All Good Things [Hisao]

It's that time of the year again. A time for memories, to look back on all that we've done in life and reflect on the people that have made it so special. Everyone should have at least one person like that, one who lights up their world. Everyone deserves a chance at happiness, wherever they might find it.

I found mine a few years ago while walking the halls of Yamaku Academy: a silent angel with sapphire eyes. She proved to be everything I could've asked for. Not to say she was without her flaws: hypercompetitive, socially awkward, and stubborn to the ends of the earth. She always put her foot down when it was needed or was convinced that her way was the best. It was her that said we were moving into the country, even with her company to be run. She would work remotely and I could teach at the local school. It would be enough to get by financially while raising our children in solitude.

She also rejected the notion of them being raised in a mansion. Too many things could go wrong, they might end up being spoiled, we don't need that much space... I quickly learned to smile and nod, just so I could get along with my day.

But life was good. We made it through the years day by day, taking each obstacle as it came. That was what she always encouraged me to do: focus on the here and now, but keep your eyes on the future. You'll get there eventually.

The house is barren right now. I'm expecting an old friend later this afternoon. She said she'd be here around half past one, so I have plenty of time to relax and get ready. Even in its emptiness, the place is a mess. At the very least, it will keep me busy. This will be the first time I've seen her in almost a year now, and I'd rather her not think me a slob. I can just imagine what she'd say....

“Honestly, what would Shicchan say if she saw this? You're lucky she's so busy all the time or she'd probably have your hide!”

Yeah, that sounds about right. She developed a certain snarkiness while overseas in the Americas. I'm not sure how much it suits her, to be honest.

I decide to get started on my work. It's a useful distraction from the mundane, and it helps me keep my mind off anything that's troubling me. I've found that harder to do on my own recently. One of my fellow teachers said I should see a doctor about it. After spending a few months in the hospital over a broken heart, I think I'd rather steer clear of anything medical. At least for right now.

A few choice memories bubble up while sorting through loads of laundry. The fondest one never escapes me: a moonlit night in early August, celebrating the stars' romantic reunion. It was more than that to me and my lover, though. It was when -we- came together, when she decided to take a chance and let me into her life. I've always been grateful that she did.

There are a few bad ones. The whole love triangle thing was a pain in the neck, at least at the time. Thankfully, we were able to figure it all out.

And then there was graduation. Back to the sweet longing of yesteryear. “I feel like we'll meet again.” She had no idea how right she was.

The doorbell rings. I stop drying my current dish, checking my watch. It's only ten past one, is she early?

The dish falls back into the sink with a splash and I rush for the door. Standing in the opening is a short, brown-haired girl, her golden eyes wide and beaming. “Hi, Hicchan! Long time no see.”

It's been seven years since high school and she still calls me that. I suppose some people never change. “Hey, Misha,” I reply, voice tired and cracking. “You're early.”

“Sorry,” she replies with a smile. It's almost infectious. Almost. “Traffic wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.” She holds her hands behind her back, swaying her hips. Even after all this time, she still retains that playful nature from her childhood.

“Alright, come on in.” I keep the door open, and she accepts the invitation. “You'll have to forgive the mess, I'm not quite done cleaning!”

She heads right for the kitchen. “It's not a problem! Not like you're trying to impress me or anything, right?”

I follow right behind her. She's already seated at the table, playing with a small flower from the centerpiece. “Can I offer you anything?” I ask. “Tea, beer, coffee?”

“Thanks, but I'm fine. I ate lunch before coming over.” Right. Food. I haven't done that yet.

“Suit yourself. I'm going to make something quick for myself, though.” She nods in understanding.

I raid the fridge, looking for anything that could pass as food. There's some leftover rice from last night that I can heat up, and I can just throw together some vegetables or something with it. I decide that's as good a plan as any, tossing the plate of rice in the microwave while washing a few pre-chopped carrots and onions.

“So, Hicchan.” Misha draws my attention from lunch. “You ready for today?”

“Yeah, I think so. I've been thinking about it for a while. Guess you could say I'm anxious.”

“Well, who wouldn't be? We haven't seen Shicchan in over a year now. Who wouldn't be excited?”

I chuckle. Yeah, when you haven't seen your wife in over a year, I guess it makes sense to be anxious. I'm not sure if excited is the right word, though.

I scarf down my lunch quickly, too fast to taste any of it. We're in a rush. Places to go, people to see. There's only a small timeframe we have to work with, and it's getting smaller by the minute. Once I'm done, I let my plate slip into the sink. I'll finish up dishes later. She's more important than any dishes, even if she would kill me for not having them done.

Misha jingles her keys, beckoning me out to her vehicle. There's a long drive ahead of us, at least an hour with all the backroads we'll have to go down. Don't even get me started about driving on the highway these days. People are stupid, and I'd rather not deal with them.

We climb into her car, she starts it up, and our journey begins. We don't talk much, if at all. My lack of sleep, the slow hum of the engine, and our collective silence is enough to make my eyelids droopy. Heavy. They start to fall slowly, and my world goes black.

------- July 14, 2014:

I tap my foot against the floor. Impatient. When am I going to hear news? It's been six hours since she was supposed to deliver. Six. Whole. Hours. With all the advancements in medical technology, you'd think they could at least stand to deliver a baby on time.

I stand up and start to pace around the waiting room. There's enough to worry about without the added stress of no news. My mother always said that no news is good news, but that doesn't sit well with me when the birth of my child is concerned.

The clock keeps ticking. Each second worries me more and more. Part of me wants to barge in, demanding to be told -something-. Anything. I just want to know, dammit! We've been in this for nine months, and we're so close to the finish line. This is the home stretch, and I refuse to be left out of the loop.

I head toward the room where she's being held. A nurse at the desk notices me and rises to her feet. “Sir, where are you going?”

“To find out what's going on in there. And you won't stop me.”

She continues yelling, but I keep moving. A man on a mission.

Before I come to her room, a man in white steps out. He eyes me from down the hall, carrying a small clipboard in his hands.

He approaches me. “Nakai-san, yes?”

“Yeah, that's me,” I respond sternly. “You the one in charge of the birthing?”

“Yes, Doctor Sasaki, at your service. I was just coming to tell you the news, but it seems you've come to me instead.”

“And? How is she doing? What about the baby? Tell me everything!”

------- July 14, 2015:

I jolt forward. What a dream. Flashback, almost. It was so similar to what happened that day.... Where are we?

“We're here, Hicchan.” Misha unbuckles her seatbelt, putting down the parking brake. “Are you ready?”

I think for a moment, trying to refresh my memory. I'm still in that groggy state right after waking up. Slowly, it comes back to me. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” I unbuckle my own seatbelt, and we climb out of the car. The gravel of the unfinished parking lot contrasts against bright green grass. A great stone chapel rises nearby, its steeple seeming like it could touch the sky.

We head toward the fenced-in field. Misha opens the cast-iron gate. The path is well-beaten, trodded on for decades by countless pairs of feet. Ours are just another set, and we are only two more come to pay respects to fond memories. Two more who felt the pangs of loss, who have slowly tried to rebuild their lives with a key piece missing. A lover, a best friend, a parent, a child... all of these things are buried here among the stone structures.

We stop by one in particular. The one I bought a year ago now. It bears my family name, carved into the top of the stone. This is where my parents are buried, after I secured it for them. It was originally for them. But now four souls rest beneath the earth, a full year later since that day in the hospital. Their names are etched into the surface. So is mine, covered in red ink.

Shizune. And Shiina. My wife, and who would've been my daughter.

When the doctor told me, I was nothing short of awestruck. Shizune was already gone, and our little girl was going with her? No. No, it couldn't end like this. Not after all we had worked for, not after everything we did to make sure it turned out perfectly, not after deciding to name her after the girl who had made so much of a difference in our lives.

Misha puts her hand on my shoulder, and I fall to my knees. I place my hand on the red ink covering my name, waiting to be removed when it's my time to join them. She asks, “Are you okay?”

About as okay as I can be. I inhale deeply and let it out slow. “Yeah. I'm still a blubbering mess, aren't I?” I wipe a tear from my eye.

“In your own way. But time heals all wounds, yeah?”

I'm not sure time will ever heal this one, Misha. I might just stay broken for a while. Keeping the house clean like she's coming back tomorrow, pretending to do something with my life by still teaching.... She'd be proud of my drive, I think. I hope.

“Come on,” Misha says, gripping me by the arm and lifting me up to my feet. “Let's head back. No sense in staying here past our welcome.”

I frown. I would stay here forever, if I she would let me. It's a good thing she's here. She still looks out for me, despite everything that's happened between us since then. All the rebuilding of our lives, coping with the heartache and finding a new place in the world. We still have each other. I'm eternally grateful for that.

We start back toward her car. She keeps her hand on my shoulder, reassuring. In the end, this is what keeps me going. Without her, I wouldn't be here today.

As our footsteps beat on, I can hear her mumbling to herself.

“All good things come to an end....”