I wasn't in the mood to eat. I had spent the day inside. I hadn't talked to Hideyoshi, Yumiko, or anyone for that matter. I had spent the day to myself. It was a sad pity party. If any of my friends had seen me, they would have felt back for me. That was what I didn't want: anyone's pity.
I had just got out of the shower when I began watching the news. My hair was still wet from having been washed. Beads of water slid down the skin of my neck to wet the large tshirt that I was wearing. I had put on my pajamas for the night. Soon, it would be time for bed, and I could be whisked off into my dreams where everything went my way.
Videos of a crime scene flashed on the television. 'Today, we received news that there was another attack in Neruma, Tokyo. There is already one woman pronounced dead upon arrival. The victim, a young man, was transported to the hospital where he is to be undergoing surgery in attempt to save his life. He was found in critical condition. We are to be releasing more updates as we receive them.'
I winced at the address of the crime. It was pretty close to where I was-perhaps just a few blocks away. I felt bad for the boy. While I may have been having a bad day, no doubt his was going even worse.
My phone flashed from a notification. I picked it up from my chabudai table. I had expected it to be another text from Yumiko begging me to answer the phone. I hadn't been in the mood for talking today. I was in another one of my dramatic states.
However, the text message that came through hadn't been from my red-haired friend. Instead, it was a message from Hideyoshi in all caps. I felt the blood in my veins run cold. It felt as if the world had stopped spinning. It felt as if my heart had stopped beating in my chest, for the message that displayed on my screen made my reality crash around me.
'TURN ON THE NEWS! THAT'S KANEKI! HE'S IN THE HOSPITAL! I'M ON MY WAY THERE RIGHT NOW!'
No.
No. No. No.
I looked over at the television as it showed a street blocked off by yellow caution tape. There was no way. This had to be some kind of sick joke. He was just fine the last time that I had seen him. He had even texted me this morning asking if his outfit was first date worthy. I had never responded to his text due to my own selfish heart. It could have been the last time he had ever tried to talk to me. The last time . . .
It was all my fault.
Without bothering to put on a jacket or shoes, I grabbed my keys, and ran out of the apartment. I had to get to the hospital with Hideyoshi. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't speak. My mind was in a state of urgency-of desperation. I had to run faster. I had to get there. I had to get to him. I had to be there for him because I knew he would have been there for me.
This was all your fault, Nana . . .
Hello! So, I've decided that I'm going to put myself on an updating schedule so I can keep up with constancy. 'Forgiveness' will now be updated weekly every Sunday. I'm so excited to keep up with this new schedule and be more interactive! I also hope that you guys like the new story cover! I just think it's so well done and ties in with the story.
Fun Fact of the Chapter: Nana doesn't know how to drive.
