Rika's Route Act 3: Shadows

Act 3:  Shadows

Scene 1: Awaiting Release

Dear Iwanako,

Thank you for your letter. It was nice to hear from you. I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping in touch; things have just been pretty busy at my new school. I really like it here and I’m making a lot of new friends. I’ve even met someone special and we’ve been seeing each other for a few months. Exams are creeping up on me and it’s as stressful as ever.

I’d like to get right to the point about something. I’ve thought a lot about your visits to the hospital. I’m sorry I never said much to you while you were there, it’s just that your motives were unclear to me at the time. I couldn’t tell if it was real concern, or guilt, or just pity. But reading the letter you sent me has made one thing perfectly clear: any feelings you might have had for me were already gone.

This doesn’t make you a bad person and I hope you don’t blame yourself for it. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into with me, and it would be unfair for me to expect you to follow through on it. I’m in a better place now. I understand myself a lot more, and the people around me know about my condition, they have their own conditions, and they know what it’s like. My life is better now. I wouldn’t go back even if I had the choice.

Iwanako, what I really want to say is this. I don’t think there’s any reason for us to write letters to each other. Our whole lives are ahead of us, and there’s no reason we need to be a part of each other’s lives. I’ve moved on and I hope you have the strength to do the same.

Hisao



I give the letter a quick read before printing it. It sounds more resentful than I thought it would, but I suppose that’s fine. The main message is clear.

Looking back, saying that I’m in a “better place” makes it sound a lot like I’m dead. I decide to leave it that way.

I can’t find any really good reason to be resentful of Iwanako. I’m sure it’s just a projection of my own bitterness over the unexpected change of events in my life. If it weren’t for Rika, I never would have even read her letter, much less written any kind of reply. When it comes down to it, Iwanako is a stranger. We barely know each other. What could possibly motivate either of us to communicate with one another, other than basic human reactions to an unexpected event that we share in common? It’s nothing worth dwelling on, and hardly worth communicating about.

Her letter was every bit as unaffected as her hospital visits. I wonder if she thinks of Yamaku as a hospital. A hospital with teachers. And she feels compelled to write me just as she felt compelled to visit me.

Poor girl.

But that’s no reason to be cruel to a stranger. I may not consider Iwanako’s feelings tasteful, but I do think they’re sincerely held. The fact that she wrote me this letter means that she wants my permission to stop caring about me, and that’s all I’m going to give her. Any sentimentality will just confuse her.

I try to picture her face reading the letter and sighing in relief as this whole burden is lifted from her, but strangely enough, I can’t picture her face anymore. Maybe I’m already starting to forget about her.

Save. Print.

It’s been a week since I received Iwanako’s letter, and the eerily reminiscent precipitation of events that followed. Rika’s been in hospital the whole time, and I haven’t seen her once. The one time I did try to visit her, I was told by the doctor that she’d specifically requested that only family be able to see her. The doctor, who seemed to be familiar with Rika, tried to reassure me that it’s just “how she is” and I shouldn’t read too much into it. I guess I can imagine Rika being ashamed of her weakness. She can’t exactly sneak up on me in a hospital.

In the wake of the events, I find it remarkably easy to accept her desire to be left alone. I guess it’s because I’ve been thinking so much about my own stay in the hospital, how much easier it was to cope with the loneliness when I wasn’t forced to entertain visits from concerned parties. Reading in solitude was my escape. Visitors were what kept me in touch with my unhappy reality. Reality was the last thing I wanted to think about.

Furthermore, Rika’s obviously spent a lot more time in a hospital bed than I have. I’m sure she has her own unique pastimes and ways of dealing with the loneliness. It’s something I’ll have to ask her about when she’s discharged.

Of course, even if I respect and understand her need for distance, it’s painful not having her around. All week I’ve been going about my business the way I used to do when she was here. Taking lunch in the courtyard, going for evening walks, skipping my afternoon classes. Sitting by my phone when I’m having difficulty sleeping, waiting for her to summon me for a midnight excursion. She used to do all these things alone before I came here, and here I am now, carrying out her routines in her absence.

I must seem pretty miserable, because everyone at school is giving me a lot of deference. Mutou has been overlooking my absences. Nurse has been patient and a little over-eager with his brand of cordial hilarity to try and lighten my spirits. I haven’t made a single morning appointment with Emi, and even though she’s phoned me every morning to check on me, she hasn’t pressed the issue like she normally would. Instead of her sugary “no excuses” speeches, she’s just been gently stressing her concern and telling me that she’s there for me if I need her.

Prolonged absences due to illness must be commonplace at Yamaku. The students seem to have developed their own unique etiquette with regards to the situation. There’s an unspoken understanding in the way everyone deals with me. It’s nice, if a little isolating.

I look at my clock. It's approaching late evening. I’m sure Shiina and Shizune are hard at work in the student council room, cramming for our exams. Not much time left to do that. Maybe I should join them.

Before I can pick up my phone to call Shiina, there’s a knock at my door. I answer it and am surprised by who it is.

There in full track uniform, resting her left stump on her hip, with an indomitable grin on her face, is Rika’s ward, Miki.

“Sup?”

I stammer an answer. “Uh, nothing?”

She positively beams at me. “Perfect! Emi said you’re being a shitty running partner and mine’s AWOL. Wanna come kick up some dirt with your pal Miki?”




Scene 2: Reaching Out

I guess the “pal” threshold with Miki is pretty low, since this is the first time we’ve spoken to each other. I probably wouldn't have taken her up on her offer if she hadn't mentioned Emi. At a time like this, Emi's probably more concerned than ever about my well-being, and I can only imagine how much effort it takes for her to tolerate my absence. Miki is her compromise. It'd break Emi's heart if I didn't take her up on this.

After telling Miki I'd catch up with her, and changing into my track uniform, I make my way to the school track to find that she's already in full stride. It's already dusk, and the sun is just starting to dip beneath the horizon. I put my towel and water bottle on the bleachers and join Miki on the track. She slows down to a jog as I approach, being generous enough to keep pace with me, something Emi would never dream of doing. I run a couple of laps with her and she drops some words of encouragement along the way. Either she's impressed with my stamina or she's just trying to keep me motivated.

The exercise is good for a change, and I'm surprised that I haven't gotten completely out of shape from neglecting myself this week. The runner's high starts to set in just as Miki calls a "time out."

We sit on the bleachers as the darkness of night overtakes the field. I'm sweating, and the cool evening air is refreshing. Miki, not surprisingly, doesn't seem to be fazed by the workout.

She elbows me.

"You're pretty fast! I thought you were gonna bust a valve out there. Have you ever thought about joining the track team?"

She's got a sly look on her face. I'd been hoping to get through tonight with a minimum of talking. Not because I dislike Miki, exactly. It's just that she's got a reputation as a bit of a gossip, and I don't like having to choose my words carefully around girls like her. It's more effort than I have the energy for.

I just smile at her politely and try to steer the conversation. "Maybe next year. I don't really enjoy running, I just do it to keep Emi from riding my ass."

Miki laughs. "Emi's a little slave driver. I heard horror stories from Rika about how she used to phone her every morning to drag her out to the track, even if she wasn't feeling good. Say, are you and Rika boyfriend and girlfriend, or what?"

I guess it was a losing game to begin with. Oh well.

"Well, we hang out a lot and we've gone on some dates, but that's it."

Miki stares at me and bites her lip as though to restrain herself. With obvious effort, she takes a more solemn expression.

"Soo... she's been gone all week. I'm kinda worried about her. Nurse said she's in the hospital but Rika never told me she was going to be gone this week, so it must not be routine or anything. Any idea what happened to her?"

I shrug. "Promise not to tell anyone?"

"Course."

"I knocked her up and she's getting an abortion."

Miki scoffs and rolls her eyes at me. "Yeah, and that takes a week?"

"At least. I got her very, very pregnant."

She nudges me hard with her elbow again and glares at me comically.

"Dude, be serious, okay? I'm worried about her. She'll probably tell me when she gets out anyways. I mean, she's gonna be okay, right? I'm supposed to know this stuff. It's my job to keep her healthy and when she winds up on a hospital bed, I can't help taking it personally. Ya know?"

"I wouldn't worry about it," I say. "From what I know they're just keeping an eye on her because of a minor complication. I don't really know a lot more about it than you do."

"When was the last time you visited her?"

"I haven't been. She's screening her visitors and I guess I don't make the cut."

Miki raises her eyebrows scandalously. Oh no. I've probably already said too much. She leans back thoughtfully and looks up at the gradually emerging stars. Seeing her in this light, her dark, earthy skin tone subdued under the veil of night, makes me think of Rika's glowing, nigh-translucent complexion.

I miss her.

"Rika really likes you," Miki says suddenly.

"You think so?"

"I know so. Before you came here she was like one of those deaf-mutes. Never talked and never paid any mind to people who talked to her. She seemed lonely so I tried to reach out to her, but there's only so much you can try to do. I just got the feeling like she didn't like me. I mean, I can't tell you a lot about what she was like before I came here. I'm pretty new too. Only been here a couple months more than you have."

She waves her bandaged stump at me and I nod solemnly to signal my understanding. She smiles with a kind of weakness I haven't yet seen in her, but her expression is familiar to me. It's a feeling I know well: nostalgia for life before Yamaku.

"You seem to be doing an okay job of making friends," I reply.

"Yeah, joining the track team helped me meet a lot of people. I'm still paranoid the girls here don't like me, though. I try to be nice but sometimes I hear about people talking shit behind my back." She scowls bitterly. "That's why I tend to get along with the guys better. Bros don't try to get dirt on each other."

"I wouldn't really know. Come to think of it, I'm kind of the opposite. All my friends here are girls."

She sneers at me and raises an eyebrow. "That's just because all the girls here are crazy about you. You've got that new guy mystique. The guys like to make fun of you for it. Takashi calls you the 'Master of Romance.'"

I can't help laughing at this.

"I thought you said guys didn't gossip?"

She shakes her head. "No, don't get the wrong idea. They're just having fun, they don't mean it. You're a pretty cool guy and I'm sure you'd get along with them. You should come hang with us at lunch sometime. Rika can come too if she's down. You guys usually just eat alone, right? Why is that?"

"I don't know. That's just how she is."

Miki gives me a thoughtful look. "Well, maybe she just needs someone to get her out of her shell. She sure took a shine to you. I'd completely given up on reaching out to her before you came on the scene. I started to realize she's not a bitch, she's just lonely and awkward. I think she just needs a hand when it comes to breaking the ice with people, know what I mean? Besides, don't you miss having friends like you did at your old school?"

"What makes you so sure I had friends at my old school?"

"Cause you're not weird or ugly. And you aren't scared to talk to me."

I just shrug in reply. I don't really feel like talking or thinking about life before Yamaku so I just leave her without a reply. I think she gets the idea, too, because she changes the subject.

"Say, you doing anything over the summer break?"

"No, to be honest I totally forgot we were getting a break. Exams have been driving me up the wall."

"You work too hard," she says with a grin. "Anyways, me and some of the guys are going to do some camping, if you and Rika want to come. We've got some extra gear and a tent if you need one."

Just one tent between me and Rika?

"That sounds cool. I'll mention it to her. Maybe if she's feeling better we'll take you up on that."

Miki seems satisfied with that answer. I guess I took for granted that she was a permanent fixture here at Yamaku, with her ubiquitous reputation and her outgoing attitude. But when it comes down to it, she's still putting down roots here too, just like me. It's nice to have someone reaching out to me like this, and I'd hate to give her the wrong impression.

It also makes me wonder exactly how much of Rika's past she's privy to. I could imagine a concerted effort on the part of the Yamaku student body to keep delicate secrets from Miki, given her... loquacious nature.

Either way, she knows Rika as well as I do, and it's anyone's guess how Rika might feel about the idea of a camping trip. Who knows? Maybe she'll be up for a bit of adventure. I could picture her being the outdoorsy type. I'll have to try to sell her on the idea. Campfire ghost stories. Bears. The uncertainty of being so far from civilization. The threat of imminent demise. Walking tight-rope without a net, in her words.

That thought hits me pretty hard, too. Would it even be safe for us? What if one of us needed emergency help while we were out there? Or am I just exaggerating the outside possibility of something bad happening? Maybe I'll ask Nurse what he thinks. I can always rely on him for a candid opinion on matters of youth recklessness.

Something Rika said to me on our first date echoes in my head. "I'm not a slave to my body, Hisao."

At Miki's suggestion we decide to walk back to the dorms. It's starting to get pretty late, and the fatigue from so much exertion is setting in. By the time I do get home, I practically pass out in my bed, a welcome change from my recent bouts of insomnia. I could get used to these evening runs, but hopefully I won't get the chance to.


Scene 3: Quality and Quantity

“Hey! You came!”

Emi waves enthusiastically at me as I step out from the stairwell onto the rooftop of Yamaku. She motions me over to where she’s sitting on a small bench with Rin as they eat their packed lunches. A third bag sits right next to Emi. Instead of her normal phone call this morning, I got a text message from her inviting me to come take lunch with her and Rin on the roof rather than “eating alone all the time.” She must have either gotten wind of the fact that I got my running fix with Miki the night before, or she’d given up on trying to coax me out to the track with her.

Both the time of the day and the absence of Rika make the roof a lot less frightening. The noise of the schoolgrounds, the heat of the summer sun, the sounds of the daytime clamor, the handful of benches and light brown picnic tables, which were almost invisible at night, make it feel so much less ominous. I glance at the spot where I remember Rika sitting atop the fence when I approached the school the first night we snuck out here. The cross-bar at the top of the fence looks so flimsy. My heart thuds just at the thought of perching up there the way she had.

I take a seat between Emi and Rin on the bench. Rin doesn’t bother saying hello, but just looks at me vacantly while she chews a mouthful of food, her metal fork dangling between her toes which remain poised at eye level. I try not to stare, even though I’m sure Rin wouldn’t mind if I did.

Emi plops the bagged lunch into my lap. “I made you a little extra! When you run in the evenings it’s important to fuel up with a good lunch!” She grins her approval at me. I can tell she’s pleased with the news that she must have gotten by now. Her joy is infectious.

“Yours looks bigger than his,” Rin interjects, pushing another forkful of food into her mouth.

Emi leans forward so Rin can see the forced scowl that she puts on, but Rin doesn’t seem to take notice. It occurs to me that sitting between them might not have been the best idea. I’m never sure what to expect from these two.

After a bit of a delay, Emi pipes in with a playful tone. “Well, lately I’ve been running for two, so I’ve got to recoup my energy somewhere.” She winks at me and takes another bite of her meal.

“Two people is a lot when you’ve got no legs,” Rin muses, and Emi giggles with her mouth full.

I open the lunch she’s made for me. Tofu with spinach and what smells like a black bean sauce, on a bed of thick noodles. It’s an unusual mixture, but not bad. I take a first bite. The tofu is a little thickly sliced so it has a slightly more rubbery texture than it should. It would probably taste better if it were heated up.

“Did you make this?” I ask Emi. She nods gleefully at me.

“You know, cooking is one of my many passions!”

Rin swallows another bite. “Can you still call them passions when you have so many?”

“Of course! I’m a very passionate person.”

We eat in silence for a minute or so before Rin suddenly looks at me. She stares for a second before speaking.

“There’s less of you,” she says.

Emi takes on an uneasy expression, maybe a little worried that Rin is about to say something taboo.

“What do you mean by that?” I ask.

She pushes her food to the side with her foot and sits upright, slipping her feet back into her sandals. She must be even less thrilled with Emi’s food than I am, because she’s not even half finished. She goes on talking.

“I thought there were two of you. But now there’s just one. What happened?”

“Rin,” Emi says sternly.

I just shrug at Emi and turn to Rin again.

“You mean Rika?” I ask. “She’s been sick this week, but she should be coming back soon.”

Rin nods, then continues.

“What’s that like?”

“What, being in the hospital?”

“I mean being two people.”

Emi makes a muffled noise like she wants to jump into the talking queue, but her mouth is full.

“Shouldn’t you guys know just as well as I would? Don’t you go together like a suit and shoes?”

Rin shakes her head and looks up at the sky, narrowing her eyes a bit as if she’s trying to reframe her question.

“You don’t need to wear two outfits though if you’re just one person. I’m lots of different people, too. I was a different person yesterday than today. But what if I were both people today instead of just one of them? I looked at my reflection once and thought about what it might be like if I could take it to school with me sometime and we could hang out. I thought it would be bad because we’d always wind up sitting in each other’s seats and eating each other’s lunch and talking when the other one wanted to talk. I was thinking that one day and then the same day, I met you in the art room.”

“Rin collects people,” Emi explains, as though that explains anything. Rin nods with sagacity.

“It’s my passion. I already had one of you. Now I have doubles.”

“But you have other doubles, too,” I say. “What about the blind boy in the art club, and that Satou girl?”

Rin shrugs. “They’re not the same at all. You shouldn’t just think that all blind people are the same. That’s not a very nice thing to do. I’m talking about you. You’re the one who has to exercise and take pills every day or his heart will blow up. The one who never talks to anyone unless it’s for an assignment and spends all his time skipping class in the afternoon and always eats his lunch in the courtyard and whose face always looks like he just saw a really sad movie. The one who always wants to talk about serious stuff like death and school and never seems to be having fun. I already had one of those.”

I laugh awkwardly at her and she just stares at me, seeming to not understand my response. Emi laughs too, maybe to try and lighten the mood.

“Maybe that means they’re soul mates,” she says. “Wouldn’t it be great to fall in love with someone who was just like you?”

“Sounds conceited,” Rin says, and Emi scowls at her again.

I feel like it’s my turn to talk, but I’m not really able to come up with a good counter to her argument.

“Well,” I say, “my hair is shorter. That’s a start.”

Rin ponders that for a moment. “No, I don’t think that’s good enough. My hair was shorter when I woke up this morning and I think that was still me.”

The lunch bell rings, and I’ve never been happier to hear it. Not that I dislike Rin, I just find it exhausting trying to hold a conversation with her. Emi gathers what’s left of our lunches up for us and stuffs the remains into her empty bag. She gives Rin a disapproving look as she does so, probably more because Rin hardly finished eating than because she’s guilty of any indiscretion. Rin, as always, seems unaffected. I find myself wondering how Emi has the patience to be Rin’s friend, since she’s so impervious to Emi’s arsenal of faces. Like shoes and a suit in more ways than one, I suppose. All the same, it’s admirable that Rin is willing to breach such a sensitive subject with such frankness. I can’t tell whether Emi was just being polite, but it was nice hearing her speaking about Rika without prejudice.

Rin’s ramblings echo in my head throughout my afternoon class, and not even Mutou’s lucidity can make its way through my skull. Her words twist and distort in my brain. Like that mural I helped her work on for the festival. When I asked her what it was a painting of, she just said, “it’s a painting of a mural.”

I tap my pencil against my paper, watching the clock, eager for the evening, eager to sit by my phone, wanting more than ever to see Rika again.

There’s less of me.




Scene 4: Lies

My mind heavy with thoughts of Rika, I trudge through the halls of the boys’ dorms, back to my room, eager for sleep.

It’s been the same day as it’s been all week. The prospect of exams is dizzying, the loneliness of being without Rika oppressive. Rin’s strange reflection on the nature of my congruence with Rika, absurd though it was, has been pressing my thoughts all day. I feel her absence more intimately than ever before. I feel as diminished as I must look.

After an evening with my study group in the student council room, with vending machine snacks for dinner, I met Miki on the track for another evening run. Fewer words came between us this time, maybe because she could tell I was bogged down in my thoughts. Even the workout failed to “scrub the bad thoughts out of my head” the way Emi insists a good run always can. Even if she was a bit quiet, I could tell Miki was gracious for my company.

Tired, hair wet from my late shower, I open the door and drop my knapsack on the floor. Something unusual catches my eye. My curtains are fluttering in a draft that’s coming through my open window, causing scattered moonbeams to flicker on the walls. I don’t recall leaving the window open.

Before I can turn the light switch on, I feel her arms fling across my shoulders, and her warm lips press against mine. My eyes stretch open in shock, and hers remain serenely closed. For half a second I stare at half of her face, my arms dumbly raised at my sides in surprise, while the faint light glitters on her fair skin. Even in the darkness of my room, she is radiant.

After what must have been a few seconds, but seemed like minutes, Rika pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes. Her crimson irises add intensity to her solemn expression, her eyebrows are raised anxiously, as if she were awaiting an answer.

I put my hands on her narrow waist, pull her body against mine, and kiss her deeply. She pulls me closer, her fingers clutching me tightly against her.

My mind is racing with questions, with things that I should say or ask, but I feel completely unmoved to say a single word to her. My heart pounds with intensity against my chest. But I don’t want to stop. Not even if it costs me my life. All I want is to be close to her, to feel her presence.

We release, and I look her in the eyes again. Her expression is the same, distant, pining look that she had before. She doesn’t smile. It almost looks like worry. I reach up and touch her face with the back of my fingers, brushing her bangs to the side. Her hair positively shimmers in the darkness.

“I wanted to see you,” she says suddenly, breaking the stillness in the room.

I give her a reassuring smile, which she returns in kind. I can see restraint in her expression as she lowers the corners of her mouth again, pursing her lips shut. She sits down on the end of my bed and looks out the window. She’s dressed in the same tank-top-and-shorts combination that she wore on the rooftop of Yamaku on our first late night rendezvous. It’s a beautiful, clear summer night outside and the stars are visible from my room. It makes me think of how seldom I ever open my curtains or even bother to look out the window, but the view is quite nice.

I take a seat next to her on the bed, and she scoots closer to me as we look out the window at the sky.

“I thought a lot about what I wanted to say to you when I saw you again,” she says.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” I reply.

She gives a muffled chuckle behind closed lips. “There was never really any question that I would be okay, Hisao. People like us don’t die in hospitals. I’m never so far from death as when I’m there.”

“So you’re a regular hospital goer, I take it?”

The fingers of her left hand interlock mine, and she gives my hand a squeeze. “You could say that. I know most of the doctors and nurses there and they are good to me. They give me a bit more freedom than they used to. It wasn’t so bad, staying there, just a little bit…” she trails off thoughtfully before settling on a word. “Sterile?”

“I know what you mean,” I say. “Come to think of it, I wasn’t really scared at all during my hospital stay. At least, not of dying. I was scared of my future, about the fact that my life was suddenly going to be so different, that things were changing so much. I was scared of the list of medicines.”

“Were you scared of Iwanako?”

“I tried not to think about her when she wasn’t around. I mostly just read novels while I was there. It’s funny because I never was much of a reader before… well, before what happened. Do you read in the hospital?”

She shakes her head. “I do other things to keep busy. I take walks through the halls. Sometimes I talk to the other people who are staying there. Some of them are people like us, but most of them are the kinds of people we’re never going to be. People whose illusions of peace have suddenly broken, people staring death in the throat, sometimes for the first time ever, not knowing what to do or say or think. Or even stranger, people who have lived for years and years, waiting for the end to come. Their loved ones come to see them, when they have loved ones, and have those touching conversations with them and tie up the loose ends of their lives. Generations of people baring their souls to one another in the shadow of death.”

Funny, I think. Walking around and making friends is the last thing I'd expect from a recluse like Rika. I imagine the imposing image she must cut, a pale young woman in a hospital garb, long white hair, bright red eyes, wandering the halls like a specter. My doctors were barely willing to let me out of bed without supervision. Rika must really be a common apparition at the hospital.

“So you like to eavesdrop on the dying?” I ask her.

“Sometimes I don’t have to. Did you share a hospital room during your stay?”

“No,” I say. “I had my own room.”

She sighs. “I shared a room with an old woman who was at the end of her life. My doctor told me he thought we’d get along because our eyes matched.” Rika points to her face with a smirk. “She even brought up that old cliché, about how I look just like she did when she was younger. It was one of the first things she said to me. I guess she doesn't get to say it to a lot of people, though... since, you know, I don't look like most girls do.”

Rika’s tone grows a bit tense as she talks. There’s an emotional tenor in her voice that’s not like her. I look at her attentively as she speaks, but she continues to stare out the window, at the stars.

“She had a lot of things to say to me. We talked for the first few days that I was there, her doing most of the talking, and already by the third day it was like we were old friends. She was the youngest of three sisters and the last survivor in her family. Her husband had died the year prior and her health had been in decline. She never had any children, so, there was nobody to visit her there. She said to me that having me there was like going into the past and visiting the person she used to be. I think what she wanted to say was that I was like a child she’d never had.”

“That’s sad,” I say.

Rika closes her eyes, taking a deep, collected breath. “I was there with her right at the end, too. She held my hand. Her skin was so loose and she felt so brittle. She thanked me for being there, and I told her it was okay. But just before she expired she said something to me that made me really upset.”

“What was it?”

“She said, ‘I’m afraid.’ It was the first time she ever admitted it to me since I met her. I knew she was afraid. Who wouldn’t be? But I just wish she hadn’t said it. I wish she’d had something else to say. People shouldn’t squander their last words like that.”

I look out the window and squeeze her hand comfortingly.

“Last words, huh…” I mutter.

She tilts her head at me. “What was that?”

“Oh,” I say, waving my hand dismissively. “I was just thinking. You know, since we won’t die in the hospital, we’re not going to have a lot of time to think about what we want our last words to be.”

This obviously pleases her. She narrows her eyes and gives a morbid smile. “Well, maybe we can come up with them ahead of time. And even if we don’t manage to get it right in the end, if anyone asks, we’ll just lie about it. Will you lie for me after I die?”

I grin at her. “Of course. And you will for me, right?”

Suddenly, she kisses me again, pushing me down against the bed and laying at my side, with my arm around her. I wait for her answer, but it doesn’t come. Her arm rests on my chest, and I feel her toes toying idly with mine as we repose in silence. I stare at the ceiling, overcome with a feeling of immense peace and joy, and feel her gradually prolonged breaths on my neck as she drifts off. My eyelids are heavy, too, but the alertness of my thoughts defies them.

I think about the hospital. I think about Rika, and the gentle side she’s been revealing to me this evening. I think about how she managed to get in here without being noticed, and whether anyone did notice. I think about what it’s going to be like waking up next to someone. I think about how it felt to kiss her, how warm her body feels pressed up against mine, how comforting the feeling of her breath is on my skin. I think about what we might look like if we ever make it to old age. And I think about the last time I saw her, and those words that I thought might have been her last.



Scene 5: Wards

The other students are pretty merciful about my shabby appearance in class. I woke up with an empty bed and an ominously open window, fully dressed in my school clothes, and almost late for class. Rika must have shown herself out, somehow. It would have been nice of her to make sure I got up at a decent hour, but I guess that would have come at the cost of her leaving me wondering whether last night happened or was just a dream.

So here I am, sitting in class in my slept-in school uniform and unkempt hair, being charitably tolerated by my peers. I would normally expect some gentle ribbing from Miki and Shiina, at least. But either they’re too preoccupied with the looming threat of exam week, or they’re assuming the worst of my situation and feel sorry for me. My sleeplessness and general disarray have been more or less common knowledge this past month. Even Mutou seems to have altered his attitude to me. He used to treat me like a star student, but lately he almost seems almost to have given up on me. Some of the marginal notes on my returned assignments are telling. “You can do better than this.” I guess it’s not easy putting all your hopes in a pupil only to see them consistently let you down.

The exams are my chance to restore a little of his faith in me. I wish I could tell Mutou this myself, but it’s been a while since the last time he asked to speak to me after class, and I’m not so bold as to approach him. It hurts a little every time I notice him eyeing me up, as if he were about to call on me for a question, before choosing not to.

The bell finally rings, and the students hurriedly shuffle into the hallways while Mutou tries to shout a few additional pointers about the exams to whoever might be listening. I stuff my things into my bag and head to the Nurse’s office for my last appointment of the week.

Much to my surprise, Rika isn’t present when I arrive. Nurse smiles at me and motions for me to have a seat while he flips open his clipboard.

“How’s your week been treating you, Hisao? Taking it easy on the ladies, I hope.”

I smirk at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Hey, it’s my job to ask. I don’t like it any more than you do.”

He flips through his clipboard, making notes as he conducts a preliminary exam.

“Either way, Hisao,” he says as he writes. “You’d better take it easy with the romance. I don’t know if she told you yet, but Rika’s been discharged from the hospital, so she’ll be back any minute, and I’d hate to see you getting caught slaking your libido. You know how Rika is. She’ll show up when you least expect it.”

I chuckle. He doesn’t know the half of it.

“You know, Nurse, there’s something I wanted to ask you. Miki invited me and Rika to go do some camping after the exams are over. We’re probably going to go, but I’m a little bit worried that it might be… dangerous for us, or not a good idea. What do you think?”

He gives me a thoughtful look, and taps his pen against his mouth, as if contemplating whether to say something. Did I ask more than I intended to?

He takes a seat across from me in his office chair.

“Hisao,” he says after a brief silence, “you know I like to enlist the help of my students in caring for one another, right?”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Well, did you ever wonder why I do that?”

“Because you like screwing with people?”

He laughs. “Well, that too. But mainly, the thing is that as a medical practitioner I have a strict duty of confidentiality when it comes to my patients. I take my professional responsibilities pretty seriously, as you know. But a lot of the time, retaining a strict level of confidentiality puts an unfair burden on my patients to watch out for their own interests. If someone comes to me with a problem, and I give them a solution, whether or not they actually bother to apply that solution for themselves is entirely up to them. And a lot of the time, as I’m sure you know by now, people aren’t the best at looking out for their own interests.”

“I see.”

He sits forward before talking again, lowering his voice a bit, with a serious expression on his face. “Now, Hisao, a lot of the time this puts me in a tricky position, as you might imagine. Let’s say, for example, I got wind of the fact that you weren’t taking your medicine. I could nag you all I wanted about it, but it might not do a whole lot of good. And then, who else can I talk to? If you’re putting your own life in jeopardy, do I just sit here with my secrets and wait for you to bite the dust? I can’t do that. All I can do is make as many students as possible as nosy as possible about each other’s health. Students have a lot more freedom than I do to get in each other’s business. Do you understand what I saying?”

He puts a lot of stress on that last sentence, and I nod solemnly.

He continues. “So, Hisao, to get back to your question, the nearest campgrounds have their own on-site medical facilities and they’re equipped to deal with most medical emergencies should they arise. They’re pretty accustomed to getting campers from Yamaku. But staying in isolation like that still means that you need to be watching yourselves pretty carefully. Emergency response is still a lot slower than it is out here. So, you need to be responsible for your health. The same goes for Rika. And really, you’re in a unique position to look out for her. She trusts you.”

So Nurse is enlisting my efforts to be part of Rika’s wellness crew? I give him a reluctant nod, and he grins at me, dropping in an instant all the solemnity he’s put between us. He starts to scribble something down on a notepad.

“You’re a good kid, Hisao. I hope you guys have a good time out there and that you play it safe. Remember, having sex in tents attracts bears.”

He rips the piece of paper off the top of his notepad and hands it to me. Two phone numbers, his cell phone and his home line. I stuff it into my pocket.

The exam and the school day now over, I step out the front door of Yamaku only to find that it’s raining. Wonderful. With my morning routine as backwards as it was, I didn’t bother to check the weather forecast, so I didn't exactly dress for this kind of thing. Just as I’m about to lift my backpack over my head to shelter myself from the rain, a shadow comes over me. I turn around and once more I’m face-to-face with Rika, the girl who’s always everywhere. She’s more sensibly dressed in a hoodie with the hood drawn, jeans, and a pair of sunglasses atop her head. It takes me a moment to notice that she’s holding an umbrella over me. She gives me a patronizing smile as she takes my hand, and we start walking nowhere in particular.

“Honestly, Hisao, I don’t know how you managed to survive all week without me.”





Scene 6: Illusions

Rainclouds eerily gather in the sky as Rika and I walk down the road leading to town, hand-in-hand, sharing her umbrella. I’d asked Rika if we might stop by the boys’ dorm to so I could change into something a little less disheveled, but she just giggled and said I should stay like this because I resemble the weather. Whatever that means.

We walk together in a hush, listening to the rain as it quickens its descent, growing noisier. Cars pass us on the road, kicking up puddle water, the employees of Yamaku who are going home for the weekend.

“So,” I ask, breaking the silence, “what’s the plan once we get into town?”

“We’ll see when we get there. We aren’t the sort of people who make plans.”

A bright flash of lightning illuminates the sky, and she stops walking, raising a finger as if indicating that I should wait for something. After a few seconds she snaps her fingers, and the sound of thunder rolls out of the clouds.

“Not bad,” I say.

“Just a little trick I picked up,” she replies. “We had a lot of thunderstorms in my town when I was a kid, and I used to spend a lot of time out in the rain, wondering what the odds were that I’d get hit by lightning. It’d be a funny way to go, don’t you think? I’d like to see the reactions it would get out of people.”

“Are you going to tell me how you did that?”

“Why would I do a thing like that, Hisao? You should learn to be more okay with not knowing things.”

I can tell she’s enjoying leading me on like this. More lightning lights up the sky, and I look at her expectantly. She just shakes her head.

“No, it only works once a day. I need to recharge it.”

I smirk at her, but she seems to be preoccupied, and keeps glancing up at the overcast sky. It’s so dark outside that it looks like it’s the middle of the night. As we step into town, another, much brighter flash of lightning fills up the sky, and a fork shoots out between two of the billowy, black clouds. Rika’s face flickers like a lantern as the lightning illuminates her. Her crimson eyes burn with an intensity unbecoming of her solemn expression.

“Maybe we should stop in the Shanghai and get a cup of tea,” I say. “I’m starting to get cold.”

“I’ve never been there,” Rika says. It’s not really surprising that Rika wouldn’t frequent one of the local student hang-outs, but she doesn’t seem to have any objection to it, so we make our way up the sidewalk and enter the Shanghai, where Yuuko greets us with a deep bow of hospitality.

The café is relatively busy, as it tends to be on Saturday afternoons, noisy with students yammering on about the tension of exams, the minutiae of their lives, all the things that normal teenagers tend to occupy themselves with. Rika is silent, and her presence presses me. I deliberately avoid eye contact with some of the students in the café, hopeful that we don't get invited to any tables.

“How about that table by the window?” I ask her, indicating a relatively secluded spot. She smiles at me graciously.

We take a seat and I open the menu, looking at some of the items, more out of habit than desire for food. Rika, for her part, puts her chin on her hand and looks out the window.

No, on second thought, she’s not looking out the window. She’s looking at it, watching the raindrops collect and trickle down the pane, connecting with one another, trembling, dissipating. The occasional flash of lightning, bright though it may be against the dark, overcast afternoon outdoors, has no effect on the well-lit coffee shop. She seems to be the only one taking any notice of the weather.

I thumb the menu with disinterest, hungry more for the company of Rika than for anything to eat. I’d forgotten how distant she can seem when I’m with her, any time we’re not talking.

“You know,” I say, “you can tell how far away lightning strikes by counting the seconds before you hear the thunder.”

“I’ve heard that,” she says, not removing her eyes from where they are. She almost looks sad, but I’m fairly certain it’s just that she’s caught up in her thoughts.

I awkwardly look down at the table, trying to think of something more interesting to talk about, when Yuuko shows up to take our order. She’s more than a little disorderly, a pencil behind each of her ears as though she’s forgotten they’re there, and a ballpoint pen in her hand. Her sleeves are rolled up and she’s got a few hurried notes written on her left arm. She looks flustered but gives me a pained smile and another bow.

“I’ll just get a green tea and some rice, Yuuko, if that’s alright.”

“I’ll have the same,” Rika says, not even making eye contact. Yuuko frowns a little at the display of bad manners. Hardly any wonder people think of Rika as standoffish, even if she doesn’t mean to be.

Yuuko writes down our orders quickly and thanks us, taking off to attend to her queue of duties.

“Was I being rude?” Rika asks, so flatly that it’s hard to tell whether she’s being sincere.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it. Yuuko’s got a thick skin.”

She shakes her head at me. “No, she doesn’t. She’s pretty hard on herself. I should apologize to her later.”

The chatter of the students around us grates on my senses, and I can tell it’s bothering Rika, too. This may have been a bad choice of places for us to warm up, but she was either kind enough or indifferent enough to follow my lead. We both look out the window again as more lightning flashes against the clouds. I find myself wishing we weren’t in a public place, that we could forego this social backdrop and be alone in a gallery watching the spectacle of the dark, wet glass on the window. I wish someone could just draw a curtain around us.

We stare outside, and I’m certain she’s thinking the same thing, but something in me craves the comfort of normal conversation. I make eye contact with her faint, ghostly reflection, which seems to please her, and she does me the same courtesy.

“Did you get a deferral for your exams?” I ask her.

She sighs. “No. I think I’ll be fine.”

“You studied in the hospital, then?”

“Not one bit,” she says. “I’m not applying to any universities. I just want to graduate. Then, whatever happens happens.”

I flush at the thought. Rika’s resignation to her fate is something that never ceases to dampen my spirits. She notices my reaction and must feel a bit guilty, because she tries to reassure me with a smile. I feel her hand on mine, which takes me by surprise because I’ve by now forgotten that I’m only looking at her reflection.

“I was thinking more like early retirement,” she says. “People spend their whole lives working for retirement. It’s nice to be so young in our old age, don’t you think? We’re exactly where everyone wants to be, and we can enjoy it more, too.”

I stay silent, not sure what to say. I’ve been worried sick about finals, and the thought never crossed my mind that the dream I’m chasing might be too distant. I might never be that old. Being young in my old age…

The clouds shift, and a bit of sunlight gets through, causing her reflection to flicker out momentarily. I turn to look at her, but she’s still staring at my reflection. Her thoughts look heavy.

“Did your doctors ever give you a prognosis?” she asks me suddenly.

“Uh, no,” I stammer, a bit taken aback. “They were vague about it. I don’t think they want me to think about it, myself.”

“And don’t you think that’s a little unfair?”

“Well, it’s not like they could know anyways. It will depend on how I take care of myself, how lucky I am, you know… if something happens one day, well… it’s just like you said. Whatever happens happens.”

She chuckles darkly and closes her eyes. “Well, that's true of everyone. Nobody's ever more than a step away from death. We’re just more awake to the reality than most people. That’s all. I’ve met people in the hospital who knew the day and time that they were going to die. Some of them were right. Some of them got struck by lightning. Imagine that.”

I start to wonder whether anyone is listening to us. It would be pretty uncomfortable for Yuuko to step over to our table at a time like this. Then again, maybe she has. I haven’t been paying attention.

The light’s finally coming out from the clouds, and we’re probably the only two people in the Shanghai to have noticed. She turns her eyes to me, chin still resting on one hand, her other hand holding mine.

“Do you want to know my prognosis?”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Nobody knows. My surgery was a new procedure when I got it. The oldest living person who has had the same procedure is in his mid 30s. But, mine was a little different, because medicine has been changing. So no one can know for sure just how things are going to go with me.”

“That’s something to look forward to,” I say with a chiding grin. “Maybe if you try to live to a ripe old age, you’ll be someone else’s benchmark someday.”

She frowns, more affected by what I said than I would have thought. “You think too much about the future, Hisao. You shouldn’t worry so much about people’s expectations of you. Wouldn’t you really rather be doing something else than studying all the time, for a scholarship you might never use, for a job you might never have, where you can work for a retirement that might never happen?”

I shrug. "Well, maybe it makes life a little more exciting when you wager on something big. If you hedge your bets, you don't have as much to lose. Think about it like walking tight-rope without a net, but where the net would be, you have a tank full of man-eating sharks."

She cracks a bit of laughter at this, in spite of herself, but instead of glowering at me for breaking the tension, she just gives my hand a squeeze. It's satisfying to see her let her guard down.

The clank of our dishes comes down on the table as a timid, overworked Yuuko minimizes her presence, scurrying off as soon as we’re served our food. Maybe she doesn’t want to interrupt, and I can sympathize with her plight. She works so hard for her own future, I wouldn’t want Yuuko hearing a word of what Rika is saying.

I pour a bit of soy sauce on my rice and start nibbling on it. Rika sits in silence, not eating or taking any notice of her food. I feel disconnected from her. As I’m trying to think of something to say, she says something instead.

“Miki invited us to go camping after exams are over.”

“Yeah, she mentioned that to me, too.”

“Do you like camping?” she asks, and starts to pick at her rice with her fingers.

“I’ve never been, really. I’m from the big city, remember?”

She smiles. “It can be exciting. I used to go camping a lot when I was younger. It’s nice to get away from civilization and spend some time out in the middle of nowhere.”

Typical, Rika doesn't seem to think of it as a social event. I hope Miki isn't disappointed if Rika spends less time with the company and more of it being aloof.

“Are you familiar with the place we’re going?" I ask. "Nurse said there’s a campground not far from Yamaku.”

She gives me a strange look. Should I have mentioned that I was talking to Nurse about this? She looks down at her rice and continues nibbling with her fingers.

“It’s wooded. The wildlife is really nice. And there’s a nice lake where you can do a bit of swimming. A hot spring, too, if you like that kind of thing. We probably won’t be the only people out there, but it’s easy to get away from the crowds if you want to.”

“Hopefully the weather looks up by then,” I add. She raps her knuckles on the table and I smile at her.

We finish eating our meal and Rika continues to muse about our camping trip and what it might be like. I get the sense that she’s restraining her joy, and it’s refreshing to see her this way. My own anxiety about the encroaching exams is sated somewhat by the promise of something immediate to look forward to. I was worried she wouldn’t be interested, just based on her disposition, but I guess that was a little of me falling prey to the common misunderstanding about Rika. Come to think of it, she doesn’t tend to decline invitations.

I look out the window again, at the spot where we were just minutes ago making eye contact. The sky is bright again, though, and her image is nowhere to be seen.



Scene 7: Spectres

It’s the last Saturday night before exams, and my head is swimming with things learned and half-learned, doubts, worries about my performance, my future. What’s worse, I can’t even focus on my studies without feeling Rika’s voice whispering in the back of my head that it’s all meaningless, that I’m wasting what little of life I have by toiling in uncertainty, that I should embrace the thrill of total abandon.

Rika and I parted ways after returning from the Shanghai, her saying that she wanted to go for a run with Miki at the track, which came as a relief, as I’d already been planning on blowing off my running appointment. After a week-long hospital stay, I can imagine she’s a bit stiff and could use a good stretch.

For my part, I spent a good deal of the evening with my study group, up in the library, which has been open late to accommodate the exam season. Yuuko made a joke about how she might as well have given me a ride back to campus from the Shanghai if I’d only waited. Even though the library was open late, though, it was still relatively empty, and she even had time to run out and treat us all to a round of coffee, as if she were having a hard time distinguishing one job from the other. One coffee for each of us, two for herself. “A little something special to kick you in the butt,” she said. It struck me how seldom I ever see her doing anything but working.

Drinking coffee felt rebellious for reasons I don’t think she was privy to. Even now, I feel a bit jumpy. Paranoid, jittery, and worried about what might be lurking in the shadows of my room as I open my bedroom door.

But all I see the my empty bedroom in the same state of disarray that I left it in this morning. My curtains are still drawn back, and the lunar light is pervasive, drawing out the shapes of my room in a way reminiscent of last night, which strangely makes me feel ill at ease rather than nostalgic. There’s something unsettling about low lighting compared with complete darkness.

Finally, I flick on the lightswitch, drop my knapsack, and start to change out of my school uniform for the first time since yesterday morning. I could really go for a shower.

No sooner am I out of my shirt than my text message notification beeps.

“Nice to see you.”

I blush and my first instinct is to look out my window, but I can’t see anything through my reflection. I cautiously go to hit the lightswitch and then return to look outside.

Rika’s especially good at having eye contact with me the moment I notice her. Where she stands she seems almost to be floating in mid-air, directly backlit by a crescent moon. The dark, thin branch of the tall Zelkova tree outside my window is barely visible beneath her feet.  . Where you might expect someone to be clinging on for dear life, Rika is simply standing upright, hands in the pockets of her grey hoodie in a nonchalant pose. With her effortless expression and the complete stillness of the tree below, she looks weightless and ethereal.

As usual, her complete lack of apparent unease puts my anxiety into overdrive. Combined with the lingering effects of the coffee from this evening, I feel my heart clattering against my ribcage, and a sweat forms on my forehead.

I open my window, and the cool night air feels refreshing against my face and my bare chest. For a Saturday night, the outside is almost perfectly quiet.

Rika takes a few steps in my direction, cautiously, one foot in front of the other, extending her arms at her sides for the time being, then resumes her casual pose. She must be about four meters from my window, where she’s standing now. I’m still not convinced she could have snuck into my room this way, but far be it for me to expect a magician to disclose her secrets to me.

I open my mouth to say something, but hesitate, fearing that anything I say might cause her to lose her concentration. She smirks gleefully at me, sensing my trepidation.

“What’s the matter, Mr. Nakai?” she says, her voice the only thing audible anywhere in the still of night. “You’re not shy about your body, are you?”

I’d been so preoccupied with my second-hand fear at Rika’s boldness that I’d almost entirely forgotten my semi-nude state. I take a few calming breaths, trying to fight back the surge of blood pressure. Hearing her voice, maybe contrary to her intentions, is helping. I still say nothing.

She takes one step closer, and the branch dips visibly under her weight, its leaves rustling loudly. I subconsciously listen for a cracking noise that never comes, and I swallow my fear in a tense moment of relief. Her arms teeter at her sides, either in an attempt to regain balance or an attempt to restore my terror. I wouldn’t be surprised at the latter.

“I’m just afraid of peeping toms,” I say at last, my feigned confidence betrayed by a juvenile crack in my voice. She giggles, retaining her composure and her upright posture, which seems more and more impossible given her circumstances.

“I just like to watch boys sleeping,” she replies. “It can’t be helped if they occasionally wind up shirtless in the process.” Her eyes wander down to my chest, and I self-consciously hurry to cover up my surgical scar with my right hand. She furrows her brow and stares me at me, her red eyes almost glowing with intensity.

“Hisao, who do you think you're hiding from?"

I sigh and reluctantly lower my hand. The fact of the matter is that I’ve never been seen this way by anyone but Nurse since coming to Yamaku. Rika leans forward a bit, scrutinizing my scar, the branch beneath her dipping even more as she shifts her weight. Her expression turns solemn as she meets my gaze again.

“You’re not used to being visibly disabled, are you?”

I put my hands on the windowsill and lean forward, bringing myself a few centimeters closer to her. As my head leaves the window, I feel like I’m in a tree of my own. A tree made of masonry and steel, one that will let me recoil in safety the moment I feel I’m in any danger. And yet, I fear the sight of the descent below more than Rika appears to fear anything right now.

Again, I say nothing to her. Her expression changes suddenly, and she narrows her eyes at me as she reaches down, tugging the bottom of her sweater with a swift, steady motion, over her head, and casts it recklessly aside, letting it fall into the grass of the courtyard below. Her bright white skin beams with radiance in the pale light of the moon.

For the first time since that night in the woods, I behold the vision of her partially undressed body, her narrow shoulders that almost look frail, her thin but toned forearms, her firm stomach, the flare of her hips in her fitted blue jeans. She closes her eyes, maybe to save my shame, before reaching behind her back and unfastening her bra, slipping it off her shoulders, and letting it fall to the earth as well.

I inhale sharply, my heart at a steady peak as the old feeling returns. The feeling I had in the woods with Iwanako. The feeling that someone is turning herself over to me, seeking intimacy. I struggle to retain my composure, reaching instinctively for my chest.

Eyes still closed, almost as if to mimic me, she places her slender hand between her breasts, her long, spider-like fingers arching as if she were clasping at something that should be there. The scar on her chest, however, is so long that she couldn’t possibly cover it up with one hand if she tried, running almost from her collarbone to the bottom of her ribcage. Its bright red strikes a contrast with her pale features.

As affected as I ought to be by the sight of a beautiful young woman exhibiting herself like this, all I can think of is her scar, the string of operations she’s had, and all the time she must have spent in the hospital over the course of her life. My self-consciousness flees me entirely. I lower my hand, exposing my chest, and watch her face as she opens her eyes again with a gentle expression. A bit of moisture glitters at the corners of her eyes, and she speaks in a voice much softer than I’m used to.

“Hisao… Have you ever looked in the mirror and wished you might see someone else looking back at you?”




Scene 8: Divergence

The vision of Rika’s luminous form nearly burned into my eyelids, I descend the stairs of the dorm building and head for the exit into the courtyard, where I see her resting up against the tree, clothes back on, reposing in the grass lazily and fixing her eyes on me as always. The dull grey of her sweater blends her into the landscape, the hood over her features sheltering her pallid visage almost like a lampshade. She gives me an odd smile as I approach her, hands in my pockets, not sure what I ought to say, or whether anything needs saying. There’s something concerning in her expression.

“Why are you still awake, anyhow?” she asks me. “Aren’t your eyes tired from staring at textbooks all day?”

“I’m on a caffeine rush,” I explain, taking a seat beside her. She interlocks my fingers with hers and stares up at the sky. The clouds are now completely gone and it’s a totally clear night. It would be pitch black if not for the hanging moon and its host of stars. The canopy of the tree branches sways over us as a light breeze catches them. I try to shake from my head the sight of Rika on top of this tree, exhibiting herself for me for no apparent reason. The way her back arched when she slipped out of her sweater, the abandon with which she discarded her garments. And how now, she acts like nothing is out of the ordinary.

I look at the various dorm windows, all of which either have the curtains drawn or the lights off. I wonder if anyone saw her? Or me? Would Rika even care?

Her head rests on my shoulder and she heaves a deep, worrying sigh.

“Something on your mind?” I ask.

“I just hate exam week,” she says. Not what I was expecting from her.

“I thought you didn’t care about exams?”

“I don’t,” she says flatly. “But everyone else does.”

I blush deeply. It hadn’t occurred to me that Rika might feel even more segregated at this time of the year, when everyone is busying themselves with thoughts of the future, flaunting their successes, contemplating university. I’m not much better myself for having tried to impress upon her the importance of exams earlier today in the coffee shop.

Maybe that’s why she tries to put the fear of death in me every chance she gets. Because she doesn’t want to be the only one that feels that way.

I look at her beautiful face, obscured from the light of the sky but practically bursting out of the darkness. Her shiny silver bangs fluttering in the breeze, her long braid hanging out of her hood and resting against her chest. And that matchless face of hers. The worst enemy of her love of espionage. Brighter than any feature in the night. She looks so strange, almost supernatural. “Not like other girls,” as she said to me last night.

“I just,” she starts speaking, and then cuts herself off, looking at me weakly.

“Rika?”

She shakes her head, closing her eyes. “I just feel like you’re so far away right now. I couldn’t wait to see you again the whole time I was in the hospital.”

I furrow my brow at her. “Then why wouldn’t you let me come visit you?”

She lets go of my hand and folds her hands in her lap, looking away.

“You really just don’t get it, do you?”

My pulse gathers audibly in my ears. What did I say that was so wrong?

“I’m trying to get it, Rika,” I say cautiously, “but you can be so secretive sometimes. I’m not a mind reader. You can’t just expect me to always know what you mean, all the time.”

She clenches her eyes shut, a touch of colour coming into her cheeks, and she takes a shuddering, controlled breath.

“I wanted to see you. But not if it meant you had to be around. Knowing that you were back there at Yamaku, filling the empty space that I’d left there, living out my life… that made me feel like we were still together. If you saw me in the hospital,” she says, lowering her voice to almost a whisper, “well, I wasn’t really there, either.”

I rub my eyes with my right hand. After a day of cramming the mysteries of the high school curriculum into my tired brain, I lack the mental energy that it would take to properly construe Rika’s cryptic revelations. She seems to notice my annoyance, and a pained expression overtakes her. Rika doesn’t like to show her weakness, so I can understand how she wants to be as vague as possible whenever she’s emotionally exposed. But I just don’t have the energy for it tonight.

She sighs again. “Let me tell you a story about my mother.”

This is not what I was prepared for. From the look on her face, I think she’s a little delighted at my turn from frustration to intrigue. She leans back against the tree, still keeping her hands in her lap, and looks up at the sky in contemplation.

“My mom used to have dreams about being a career woman. She had a good job and a bright future. But when she got pregnant with me, she was fired. Just like that. My dad still worked, but he never made a lot of money at his job. She couldn't find work anywhere else, either, so she just ended up staying at home and taking care of me. They had to move to a smaller house, change their life around… you know. They used to fight a lot. I think my dad was always embarrassed that we had to downgrade our lifestyle. When I remember my mom, and what she used to be like, all I remember is a person who was tired all the time. A person who had to give up her dreams because of one bad choice she made. Sometimes they would fight about whose life was worse, who was sacrificing the most. I was always afraid they were going to get a divorce, and that me and my mom would be left alone.”

“You don’t have any brothers or sisters?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “No, they learned their lesson after having me. Imagine if your child was a ticking time bomb. Something you love like any mother would love its offspring, but also something you never wanted. And something that you might lose at any moment. Every day you’d have to question whether or not you really want the child to live at all. I can’t blame her for feeling that way.”

“Rika,” I stammer, but can’t think of anything else to say.

She looks away from me, making the distance greater, and goes on in her soft, contemplative tone. “When I became a teenager, my mother started seeing a therapist. And for the first time in my life, she seemed happy. She started smiling more, talking more. She and my dad grew closer again. And she stopped hating herself. And she stopped wondering what life would be like if I weren’t around anymore.”

“That’s good,” I say idly, and she shakes her head at me.

“No, you don’t understand. Nothing changed for her. Her problems were never solved. The only thing that changed was her. Her doctor had given her a prescription that made it easier for her to cope with life the way it was. And now that I’m gone, she’s still stuck in the same marriage, living the same tragedy, and she’s happy about it.”

“I don’t really see the problem with that.”

She sighs again, her voice starting to tremble. “The problem is that my mom is gone. I was looking forward to getting out of the house, coming and living here at Yamaku, because I thought it meant she would finally be able to have the life she always wanted. But she stopped wanting it. Now she’s gone, and that sad woman I always wanted to see happy will never be happy, because she’s gone. I wanted her to finally find what she wanted. I didn’t want her to go away.”

I put my hand on Rika's and look her in the eyes, grappling with her gaze. Tears are starting to gather in the corners of her eyes. She looks a little self-conscious, for a change. A complete about-face compared with the reckless figure I just saw exhibiting herself outside my window.

She puts her hand on her forehead, pushing back her bangs, and closes her eyes again.

“That’s why I don’t like the person I am in the hospital. Or the person I am on medications. You don’t know what it’s like for me in there, Hisao. All my life, doctors have been monitoring me, studying me, filling me up with drugs, treating me like a specimen. Everyone wants to know more about my condition and how to fix it. ‘For the future,’ they tell me. Once my doctor said to me, ‘Rika, you are going to help so many people.’ Can you imagine? And all they want to do is change me. Change the person I am until I'm impervious to death. But I’m sick of pretending my problem isn’t real, Hisao. I don’t want to be the person that I am when I’m on medications, or in a hospital ward… this little life that I have, this problem, it’s not theirs. And I don’t want to be better if it means I’ll be a different person. I’m sick of people trying to make me live forever. I just want to be left alone.”

The last word punctuates her sentence with a poignant efficacy. Once more the silence of the courtyard overwhelms me with the urge to say something. Maybe Nurse was right to suspect that she’d gone off her medications?

[Rika, your life is yours. I just want to be here for you.]
http://pastebin.com/q6bncnZ7

[Rika, getting better doesn’t mean you have to stop being yourself.]
http://pastebin.com/aJwK7u0j