IT'S ALIVE!
Rumors of my demise were mostly false (mostly).
After the furious pace I set publishing new chapters previously, going this long (five weeks and then some) without an update feels really weird. I'd like to offer some kind of explanation to that effect, but there are a lot of factors; holidays, new MMO to play, other obligations, a healthy dose of writer's block, and a lot of time spent reworking the outline for the end of act 3 and much of act 4.
I've literally rewritten the entire last day at least a dozen different ways trying to hit the right narrative flow, and I scrapped a whole lot of different plot directions in the process. I don't want to complain too much, but I really did create a difficult set of problems to work out, and I can really only blame myself.
I'll stop babbling here and let you get started on the actual story; we'll talk again after you're done.
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Chapter 25 - Ups and Downs
With the lull of the afternoon, I decide to get my things packed up so I don't have to do so in a rush. Sitting on the lid so I can get the case zipped up, I wonder how I got everything in there before. Not that it really matters, but I don't think the addition of a few bathing suits should have made this much difference. Although it's admittedly much less well-organized than on the trip down, so I shouldn't be surprised.
Hearing a clamor coming from outside, I quickly force the zipper closed and hop down to the floor; the boys are back. Misha left the bedroom door open when she finished disassembling her mobile closet, so I can hear Tadao bellowing, “We have returned!” adding a rasp to his voice, “with meat!”
The pillaging expedition went well, apparently.
While I'm standing by the bed, I see Tadao run by carrying a brown paper bag under his arm. Taking a few steps back to lean into the room, he shoots me a sly, sidelong glance and whispers, “You saw nothing!” then tucks the bag further under his arm and darts away.
What...?
Before I can ask, he's already gone. Whatever he's hiding away, I don't think I really care. Actually, I know I don't care; or at least I don't want to know. All this secrecy is starting to get on my nerves.
Shaking my head, I glance down at the object in my hand and smile. Having packed it first, I'd forgotten about the shiny, silver anklet I'm now palming absently. The gift Hisao bought me for Tanabata got set aside in the aftermath of that night, and I almost forgot I'd packed it for this weekend. Rolling it over and grasping the little figurine between my thumb and forefinger, I don't notice the figure standing in the doorway.
“What's that?” Amaya asks, and I reflexively pull it behind my back.
Bad move.
“Oh, now I have to see~!” she says, stepping around to my side.
Trying to hide it, I drop it into my other hand and reveal the empty one. “It's nothing, see?”
Raising an eyebrow at me, she purses her lips and tilts her head; unconvinced by my sleight of hand. “It's shiny, silver and you were ogling it with that lost-girl look of yours. Now, give~!” she commands.
Rolling my eyes, I give up and reveal the anklet, holding it up for her to inspect. Finger on her chin like always, she squints at it for a few seconds before turning a sweet smile at me and asking, “Where'd that come from?”
“Hisao,” I mumble, feeling a blush rush to my cheeks.
“Aww~,” she croons, “it's adorable.”
Whether she really means that, or she's just being nice, I can't quite tell, but I smile anyway. After the fallout from Tanabata, I never had the chance to show it to her; or anyone else. Why I felt the need to hide it, I'm not certain, but I've hardly had the chance to look at it since. Perhaps I just haven't had the opportunity, or maybe I just wanted to keep it to myself.
…or maybe I don't think I deserve it.
Somehow that thought creeps into my consciousness, and it takes hold well enough to force a frown onto my face. This little memento, unassuming and quaint, represents something both exciting and terrifying. Even if I didn't have a million other problems, it would still mean a significant change had occurred in my relationship with Hisao; one I'm not sure I'm completely ready for.
Since meeting him, I've been trying to figure out what I'm doing; what we're doing. Early on it was simple; we were friends. We swam together most mornings, saw each-other at lunch, studied together, and spent most of the time laughing. Since Tanabata, that simplicity has gone out the window. Now there are deeper implications every time we meet, and expectations from our friends... and dire consequences if something goes wrong.
And I'm thinking about this entirely too much.
Amaya is staring at me, wearing a perplexed frown that looks more like a wince; as though she feels guilty about something. Tilting her head to the other side, she looks between me and the anklet, then opens her mouth as if to say something, but stops and shakes her head instead.
“You okay?” she mumbles meekly.
She knows me too well...
Unfortunately, I'm not ready to try faking my way out of her inquisition; especially not a surprise attack like this. After spending the past week trying to figure it out myself, I think I could use the help, though the timing could be better. Despite her sometimes boisterous approach, Amaya would make an excellent counselor; assuming she can keep the condescending tone out of her voice.
“I'm fine,” I claim, though I can tell she isn't taking that as an answer. Realizing I'll need to offer some kind of explanation, I clear my throat and start to add, “I'm just-”
“Don't try to bullshit me~!” she balks, placing her hands on her hips and eying me narrowly.
Put on the spot like this, I realize there's really just one nagging issue causing all of this worry and doubt; the truth. Not anything I've lied about directly, but something I've omitted from every conversation with Hisao, and willfully kept to myself: Dad's legacy. Even if things don't end up working out -which is a whole other set of worries- if they do, and I don't tell him I'm carrying this death sentence, and he eventually finds out, he could never trust me again.
At least I wouldn't trust me...
Amaya waits patiently -or at least she isn't pushing- settling into a concerned expression that I'd rather not see. At the very least, she knows the secret already so I shouldn't really have trouble talking to her about it, but she didn't exactly take it well. We haven't talked about it since last year.
Does she even remember?
“It's about my...” I say in monotone, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. Seeing her brow furrow in confusion, I steady myself with a breath and mumble, “condition.”
For a moment she smiles, but it's sapped away when she realizes what I mean. Immediately, her hand reaches out for the door and she swings it closed.
I'm surprised I didn't think of that.
Settling a very worried pair of eyes on me and reaching for my arm with a shaky hand, she breathes, “It's not starting already is it?”
“What?” I prompt, blinking and staring at her in confusion.
“I read it can start early!” she whispers loudly, her face turning pale.
Seeing her overreact isn't encouraging.
“No, not that!” I quickly reply, shaking my head. “Why would you even think that?” I ask, then quickly hold up a hand and add, “Don't answer that.”
“Okay, okay,” she says, blowing out a long sigh, “don't scare me like that!” To make her point, she punches my arm and scowls.
While I'm standing there rubbing the welt on my arm -which I probably deserved- my mind goes back to where it was before Amaya misinterpreted my rambling. Maybe it's the pain, or the frustration, or the fact that I'm just tired of thinking about it, but I really just want things to go back to the way they were before Tanabata; or maybe even before the Yamaku Festival. Despite all I've probably gained since then: new friends, more free-time, peace of mind, and even a boyfriend, I can't help but feel like I've lost something important – something precious.
Something I can't take back.
My eyes wander back to the anklet, and I take a few steps back to sit on the edge of the bed. Amaya follows, sitting next to me and waiting. A few minutes pass before I can bring myself to look at her forced smile and start shaking my head.
“I can't not tell Hisao about it, can I?” I blurt.
Scrunching up her face, her eyes narrow, and she starts biting her lip as my question seems to disagree with her. If I had a mirror in front of me every time I tried thinking about this, I imagine I'd look like Amaya does right now. Watching her, I realize it's not something she can really answer without seeming biased -no matter what she says- but I still want to hear it from her.
“I can't tell you what to do,” she says, offering a resigned shrug, “but he's gonna find out eventually.”
Yeah, that's the problem...
“Eventually...” I echo quietly.
“We all are,” she continues, sweeping a hand across empty space to indicate everyone else in the house, “when you're ready.”
That's a sobering thought...
After a short pause, she places a hand on my shoulder and smiles. Strangely, it's a genuine smile which is a little unnerving. “I'm glad you told me,” she says reassuringly, “it's not so bad, really. I mean, it was terrifying at first, but it's better than being surprised when you keel over.”
Hearing that, I can't help but smirk and reply, “Like you do sometimes?”
Nodding, she starts to reply, “Sure, like-” then cuts herself off and glares, “Hey!” She doesn't hit me, though; probably because what I said is pretty close to the truth.
After a much-needed giggle, which doesn't last long enough, I shrug and shake my head apologetically. Her expression shifts back to a more neutral pout while I think about what she said; it's not just Hisao that will end up needing to know.
Everyone around me will, at some point, have to find out about my death sentence. Maybe I shouldn't call it that, but I can't think of a better name. Maybe by the time it becomes important I'll know a whole dictionary full of euphemisms for having a short life-span, but today I'm not even thinking that far ahead. All I want to know right now is whether it will matter if I keep it to myself for a while longer.
Me, myself and Amaya, that is...
“So...” I trail off and wince, “I should tell him...?”
Although I wanted it to sound like a declaration, I can't help making it sound like a question. From the grim look on her face, I think she was hoping for me not to ask, but it's too late now. Usually she's so giddy and upbeat, like nothing can ever get her down, but this is really making her think. Although I find that comforting -it means she cares- part of me still doesn't want her to have to consider any of this.
For a second she opens her mouth as if to say the first thing on her mind, but she stops and stares at me instead. Leveling her eyes on mine, her eyes seem assured as she states, “You're afraid Hisao won't understand.”
For a second I want to agree, and I almost start nodding, but I know that isn't right. Letting her supposition stew for a second, I turn the anklet over in my hand and start absently rubbing the chain against my palm. Finally, I shake my head and say, “No, that's not it...”
When I trail off and continue staring at my hands, Amaya makes a confused grunt and falls silent. Taking a moment to steady myself, I roll the chain between my fingers and pick up Hisao's gift by the figurine.
When he gave it to me, I understood what it meant. He hadn't just gotten it because I asked; it meant something to him. The thought got lost in a hundred other worries, but he gave it to me because he cares; he wants to see me smile – probably as much as I want to see him smile. Thinking that makes me smile, and I can feel Amaya shifting as she watches and waits for me to continue.
Until Tanabata, or maybe shortly before, I was never really sure if Hisao was really interested in me, and I regret not realizing it sooner. Even afterward, I've continued to wonder if he really cares, or if I'm just fooling myself, and I know that's wrong too. The thought that he might not understand had never really occurred to me; I expected he would, but that seems to be the problem.
“I'm afraid he will,” I say, reverting to a monotone whisper, “and that scares me.”
Hisao will understand, and probably even sympathize. The problem is if he understands, that means two things: he accepts me the way I am, which is great, but it also means he's one step closer to being a pall-bearer at my funeral. Maybe that first point ought to override the second, but Hisao doesn't need extra worries; he has enough of his own.
Amaya, even being as smart as I know she is, doesn't know what to say. Her silence is fine, though, because I'm not doing any better. Until I get a chance to figure it out, I can hold out on telling him; maybe I could talk to Mom. Dad had to tell her at some point, so she at least has experience being on the receiving end of the conversation. At least there's no pressure to decide anything today.
“I'll be fine,” I say after a few long moments. “Thanks for listening,” I add, smiling as she turns to regard me, “I think I know who I can ask.”
“Your mom,” she says flatly, offering a weak smile. Shaking her head and pushing a bright smile out through her maudlin expression, she cheerfully adds, “is she coming to visit?”
“Midori too,” I reply, which turns her forced smile into a genuine smirk.
They've met on a couple occasions, though never under particularly good circumstances – which is something I'd like to see change. Before heading home for the summer last year, Amaya spent a few days hanging around with Mom, Midori and myself, and they got along like old friends; Mom treated Amaya like a third daughter. She doesn't know how alike I think she and Midori are, though.
“Is she still spouting Italian everywhere she goes?” she asks, grinning sardonically, “last time it was like we needed an interpreter~!”
Amaya's rapid change of mood, like always, helps lift me out of my melancholy. Just seeing a bright smile cross her mischievous face helps me forget what we were talking about. Whether she knows it or not, her uncanny ability to see the bright spot in anything has always been something I envy; it's something she shares with Midori.
“She never says anything important anyway,” I reply jokingly.
Laughing, Amaya stands and turns a thoughtful look at me, asking, “You're sure you're alright?”
“Yes, Mom!” I retort, returning a mocking smile. Nodding lightly, I point toward the boys' room and add, “go spy on Tadao, he was carrying a bag of-”
“Fireworks,” she interjects, rolling her eyes, “that dumbass is planning a light-show.”
That figures...
“Remember; he's your dumbass,” I reply, pointing a mocking finger at her.
“Are you calling me a dumbass?” she asks with a mocking pout.
“Yes... yes, I am,” I reply snidely.
A knock on the door interrupts our banter and Misha's voice follows soon after. “You girls decent?” she asks.
“Only by most definitions,” Amaya replies sardonically.
“Wahaha~!” Misha laughs, pushing her way through the door and making a bee-line for the bathroom. “I'll change in here,” she chirps, “we're gonna go swimming if you wanna join us~!”
Smiling at the idea, Amaya remarks, “I have my suit on under this for later...” she trails off and sighs, no doubt recalling her bet with Yoko, “but I think I'm gonna take a nap. You should go, though...”
Smirking, she backs into the bathroom door and reaches inside. Misha's stifled yelp is cut off by Amaya's apologetic, “Sorry,” as she retracts her hand and adds, “can you hand me a towel~!”
Misha's giggles melodically, sending a tinny echo into the room. A moment later a towel appears from behind the door which Amaya grabs and immediately tosses at me. Pointing out the window, she pats my shoulder and suggests, “you always said it helps you think.”
Well, yeah...
“Besides,” she adds, heading for the door, “we're going back tonight and I don't wanna hear you groaning about not going swimming while we were here~!”
Before closing the door, she leans back inside and grins. “You should wear that thing around, too,” she says, pointing at the anklet in my hand, “it seemed to help get your head in the right place.”
“I was going to-” I start to say, but the door is closed and I hear her heavy footfalls thudding down the hall before I can finish.
Misha steps out a moment later, bouncing giddily. Proudly twirling, sending her pink drills spinning wildly around to fall across her shoulders, she puffs up her considerable chest and asks, “Whaddya think~?”
Not thinking clearly enough to really assess the rather revealing black and pink swimsuit she's chosen, I just smile and nod. “Cute,” I say absently.
Letting out another blaring, “Wahaha~!” she heads for the door, tossing a towel over her shoulder and lilting, “See you outside~!” as she goes.
Standing in the middle of the room for a few moments, staring blankly at the door, I decide Amaya's right; I do feel like going for a swim - although that does mean reopening my suitcase. Groaning softly, I unzip the case and slip into a green and black one-piece Amaya packed for me. After securing the anklet around my left ankle, I pick up the towel and head out.
Passing through the kitchen, I notice Naoko and Nobuo are working at butchering the meat from the boys' expedition. Nobuo seems to be doing all the cutting while Naoko works a meat grinder. They both nod as I pass by, and I offer a thankful smile; they've trapped themselves in the kitchen for the foreseeable future.
Heading through the door, I wonder if Naoko is really happy to spend the day with her brother. She invited him along because he's lonely, not just to cook, but I also think she's worried about him. They do seem to be enjoying themselves, though; at least as much as two people can while trapped in a dark kitchen with a beautiful beach waiting outside the window.
Finding Amaya lounging in one of the chairs on the patio, I lay the towel in the chair beside her and warn, “Don't let anyone steal my seat.”
“Watch out for hands under the water~,” she jokes, peering at me with one eye closed.
“He knows better,” I retort.
“I didn't necessarily mean Hisao,” she replies.
Somehow, I hadn't thought of that.
“I'll keep my guard up,” I say, turning to leave.
“If Tadao tries anything, don't bother telling me,” she calls, “he might not be able to stop himself.”
What...?
When I turn to shoot her a questioning glare, she rolls over, giggling lightly. Deciding she had to have been joking, I start slowly marching toward the waves where most everyone is waiting.
Passing Yoko as she sits a few feet from shore, staring blankly at the waves, I turn a concerned look on her and ask, “Not going swimming?”
Giggling nervously, she looks up at me, squinting at the sun over my shoulder, and answers, “No, just getting some sun.”
It's a reasonable explanation, but her agitated expression suggests she's hiding something. “Okay, well,” I add with an inviting smile, “if you change your mind-”
“Maybe later,” she replies before I can finish, “I'm having fun, really, no need to worry.”
Watching her eyes dart between me and the water for a few seconds, I start feeling uncomfortable, so I just nod and turn away. If she wanted to talk about it, whatever it is, I think she would. Right now, she doesn't seem to be in the mood to talk, so I continue along toward the water.
Is she afraid of the water...?
Hisao waves at me as I approach, and Tadao waves me toward them, but I'm not out here just so splash around in the shallows. The pool at Yamaku is warmer, and the chlorine isn't gritty like the salty ocean water, but none of that matters. Having not gone for a swim since Friday morning, I immediately feel better slipping under the waves.
The undulating surface is somewhat annoying, so I dive down and manage to open my eyes. The sandy shelf extends out some distance from the beach, and there isn't much of a riptide, so I don't feel worried about getting swept away.
After putting some between me and the shore, I turn and head up to the surface. Coming up stealthily, just enough to see over the water line, I peer toward the beach at the bewildered group I left standing in the shallows. Apparently none of my friends paid close attention when I dove away, so none of them have any idea I'm spying on them.
Misha is wading in hip-deep water, jumping at shadows under her feet -perhaps expecting me to jump up and surprise her- while Shizune looks on wearing a bemused expression. Apparently Kenta is keeping himself entertained, or perhaps distracted, by a handful of shells he's examining as he sits a few feet from shore in just enough water to cover his legs. Hisao is squatting so his head and neck just peek out above the water and facing the beach, so I can't tell what face he's making. Nearby, Tadao is sticking his head under the water, though I can't quite tell whether he's looking for me or just using it as an excuse to examine Misha's behind.
I'll have to use that against him later.
Smiling at their obliviousness, I lean back and float to the surface, using gentle kicks to propel myself backwards. Whenever we visited Uncle Aki, there were always adults around -especially Mom- telling me not to swim out this far, so I've never had a chance to relax like this. Closing my eyes to block out the sun, I find the motion up and down with each peak and valley is surprisingly relaxing; the water acting like massaging hands, holding me aloft.
My relaxation is short-lived as Misha's booming lilt calls faintly from shore, “There she is~!”
In response, I loft a hand in the air and wave. Their chatter is too distant and my ear is too water-logged to understand what they're saying, but their voices range from concern to relief. One of them, however, is eerily silent. Lifting my head to look at the group as another wave rolls under me, I see Hisao standing there with his arms crossed; clearly not impressed.
He's used to my watery antics, I guess.
Thinking I'll need to come up with some new tricks at some point -just to keep him interested- I decide I've had enough bobbing on the surface. As the next wave crests and I start dipping into the valley, I take a deep breath, roll my legs down and hold my arms up, turning myself into a spear. Grinning widely as I go -though I'm not sure they can see it- I slip under the water and fold forward to start descending; intending to have a look around.
When I was really little -before the accident- I used to want to be a marine biologist or something like that; I didn't really have a name for it, I just liked sea creatures. Dad liked the idea, but I grew out of it eventually. Still, I'm fascinated by the world hidden beneath the ocean surface. Unfortunately, diving really isn't my specialty -I'm not entirely sure how to handle the depth- so I only go down a few feet; just far enough to have a peek.
The sandy sea floor, about thirty feet beneath me, is littered with coral bands wrapped around rocky outcroppings. Other strange creatures litter the ocean floor; starfish, urchins, and some I can't really identify. Kelp stalks wave ominously over those, and I notice a school of silver fish darting between their outstretched leaves. Watching them flash sunlight almost in unison as they change direction makes me wish I wasn't so boat-shy; I think I'd enjoy going out diving like this.
While it's fun watching the ocean floor for a while, I did come out here to swim, not go sight-seeing. Heading up, I decide to trace the shoreline rather than swim out further. When I break the surface this time, I'm already kicking and paddling, ignoring the onlookers – if there are any. The rolling waves force me to concentrate a lot more on my breathing than I'm used to, but that just makes clearing my head easier.
Kind of...
As I'm pushing along, only one thought keeps coming back to my mind; Hisao. Swimming with him has become so routine that not having him paddling beside me feels strange. The fast pace I used to set has calmed to a less relentless speed, even without him there to keep me from spiriting ahead.
After his heart flutter yesterday, everyone found out or confirmed his condition. With that in mind, he apparently doesn't feel apprehensive about it quite so much, and even shed his t-shirt, revealing the scar. Still, I know he's gotten a lot stronger since we first started swimming together, but I'm not sure he could handle being out here for long. He doesn't quite know his limits yet, and I'm not sure I could carry him back to shore if something terrible happened.
Like Tadao walking on eggshells around Amaya's epilepsy, I'm not really sure how to carry myself around Hisao's arrhythmia. Most of the time, he seems perfectly fine, but one wrong knock to the chest could put him in the hospital – or worse. Maybe his condition isn't all that different from my disease; except that mine is much more specific about the time limit.
Dammit... So much for swimming to clear my head.
No matter what I do, I keep ending up thinking about death; it's starting to grate on my nerves. Angling back toward shore, I try to focus on swimming instead of thinking. Frustrated that I can't even clear my head with a good swim anymore, I skip talking with anyone and instead walk straight toward the patio. With any luck, they'll just assume I wanted to get to my towel.
Amaya is asleep when I arrive and sink into the lounging chair beside her, shaking my head all the while. Leaning back and closing my eyes, I listen to her soft snoring for a while, trying to let my mind go blank. When that doesn't work, I sit up and swing my feet off to the side, leaning forward to look her over. Seeing her asleep in the middle of the afternoon is a little weird, but maybe my spotty sleeping habits have finally started rubbing off on her; not that I think that's a good thing.
Time drifts away slowly as the afternoon turns toward dusk and Nobuo starts bringing the kitchen out to the patio with Naoko still assisting. Evidently, according to Kenta at least, the charring of meat requires an open-air fire, which Nobuo uses as an excuse to bring their whole operation outside. The ground meat apparently went into handmade sausages while the other cuts swim in the marinade Naoko and Misha prepared.
I wish I knew more about what they're doing.
For my part, I keep out of their way. Nobuo offers to give me some hands-on lessons, but I refuse; if my culinary teacher of a mother can't get through, I really doubt he can. Besides, when it comes to food, I'm actually content with keeping things simple; I can do wonders with a microwave.
The boys head inside soon after Nobuo finishes setting up, claiming to be holding a secret meeting; probably involving the fireworks. Misha and Shizune set themselves up down near the unlit fire pit with a big blue umbrella, joining Yoko in her sunbathing. Meanwhile, I lay back and enjoy some peace and quiet – relative quiet. Amaya's snoring starts getting louder, reminding me of another reason why we rarely share a room.
Focusing on the sound of rolling waves to drown out Amaya's nasal cacophony, I close my eyes and try to shut out the world. Getting a little time to myself, at least partially, I let the afternoon haze drift by and find myself on the verge of sleep.
Before I can sink into slumber, a sudden jostling of my chair rouses me and I sit up, groaning, “Go back to sleep, Amaya!”
Opening my eyes, I blink a few times and grin sheepishly at the blurry green mess of hair and grinning teeth a few inches away. “Oh, hey Naoko,” I say, forgetting for a moment that she can't hear me.
Apparently not needing a translation, she waves and signs, [Mind if I sit for a minute?]
[By all means,] I reply, leaning back and reaching down to try and find my glasses.
Catching them as they've apparently tried skittering away under my chair, I wipe them off with my towel and set them on my nose, only then noticing the despondent look on Naoko's face. She looks positively exhausted, or at least overheated, and maybe a little sad.
It's unusual to see, but she really does look tired. Sitting there with her hands in her lap, she rolls her head around, apparently trying to work out a kink in her neck. Her typically happy smile is hanging a little lower than normal and her eyes are held tightly shut.
When she stops, I give her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, waiting for her to open her eyes before asking, [You okay? You look a little tired.]
Shrugging, she grins and replies, [I'll be fine, thanks.] After tossing her head side to side to stretch her neck, she adds, [We were out late and I was rewarded with a headache.]
[I see,] I reply, nodding in a sagely manner. [Maybe you should take a nice hot shower,] I suggest, pointing toward the bungalow, [it helped with my headache earlier.]
For a long moment, she turns her gaze up toward the house, apparently considering my idea. Shrugging as she turns back, I'm disappointed to see her shaking her head. [After Nobuo is done, maybe,] she signs, [everyone else is either asleep, busy being boys, sunbathing, or a fire hazard.]
[It was one time!] I protest, smiling despite the bad memory. Accidentally setting fire to the wall of cabinets behind the stove in the common room got me banned for two months, which is why Amaya usually does my cooking now. [You could wake Amaya,] I suggest, [I'm sure she wouldn't mind.]
Glancing over her shoulder at Nobuo, she inhales deeply and exhales a resigned sigh. Turning back, she shakes her head as she signs close to her chest, [I'm still worried about him.] Her uncharacteristically concerned expression makes me frown. [They'd been together since his first year at university,] she explains, [he's like a lost puppy without her.]
[He'll be fine,] I reply, trying to reassure her.
Really, I don't know Nobuo well enough to believe my own words. Despite how well they seem to get along, her brother only ever came up once, and that was back when Naoko was tutoring me in sign language; over two years ago. That seems odd, though. Usually she's pretty open talking about family, and I've met her parents more than once. Looking at her now, I think there's a bit of guilt in her expression; maybe their relationship wasn't always so friendly.
[Probably,] she admits, [at least he keeps saying that, but I know it's tearing him up inside.]
Her earnest concern is heartwarming, but I don't know what to say. There's more to it than I've been told, and this is not the time or place to ask. Besides, Midori hasn't started dating yet -to my knowledge- so I haven't had much reason to think about the possibility of advising her in heartbreak. Having so little experience with romance myself, I don't think I'm much of a source for advice anyway.
Naoko sees the conflict in my expression and holds up a hand before I can try replying. [Don't worry about it,] she signs, [you have enough to worry about already.]
Does everyone see through me like that...?
[I'm just venting, I guess,] she adds, rubbing her forehead for a second. Grinning broadly, she nods and explains, [Just talking about it helped the headache~!]
Wishing I could do more than listen, I shrug and reply, [Glad I could help.]
Standing, she reaches up into a full stretch before letting her hands drop lazily to her sides. After a second she reaches up and pulls the barrette out of her hair, letting the straight locks fall across her face; evidently the braid Yoko wove yesterday didn't agree with her. Setting the barrette aside, she reaches into a pants pocket and produces an elastic, then uses it to tie her hair in a ponytail.
When she's finished, she catches me staring and smirks. [You should pull the hair out of your face like at Tanabata,] she suggests, offering me the barrette, [it might make kissing The Swooner a little easier~!]
Taking it from her hand, I shrug and set it down on the little table next to my chair. Turning back, I reply, [I think Hisao likes choking on my hair, though.]
[So is that why you like him~?] she asks with a lewd smirk.
Oh, but that's just dirty!
Setting a wide-eyed stare on her, I'm rendered speechless; or motionless, as it were. Instead of waiting for me to respond, she flashes a toothy grin and offers a shrug, quickly walking back over to continue helping Nobuo. Lately it seems all my friends have dirty minds, and now even sweet, innocent Naoko is cracking wise with perverse themes – maybe I just seek that out in people, or, worse, bring that out in people...
That's a frightening thought.
A loud pop overhead snaps me out of the unsettling thoughts and I shoot my gaze upward, catching the sparkling puff of smoke as it starts drifting away; a bottle rocket, apparently. Hearing stifled laughter, I turn toward the house and look up at the deck just in time to see a dark-haired figure darting away. Evidently Tadao is doing some testing, or mischief – or both.
Hearing a groan from the chair beside me, I turn my surprised gaze to see Amaya's eyes cracking open. One of them pops open completely while the other stays closed, but her one-eyed stare doesn't take long to aim upward.
“Is that idiot doing what I think he's doing~!?” she half says and half groans.
Sitting up, she rubs her closed eye and turns a cold look on me for a second before swinging her feet out and standing quickly. “If you'll excuse me,” she says curtly, “I have to go kill my boyfriend.”
“Ask him how he likes his meat cooked,” Nobuo says as she starts rushing up the wooden steps.
“Oh, don't worry,” she says, leaning over the railing to glower at the cook, “he'll be eating through a straw when I'm done~!”
I can't actually tell if she's serious.
He turns and signs something to Naoko, who cracks a smirk and shrugs in response. Meanwhile, I sit back down and get comfortable watching Amaya storm up the stairs. If I can avoid it, I try not to be the voice of reason behind her when she goes on a tirade.
“You coming, Aiko~?” she calls from atop the steps.
So much for that plan...
“I need someone to help get rid of the body~!” she adds, waving a hand to beckon me along. Turning to look in through the sliding door, she mutters, “or bodies.”
I should have brought a book with me.
“Of course, how silly of me,” I call back, slowly standing and heading for the stairs, “what kind of friend would I be if I didn't help you commit homicide?”
“Right!” she replies, still fuming.
Rolling my eyes despite nobody looking, I trudge up the steps, shaking my head the whole way.
There goes my afternoon nap.
Once inside, Amaya flies into a series of insults while Tadao and Kenta sit and snicker on the couch. Hisao is nowhere to be seen, so I'm not sure how involved he was with the surprise attack, but she's concentrating on the two culprits we found. Despite her infuriated tone, neither of them take her seriously. That doesn't surprise me since she usually sounds severe even when she's joking, but she hasn't cracked a smile since this started and that has me keeping quiet.
Finally throwing her arms up in frustration, she aims a threatening stare at both of them and barks, “Do you have any idea what that sudden pop could have caused!?” Looking like she's on the verge of tears, she drops her hands limply to her sides and leans back as a frustrated sigh croaks out of her strained throat.
The snickering stops. Kenta, and especially Tadao, stare at her wide-eyed and slack-jawed. That sudden noise, the little shock-wave, or the burst of light could all have caused a seizure, and now everyone in the room -even me, for not realizing it sooner- feels guilty. Sometimes it's easy to forget about things like that, and I know Amaya hates bringing it up, but both of them should know better.
From behind me I hear footsteps and turn to see Hisao poking his head around the corner wearing a bewildered look. Seeing me he smiles, but the uncomfortable silence stops him from saying anything. Instead, he stands at the end of the hall and shrugs, furrowing his brow with a silent question. In response I simply shake my head quickly and pat the air to placate him temporarily.
Knowing now that she probably asked me along to lend support -in her own way, anyway- I don't know what to say, so I just stand and wait. Tadao is similarly stunned into silence, and Kenta looks like a caged animal; neither of them seems to have any idea how to respond.
After yelling, Amaya has gone quiet too, but her angry exterior is showing signs of softening. With her facing away, I can't read her expression, but she's taking some deep breaths to try settling herself – either that or she's preparing to breathe fire. Breathing fire actually seems more likely at this point. Finally she folds her arms and leans forward, shaking her head and letting out an exasperated sigh.
”Sometimes you really are a dumbass!” she scolds.
Flopping down on the couch between the boys, she concentrates her steely gaze on Tadao even as a tired smirk turns up the corners of her mouth. Wincing, Tadao stutters, trying to respond, but ends up just mumbling incoherently. Kenta glances around uncomfortably for a few seconds before bolting off the couch and backing away, chuckling nervously.
“But you're my dumbass,” she adds, groaning a sigh. Leaning against his shoulder, she pokes his ribs with her index finger and grunts, “Don't scare me like that, Dumbass!”
And now it's a term of endearment...
Turning toward Kenta, she points that same finger at him and yells, “And don't listen to this other dumbass, either!”
Tadao nods and bows his head, finally managing to say, “Sorry,” under a resigned sigh.
She stares at him angrily for a few seconds before a bright grin spreads across her face and she plants a kiss on his cheek. Backing away, she chirps, “I still love ya~!”
Nodding slowly, Tadao replies, “I know.”
“What was that?” she rebuts, punching his arm for good measure.
“Love you too,” he mumbles, wincing at his wounded shoulder.
Kenta finally takes an opportunity to speak, puffing up his chest as he comments, “Solo denied.”
“You,” she barks, turning her stone-faced gaze at Kenta, “stop giving my boyfriend dumbass ideas!”
Making a sound like a deflating balloon, Kenta groans, “Yeah, sorry. Wasn't thinking.”
“We're used to that,” I say sardonically, “just keep your stupid ideas to yourself.”
“What she said,” Amaya adds, turning her gaze toward the quiet figure over my shoulder, “did you have a part in this?”
“No,” Hisao answers, taking a step forward, “but you can blame me for leaving these two alone with the bag.”
Following his pointing finger, Amaya jumps off the couch and walks over to the far end, snatching the brown paper bag off the floor before either of them can protest. Rifling through the contents, she raises an eyebrow for a few seconds before closing the end and tucking it under her arm.
“I'll be holding onto these,” she states, “you two idle-handed dumbasses can go help Nobuo.”
Despite her diminutive stature, Amaya can command a room when she makes use of her angry voice. It's something she doesn't do terribly often, but is always entertaining. Leading Tadao and Kenta outside, using the bag as bait, she has Nobuo put them to work and insists that Naoko go inside to take a break. When that's taken care of, she heads back inside and drags me away, claiming to need help packing.
That turns out just to be a ruse. Instead, she hops up on the top bunk and lays down facing away while I'm left sitting on the bed. Although she doesn't look like it, and would never admit it, I know she's constantly worried about having a seizure. Growing up an only child, her parents naturally doted on her, but the condition made them a little over-protective; going so far as to home-school her. Still, instead of it weighing on her all the time, she remains bright and upbeat; if a little sardonic.
That's part of the reason I opened up to her about my own disease. The relative isolation of her youth isn't something I can relate to, but we both learned about mortality, particularly our own, at a young age. While I didn't learn about my disease until after Dad died, it still came long before most people really realize they could die someday. Amaya's parents, according to her, never minced words when it came to describing the potential dangers of her condition; she sometimes calls her dad The Grim Reaper.
Affectionately, so she says.
The usual facade of indifference she holds up to hide how scared she is has just been knocked away, and she's too embarrassed to show this part to anyone yet – I can't say I blame her. If not for Tadao being part of the reason, I'm sure she would have dragged him along instead, but I was conveniently placed between her and her destination. While she's moping, I figure there ought to be some noise coming from the room –to sound like we're packing– so I decide to change for the trip home and work on resealing my suitcase.
After getting all that finished, I find myself sitting in the middle of the bed cross-legged, staring out the window. Watching the waves and listening to the wind, I'm a little too distracted to notice when Amaya rolls over.
“You think it'll ever be easy?” She asks suddenly, causing me to jump a little and snap a surprised look on her. The question itself takes a second to hit me, and I'm left shaking my head and shrugging. It's not an encouraging gesture, and Amaya points that out with a resigned sigh. While I'd like to hope it will someday be easy to work our respective conditions into conversation without having it remind us of all the baggage they bring, I don't think it ever will.
That almost makes me envy people with more noticeable disabilities like Shizune or even Kenta. People don't end up asking them about being deaf or having cerebral palsy because the symptoms are easy to notice, but ailments like epilepsy or arrhythmia, or partial deafness -or Huntington's- are a lot less obvious. Still, she needs some optimism right about now, and so do I, honestly.
“Maybe,” I say, trying to reason as I'm talking, “eventually everyone around us will understand, so they won't have to ask, or end up doing something stupid...” Trailing off, I'm not sure what I'm saying is helping.
“Maybe,” Amaya echoes, sounding less than convinced. Neither one of us really having an answer, we both fall silent.
Sitting in silence, it occurs to me that, being students at Yamaku, we're both around people who generally understand our conditions. The staff, the students, and even the locals in town at least tolerate the fact that anyone in a Yamaku uniform is probably disabled in some way - whether it's obvious or not. Still, even with that accepting attitude, we both find it hard to talk about our conditions; I can't even bring myself to mention one of them. That makes me worry about life after school; when people will be even less understanding, or, worse, more inquisitive.
“We should probably stop thinking about this,” Amaya suggests, throwing her legs over the edge of the bunk and forcing a grim smile, “we'll just give ourselves wrinkles from making that face.”
Realizing I've had my face frozen in a perplexed frown for the past few minutes, I pull off my glasses and rub my eyes, trying to flatten the wrinkles. “It's your fault!” I accuse.
“Blame Tadao – or Kenta,” she retorts, throwing her hands up in frustration, “but at least Hisao wasn't involved.”
“He did leave them alone, though,” I say, smirking.
“Yeah, well; he doesn't know them that well yet,” she replies, “and besides, he was terrified and he didn't even do anything.”
“Was he?” I ask, “I wasn't watching.”
“Until you started talking,” she adds with a smirk, “he looked like he might panic and run for the hills~!”
“I doubt that,” I retort.
Amaya just giggles in response, which is actually good to hear despite the fact that she's mocking me. Once she collects herself enough to speak, she explains, “You should have a little faith.”
Well that was corny...
“You're starting to talk like Tadao, y'know,” I remark, “and I'm not sure if that's good or not.”
“I know, I can't help it!” she complains, “You know how much he reads, right?”
Nodding, I shrug and ask, “What's that got to do with it?”
“Everything!” she retorts, smiling despite her apparent frustration, “Whenever we're not talking, he's reading; and sometimes he reads aloud... to me,” she blushes a little and starts to look like she doesn't want to continue, “when I'm half-asleep...”
Ah, that's why...
“And it sinks in,” she adds.
Two years ago, I would have thought she were looking for my approval, or an affirmation, or something like that. However, now I realize she's just venting. The smile creeping onto her red-faced expression tells me she doesn't really mind Tadao reading to her, or the apparent effects it has. Having endured some lengthy one-sided conversations with Hisao, and managing to find them endearing despite the boring subject matter, I'm hardly surprised.
Glancing toward the door, I roll my eyes and joke, “We both fell for nerds, I guess.”
“At least yours doesn't bore the crap out of you,” she claims.
If she only knew...
“Is that why you're smiling?” I chide, getting up to make my way out of the room.
“Quiet, you~!” she balks, starting to follow, “and don't call Tadao a nerd!”
“I call them how I see 'em,” I retort, scoffing as I glance back over my shoulder. Her silence speaks volumes as her heavy footsteps catch up and she walks alongside me.
As I smirk and raise an eyebrow at her, I can't help feeling a little detached from the whole situation. Twice today we've found ourselves talking about things we almost never discuss, and I'm starting to remember why – it's damn depressing. Tadao had the right idea firing off that bottle rocket, I think, even if it was a small disaster; this is a vacation and it's supposed to be fun.
At least that was the plan.
One of the first things Hisao said about it was related to fun, I'm sure. Every time Amaya mentioned it, her speech was peppered with enthusiastic adjectives and exaggerated laughter – more than normal. It's kind of sad I have to keep reminding myself of that. All my friends are here, Hisao is here, there's a big bag of fireworks around here somewhere, and I keep thinking about death.
No more; not this weekend.
Imagining the coming light-show, I put a skip in my step as we exit through the sliding door and start giggling when Amaya turns a curious glance at me. Not needing an explanation, apparently, she joins in as we descend the stairs and head toward the patio. Maybe we only have a few hours left here, but I'm determined to smile for the rest of the day, and I think Amaya agrees.
This is a no frown zone.
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Despite saying I didn't want to split their final day three ways, I just couldn't deliver on that promise. The previous days were written that way because there's a lot going on, and this last day is no different. Writing an ensemble story like this from a first-person perspective and having all of my major players all in one place just creates a lot of potential for interaction and I like doing character drama - so sue me.
In trying to write the whole rest of the day as one chapter, I realized there was a rift in the way it was written; specifically the first half ended up being all about Aiko and Amaya, while the latter half focuses elsewhere. They were really two totally different threads and didn't work together very well, so I did some adjusting and found myself with a complete chapter.
Babbling aside, I wanted to focus a bit on Aiko's worries, which have been peppered into the narrative but never really addressed, and I wanted to have her open up about it with Amaya. How that happened changed several times, but I finally settled on sticking that right on the beginning of the chapter and having it drive her thoughts throughout - at least that was the plan.
A special note to DanjaDoom if he's reading this: I finally found a place to use the 'B' word.
