This is the actual conclusion to Act 2.
Act 3 is forthcoming. I'll need some time for it, though. I'm planning on alternate endings and forks in the story.
As always, feedback and comments are greatly appreciated.
Scene 8: The Three Ghosts
It's been almost a month since Emi broke down in my arms on the Yamaku track, and I've still got a million questions and no answers. It doesn't help that exams are approaching and I'm spending so much of my time walled up in the student council room with Shiina and Shizune. These silent lurches back to my bed are the only chance I get to really reflect on the strange events of last month. Try as I might, the harder I think about it, the more lost I become.
I can’t blame Emi for telling me what she told me about Rika. And I have no reason to disbelieve her. It’s pretty plain to see that Emi isn’t the meddlesome type. And even if she were, I don’t think she’s attracted to me enough to make her jealous of Rika. I keep getting vague hints that she's got a crush on the track captain. And she has never been anything but completely honest with me. She's probably the person I trust most here at Yamaku.
Nurse’s silence I can understand. The medical history of the students of Yamaku is a confidential matter. And I’m sure this boy who came before me, whose name I was never told, is not the only tale of sadness at Yamaku. What would I expect Nurse to say to me? “Exercise well, eat well, because you don’t want to end up like Kid X?” I know Nurse has too much respect for the dead to do something like that.
Confronting him is out of the question. I can’t betray Emi’s confidence in me.
When it comes to the other students at the school, even if there’s no pact of silence, it’s no mystery they wouldn’t say anything. The students here are anything but cruel, and sharing this secret would be cruel to me, to the deceased, and even to Rika. Moreover, Rika’s told me on more than one occasion that it’s taboo to talk about death at Yamaku.
And that leaves Rika. Strangely enough, Rika is the only one whose silence I can’t fully understand. In the days since Emi’s breakdown, Rika and I have grown closer and closer. We’ve started taking lunch together in the courtyard, skipping the odd afternoon class to go for a walk. We've even snuck into the school after hours a few more times so we could spend some time alone with the moon, the stars, and our fear of heights. I’ve begun to share with her all the pastimes she tells me she used to simply enjoy alone. And yet, of all the stories of her past that she’s spontaneously poured out to me in moments of closeness, this one issue has never emerged.
Why wouldn't she tell me about this? Rika is not bound by the same politeness as the other people at Yamaku. Quite the opposite. Nor is she withholding the information out of concern for my well-being. After all, she’s taken every chance she’s had to give me a heart attack since I’ve arrived. Every chance but this one.
All I can think is that either she's afraid I will judge her, or she’s still not done coping with her loss. I can’t imagine what it’s like losing a loved one at such a young age. Am I her placeholder? Her rebound from beyond the grave? Could this be the reason for all the rushed intimacy?
As I lurch through the dorm halls, hungry for sleep, I go over the thought in my head again and again. What if I did confront her? She might get defensive and snap at me. She might break down crying. She might deny it. And what would I gain? Validation? The peace of mind of knowing that I wasn’t going to take this laying down? Any way I look at it, there’s no reason to say anything. So all I can do is wait for her.
When I open my door, I notice an envelope on the floor. Someone must have slipped it under my door while I was out. One nice thing about Yamaku is that people around here tend to look out for each other. I’m sure someone noticed I hadn’t checked my mail in a while and took it upon themselves to give me special delivery.
I unfold the letter and begin reading, my eyes flying across the pages without fully comprehending their contents. It’s a long letter. It’s beautifully written. The paper is nice. Do I smell her perfume?
Her presence overwhelms me.
Iwanako.
I scan the pages again, but none of the words make their way into my head. My heart twitches.
Then, a newer but equally familiar sensation rouses me from my daze. The sound of my phone. I check my new message.
“Come to the woods.”
I know better than to respond to any of Rika’s vague text messages anymore. The answer’s never any different. I stuff the letter in my pocket and throw on my sweater-vest, which ought to keep me plenty warm on a mild summer night such as this one.
Scene 9: Pieces of Paper
As usual, Rika’s directions are far from precise. She isn’t keen on the traditional rendezvous. What she meant by “the woods” is anyone’s guess, after all. What she really wants is just a general idea of where I can be found so she can sneak up on me.
I walk halfway up the path leading into the woods near Yamaku, winding through zelkova and maple trees, trying to be alert enough to my surroundings. A breeze rustles through the branches. It makes me shiver, even though I’m not cold. I’ve never been out here at midnight. I can see why Rika likes it so much. It seems to suit her.
I wander for a good 20 minutes before her voice gets the jump on me. Not what I was expecting to hear.
“Who’s Iwanako?”
I look up at the source of the sound to see Rika is reclining in the divergence of two wide maple branches, wearing her silver pullover and jeans. She waves the letter at me and I instinctively reach for my pocket to find that it’s now empty. The letter must have fallen out. Either that, or she pilfered it from me. It wouldn't be unlike her.
She hops down from where she’s sitting, slapping the note against my chest. I frown at her smug gesture, still a bit miffed at the invasion of privacy. For the first time since our date at the cinema, I smell tobacco smoke on her clothes.
“Did you read the whole thing?” I ask.
“I didn’t have time. I just looked at the name at the end. Is she a friend of yours?”
She presses the point with her eyebrows raised in what’s either real or mock sternness. I don’t see any jealousy, but then again, maybe I wouldn’t know it if I did see it.
“I guess you could say that,” I reply.
She takes my hand and starts to walk down the path with me. We’ve come out here plenty of times before, during the day, but never this late at night. I’m not sure why she chose this evening to call me. Maybe she’s got insomnia again. Maybe it was a lucky guess that I’d still be awake, or maybe not even sleep itself can guard me from her whims.
Somehow the woods feel even quieter than normal. The trees look so different at night. The colours are so faded in this low light that they’re almost grey. The leaves look like they’re made from origami paper, and even in stillness they seem to shift as I pass by them. Rika’s white skin is the brightest thing in the woods, positively beaming with radiance and warmth. Her shiny silver braid sways across her chest as she walks. I’m reminded of the way she looked at the festival when we watched the fireworks, with the different colours illuminating her as if she were made of mirrors. And how in the cinema, I could almost see the film reflected in her skin…
“What did she say in her letter?” Rika asks.
“I don’t remember. I didn’t really get to read it.”
We take a few more steps in silence before I talk again.
“Iwanako was my tight-rope walker.”
Rika gives me a strange look. “I thought I was the only acrobat in your life.”
I chuckle and shake my head at her. “No, I mean Iwanako was the one who gave me my first heart attack. It’s kind of stupid, now that I think about it. We weren’t dating exactly, we were just in the same class. One day she slipped me a note in class asking me to meet her after school. I was shocked. We'd never really talked before in class, but I always sort of thought she was cute. I went to see her, and... she sort of asked me on a date.”
Rika slows her step slightly before picking up. I wait for her.
“And what did you say to her?”
“I didn’t get that far before, well…”
I trail off and she squeezes my hand wordlessly, as though to signal her understanding. This is the first time I’ve ever told the story of my heart attack to someone who didn’t already know about what happened. Even my parents didn’t get the full story. Somehow, it’s so much different with Rika. I’m starting to understand why she has such an easy time telling me so much about herself. I continue.
“She came to visit me in the hospital, but it was weird. For one thing, we weren't really friends before that, so the fact that she'd bother to visit me in the hospital at all felt... well, it just felt really awkward. Most of my memories of her are from the hospital visits. Since we didn't have a lot to talk about, she just gave me updates on how things were going at school, what everyone was up to, how all my friends were doing. That kind of thing. But she never asked me that question again, and I never brought it up. I don’t think she even wanted to come to the hospital, really. I think she was just visiting me out of…”
Rika cuts me off. “Guilt.”
Her voice cracks a bit and I look at her with alarm. Her face has its usual neutral expression, but her eyes look heavy. She watches her feet as we keep walking. After clearing her throat, Rika begins speaking in a dreamy, flat voice.
“People told her it wasn't her fault, but she couldn't believe them. She was there. She knew if it wasn't for her, that wouldn't have happened. Maybe later, maybe years later... just not then. But she couldn't figure out what she did wrong. All she wanted was to be an ordinary girl with a normal boyfriend. Do you remember what it was like, the first time you looked at her that way? The first time she looked at you that way…”
Her voice trembles a little despite her best efforts. Her hand is shaking. I’m speechless. I turn to her but she’s averting her gaze from me, hiding herself from me. This meekness is entirely unbecoming of her, and it makes me uneasy. After a pause she speaks again in an eerie hush.
“Are you going to answer her letter?”
I ponder for a moment as we walk.
“Honestly, I don’t think I will answer it. Getting her letter, seeing her name on it, just reminded me how much I’ve moved on after all that’s happened to me. And even though she visited me for a while in the hospital, after a while, well… she just left me alone.”
I wait for Rika’s answer, but she says nothing. The breeze rustles the branches of the trees as we emerge into a meadow clearing. With each step, I hear the letter from Iwanako crumpling more in my pocket. Rika and I have never walked out this far before. It’s quieter here. Her fingers dig into my hand while we walk. I don’t know what to make of it. She speaks softly.
“Are you even going to read it?”
“I don’t think I have to.”
I listen to the silence more. Rika’s breathing is increasing again, but there’s something different about it. I try to look her in the eyes again, but they’re closed. Something sparkles on her cheek. Is she crying?
“Rika? Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
My heart starts to thud against my chest. I speak calmly.
“Rika, what’s wrong?”
Before I finish my sentence she falls to her knees, her fingers digging into my hand. I kneel in front of her, putting my other hand on her shoulder.
“Rika! Tell me what’s wrong!”
She clutches my hand in silence. I press two fingers against her neck to feel for her pulse, but there’s nothing.
My heart churns with intensity. I can hear it thumping in my ears.
I try to calm myself down and Nurse’s words echo in my memory.
(Remove her shirt.)
I tug her sweater over her head. She’s not wearing anything but a bra underneath. Her body feels stiff and empty, like a shell.
(Lay her down on her back.)
I lay her half-naked body in the cold meadow grass. Her face is blank. In the meadow clearing, the starlight shimmers all over her. I gaze at her narrow, athletic physique, her gorgeous fair skin. I force my head to clear.
(Stop staring at her. Take deep breaths. Calm down.)
I close my eyes and my eyelashes moisten with tears.
(Press her chest with your hands. Two motions per second.)
I place my hands on her chest and feel for the correct position. I feel a long ridge between her breasts. I try not to think about what it is.
(One. Two.)
My hands pump at a steady rate with the practiced amount of pressure. My own heart rate mimics the rhythm of my movements. I try to ignore it.
(Get ahold of yourself. Breathe.)
I collect myself and continue pressing her chest.
(One. Two.)
Then I hear a loud gasp. Our eyes spring open simultaneously and bind one another. Rika’s crimson eyes are glowing with sheer terror, her mouth gasping for air. She springs forward and embraces me. I clutch her tightly to my chest and she presses her wet cheek against my own, shuddering and stifling her sobs.
“Rika, please,” I implore her. “We need to get you to a hospital.”
Her fingers dig into my back. I feel her hot breath on my skin for the first time as she whispers something repeatedly in my ear.
“I’m so sorry.”
End of Act 2
Continue to Act 3...
That might be because her heart stopped (which probably shouldn't have happened, given that we're talking about arrhythmia here), orrrrrrr . . . he just didn't feel it. This is exactly why standard First Aid/CPR classes no longer instruct students to check for a pulse before starting CPR -- it's hard to check it on someone else during stressful conditions (particularly if you're not a trained responder) and if the person's not breathing it doesn't much matter since you'll be doing chest compressions regardless (unless it's a kid, which is slightly different, but that's not applicable here).