Dark As The Sky (Suzu route Act 2-5)

Dark As The Sky


Over the next few days, life steadily returns to what passes for normal. Miki's phantom pains come and go, just like my insomnia, and both of us are lucky enough to be enjoying a reprieve for now. In the blink of an eye, it's Sunday. Finally, a day without having to go to class, or sleep through class, or come from class. In my experience, it's something best celebrated by sleeping until noon, at the earliest.

My alarm goes off at the regular time, but I quickly put an end to any such nonsense. It's Sunday, we are not playing that game. Instead, I root around for my phone on my nightstand. When I find it, I pull it to my fortress of blankets and pillows, and flip it open. The bright lights sting my blurry eyes, but I don't need to use it for long. I take the time to set the ringer volume to maximum, and then set my phone back down before returning my head to its rightful place, buried beneath my pillow.

Sunday means I can expect a call from home. Mom usually calls sometime in the afternoon, but since I can't really make sure I'll be awake when she does, the safest bet is to ensure that my phone is loud enough to wake me up. Which is sometimes loud enough to wake up the rest of the floor. But sacrifices must be made.

For now though, I'm sure that the world will be just fine without my presence for... a couple hours more at least. I roll over to face away from the sunlight filtering through my window, carefully adjust my legs to avoid twisting my injured knee, and then wriggle into the most comfortable position possible. Now where was I? Oh yeah. Me, Taro and Akio were building a cabin in the woods and Miki had gone to catch some fish, and there was a bear but...

A few hours later I'm awoken by another loud blaring noise, but this time it's coming from my phone. I feel my dream slip away from me like... like something already slippery that's covered in oil or other such things. That sounds almost impossible to--phone, right. Here, this button makes the noises stop.

Beep.

“Helgsbhr.”

“Good morning, Suzu dear.” My mother's voice calls out from the other end. I weakly hold the phone against my ear with one hand while slumping back into a laying position.

“Morning?” I clamp my eyes shut, keeping them open feels wrong and vaguely painful at the moment.

“Afternoon then. But I can tell I woke you up, so it sounded appropriate.”

“Oh, I see. Very funn...”

“Wake up, Suzu.” My mom raises her voice, gently but firmly. I open my eyes again.

“I'm here, I'm here mom. What's new?”

We then begin our normal, routine conversation, the one we have every Sunday. Mom talks about dad and the family business, I talk about Yamaku, the literature club, things like that. My knee is doing just fine, mom. Miki's fine too, thanks for asking. Yes I know exams are coming up, no I'm not looking forward to them. Yes, I'm sure I'll do fine too. I'm not even holding the phone to my ear anymore, relying entirely on gravity.

Then, the conversation takes an unusual turn, one I probably should have seen coming if not for slippery, oily things. And bears. Oily bears?

“Did you hear me, Suzu?” My mom asks.

“What?”

“I asked how things are going with that boy. You know, the one you were with at the festival?”

Things are fine. I think. I'm pretty sure. Hisao's been eating lunch with us every day lately, and his mood seems to have improved. And he's still interested in the literature club, so that's good too. But I can't tell my mom all that. She doesn't need to know, and besides, she might tell--

I hear a muted voice on the other end of the phone, and my mother gives a playful sigh.

“And your father would like to remind you that you're not allowed to date until you're twenty six.” She says.

I can't help but smile, even though I know they can't see it. Dad is always like this. He doesn't really mean any of it. Probably. It took him a long time to accept that he couldn't protect his daughter from her own brain. Now he just fusses and clucks, knowing that after everything that's happened, Yamaku is still the best place for me to be right now.

“So when do we get to meet this boy, Suzu?” My mother asks warmly. I can feel myself beginning to wake up. Serious questions are being asked, far too serious for this early in the morn--afterno--whenever.

“Maybe you can bring him with you the next time you come home for a visit? You said you have a three day weekend coming up before long, right?”

I crack one eye open, staring into space. I don't like to think about this kind of thing. Too far ahead. Too much strategy involved, I'm only good at doing things one turn at a time.

“Mom, that's like a month away. I don't even know if we'll still be friends by then.”

“Don't be silly. Well, boy or not, it will be good to see you again. We're all looking forward to it.”

I open both eyes now, staring across my room at nothing. A long pause fills the air, the only sounds being the faint chirping of birds outside and the tiny hiss of static coming from my phone.

“Suzu dear? Are you awake?

Trying not to think, I take a breath, then let it out. Take a breath, let it out.

“I'm here, mom. It will be good to see you too. Say hi to dad for me.”

“I will. Oh, one last thing, he wants to know if you've gone over those college papers we sent you.”

Now with something to look for, my gaze slowly drifts around my room. They were on my desk at one point, but now I see a few sheets, brochures, and fliers scattered around my floor that may or may not fit the profile of the mound of documents that arrived in the mail last week. The answer is no, I haven't read them yet. Or, I started to, and then I had to stop.

“Are you there? Suzu?” I don't answer. I'm not even pretending to be asleep this time. I just don't know what to say.

The silence stretches for even longer than before. My mother waits, probably in hopeful anticipation, but then I hear her voice.

“Well, I'm sure you'll get around to it eventually. We love you, Suzu. Hope to see you soon.” Her cheerful voice only serves to drive the final guilt-ridden nail into my coffin. She hangs up, and I'm left alone with only my thoughts echoing through my slightly fuzzy head, the afternoon sun making a respectable effort at forcing me to greet the coming day.



“I'm glad you could drop by.” He says, smiling brightly. I wish I could return that smile, I really do. But I can't, not here, and not now.

“I hope you're ready Suki, cause I won't go down without a fight.” His expression grows thoughtful as he studies his side of the board game set out on the table. I pay the pieces in front of me no heed, instead staring intently at the boy sitting across from me. Every detail is exactly how I remember it. His messy hair, the sloppily done tie, the bags under his eyes. It's like looking at a photograph. Or a cracked mirror. He glances up at me again, and I look away, unable to meet his gaze.

“I thought you said you were letting me win.”

He laughs, a sound like a spring morning. I've missed that laugh. I wish I wasn't hearing it now.

“That doesn't mean I have to make it easy for you.”

“I don't appreciate the mindgames.”

He spreads his hands, smiling like a shark. “Are you telling me you prefer the usual getup?”

“Yes.” I can't believe I'm saying I would rather see a skeleton in a black robe, but it's the truth. This isn't right. This isn't fair.

Death grins, a wide, toothy grin that looks alien on the face he's borrowing.

“I'll see what I can do. In the meantime though, D8.”

We go back and forth, my opponent continuing to make the occasional fanged remark. I play along halfheartedly, just hoping that I'll wake up again soon. But then something catches my interest. I hadn't even been paying attention to the game, but now I see the stack of pieces laden with red pips, dumped haphazardly on my opponent's side of the table. There are four ships there.

He only has one left.

“Your turn, Suki.” He says with a smile.

I try remember the past few moves. My own pieces are still in pretty good condition. How long has the board been like this? I don't know, I don't know.

Death clears his throat.

“A1.” I blurt out. Corner shot, almost definitely a miss, but I still have enough pieces to keep hunting down--

“Hit.” He says, his expression unreadable.

I take another look at the ships in his scrapheap. Carrier, battleship, submarine, destroyer. The only one missing is the patrol boat. Which can only take two hits.

I suck in a breath, wide awake now. So to speak. I mean. I could win this. He only has one ship left, I know where it is, it only has one hit to go. And I still have all of my pieces, there's no way I can lose before my next turn.

I could win this.

“E4, Suki.” The boy across from me speaks up. I find myself looking straight into those eyes now.

“Miss.” I breathe. He smiles.

“It's your turn.” He says.

My heart is beating firmly in my chest. A2. That's all I have to say. One letter and one number are all that stand in my way. But. But.

What happens if I win? I remember asking that question before. I had been scared to lose at the time, but now I find myself just as terrified of winning. Maybe it's a trick. Maybe he'll just smile and pull out some even more annoying game. Maybe he'll get mad again. A year's worth of battleship, and I'd never won or lost before. Some stupid part of me had almost gotten used to this, almost accepted it. Why now? What do I do?

“Come on, Suki.” I'm snapped out of my daze as my opponent calls out to me cheerfully.

“Don't you want to see the sun set over the power lines?” He says, smiling warmly.

I wake up.


My eyes are immediately accosted by the rays of a late afternoon sun. I cover them with one hand as I slowly take in my surroundings. My back is against one of the trees on the school grounds. There are students out walking or having picnics on the grass, enjoying the last hours of their Sunday. Sitting leaned against the same tree as me is Hisao, a book perched in his hands. Noticing my moving, he sets it down to look over at me.

“There you are.” He smiles. “Did you win?”

“Did I what?” I answer groggily. My head still feels heavy, the warm air certainly isn't helping me wake up.

“You were mumbling something about a game in your sleep. Did you win?”

I look at the boy next to me for a long moment, then shift my gaze to the bright blue sky, which is slowly starting to grow tinged with orange.

“Don't you want to see the sun set over the power lines?” I mumble.

“What?”

I glance back at Hisao, who sits there watching me curiously.

“It's something that someone used to tell me, a long time ago.” I look back at the sky. “To get me out of the house.”

I can tell he's thinking about it, but Hisao decides not to press further, and I breathe an inward sigh of relief.

“Well you certainly are out of the house right now. Can I ask why? I was wondering why some girl walked over to me and promptly fell asleep in the grass.” He cracks a grin, and I feel my face grow a little bit red. Nothing is worse than passing out in front of strangers. Being woken up to worried or sometimes sneering expressions. Having to explain that no I'm not drunk or anything, my head just doesn't work right. Hoping that someone either caught me and let me down easy or that I landed on something soft. Even now, the various bandages and bruises scattered beneath my clothing are a reminder that any rest could be paid for in pain.

But I'm not here to mope. I came here for a reason. Right. That reason was... it was... oh, yeah.

“I was looking for you.”

“For me?”

I nod. “There's a track meet coming up this next week, Miki wanted to know if you'd come cheer her on.”

The way Miki had worded it, she seemed more interested in sitting me on the bleachers next to Hisao than wanting him there for support. It doesn't sound like that bad an idea, but I can't tell him that. Is this being dishonest? It's Miki's plan though, I'm just a helpless victim in all this.

“A track meet? Oh yeah, she's on the team, that's right.” He appears to think for a moment. “Sure I'll come. You'll be there too, won't you?”

Ulp. I feel my cheeks begin to burn again, just a tiny little bit. Hoping that the setting sun will cover it up, I give another nod. “I always go. It's nice to have someone to sit with though, last time I drifted off and kind of fell off the bleachers.”

Hisao winces, his eyes flickering to the brace on my knee. Oh no, that's not where that came from. That's an even better story, one for another day. Maybe.

“You came all the way out here to ask me that? You could have just texted me.”

“I don't have your number. And you'd better come, I had to hunt you down. I even looked for you in the boy's dorms. The guy across the hall from you is weird.”

Hisao looks worn out at the very mention of his dorm mate. “You talked to Kenji, huh?”

I frown in irritation at the memory. “I tried to. He said you weren't there, then accused me of planting listening devices and threatened to call the army.”

He laughs. “Let me guess, he thought you were a sleeper agent for the feminists?”

“Oh, you think you're so funny.” I lean over to punch him in the arm, but a sudden wave of fatigue robs me of the strength to return to resting against the tree. I end up sinking to the grass, looking and feeling like a sack of potatoes falling over sideways.

“Ack.” I mumble, and then yawn. I just woke up, I shouldn't be so tired already. What did I dream about? Oh, yeah. That.

“Sorry, I shouldn't be making light of your... condition.” Hisao stumbles over the words, sounding apologetic. Eager to have something else to think about, I roll over to look at him, one side of my face still pressed against the ground.

“It's okay. That was a good one, actually. And I've heard a lot.” Hisao looks relieved to hear it, and I find myself smiling.

“My dad used to s--” Pthft, grass in my mouth. “--used to say, 'there are some times when you can either laugh or cry. And crying is for girls.'”

Hisao chuckles. “Your dad sounds like an interesting guy.”

“Oh, he is.” My eyes drift from the sideways boy in front of me to somewhere off in the distance, which happens to be the patch of black that is the grass right in front of my face. “He laughs a lot.”

“Can I ask you something, Suzu?” Hisao looks curious, and a little bit apprehensive too. After the last big question he had though, I don't even bother reacting.

“Fire away.” I raise my eyebrows. The effect is probably lost when you're rotated 90 degrees.

“What's it like, being a narcoleptic?” He stares at me, his gaze inquisitive. It's nowhere near the first time I've been asked that, but I don't mind. I'm reminded that Hisao has some problem of his own that he's facing down too. Maybe helping him understand me better might help him understand himself a bit, too.


“Well...” I turn onto my back, then push myself up to rest on my elbows. I'm sure bits of grass are sticking to my shirt, but I can't bring myself to care right now. The sun is setting.

Where do I start? “I was diagnosed when I was six years old. It can run in families, but neither of my parents have it. Um. A lot of narcoleptics have cataplexy, which is where strong emotions make you lose all muscle control. I don't have that, though.”

Hisao looks aghast. “That sounds awful.”

“It can be, yeah. But I'm one of the lucky ones, I just have 'excessive daytime sleepiness', and sometimes sleep paralysis. And it's not uncommon to have hallucinations when waking up or going to sleep.”

The look on Hisao's face hasn't changed much. I continue.

“Sometimes my mind goes to sleep but my body doesn't, and it keeps doing whatever I was doing at the time. That's called automatic behavior. Like, I'll keep writing the same thing in my notes over and over again until I wake up. I sleepwalk sometimes, and sleeptalk too. Not very often though.”

“And then there's the insomnia.” Losing strength in my arms, I let myself sink back down onto the grass, staring straight up at the fading sky. I almost feel like I'm on a couch somewhere, talking to a psychiatrist. This is a lot cheaper though, probably.

“You're kidding.” Hisao says.

“Nope.” I sigh. “It comes and goes. Sometimes I can't sleep for a night, sometimes it's for a week or two.”

I hear grass rustling next to me, and look over to see Hisao lying down beside me. He's frowning in concern, it's cute. I give him a smile.

“It's okay though. Some people have it a lot worse than me. They can't even live by themselves, or they feel like they're in a dream almost all the time.”

One particular story comes to mind. “Some people even have to wear helmets around their own houses.” Picturing it makes me wince, and I see Hisao mirror my expression. But I try again to reassure him.

“But I'm not like that. I just can't really go places by myself, and stairs aren't my friends. I wish Miki liked books more, at least then she'd have something to do when she's waiting for me to wake up. I feel bad.”

“That's not a problem for me though.” Hisao smiles.

I laugh. He does have a point. There are times when I really wish I could go off and do things by myself though. It must be pretty boring to spend a lot of time with a narcoleptic. I'd make a terrible date. Um. But maybe like he said, he could bring a book or something. Anyway. Anyway.

“So yeah. That's about it, I think. It could be better, it could be worse. I've had a lot of time to get a handle on things.”

Hisao nods sagely. I think that's one thing that he might really be looking for. Being around all these kids with special conditions, not to mention being one of them himself, must be pretty strange for him. But he's getting used to it, I can tell. It's a good feeling, watching him slowly settle in.

Looking at the boy laying in the grass next to me, I'm really glad that I passed out that day and woke up in the nurse's office. If I hadn't gotten to talk to him then, we might never have become friends. I'm pretty sure now that he wouldn't be more happy hanging out with the student council, and I've gotten used to having him around. This is kind of nice, actually, talking like this. It's something I wouldn't mind doing more often.

“Sooo.” I look Hisao in the eyes, and he stares back. “What's it like to be a... boy who... wears sweater vests?” I end my question with a shrug.

Hisao's expression grows cloudy, but he rolls with the punch. “What do you have against my sweater?”

“Nothing at all, it's just that it's Sunday and you're reading a book on the school grounds. You're not even going anywhere.”

I let out a mock gasp and raise my eyebrows. “So that's your secret! Your disability is poor fashion sense!”

He grimaces, and then turns his head to look up. I notice that a few stars have started to come out.

“I like my sweater. And you're one to talk, I've only ever seen you wearing the school's uniform.”

“Fine then, I'll dress up for the track meet. You'll see, it'll knock you right out.”

I'm pleased to see the grin spread across his face. Hisao rolls his eyes. “Fine then, I'm looking forward to it.”

I'm curious as to what Hisao's reason for being here at Yamaku really is. But I'm not going to drill him about it. We all have things that we find hard to tell other people. It could be something as little as carpal tunnel or diabetes, or it could be something that might kill him in six months, it's impossible to know. So I'll keep having moments like this, and one day, when he's ready, I hope he'll tell me. Before he dies of some rare medical condition that causes sweater vests and awkwardness.

“Suzu? Hey.” The voice of the boy next to me wakes me up. Was I sleeping? I thought I was thinking. Maybe I thought I thought I was thinking. But I'm awake now. I think.

“It's getting late, it'll be curfew soon.” He stands up, walks a little closer, and then extends a hand down to me. I look at his outstretched hand, then to the stars that have begun littering the now night sky. The brilliant expanse reminds me of home, and I'm grateful that Yamaku is set far away from any big cities that tend to steal away the starlight.

“I was going to make a wish.” I say slowly. Maybe I did fall asleep, I certainly feel like I'm waking up now. “But I don't know which one I saw first.”

I reach up and take his hand, and Hisao hoists me to my feet. The warm evening has fully given way to cool night air by now. I look up at the stars again, then back at Hisao.

“I got nothing.” I say flatly.

He shrugs. “Maybe you should sleep on it.”

I nod, trying not to smile. “I'm sure that won't be a problem.”


We part ways after Hisao promises to come to the track meet. It's not until next Sunday, but time flies when you're having fun or unconscious. I stumble back to my room, kick off my shoes, and make sure that I don't have any homework due the next day before collapsing into my bed.

As tired as I am, tonight is another night where sleep seems to elude me. My head is swimming with thoughts of today's events and refuses to shut down, even as the hours begin to drain away and fly by. Again, I've got that zombie feeling, tossing and turning in my bed. Finally, I open my eyes and peer at the outline of the fuzzy blob on my table. The stretch of carpet that divides us is still devoid of padding, either I keep forgetting to clutter it or I somehow keep policing the path in my sleep.

I don't want to walk on that clean floor, but I have class tomorrow and I'm desperate. I lay in my bed for a long moment, thinking it over.

Okay.

I slip out of the bed, and, taking long, quick strides, walk over to the table. I snatch up the stuffed animal and beat a hasty retreat, throwing myself back into my bed and wrapping my arms around my prize. The squishy mass fits surprisingly well next to me. I hug it tightly.

I close my weary eyes, and the world fades away.