Understand Me Now (Suzu route Act 3-8)

Understand Me Now


Saturday morning--yes, morning, despite my best efforts--has arrived, and I'm standing at the train station with Hisao and Miki. My best friend tagged along to see us off, and as our train comes into view, she gently pulls me aside.

“Stop freaking out.” she says, peering at me intently.

“I'm not.” I lie. What's the opposite of freaking out? Freaking in? In where?

“Are too.” Miki says, and an idea comes to her. She gets that look in her eyes and a sly smile creeps across her face. Uh oh.

“Raise your hand and repeat after me.” She juts her chin in the air, lifting up her bandaged stump. Across the platform, I see Hisao staring at us, but Miki waves her hand, or what's left of it anyway, to recapture my attention.

“I, Suzu Suzuki...” She says, puffing her chest out. It only makes mine look smaller in comparison.

“I, Suzu Suzuki.” I mumble. This is dumb, I feel like a little kid.

“Promise to have a good time on this three day weekend with my awesome boyfriend.” She continues, and I echo her words, feeling a blush creep into my cheeks.

“And will say hi to my parents for my even more awesome friend Miki, who is not coming because three's a crowd and she has better things to do than keep me from making out in the fields behind my house.”

“Miki!” I wring my hands, my face is getting hotter. She's grinning widely now, her stump still raised in defiance of the handful--argh--of other people around.

She doesn't do things like this very often. A lot of the time she prefers to keep her bandaged wrist out of sight, tucking it in her pocket, leaving it hanging at her side. She's doing this for me. Okay, okay. I repeat her statement under my breath. Miki doesn't hesitate to laugh at my fussing, but then she rests her other hand on my shoulder, smiling fondly.

“And I, Suzu Suzuki...” She says, her voice growing quieter. “...promise to tell my boyfriend what happened to me last year. Because he's a good guy who won't think less of me, and because my best friend knows that I can do it.”

I look up into her eyes, as the cold morning air whips around us. She stares right back and then nods, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Come on.” She says softly. “You've been through worse.”

“Yeah.” I mumble. She's right, she's right. I have. And as rough as things are sometimes, even though I still end up injuring myself every once in a while and my dreams have gotten worse, this is nothing.

Talking about it will hurt. This will hurt. But not as much as it used to. Not as much as living it.

I can do this.

I return my best friend's nod and open my mouth to repeat her words, but she pulls me into another hug before I can. My friend Miki. I'll watch your back as we fight crime together for the rest of our days. Nights. Dreams.

A speaker announces our train's arrival, and we pull apart.

“Have fun, Suzu. You've got this. Give me a call tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” I nod again. “I probably won't be able to sleep anyway.”

“Oh, I don't know.” Miki grins as we begin walking back to rejoin Hisao, who looks like he's attempting to fall asleep while standing up.

“Hey.” She snaps the fingers of her good hand in front of him, and his eyes open wide.

“What, what?” He asks, looking around hazily. I feel kind of bad for dragging him here this early, although it's not really early at all. For us it is. Hisao has been slowly turning into more and more of a night person over the last week, to my secret delight. It's nice not being the only sleepy person in class, although he still works hard to make sure he doesn't fall behind. And he works hard to make sure I don't either, our small study group's meetings have begun to occur later and later in the evening. Soon, energy drinks will be a requirement. But now isn't the time to worry about exams. I'd rather not worry about them even when it is the time, but I know I will.

“Can I trust you two not to get into too much trouble, or am I going to have to hop on the next train?” Miki says to Hisao, pretending to give him the stink eye. Another phrase that I don't want to think too hard about the origin of.

“Of course not.” He replies, glancing at me for a moment. I smile, my face still a little red.

“I know who wears the pants in this relationship.” He adds, showing the faintest hint of a blush as well.

“I'm not wearing pants though.” I mumble, looking down at my outfit. A plain gray t-shirt and brown shorts, the same one that I wore to the track meet, what feels like a long time ago. If it ain't broke, don't... don't... how do you break a shirt?

“He was talking about me, Suzu.” Miki pats me on the shoulder. Our train screeches to a halt on the platform, and people begin shuffling forward.

“Oh.” I say, and then reach for my luggage. My bag is much smaller than Hisao's, which he hoists up with a grunt.

“Sure you've got everything?” He asks. I nod.

“I think you forgot the kitchen sink though.” I point at his bulging duffel bag, and he laughs nervously.

“I didn't really know what to bring. I, uh, want to make a good impression.”

“Ahh. You should!” I say, brightening. “Did I tell you that my dad was a bodybuilder?”

“No he wasn't.” Hisao visibly swallows. He glances at Miki, who nods enthusiastically.

“I watched him kill a man once.” She says. “He looked at Suzu wrong. He was actually blind, but he still managed to do it somehow.”

Hisao stares at her blankly, then looks back to me with grit teeth. I can't keep this up any longer, and burst into laughter.

“My dad's really nice." I say upon recovering. "My parents own a small business, he has a big desk and things like that.”

“He really did kill that guy, though.” Miki adds. “She was just asleep for that part.”

I shoot her a grin, but the doors on the train are opening and it's time for us to depart. Hisao lugs his bag over his shoulder, still looking a little nervous. It's cute.

Miki bids us farewell, giving me one last, long glance, and I return it. Then we make our way aboard the train, find some decent seats next to eachother, and settle in.


“I, for one, like your pants.” I say, leaning my shoulder against his. I don't really think anyone is really in charge in this relationship, both of us are pretty new to things like this, and my condition dictates things more than either one of us most of the time.

Hisao laughs, turning to smile at me. “And what about my sweater?” He asks.

“Sweater shmeater.” I reply. “I'm immune to its charms by now. It's like your superhero costume.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I don't feel very super.” He says.

“Well you are.” I mumble, resting my head on his shoulder. I can feel a nap coming on soon.

Hisao doesn't respond, he just continues giving me that gentle smile. It's a bit chilly in the dull, gray cabin, I bask in his warmth.

I close my eyes, unsure if I'll be able to open them again for a while. The constant, low rumble and occasional bumping of the train as it departs would be putting me to sleep if my narcolepsy wasn't perfectly capable of doing it already.

“Did you bring something to read?” I ask. “It's a long trip.”

“I did, yeah. Your parents live near Nagoya, right?”

“Mhmm.” I mumble. “A ways from the city. It's nice. Scenic. The ocean isn't too far away.”

“You love the ocean.” He says softly, and I nod, my eyes still closed.

“You never did tell me why. In fact,” From his tone, he's probably narrowing his eyes. “You never told me how you injured your knee either.”

With some effort, I open my eyes and look up at him, blinking heavily. My head feels heavy.

“Something about the waves.” I say, answering one question while pointedly ignoring the other. “About how everything is right in front of you, wide open. The whole world.”

I rest my head on his shoulder again and shut my eyes. “I don't know, I always felt like I was waiting for something.”

“Waiting for something?”

“Yeah.” I can barely manage more than a whisper now. “Waiting for my ship to come in.”

“And did it?” He asks.

“Maybe.” I say softly. I twist my neck and there's a crack, stretching my shoulders results in another dull pop, a reminder that boys with arrhythmia are much better for sleeping on than the floor of our classroom. With those kinks worked out, I sink forward and turn my body, laying the back of my head in Hisao's lap.

“Do you mind?” I ask, opening one eye to look up at him.

“No, I don't mind. Free real estate, go ahead.” Hisao tries to pass it off as being suave, but he's blushing. It's cute.

This is nice. Comfy. Warm. The train is carrying me away, and as long as Hisao is here, I don't think I have to worry about what I'll see behind my eyelids.

“I brought some of my textbooks so I could do a little studying during your down times anyway.” He says, and I can feel him reaching for his bag.

“Ha haa. I knew it.” I whisper, but the rumble of the train and the murmuring of the other passengers are getting further away. If he says anything else, I don't get to hear it.


My dream is something vague, something fuzzy, and it slips from my grasp as soon as I open eyes. I guess I can't complain. I wake up a little before we have to move to another train to continue our trip, Hisao holds my hand while I stumble behind him through the next station. After boarding, we once again find a decent spot and I collapse into my seat next to him. I yawn as the train begins to move, and we're on our way again.

“I can see why you don't make the trip home very often.” Hisao says, stretching out his arms in front of him.

“Yeah.” I reply, blinking heavily. I think... I think I'm going to be up for a bit. I think I'm good.

“You said you couldn't sleep at your parents' house, though?” He asks, glancing out the window at the passing countryside before looking back at me.

“Yeah.” I repeat. I focus my attention on my bag, digging out my book of Shakespeare. I hold it in my lap tenderly, staring at the cover.

Hisao is waiting for me to go on. My eyes flicker from the book in front of me to the boy beside me. Not yet. Not here. Please don't give up on me, Hisao. I'm going to say it.

“That's why I brought you along.” I manage a smile, opening the book. I quickly flip past the inscription on the inside cover, I keep going until I land somewhere in the middle of King Lear, one of my favorites.

“Hey, I asked to come, remember?” He says. He smiles back at me, but I'm pretty sure his is more real than mine. I stare at him for a long moment, and then close my book.

“When you meet my parents, just remember that you volunteered for this.” I wink. He grimaces for a second, but then that smile returns. I'm glad to see it again. I'm glad he's here with me. I wouldn't be making this trip without him, and although I would probably be okay with that, I think this is for the best. I think this might be what I need, not a long talk with my parents. I don't want that. What I need is a chance to get away and gather all my thoughts together. What I need is a little bit of time to get my head in the right spot, to lock everything down so it doesn't go flying all over the place and leave me a total mess when the time finally comes to open up to Hisao. What I need is you, Hisao.

And you're here. You wanted to be here.

I told you I was scared. I didn't tell you I was hurting but you figured that out too.

I wonder just how much of me you've figured out by now.

“I volunteered for you.” He says, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look up into those warm brown eyes.

“In more ways than one.” I mumble, and he smiles wider. He smiles wider. I don't want to go home. I don't want to go back to Yamaku, either. I want to stay here with him. I want to see that smile every time I open my eyes, everywhere I go. I don't ever want to lose... to lose that smile. To lose him.

I don't want to lose anything. I don't want to lose anyone, ever again. But I can. I probably will. I, I can wake up and find out that everything's changed, everything's ruined. I could wake up and he'll be gone, and he won't be coming back.

I want to run away from the very thought, I want to forget even the possibility. I want... I want to...

I set my book down on top of my bag, and then glance around our cabin. Everyone else is either asleep or reading things like newspapers, or gazing out the windows. Okay, all right. I turn back to Hisao, who's watching me curiously.

In one swift motion, I hop sideways from my seat into his lap, my feet resting in the empty space next to him. He grunts, but his smile doesn't waver.

“I'm not going anywhere.” He says softly, still looking straight at me. My eyes go wide.

I want to make him promise it. I want to kiss him there, in the train cabin, and I don't care how embarrassing it would be if people watched. What I don't want is to pass out and slump forward into his chest. But we don't always get what we want. Some of us don't get very much of what we want at all, actually. But it could be worse.

It could be worse.


The dull rumbling of the train is replaced by the steady roar of a bus.

“Any idea where to look for a new one once we get there?” The boy sitting next to me asks.

“I have no clue.” I mumble, feeling embarrassed. It was my mistake, I shouldn't have been carrying it over the concrete but I was, and it was my fault that it broke when I fell. My right shoulder still stings, but at least that doesn't need to be replaced. It would probably be a lot more expensive. More exciting, though, too.

“We'll figure it out.” He says with a smile, and I smile back.

He turns to look out the window of the bus, gazing at the view that scrolls by.

“Another beautiful day in the city.” He remarks. I nod, but... but something's wrong here. I wasn't on a bus, was I? I thought I was on a train. And I wasn't going in to the city, I was... I was going home. And why does just looking at him make me feel so sad inside? His messy, sea-green hair in the sunlight, his pale skin and tired eyes. I always feel fine when I'm with him, I always feel safe. So why do I want to cry?

“Seiji?” I ask quietly. The boy turns back to me, smiling despite how exhausted he looks.

“Almost there, Suki.” He says.


I wake up to the sensation of someone nudging me gently. The sound of the train and the people around us comes rushing back, and my eyes are met with the sight of the cabin roof.

Hisao's face appears in my vision, frowning in concern. “Hey, you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” I whisper, blinking a few times. I'm back. I'm here, I'm not there. I wipe my eyes, and my hands come away moist.

“Are you alright?” Hisao is still staring at me, looking worried. But I put the memory of my dream out of my mind, I lock it away somewhere out of sight, I don't want to think about it. Instead, I cling to the last good dream that I can remember, the one I woke up from this morning. When my alarm had finally roused me, I had just got done sneaking into Yuuko's secret bunker underneath the Shanghai with Stumpfist and The Heartbreaker to steal--er, liberate, her hidden cache of Herman Melville novels.

Wait, wait, you can't read in your sleep. I frown. Damn it, my plan is foiled.

That's what I want to dream about. That's where I want to be, nowhere else.

“I'll get you for this, Yuuko.” I mutter under my breath.

“You sound like a supervillian.” Hisao says, his concerned look gone.

“What? No.” I shake my head vigorously, sitting up. Hisao had moved over to give me enough room to lie down, putting my bag underneath my head as a makeshift pillow.

“You're really getting the hang of this.” I say, giving him a smile.

“And you're turning evil on me, apparently.” He pretends to study me carefully.

“No.” I repeat, shaking my head again. “I'm a superhero. Well, sidekick. Miki is Stumpfist.”

Hisao grins for a moment, then looks extremely guilty. But I grin back, and his expression brightens.

“A master of one handed combat? With--”

“A bunch of wrist attachments for swords and guns and stuff, yeah!” I finish the thought for him, and he's grinning again.

“Yes. Yes. I can see it, I think.” He nods.

“And you're The Heartbreaker.” I say, a little carefully. Hisao frowns for only a brief moment, but then laughs, shaking his head.

“We fight crime together, huh?” He asks. He's smiling, but still looks a little wistful. He's just about at the point where he can joke about his condition, I think. That's good. He deserves it for all the sleeping puns he's subjected me to over the time we've spent together. And besides, just like with Stumpfist, it isn't a bad thing, I'm not making fun of him. I think he understands that.

“That's right, we do.” I nod, and then pinch the fabric of his sweatervest with one hand. “I told you, superhero outfit.”

Hisao chuckles, closing his eyes. “And what's your secret identity?” He asks upon opening them.

“Huh.” Huh. I forgot to think about it. I still don't really have any good ideas.

“I guess I don't know. It's just that secret.” I shrug.

“How about Narcolepta?” Hisao grins, and I frown at him. Wait no, even better, I puff my cheeks out in my best Miki impression. Hisao's grin widens.

“Come on.” He says. “It's only fair.”

He has a point. Fine, fine. “Okay, Heartbreaker.” I say, my smile returning. My cheeks must not be as elastic as Miki's anyway, ow, ow.

Hisao grins. “You got it, Narcolepta.”

I laugh, but don't really know where to go from there. We sit in silence for a little while, just listening to the rumble of the train. Someone at the far end of the cabin is snoring. I'm nowhere near buses and cities and pain, pain, pain.

“Is that the kind of thing you dream about?” Hisao asks, picking back up where we left off.

“Sometimes. The good ones.” I reply. I wish it was all the time.

“And the bad ones?” He asks softly.

I stare at my lap, now I'm the one who looks wistful. I glance up at Hisao, then look over to the view outside the window. The silence drags on, another peek at Hisao shows him wearing the same expression as that night in front of the convenience store, where he knows I'm not going to tell him. That disappointed, sad expression. I hate it. I hate clamming up like this, but I...

I glance back at the countryside rushing past us beyond the window. Suddenly, I feel like there's a weight on my shoulders, like I'm deep underwater somewhere, and the pressure is tightening around my chest. I haven't told anyone about my dreams because there wasn't anything they could do about it, and they probably wouldn't believe me anyway. What was the point? I went to class. I fell asleep. I played battleship, and time just went on and on.

But that was then. This is now. I won that game, and I don't think I could have done it on my own. I don't think I could have done it without help.

I look back at Hisao.

His help.

“Skeletons.” I say simply. “And battleships and comets.”

The boy sitting next to me looks like he isn't sure whether to be happy that I've finally let him into my head a little, or to be concerned about the contents of my dreams. But before he can say anything, the scenery outside comes to an end, replaced by metal walls and cement.

The train slows to a stop, and an announcement over the speaker informs us that we've reached our destination.

“We're here.” I say, standing up and then immediately falling back into my seat. Stood up too fast, won't do that again, I just, I just need a second. Hisao gets to his feet, a little more carefully than me. He picks up his bag with one hand, frowning at the weight, and then extends the other hand to me.

I blink a few times, fighting off a sudden wave of fatigue, we're not even at my house yet and I've already slept too much. I take his hand, smiling despite the tugging behind my forehead, and he pulls me up.

“Thanks.” I look Hisao in the eyes, and he stares back at me thoughtfully.

“Thank you.” He says, and I try not to let my smile falter. I know he means for telling him about my dreams, if only a little bit. I know he means for letting him in.

Baby steps are better than none. Hisao is a patient guy, the only kind that could ever date someone with a condition like mine, I guess. Despite the cloud of unsaid things that now rests between us, we hold hands as we make our way off the train and into the station.


People buzz and press around us on all sides, my grip on Hisao's hand tightens. The floors here are not my friends, and neither are the crushing feet of the crowds around us. Hisao is frowning in determination and I realize that he's concerned as well, if someone were to bump into his chest here it could end with him in the hospital.

I let go of his hand, and he glances over at me in surprise. With a determined look, I speed up to walk in front of him.

“I'll be your shield.” I say with a tired grin. “If you promise to catch me.”

Hisao blinks. “Maybe you really are a superhero.” He replies after a moment.

“Sidekick.” I say, and begin walking. I know the station better than him anyway. Hisao follows close behind, and eventually we reach the parking lot, where the crowds are thinner. We come to a stop, and I scan the rows of cars, looking for a familiar, beat-up old brown station wagon. My parents could probably afford a better ride, but my dad got quite a good deal for it and I think that alone has made him more attached to it than he should be.

I spot the family car just as it's pulling into the lot, and quickly turn to Hisao. He looks a little tired, he looks... he looks familiar. Right.

I set my bag down. “Hold still.” I mumble, and reach for his tie to straighten it.

“What are you doing?” He asks, but I bite my lip. I brush a little dust off of his vest, he frowns uncomfortably as I try in vain to smooth his messy hair.

“Suzu. Why.” He grimaces at me, but this stupid cowlick won't go down.

“I think it's alive.” I mumble, giving it another tug.

“Suzu.” Hisao repeats, and I give up.

“Is your dad the type who will think less of me if I don't look perfect?” He asks, looking uneasy. Maybe he still thinks my father is a bodybuilder? Ha.

“No, that's not it.” I reply, looking at the faint bags under his eyes, the tiny hint of dark rings hanging around them. He looks a lot like him. A lot like Seiji. He always has, although I didn't notice it at first. But I know my dad will.

The car comes to a stop in front of us, and I can see that my father is the only one inside. He opens the door and steps out, trying hard to look neutral, if not a little grumpy. But I can see the sparkle in his dark brown eyes, and I can't stop a smile from forming on my face.

My dad looks like any other average, middle-aged businessman. His short, close-cropped hair is the same color as mine but a few shades darker, his height and build are both medium. Normal? Is that a better way to say that? I don't know. He's wearing a faded sports jacket and black pants, his face is streaked with laugh lines, although the ones across his forehead hint that he's been a part of the working world for a long, long time.

He tries harder and harder to keep his expression neutral as he walks up to us, but luckily, I have no such problem.

“Hi, dad.” I say, giving him a hug.

“I think you've grown a little, girly.” My father replies warmly. His hugs are like Hisao's but, I don't know, manlier. Rougher around the edges. My dad hugs like someone who knows he doesn't have as many things to hug as he used to, so he'd better do it while he can. Or am I just thinking about this too much? I don't think there's, like, a hug doctrine. With hug monks meditating on the proper technique and trying to get to Hugvana. Okay, time to come back, this is a long hug. Although I would have gone for hug monk if it had been an option on the career survey.

“More like you've started to shrink.” I reply, and he scoffs in mock outrage. We pull apart, and I remember the boy standing a few feet away, looking uncomfortable.

Oh, right. “Dad, this is--”

“This must be Hisao.” My father says, turning to face him.

It happens, like I thought it would. My dad takes in the sight of my boyfriend, trying again to maintain a neutral expression, but for different reasons than before. If it was anyone else, he would probably be throwing on a tough guy act and start jokingly probing him for information, but it's not.

Hisao looks like he's already failed some sort of test, but he soldiers on. Go, Heartbreaker, go.

“Hello, you must be Suzu's father.” Hisao says, sticking out his hand only a little awkwardly. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“So you are, and so it is.” My dad replies without skipping a beat. He suddenly looks older and a lot more tired, but he gives him a polite smile.

“Susumu Suzuki, at your service.” He says, shaking Hisao's hand. His smile fades to a gentle, knowing look as he turns back to me, but then he returns to his usual self. My dad corrals us into the car, talking about the lunch that my mother is preparing for us as we speak.

“Did I do something wrong?” Hisao asks quietly as he straps himself into the backseat of our worn-out old car. I shake my head.

“Don't worry about it.” I say, and then we're off.



The trip doesn't take too long. On the way, my father takes the time to fill me in on things that have been going on in the area, how the family business is doing, stuff like that. Hisao stares out the window in between answering the occasional innocent question, the interrogation is coming later, I'm sure. I give him a nudge.

“Never seen a tree before?” I ask.

“Is that what those are called?” He retorts, and I grin. In the rear view mirror I can see my dad smiling as well, I knew they would get along. They both have a tendency to be smart alecks.

We arrive at the house, a medium-sized, cream colored building surrounded by a stone fence. Trees, flowers and vines are planted all around it, a hobby of my mother's, and one I never really shared her interest in. Hisao looks a little lost as we step through the gate, if Yamaku was a change of scenery for him I imagine this would probably be a whole different world. But I like it out here, the green is calming, the air is clean and sweet. And the ground, the ground is soft, the way I like it.


Hisao follows me through the front door. The first thing a visitor would notice about our house is the abnormally thick carpet. The second thing Hisao probably sees is the careful lack of any protruding edges or corners on every piece of furniture. Even though I know I won't be getting much sleep here at night, part of me begins to relax, because ever since I was a kid, this house has been meticulously designed so that almost every single spot is a good place to take a nap.

“Beautiful, doting wife!” My dad calls as we remove our shoes in the entrance hall. “I have returned with our errant daughter and her chosen mate!”

Hisao and I both blush at the term “mate”, but we shake it off. My father wanders into the kitchen, but Hisao gets distracted by the pictures placed along a wooden cabinet.

“That's you?” He asks, leaning in to get a better look. My heart begins to beat faster, but he's peering at a picture of me with my parents.

“That might be me, yeah.” I say. In the photo, a little girl stands between two smiling adults. She's fast asleep, but the man and woman are each holding one of her arms, propping her up.

“You were pretty cute.” He looks at me, grinning, but I make a pouty face.

“What do you mean 'were'?” I complain, and he laughs.

“Children!” My dad's voice calls out. “I'm sure you require nutrients from your long journey. Come join us!”

Hisao shakes his head at me, furrowing his brow, but still smiling. “You told me he was a bodybuilder.” He says.

“He could still kill you. Watch out.” I grab him by the hand and lead him to the dining room, where a small banquet is laid out across the wooden table, the edges of which are coated in a soft, rubber-like plastic. It's been carefully molded to still match the relaxed, refined appearance of the rest of the house.

A somewhat older woman is carrying the last of the plates from the kitchen. “My daughter is up before noon?” She exclaims as she goes about setting the table.

“I told you it was worth it to buy that goat.” Dad says. He's donned a pair of reading glasses and is glancing over the morning paper.

“You did not sacrifice a goat just to help me make a train.” I say, taking a seat and motioning for Hisao to do the same.

My father curls the top of the paper to peer at me dramatically. “Where do you think this lovely lunch came from?” He asks, and I laugh.

“This is pork, dad.” I squint at the food set out in front of us. At least, I'm pretty sure it is. 90% sure. And, um, if it tastes good, I guess it doesn't matter anyway.

“Just keep telling yourself that.” My father mutters, going back to his paper. Next to me, Hisao is shaking his head again, but he's still looking uncomfortable. I realize that he hasn't been fully introduced yet.

“Mom, this is Hisao. Hisao, mom.”

My mother looks a lot like me, but older, of course. Her hair is a little lighter than mine and cut fairly short, although right now it's tied back in a ponytail. She might look like a normal housewife right now, dressed in a powder blue, button-up shirt and white khakis, but the creases around her dark green eyes are proof of the decades she's spent running the family business alongside my father.

“Hello.” She gives him a polite nod, and the boy beside me returns it.

“Nice to meet you. Thank you for having me here.” He says.

“So polite.” My mother smiles, turning to me. “A gentleman is just what you need.”

Again, the two of us are blushing. I knew introducing my boyfriend to my parents would be awkward, but at least I get to have a nice lunch of goat meat as a consola--no no, this is definitely pork. It looks like pork. It smells like pork.

“My name is Sasami Suzuki, but you can just call me the babysitter, since it's my biggest responsibility these days.” Mom says to Hisao, and my dad scoffs.

“You'll learn to take her words like you take her cooking, Hisao. With a grain of--” He dodges a hastily thrown slipper, and then grins cheesily.

“Well, what do you say we dig in?” He says, and my mother rolls her eyes. I always like seeing them bicker like this, although I know they're both putting on a little more of a show than usual for Hisao. My mom is usually the serious one but when my dad manages to get her going, she can match him blow for blow. Supposedly he had to do a lot of things to prove his worth and manliness in order to win her heart when they were younger, but I was never sure just how much of those stories I was supposed to believe.

My mother begins distributing the food around the table, and just as I'm about to find out whether I'm about to actually taste goat meat or not, the plate in front of me vanishes. I'm plunged face first into sleep, and, probably, my lunch.


Cars fly by us on the street, and I instinctively grimace. The sun's rays pour down from above, I feel hot and tired and more than a little lost. The boy beside me tightens his grip on my hand.

“That store was around here somewhere, right?” He asks, shielding his eyes from the sun with his free hand.

“I don't know.” I say, looking around hazily. I don't... I don't remember... I feel so tired, but this is a bad place to fall asleep, I think... I think I need to sit down, just for...

Just as I remember that something is very, very wrong here, my dream pulls away from me. I spend a long while in a sweet, blissful black, where nothing happens, where nothing falls. Nothing goes away, and never, ever comes back.


By the time I wake up, several hours have passed. I find myself sprawled on the couch, ohh, what a comfy couch this is. How I've missed you. Maybe we can sneak you back to Yamaku somehow, I would need a little help getting you on the train, but--

“There you are.” Someone says. I take a pause from getting reacquainted with my old friend and look up. Hisao is sitting in the chair next to the couch, ohh, what a comfy chair that--no, no, I must stay loyal to the couch. Although the chair would probably be easier to smuggle back to school, hmm.

Hisao sets down his textbook, I'm sure he was having a lovely time, and looks back over at me.

“Welcome back.” He says.

“I'm so hungry.” I groan, feeling my stomach echo my complaint. Hisao smiles apologetically.

“You missed lunch, sorry. And dinner.”

“Was it really goat?”

He shrugs. “I couldn't tell.”

“It is a mystery.” I mumble, and then bury my face back in the couch. Comfy and hungry is better than hungry and... not comfy. Uncomfy.

“You're dad's a pretty... interesting guy.” Hisao says.

“Ophf yeapf?” I reply, my voice muffled by fabric.

“Yeah.” He says, displaying impressive interpretation skills. “He gave me a beer.”

Okay, I have to hear where this goes. I turn around to face him. “Really?”

Hisao nods, frowning. “Uh huh. And then after I drank it, he told me it was poisoned, and he would only give me the antidote if I swore to never do anything to you when you were asleep.”

I laugh, that sounds like something he would do. “Did you accept?”

“I told him he didn't need to use threats to get me to make a promise like that.” Hisao says, looking me in the eyes. I stare back for a few seconds.

“That's just because you already know Miki would kill you if you did,” I mumble, but I can feel myself blushing.

“At least Miki would kill me to my face instead of using something like poison.” He replies. I giggle, and then sit up on the couch.

“Hisao.” I say, patting the space beside me. “Get over here. Please.”

He complies, escaping from the clutches of the chair to sit down next to me. I lean into him, laying my head on his shoulder, and he rests his head on mine.

“Your parents are nice, Suzu.” He says softly. “And your house is nice, too. It's really...”

“Soft.” I mumble, and he chuckles.

“Yeah. Soft.”He pauses, probably to look around the living room, as it begins to grow dark as the evening goes on.

“This must be what it's like to grow up being different.” He says.

“Something like it.” I almost expect him to say something about how he's sorry for me having my condition, but he doesn't.

“I'm glad you've got Miki.” He says after a little while of just sitting there together. I gently pull my head away, and he turns to look me in the eyes.

“I'm glad I've got you, too.” I say. He almost grimaces for a second and I don't know why, but then he responds.

“What did I do to deserve meeting a girl like you?” He asks, maybe more to himself than to me.

“I don't know.” I reply, giving him a tired smile. “What did you do?”

“I had a heart attack.” He chuckles bitterly, and my eyes go wide.

“It's what put me in the hospital. It's what brought me to Yamaku.” He says quietly.

“It's what brought you to me.” I try to retain my smile, but it's difficult. He told me about his condition, he never told me he had a heart attack.

“Yeah.” Hisao smiles back, but he doesn't look much better off than me.

“I guess we're both kind of lucky, huh?" He says softly. “My heart. Your head. We're both lucky in the worst possible ways.”

“What a world.” I whisper, but before he can respond I pull him to me. Ties come in handy every once in a while.

Our lips meet gently and we begin to kiss, there, sitting beside eachother on the couch. I close my eyes and stop thinking, stop worrying and wondering. We part, I lower my head and he kisses my forehead softly. In this moment, we aren't desperate for eachother's touch, we aren't craving passion and pleasure. We're just two people hurting, and being around eachother makes us hurt a little less.

I rest my head against his chest, and for the first time, I notice his irregular, disjointed heartbeats. Hisao stiffens as he realizes I can actually hear his condition in action, but I nuzzle my face closer.
“Is it weird?” He asks, sounding depressed. Now he reminds me of how he was when we first met. But he's changed so much since then, we've both changed so much. I guess I must have helped him change somehow, because he's certainly helped me.

“No.” I reply quietly. “It's perfect.”


We stay there for a little while, I continue to listen to his heart and just enjoy being with him. He begins stroking my hair, a little unsteadily at first, but he grows bolder when he decides that I like it. And I do, it's always been soothing to me, it makes my head grow quiet. Everything grows quiet.

Eventually my stomach begins to interrupt the peaceful silence again, and we disentangle ourselves from the couch and from eachother, limping to the kitchen to prowl for leftovers.

I still can't tell if the food that we eat is goat or not, I make him promise to remind me to ask Miki what goat tastes like when we get back. He'll probably forget, but I'll probably forget too so it's all right.

By now it's dark, my parents come down from their office on the second floor. Knowing that we're both tired from our trip, they probably decide to put off the interrogations a little bit longer, and I walk with my dad as he shows Hisao to the room he'll be sleeping in.

To my relief, it's the spare bedroom, not... not the room next to mine. Dad bids us goodnight, and mutters something about having to find out where he put “the real antidote” as he walks away.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye for now.” Hisao says, smiling tiredly down at me.

“Yup.” I mumble. I don't really want to sleep alone. I don't want to upset my parents, but chances are that I either won't sleep at all or that I'll go back to any one of the unsettling places I've been going in my dreams lately. I don't want that. I want Hisao.

“I'll see you soon, okay?” He says, glancing around the hallway before leaning towards me. I take the hint, planting a light peck on his lips. I wouldn't mind more, but he looks absolutely exhausted, just like I feel. Maybe we could... maybe we could be exhausted together, or...

“Goodnight.” Hisao says, stepping into the room and slowly closing the door.

Oh. I think I feel disappointed, but I feel more tired than anything else. A lot more. Tired, that is. Than anything else, that is. I don't even know anymore. I trudge down the hall to my room, where I don't bother to turn on the lights, I slip out of my shorts and fall into my bed. Ohh, what a comfy bed this is. How I've missed you.

What I haven't missed is the lingering doubts and aching memories that press me on all sides, even in the dark, even with how worn out I feel.

I don't sleep a wink that night. I dismiss even thinking about crawling to the kitchen to get ice for my knee, it's a holiday after all. I recover my phone and give Miki a call like I promised, we chat for a bit about my dad's antics and the trainride over. Eventually she has to go to bed, and I lie about having to do the same thing myself. We hang up, and I try my best to feel nothing but the blankets around me and the pillow beneath my head, until the sun comes back up.



The next day, my narcolepsy takes care of what the rest of myself couldn't, and I spend half the day drifting in and out of sleep. I only catch occasional glimpses of a city street, a flash of sea-green hair, a warm smile. I will myself to stay awake with all my might as my dreams slowly creep forward.

My father offers to take us to the amusement park that's not too far away, but I don't feel up to going on rides or eating fancy foods. And besides, I know now that Hisao isn't able to go on roller coasters, but I don't mind too much. I don't need to get back the Hisao that I spent that night with. The one I have now, the one who stays at my side, dutifully crunching through study work while I spend my time in dreamland and then making gentle jokes at my expense, that's the Hisao that I want.

The day goes by quickly, and not just because I slept through half of it. My mother presses Hisao about his plans for the future during dinner and I squirm. When it becomes my turn for those kind of questions, I pretend to see the Stump Signal in the window behind her and go limp, but she sees through it. She instructs Hisao to pour some water on me and I swear to god he was going to do it, but I surrender and open my eyes before he can. Hisao stares at me in disbelief while I assure him that I've never pretended to pass out on him--to my memory, at least--and then I sit and nod and shake my head as my mother gives me another lecture about finding my future and the different colleges she's been looking into that would be a good fit for me. I think Hisao is actually paying more attention than me, he looks intrigued by some of the things she says, but I just go blank, I just wait and endure until she's finally done and we come to an agreement that really doesn't mean or change anything. She'll probably try to catch me when I'm alone, before we have to go back to school tomorrow.

But dinner comes to an end, and I manage to get out of helping my mother with the dishes with the aid of a strategically timed nap. This one is for real. Although I wish it wasn't.


“I think we're lost.” He says, still managing to sound cheery about it.

“Tell me something I don't know.” I mutter, each step through the city streets making my legs feel like they're made of stone.

“Leonardo da Vinci left behind less than 30 completed paintings.” He says, raising his eyebrows.

“And Leo Tolstoy had both syphilis and gonorrhea, but died of pneumonia.” I retort, grinning despite how exhausted I feel. He cringes at the thought, but then laughs.

“I knew that one, actually.” He says.

“And I knew yours. You need to get new ones.”

“There was only one da Vinci.” He shrugs.

We continue walking through the streets. This far away from the school, no one pays any special attention to the Yamaku uniform, and since we both look normal enough, we don't attract any stares. There aren't that many people out and walking around at all, actually, we have the sidewalks mostly to ourselves. Here though, I think I know where we are, I think I recognize that...

That shop. That corner.

This place.

“Seiji.” I say quickly, panic seizing my throat. “Seiji, sit down.”

“What are you on about, Suki?” The boy beside me asks, giving me a confused smile.

“Please, please, sit down. You have to. You have to!” I cry, grabbing him by the shoulders. He stares at me, uncomprehending.

“I don't feel like I'm about to go dark, Suzu.” He says.

“And besides, even if I do, I've got you here to catch me, right?”



“Hey.” I prod Hisao awake, he's slumped over in one of the chairs with a magazine draped over his face.

“Huh. What.” He comes back to life, and I offer what I hope isn't a bitter smile. He looks like he was having a nice dream. A normal dream, anyway. I'm jealous.

“Can you come with me?” I ask now that both of us are wide awake. I am. I know I am. If he isn't, he will be soon.

He will be soon.

“Where are we going?” He yawns, but then peers at me carefully. Something is wrong, and he knows it.

Something has been wrong for a long time. A year, in fact.

“Come on.” I say quietly, motioning towards the front hall.

“I want to see the sun set over the power lines.”

Hisao follows me, frowning with concern, but wanting to see where I'm going with this.

“Are we going for a hike?” He asks as we begin putting our shoes on. I don't respond, my heart is beating faster in my chest, I can almost hear the blood rushing in my ears.

When we're done, we stand up. Hisao's gaze wanders to the row of photos near the door again, draped in the orange light of the setting sun.

He frowns. He takes a step closer, leaning in. And then begins turning towards me.

“I didn't know you had a --”

He stops dead when he sees the look on my face. But I'm not about to break down here. I'm not going to cry for the ten thousandth time. Not here, anyway.

I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of hurting. I'm tired of dreaming, I'm tired of being awake.

“I'm so tired, Hisao.” I let the words escape my mouth and he steps forward immediately, but I take a step back.

I reach for the door, twist the handle, and pull it open, warm summer air rushes towards us.

“I need to show you something.” I say. Hisao grimaces, he looks wounded on my behalf. Any other day I would try to smile at him and tell him that I'm fine, that it could be worse. But not today.

It could always be worse. And it's time for him to find out how.


Our feet crunch along the gravel road as we walk. Together with the occasional call of a bird in the trees that surround us, it's the only sound. Neither of us say anything.

Although we usually walk side by side, Hisao follows a few steps behind me. He doesn't know where he's going and he doesn't know what to say to me right now, anyway. That's okay. The most important thing is that he listens, that he understands.

Actually, I don't know if he'll understand. I don't know if many people would. But I know he'll try.

It's not a long walk. Only a few twists and turns in the road later, we arrive.

Before us, the path ends, splitting into several long, winding driveways, the houses they lead to are far out of sight. In the sky above us dangle black webs of power lines, their tall, metal constructions--pylons, that's what they're called--spread out around us.

There's a faint crackling of electricity in the air, a warm hum. I let the sound envelop me. I haven't been here since... since the day before I arrived at Yamaku.

That day, and every day before when I was too afraid, he had taken me here. We watched the sun set, and I imagined that I could drink in the energy in the air all around me, I pretended I could soak it up, store it, so I could stay awake and face the world.

I close my eyes. It was just a silly superstition when I was a kid, but we kept coming back here, whenever I was scared. And I never came back after that day, because even though I was scared--I was scared of everything, I was scared of anything. Even though I was scared, I didn't have the strength to come here on my own.

I open my eyes again, turning around to face Hisao. The deep, orange sky bathes us in warm light, the air hums all around us.

Seiji.

Give me the strength to do this. Please.

Even after what I did to you.

“Do you have any siblings, Hisao?” I ask quietly.

He shakes his head, his hands hanging limply at his sides. “I'm an only child.”

I don't know if that makes this easier or harder. Probably harder.

I open my mouth, then close it again. Although all the second and third years at the school probably know the story, I've only ever told my version of it to a few people. Miki. My parents. The therapists that tried to help me sleep at night again. And my brother Seiji, as I begged his forgiveness every night in my dreams for the next two months.

“I had one.” I say softly, staring at the gravel in front of me. I would look up at Hisao, but I don't want to see his reaction yet.

“An older brother. His name was Seiji.”

Hisao doesn't say anything, waiting for me to go on. He's waited a long time to hear this, I guess. I can't stop now. Even if this was a mistake, even if I should never have brought him here, I can't stop now.

“He was a year older than me. We both had the same condition. We both had narcolepsy.”

I glance up at Hisao to see him staring at me intently, eyes narrowed in a mixture of concern and... and pain. But then I look down at the ground again.

“It can run in families. Neither of my parents have it, but we were both diagnosed at the same time. We... it was weird.” I smile at the memory, even as I feel the tears begin to come.

“Our timing was perfect. Whenever I was asleep, he'd be awake. He'd keep an eye on me. And then, when he fell asleep, I was always awake. We looked after eachother. We took care of eachother.”

I steal another look at Hisao, he's wearing a pained smile, but still doesn't interrupt. I don't want to lose my momentum, I have to get this out.

“Not always, of course. Sometimes we were both gone. And he was older, so he was in a different class, I... I didn't go anywhere without him. He fell sometimes too, but he never seemed to get hurt as bad as I did. He gave me that book of Shakespeare, so that I would have it to wake up to whenever he couldn't be there instead.” I smile again, but my lips are trembling, my eyes are burning.

Don't stop, the electricity in the warm air urges. Miki says I can do this. I have to do this.

“When he graduated junior high and went to Yamaku, I was all by myself.” I let out a strained little laugh. “I pretended to be tough, I made everybody scared of me.”

Hisao laughs with me, just a tiny bit. “You? A delinquent?”

I nod, and then sniffle. “Yeah. The, the boys in my class, they would hang out by the stairs just because they knew I wouldn't bother them there. They never kicked me or stole my stuff when I was asleep because they were afraid of what I would do when I woke up.”

I laugh again, but a tear runs down my cheek. “I pretended to be angry and scary, but I was the one who was really scared. I was terrified. I was scared of everyone there, I didn't have any friends. So when. So when I...”

Tears begin rolling down my face, Hisao takes a step forward but I shake my head. I can't stop yet.

“When I finally graduated from there, I was ready to go to Yamaku. My brother was, Seiji was always telling me how nice it was, how different. People didn't laugh at you for falling asleep everywhere, they didn't call you names or think you were drunk.”

“But I was still scared to go there. I didn't know anybody, I didn't know what to expect. But Seiji was there. And I knew that, if he could do it, I could do it. If I... if I had him there...” I choke back more tears.

“And he was right.” I say, staring somewhere deep in the distance. “Everyone at Yamaku was nice. They're just like everyone else, really. But they understand. They, they have their own problems. And I wasn't scared. Seiji and I went everywhere together, they....” I chuckle, and then wipe my eyes, but to no avail.

“They called us the Snoozuki twins.” My voice trembles.

Hisao takes another step forward, his mouth open in a pained expression. I shuffle a tiny step back.

“So that's why you don't like it when people call you Snoozu.” He says softly. I nod, trying to wipe my eyes again.

“F-first year was a lot of fun.” I resume shakily. “I met some neat people, but no one really all that interesting. We didn't need other people.” Being an only child, I don't think he can know what it's like to follow in an older sibling's footsteps. Seiji could do anything. And even when he couldn't, he never gave up, he accepted every defeat with a smile, he laughed as I would bandage a cut, he shushed me softly as I whimpered when he did the same for me. We had eachother. We took care of eachother.

“And then second year happened, and Miki arrived.” I smile a little bit, finding a trove of warm memories untouched by guilt.

“That's when you met Miki?” Hisao asks. I nod. I laugh.

“She was a lot like me, when I was still in junior high and by myself. She was scared, and she was angry. And she was angry because she was scared.”

“That sounds a lot like her, actually.” He says softly. I nod, I laugh again, and then sniff.

“She almost beat a few people up. She almost beat Seiji up when we tried to get to know her, but he fell asleep before she could.” I smile widely now, my face still streaked with tears.

“It pissed her off. That someone could just be completely normal and then the next second, be completely vulnerable. It wasn't fair, she said.”

“It wasn't fair.” I whisper. But then I pick back up, I won't stop here.

“So she started hanging out with us. She kept an eye on both of us when we fell asleep at the same time, it was fun.”

“But then.” I look up the sky, the edges of which are starting to show a dark purple. It will be dark before too long. The stars will come out.

Maybe there will be comets.

“We went into the city. Just the two of us.” I say, and Hisao looks like his breaths have quickened.

“It... it...” I've hit a wall. A wall I built myself, and I sealed it with nightmares and skeletons and games where all my fears were divided into neat little turns of shooting into the dark.

“It...” Again, I try to find the words, but it feels like dredging something up from the bottom of the ocean, instincts are shouting at me to stop, to be quiet, to make something up and lie and run away again. I blink, and Hisao is standing right in front of me.

“Suzu.” He says, looking down at me. “It's okay.”

“It wasn't anything!” I cry, a dam of tears bursting in my head. “It was just a trip into the city, it was like any other weekend, there was no reason or purpose or anything, I just--”

Hisao's arms are around me, pulling me close. His embrace envelops me, but I just cry harder and louder.

“I fell asleep and when I woke up there was, there was so much blood and no one was around and he wouldn't--” Hisao tightens his grip on me, saying nothing, but the hum of electricity does the job for him, a gentle but insistent noise, spurring me on.

“He wouldn't wake up.” I whimper, Hisao's sweatervest growing damp beneath my face. “He wouldn't wake up.”

“Suzu, it's--”

“And it was my fault because I was supposed to be there for him, I was supposed to watch him and he was always there for me but the one time--”

“Shh, Suzu, sshh, it's--”

“--the one time he actually needed me and I wasn't there for him!” I wail, my head feels hot, my face is red and wet and there's nothing else in the whole world but the boy who holds me in his arms and the memory of the one I let down.

It was because of me that we went into the city anyway. It was my idea, it was to replace some stupid little thing that I broke. It was my fault. My mother wept and wept, my father, who always laughed everything away, who was never bothered by anything, even he wept too. It should have been me. It should have been me, who fell asleep and hit their head on the hard cement in the street. It was my fault.

It was all my fault.

“It's okay, Suzu. It's... it's okay.” Hisao doesn't know what to say, of course, who would? What are you supposed to say? What can anyone say?

“I...” I try to tell him that I had nightmares after that, but I don't have the words. I don't have any strength anymore, I don't have the strength to tell him that I saw my brother's sea-green hair, dyed a deep red, every time I closed my eyes, that I woke up screaming and crying in the night and my parents put me in therapy, desperate not to lose the only child they had left. I did everything I could to stop sleeping, I took pills, I guzzled coffee and energy drinks and it wasn't until...

...It wasn't until I started seeing him there, in my dreams, that my life began to calm down. Not a peaceful calm. A resigned, quiet calm. Like a funeral.

In my dreams, Seiji wasn't there, lying in the city street anymore. He was sitting across from me at a little table. He was smiling. He offered to play a game we had played together as children, some silly little thing that kept us occupied when our parents were too busy to go places with us.

I remember now. That's how it started. But I couldn't keep that up, I couldn't keep seeing him like that, like he was still fine and happy to see me. I didn't deserve it.

So he changed, over time. My dreams changed, and instead of being scared of everything and everyone, I just grew cold, I just grew empty. I still laughed and joked with my friends, I still had fun with Miki. But I wasn't the same person anymore. I didn't think I could ever be the same again.

Eventually, Seiji was gone, and a hooded skeleton became my opponent. He made cruel jokes, he taunted and teased me, he constantly reminded me that it could be me, next.

It was what I wanted. It was what I deserved.

Is it still what I deserve? Is it... is...

These months of happiness. Slowly coming back to life as Hisao began to do the same in front of me. Is it fair? Is it right?

I don't think it is. I don't think so. But the boy who holds my shaking body close to his would probably disagree. And he's a lot like my brother, sometimes, and, and Seiji knew everything and was almost always right.

“I'm sorry.” I whisper, to my brother, to Hisao, to my parents and myself and anyone else who should hear it.

“No more apologizing.” Hisao says firmly. He backs away, just enough so that he can look down into my eyes, and I stare back up into his. Those warm brown eyes.

He doesn't smile. He doesn't crack a joke, or, or do anything like that.

“Thank you.” He says, and I feel myself beginning to cry again. “Thank you.”

I sink back into his hug, clinging to him. After what feels like a long while, I notice that the sun has set completely, and around us, only the dark remains. I don't look up at the stars. I don't watch for comets.

“Take me home, Hisao.” I say into his chest. “Please.”


When we get back to the house, it's completely dark, except for the living room lamp that's been left on. I switch it off and then continue straight to my room, pulling Hisao with me by the hand the whole way. We don't say a thing as we step inside, and for once, I don't have a problem sleeping in my own house. The world melts away the second my head hits the pillow, the warmth of Hisao's body next to me dissipating.


“Come on, Suzu.” My dad is calling from the top of the stairs. “We need your help moving this. With you headed to Yamaku too, now's our best chance to get the upstairs sorted out.”

“I don't want to.” I mumble. Every step is coated in thick carpet, but even then, I don't use them very often. When I was diagnosed with narcolepsy, my parents rearranged the rooms in the house, moving my bedroom to the first floor. I remember crawling up the stairs on my stomach as a child, taking them one at a time. Even though I'm not awake to feel the brunt of the pain from a fall, I wasn't the adventurous type even back then. When I had to go upstairs I did it slowly and carefully, and when I came down, I often slid on my backside, afraid of tumbling down the entire way. And besides, now I'm about to go to a weird new school, full of weird new people. I'm scared of more than just the staircase, I'm scared of the absolute unknown I'm about to be thrown into.

“Suzu, please. It's too heavy for just us.” My father's words begin to take a rare note of authority, but someone else steps in.

“I'll get her.” Another male voice says, this one much younger.

I watch as my brother descends the staircase. He makes it look easy, he makes it look like it's nothing at all. Finally, he reaches the bottom step, and then looks up at me, smiling brightly.

“Come on, Suki.” He says, offering me his hand. “You can do it. I'm right here with you.”

I don't know why, but I begin to cry, tears rolling down my cheeks. Sniffling, I try to fight them back in vain, but his smile never wavers.

“You're being silly.” He says softly, closing the gap between us. Seiji reaches forward and wipes my tears away, I stare up into those tired but bright green eyes.

I guess some things aren't going to change. Maybe the unknown ahead of me isn't quite absolute.

“It's going to be okay, Suki.” He whispers.

“It's going to be okay.”