Going the Distance

Going the Distance

20 years. It had been 20 since he nearly died for the third time, 25 since he nearly died for the second.

The elderly Dr. Hisao Nakai slowly lifted himself from his seat, and just as slowly walked to the window. The room he had been sitting in was sterile- oh, it had a few comforts here and there, and a Tezuka original hung over one wall, but apart from the barest minimum in furniture, it was empty, lifeless.

As it did for the past two decades, his mind filled with idle thoughts of simply leaning over and letting gravity do the work. God knows, he missed the rush of speed. But while they had once been strong, tempting, near irresistible, they were no more than passing fancies these days.

"Grandpa? Are you all right?"

Hisao turned around, meeting his great-grandson's concerned eyes. "I'm perfectly fine, Kenji," the old man grinned; his sole unmarried grandson was as far from the madman of Hisao's youth as can be. Hisao normally had a live-in nurse staying there, but as today was a special occasion she had been given the day off. "Just needed a breath of fresh air for my old bones. It's good for them, and I'm a doctor, so I should know."

"Not a medical one, Grandpa."

"What are you talking about?" Hisao asked. "It's Physics I've got a Ph.D in, don't I? Big part of 'physical', practically half the damn word! Of course I know about keeping myself physically healthy!"

"That doesn't make any sense, Grandpa."

"Ah, see, now we're moving into the realm of -Quantum- Physics."

Ah, laughter, Hisao mused with a smile. That was something he'd come to treasure over the years. More than his academic accolades, more than the Nobel (which he shared with a massive research team, so it didn't really count)- simple laughter was what kept him going- that, and his family. Today, he had both, especially since it was his centennial birthday. Relatives from all around the world were going to converge on the apartment Hisao insisted on living in, despite his sizable personal fortune. Everybody knew why, but nobody wanted to talk about it.

Certainly not Kenji, who was missing out on an important football tournament by being here. "Stick to the team, lad," Hisao said, as he ate something that could only be called 'food' thanks to its nutritional content. "You're a horrible cook."

"Sorry Grandpa, but it's the best way to keep you alive for your next century," Kenji joked, having become used to his great-grandfather's ribbing over the past week.

"I don't want to live another century," Hisao snapped. Even through somewhat-cloudy eyes, he saw Kenji freeze. [Damn, I'm really getting senile,] Hisao thought. "What I want is a breakfast that at least looks like real human food, like what real humans eat!" he added, trying to make it sound like he was joking.

And failing miserably. Kenji once told him that playing football successfully involved reading other players as much as it involved fancy footwork, and Hisao knew that Kenji saw right through his ruse. "Y-yeah, well," his great-grandson said, trying (and failing) equally hard to keep up the facade of gaiety, "that's for being a cranky old grump earlier."

"I'm a hundred years old, I'm entitled to being grumpy and cranky. Just like I'm entitled to a little respect from my grandchiddlers, and a lot of respect from my great grandchiddlers," Hisao retorted, hamming up the 'old fogey' act for all it was worth. At least the scenery tasted better than his slop.

"Y-yeah..." Kenji stammered again, before conversation died away, and Hisao sighed. And things were going along so well.

"Look, Kenji," he began with a soft sigh. "Don't worry, I'm not going to try jog myself to death again," he added, not noticing how his great-grandson swallowed. Kenji had been eight at the time, and had never been a late sleeper. Which was why he'd been the first to find Hisao crumpled up at the foot of the stairs, gasping for breath. Only a timely call to the hospital managed to save his life, not that Hisao didn't fight them every step of the way; he only relented when a large dose of tranquilizers was administered- later, doctors would remark that they were sure that if the heart attack didn't kill him, the tranquilizers would have. Thankfully, Hisao was in far better shape than they had expected.

And there was the irony, Hisao had mused in his darkest moods following his second chance at life. Once, he never expected to live past his thirties, if that. But he had survived his suicide attempt thanks to the efforts of a woman who had passed away 5 years before.

"Emi was always running ahead, never looking back," Hisao said, unthinking. Only the scrape of a chair next to him made the old man realize that he'd been thinking aloud, repeating 20-year old thoughts in front of Kenji. "I always thought she'd outlive me, you know? I had the gimpy heart, after all."

He looked into his breakfast. A king's banquet could have been laid out for him, and his appetite would be as dead as it was now. "What got me, what really got me was how... quiet it was. She went to sleep one night, and never woke up.

He smiled. "When we were seeing each other, she was always bugging me to wake up early for exercise. Get me and my heart in shape, you know?"

A long silence followed, broken only by the silence of their breathing. "Silly, I know, but it's just occurred to me- I'll never be able to return the favour."

Hisao broke down then, and Kenji went to embrace his great-grandfather, a little old man looking every moment of his 100 years.

*

It had been late morning by the time the other guests arrived; by the time they did, between the both of them Kenji and Hisao had managed to get Hisao cleaned up and presentable. By the time Hisao's own kids came through the door, looking every inch like sprightly 60-year olds instead of the 80-year old geriatrics they should have been, it was like Hisao's breakdown had never happened. For his part, Kenji kept quiet- great-grandchiddler's respect and all that. The apartment had filled his Nakais from every generation; there was little Fujiko, taking her first steps and saying her first word in front of a delighted Hisao; in one corner was George McKenzie-Nakai, birth name Kenji Johjima, and his British wife Emma (who ironically spoke Japanese better than he did); And over there was Jun, as much a clown in real life as he was on TV.

For all the revelry, the guests had to leave sooner or later, though they had promised that they would visit the next day; the hotel they were staying at was no more than a few blocks away after all. Even Kenji had to leave- his sister brought along a starstruck fan friend of hers, and Kenji soon found himself pressed to accompany her. Hisao simply waved them off. "I'll be all right," he told Kenji, when his great-grandson fussed over him; everyone save the fan herself could see that Kenji was doing his utmost to try get himself out of the date (okay, so maybe he shared some traits with Setou after all).

In the end, Hisao was left alone in his apartment once more. He looked up at the clock, and raised an eyebrow. How did he manage to stay up so late without keeling over? "Ah well, no time like the present," he mused, and hobbled off to bed, falling asleep as soon as he hit the sheets.

Ah, so it was this dream again.

He found himself on the Yamaku track, once more a young man of only 17 years, though no less frail than the old man he had become. Hisao knew how this dream would go; he'd run alone on the track, alone on this beautiful spring day. The sun would shine down on him with gentle warmth, he'd hear birdsong in the distance, but no matter how slowly he ran, he wouldn't her Emi chiding him, urging him to run faster. No matter how gently his footsteps fell, he still wouldn't be able to make out the metallic springing-

"Hey, Hisao! That the best you can do?" a voice sang out over the sounds of carbon fiber being tested to their limits.

Hisao gasped, and looked back. Sure enough, rapidly catching up with him was the fastest thing on no legs.

"You'll have to go faster if you want to catch up with me!" Emi laughed as she ran past Hisao, a rush of cool air marking her passing. Hisao grinned and lowered his body, his entire torso becoming as much a bullet as it would allow. His legs pistoned and launched him forward- Hisao swore he could hear the crack of displaced air, or him breaking the sound barrier, he wasn't sure which. Even so, it took a little time before he caught up with Emi, grabbing the petite girl in his arms and holding her close.

"Oh Emi, I've missed you," he said. He knew how corny it sounded, but as the tears ran down his face, he decided he just didn't give a fuck.

"I've missed you too, Hisao," Emi said, her own tears drenching the front of Hisao's shirt. "It's been way too long, hasn't it?"

"Tell me about it," Hisao whispered, grasping Emi tighter, when he felt her pull away.

"You first!" she said, a mischeivous grin shining through her tear-stained face. And with a laugh, she ran off once more. Hisao's own smile started spreading across his face- who was he to deny a lady? With that, he set off after Emi. He had been held back by shock and sorrow before, but now he found himself catching up to her easily. Even as they ran side by side, Hisao found himself talking to Emi about everything that had happened since she..

Since she...

He told her about Jun getting his own show, about Fujiko being born and what she did at the party("Her first word was 'cake', can you believe it?"), Kenji scoring the goal that won Japan's first World Cup, about Yuriko's stint in the army ("Yuriko?" Emi asked incredulously. "But she was such a hippie!")- all that and more, compressed into what seemed like the longest, yet least tiring run of Hisao's life- hell, save for the tears she had cried into his shirt, he was perfectly dry. In the end, small talk soon gave way to an enjoyable silence that they both enjoyed... until the finish line came into sight.

"Never looked like that before," Hisao said. In previous dreams, he'd reach the line and wake up before he had the chance for a another lap. Now though, he didn't see anything beyond the line- if the concept of 'ending' ever manifested in reality, it would look like what lay beyond the finish line.

"No, it didn't," Emi replied simply, keeping up the pace that Hisao had set.

Hisao nodded. "This- this isn't actually in my mind, is it?" he asked calmly, his gaze fixed firmly on what lay ahead. So this was how it would end.

"Was that a crack at my height? I can fit in here perfectly well, thank you!" Emi said in mock anger, before calming down again. "No, Hisao, this is all real, for lack of a better word. You ready?"

"I can think of better ways..." Hisao began, as he turned to the woman he loved. But as he turned, he noticed something he never did before- the audience seating. It was nearly full of children, but ones that he recognized. Yuriko, Jun, Naomi, Yoshi, Rika... his and Emi's children, their grandchildren, great-grandchildren.

Some were smiling sadly, some were waving, trying to keep a brave face through their tears. Some were laughing and cheering even as they wept rivers, telling Hisao to "Go for it, pops!" and that "We'll miss you!"

But alone on the front row was Kenji, a single red balloon in his hand. Hisao knew the look on his face all too well- it was the first thing he saw when he woke up at the foot of the stairs, the sight of an eight-year old boy wondering what happened to his Great-Granddaddy, the one who always had sweets, the one with the best stories. The one who had an explanation for everything, even the scary sounds from under the bed.

Hisao...slowed down, the sound of his feet pounding the track dying off as his fists clenched. He closed his eyes, as if to keep the tears in and force his words out. "Emi, I-"

He never finished the sentence; the finger Emi had placed across his lips made sure of that. "I know," she replied softly. "I know. To tell the truth, I never expected you to come with me."

"Then why-"

"Because you needed reminding, you ass!" Emi replied, slapping Hisao lightly on the shoulder. "You needed reminding that you've still got a course to run, am I right?" she added, turning to the 'audience' for the last part. A loud roar of affirmation greeted her. "See? Tell me, Hisao, through all our years of marriage- shit, right here on the track, did I ever let you quit?"

"No, no, you didn't," Hisao admitted.

"Then what the FUCK was that suicide attempt all about?!" Emi yelled. "You tried to give yourself a heart attack, Hisao! A fucking heart attack! I thought the idea was to STOP that crap from happening!"

"And whose fault was that?!" Hisao retorted. "You DIED, Emi! You died and left me... left me..."

" 'Left you' what, Hisao? Alone? Is that what you were going to say? I think they'd disagree!" she said, pointing to the audience stands.

She calmed down a bit then. "I- I didn't want to go, Hisao," she added softly, "but I couldn't help it. I wish I could have, but I went to sleep, and the next thing I knew, I was sitting on a park bench next to my dad." She looked up at Hisao. "If it helps, I begged him to let me go, but it wasn't his decision."

"But it's mine?"

Emi sighed. "I didn't make the rules, Hisao. Can't decide them either."

Hisao nodded. "Fair enough," he said. "Besides, it's obvious that you want me to stay anyway, and if there's one thing I've learned after sixty years, it's that I could never change your mind once you set it to something."

"Hey, you did once, remember?" Emi smirked. "Mind you, that's what got us married in the first place, so maybe it's good that you didn't do it too often," she said, to their mutual laughter.

It didn't last too long though, before Hisao pulled Emi close to him once more. "I'll miss you," he said.

"Not as much as the first time, I hope," Emi replied. "But just because my race is over, doesn't mean I won't wait for you at the finish line. You got that, Hisao?"

"Don't worry, Emi, I'll go the distance," Hisao replied.

"You'd better!" Emi pouted as she pulled away. "I've told dad all about you, and I'll be really embarrassed if he finds out I married a quitter. You wouldn't do that to poor little me, would you?"

"Don't worry, Emi, I won't- though you really didn't need to pull those puppy dog eyes."

Emi giggled. "Hey, case like this, a girl's gotta pull out all the stops!" she said, before softly placing her hand on Hisao's cheek. "See you at the finish line."

"See you too," Hisao replied, and he watched Emi run off into the distance, waving to her one last time when she turned to him near the end. All too soon, she was gone once again, but so was the void in Hisao's heart, something he realized as he turned to the audience stand and the cheer of his family deafened him.

Hisao woke up in his room. He looked at the clock- 6 AM, long before the alarm that he had always slept through after Emi's passing was supposed to sound. "Go the distance," he whispered, before going to the kitchen. Vegetables, a little chicken meat, some bread- he'd make it up to Kenji later. For now, he had breakfast and some light exercise to get to. After all, it was going to be a long day ahead with his family.

He placed a hand on his heart, and there was a moments' silence. "Race ya," he said, and dug in.