Shining Bright, Despite The Plight
“Are you sure we don't need to get you checked out?” I ask, fumbling for my doorknob. It's late, it's... okay, it's not late, but it's dark, and we've had a busy day, and I'm so tired.
“I fell in a stream.” Hisao says flatly. “Unless some of the sharks from the beach followed us there, I don't think it would be life threatening.”
“Maybe they can--” There, got it. Finally. “Maybe they go after the scent of sweatervests.”
He just grunts as I push the door open, taking slow steps on wobbly legs towards my bed. All this talk of streams and falling in them and water in general, but my sheets might as well be singing a siren song, soft. Suzu, soooft. I don't so much as climb into bed as trip over the side and land in a cushy paradise, a haven of blankets and pillows and, and there are no sharks here. I almost pass out then and there, but remember to wriggle a little further to make room for Hisao, I lie there waiting for the second impact. But it doesn't come.
After a few moments of nothing, I force my heavy eyes to open and see him standing there in his sleeping clothes, a plain t-shirt and boxers--those are, those are plain too, no hearts or anything. I should... he should wear boxers with hearts on them. I shall see to it--and he's frowning softly down at me.
I blink at him a few times, Hisao, come... come on, it's, it's the equivalent of late and... don't leave me hanging here. He doesn't budge.
“But why?” I tilt my head, which only pushes it deeper into the pillow beneath it, see what you're missing Hisao? He continues to frown, looking uncomfortable.
“I just think maybe I should sleep in the guest room for once. I feel bad for going behind your parents' backs like this.” He says softly.
But that's... right, it's been, it's been a few days since the conversation that I overheard between him and my mother. Hisao hasn't been treating me differently. It really is a relief, I was... well, I know we already talked about him being there for me and not going out of his way to protect me, we sorted that out. And even though he knows more now, it really doesn't change things, does it? I'm the same person I was before, he just... I guess he just understands me better.
Part of me wants to think that, wants to forget about the things they said and believe that nothing's wrong but I can't. I don't know what's going to happen, and that's always been hard for me, I don't know if things are going to continue being fine or if, if they're just going to get much worse. I'm scared, I feel like now there's a ticking timebomb, just waiting to go off.
But that's why today was so nice, we went out. I was able to forget about that sinking feeling, that nagging doubt. I was able to show my favorite city boy what living in a more rural area is like. Although I'm still not a... what did he call me? A yokel. No.
For a while there, I was able to think that everything was okay, that, that nothing was going to change between us. But here he is now, and he doesn't want to stay in my room? I know he can't really be afraid of what my parents think, because he knows that... he knows that they know that... I mean, he knows it's fine.
But then why... why the story? I stare up at him for a few moments longer, but I can't put the pieces together in my fuzzy, sleepy head.
“Okay.” I mumble, beginning to reach for a blanket to throw over me and only me. But he's faster, he beats me to it. This is kind of awkward, I feel like a kid being tucked in like this, and when we've parted at night in the past it was at his door or mine, not like this. But I don't know what to say, what to do, even asking for a goodnight kiss would seem strange somehow.
“Just for tonight, I promise.” He says, withdrawing. I give him a tired, halfhearted smile.
“I'll be just down the hall.” He walks back to the door before turning and glancing at me curiously. I nod, head to pillow, up and down. Soft.
He flicks the lightswitch off. “Goodnight, Suzu.”
“G'night...”
The door closes, I'm plunged into darkness. Soft, warm darkness, but it could be warmer, I still don't understand why he had to go.
Every day since Miki left, I've held him close when it was time to go to bed, and every night since then has been fine. Well... after, after that day with him and my mother, it was weird. I felt like I was walking on eggshells the whole time, even though that phrase doesn't really make a lot of sense, I just know that things were uneasy. Every time he looked at me when we were alone, every time he opened his mouth to say something I bit my lip, and when nothing happened and we went to bed, I didn't sleep very well that night.
But even if I'm not fighting crime in my dreams again, even if, even if my head has been quiet and dark, I'm not really complaining, and even now I'm not... I'm not trying to be needy. I know that, when we get back to school, I won't be able to have him over every night, I might not even want him over all the time, everyone needs their space sometimes. But that will be okay, because, because at Yamaku, I don't have... I mean, I can...
I should just try not to worry about it, I'm far too tired to try to figure all of this out right now. And he, he said it's just for tonight. We have a few more days before the end of the break, so I should just try to go to sleep.
Before that though, what time is it, it's... a little after 10. That's early, for us. But I'm wiped out, nature hikes and things like that aren't really my thing. And Hisao doesn't really seem to care for them either, I mean, he didn't seem to be having a bad time. I go over all the things that happened today in my head, no, I think he was definitely having fun. It's just that he gets worn out easily. And so do I.
I guess we really do make a pretty good pair, the thought brings a smile to my face. But I wish we were a pair right now, I wish he was here, it's...
It's 11, somehow. The revelation strikes any and all pleasant thoughts from my mind. Right, I should, I should try not to think, or do anything like that. Just focus on lying here in my nice, warm, comfy bed, and just fall asleep. It should be easy, I'm so tired and this whole room was designed for people like me. Sleepy people.
Another hour passes, emptying my head doesn't seem to have any effect. I just end up lying there, staring at the wall opposite my bed. I'm blinking heavily and I don't have the strength to move and I'm so incredibly tired, I want to go to sleep. Before I start to think again, before I start to think too hard. About stupid things, about anything, about... about what's on the other side of that wall. It's just an empty room, it wasn't, it shouldn't be, but it--
No, come on, please. I sit up in the bed, burning with frustration. One night. I can't go one night in this house without having someone here with me? Of course I go up and down during the day, that's, that's actually why Hisao fell in the stream at all, it's because I passed out and he lost his balance trying to catch me. But if I don't have any trouble sleeping when I want to be awake, how is it fair that I can't sleep when I want to the most?
I contemplate switching my reading lamp on and grabbing the nearest book, but it hurts to keep my eyes open, I sink back into the bed. Another hour passes, then another. I don't even feel like I have the strength to glance at the clock at this point, but I lurch out of bed, dragging my weary body towards the door.
I feel completely miserable as I trudge past the door next to mine, heading further down the hall to the room where Hisao is staying. My hair is a mess, my eyes are bleary. I make it to his door, even though I would count myself lucky to pass out here and now, the carpet is so thick. I raise my hand to knock, but doubt strikes me again.
Whatever his reason is, he didn't want to sleep in my room tonight. He didn't want to sleep with me. What if I'm being too needy, what if he wakes up and he's annoyed with me? I really don't... I mean, I don't want to bother you, Hisao, I just...
I wring my hands, fatigue continuing to stab through me. I just want to sleep. I just need to sleep. I guess I need you for that, Hisao, I... I need you for a lot of things. But maybe if I do this, if I can't even take one night without him, maybe he'll... he'll start to think that I'm weak again.
I want to raise my hand and knock on his door, I want to crawl into bed with him because he's warm and comfy and, and he's Hisao. But I think back to everything we've been through together, I remember how bad things almost got before I made it clear that I just wanted to be treated like everyone else.
And everyone needs someone, sometimes. But if I... if I'm constantly leaning on him like this, that will just make everything we went through back then go to waste, I think. I don't know, it's late--well, it really is late now. I don't even know what time it is now, either too late or way too early, but I...
I love my family, I love my mom and my dad and it's nice out here, it really is. I like it here, but as I turn back to begin walking towards my room again, all I can think about is how I really do hate this house, and I just wish I could sleep.
And it's... it's not even the house's fault.
I only get a few steps before I hear the sound of a door opening behind me.
Should I freak out? Should I... okay, I should turn around. And I do. Hisao is standing in the hall now, his hair just as messy as mine and his eyes heavy from sleep. Or lack of it? He's blinking at me, but he... he doesn't look surprised. And he doesn't look annoyed, he... he looks regretful.
I guess I am kind of a mess right now. Say something, this... this wasn't in the plan. I am not good at plans.
“Hey.” I give him a weak, exhausted smile. “Can't sleep?”
Hisao frowns for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.” He says. “What about you?”
Thinking on my feet but with my very heavy head, if that makes any sense, I try to spin some kind of story. “Actually, I was just going to use the... I mean, I was hungry, so I wanted to...”
This... this isn't working. Hisao tilts his head.
“The kitchen is that way, isn't it?” He points and I grimace.
I wasn't going to wake him up. I was, I was going to go back to my room and lie there and be miserable, but it would be better than him looking at me like I'm made of glass again. It would be better than him being scared for me all the time.
And yet, here I am, standing here in the hallway at something-o'clock in the morning, completely exhausted but unable to sleep a wink.
I... give up. “I can't sleep, yeah.” I admit, still frowning. “I'm sorry, I didn't want to bother you, it's just...”
“Don't worry about it.” Hisao gestures to the guest room. “C'mon.”
“Thanks.” I mumble, throwing my legs back into gear as I walk towards the door. I give him a tired smile as I pass and he returns it, if... if, if he's not upset, if he's not annoyed and he knows my parents wouldn't mind, why did he do this in the first place?
With shaking limbs I crawl into the bed, it's not as nice as mine but it's... it's the company that really matters. And this time he joins me, I'm a little hesitant to move closer to him but Hisao does it for me, pulling me close as he settles in beside me.
This is better. He leans his head towards mine and gives me a soft kiss on the lips, this is so much better. I can feel everything beginning to get quiet, I think I'm, I think I'm finally shutting down. I don't know if having a warm body next to mine makes that big a difference or it's just because it's him. Either way. But I know the fact that it's Hisao helps. I wriggle a little bit in his embrace, but it doesn't take long to get comfortable, he's... he's already comfy. By design, I think.
“I'm sorry.” He whispers, just as I've begun to reach the point of no return, it's all going dark now.
“Wha... what?”
“Don't worry about it. Go to sleep.”
I... I want to know but that sounds like a... a good...
The next morning I have to fight off the panic that strikes when I wake up in a bed that's not my own, but the memory of the previous night returns, and the sensation of Hisao's body next to mine is more soothing than any... any thing that is usually really soothing but not as good as this. Questions and, and concerns still bother me, but I couldn't even make it through one night by myself and he wasn't upset, so can I really complain? Could any--well, some people could, I'm sure. But I won't. I can't, not after the first few weeks of the break. Not after the holidays I spent here and the summer last year, before he came.
I settle back in, I let his warmth lull me back to sleep, if only for a little bit longer.
It ends up being longer than I was expecting, but that's all right. We only have a few more days before we return to Yamaku. Hisao will be taking the train back to his house to gather his things, and my parents are going to drive me back, they're... they're going to drive me home. At the moment though, I'm sitting in the bathroom, watching Hisao gulp down his pills. I stopped keeping track somewhere after the tenth one, but seeing him slam them back between sips of water is both impressive, and also kind of disheartening. Ha... disheart--okay no, now is not the time for that.
He'd been a little weirded out, a little uncomfortable, the first time I had asked to watch him take his medicine. And it's not that I find it oddly attractive or anything, although it doesn't gross me out at all. It's just that, well, this is a big part of his life. Not even that, his pills are kind of the reason he still has a life, but really, this is something that he does twice a day, every single day. It's part of who he is, just like his condition, and I guess it just goes back to wanting to understand him a little better. Maybe if I remember to scrutinize his closet when we get back to school I'll be able to figure out why he wears those sweatervests. In fact, he's... he's wearing one right now. The argyle one.
Damn the argyle one.
Finishing up, Hisao opens his mouth to speak, then remembers that he should probably swallow all the water currently filling it before he does. I think we're both grateful for that one. When he's good and ready, he turns to me.
“Hey Suzu.”
My heart begins beating faster in my chest, just like it has, every single time he's turned to ask me something this week. I try not to frown in concentration. The talk he had with my mother. The weird looks he was giving me when he arrived, and the way he acted last night. Is this it? Here, now?
“Hey, Hisao.”
“Are we doing anything today?”
Maybe not?
“...Eating breakfast?”
Hisao smiles. It's actually late afternoon, we've just been making the most of our chance to sleep in.
“That sounds like a decent plan to me.” He sets down his glass of water, turning to inspect himself in the mirror. Is he still worried about looking good in front of my parents? Your sweatervest looks fine Hisao, it's, it's dumb and I feel dumb for somehow liking it as much as I do, but--
“There was... something I wanted to ask you.” Hisao says, a little hesitantly. He glances at me before looking back at the mirror, then gets embarrassed and turns away. See, it looks fine.
But this is totally it.
“Will it ruin breakfast?” I mutter, pretending to pout even though I'm pretty sure I know the answer.
“I dunno.” Hisao replies. “Maybe.”
“Then let's eat first.” I reply, standing up and beginning to halfheartedly shove him towards the door.
“And by let's eat, you mean let's have Hisao cook something so that you can eat it, right?” He asks, but he moves with me.
“Hmph.” He's... he's a better cook than me, and we're long out of ice cream to eat in the mornings. I couldn't really live like that anyway, I can't help but feel like that was some sort of injustice. I think that was a mistake, looking back. Maybe one of many.
Definitely one of many. But I smile, I'm glad that we can still trade jabs like this, even with... even with that now familiar fear settling in my chest, that feeling that I'm sinking. A wave of fatigue suddenly snakes through my body, but even that doesn't seem to slow my beating heart, there's still this lurking fear in my stomach. But I... I guess we'll see, and, and first things first. Like breakfast. Even though it's lunch.
“You're wise to my tricks. I'm afraid I...” Need to pause for a yawn, it's, I'm tired. “...I must eliminate you now.”
He turns to study me closely as we walk through the hallway. “I knew you were turning evil on me.”
“Noo.” I groan, suddenly I have to blink a lot and I keep pushing off the walls to help me along. Hisao stands ready to catch me if I go completely dark, but I don't think I will, I... I think I'm just dragging a bit.
“I dunno.” He shrugs dismissively. “I'll be sure not to turn my back on the food, maybe you're the one who's trying to poison me.”
“No.” I pout. Keep this up and I really will have you eliminated, Hisao. And your little sweatervest too.
Maybe then we won't have to have this talk.
Our conversation dies once he sets himself to the task of making us something to eat. Without blowing anything up or setting it on fire or, or both, at the same time. And even when he's produced a dish that actually looks very edible, now things have gotten quiet... and awkward. We sit and eat in silence, his cooking is good, better than mine anyway and I tell him that, but otherwise...
When he got here about a week ago, he was acting weird. Like there was something bothering him, something he wanted to know. Was it because of the seminar, like he asked my mother?
I take a bite of my food, glancing up at him as I chew. Our eyes meet and I quickly look back down again, this feels bad, this feels strained. This isn't what I want, I... I don't know. Maybe I'll get lucky. Maybe he actually wants to ask about something stupid or, or something embarrassing. Maybe he just promised my mom he'd look out for me, and that was good enough for her.
Yeah, maybe.
We finish eating and deposit the dishes in the sink, and then we just stand there, side by side. I turn to face him, he does the same and no one's saying anything and this is awful.
I look up at him. I glance away at nothing, then look back, now he's studying me again. Finally, I just can't take this anymore.
“What did you want to know?” I sigh. He gives me a strained smile, not the warm one that I wish I could take... how many pills does he have? 17? 18? I could handle that many. Smiles that is, not pills.
I haven't given up on seeing that smile again today. I hope I do, but I don't know.
“Living room?” He tilts his head in the direction of the room that no one actually lives in so I don't know why it's called that.
“Acceptable.” I mumble, we exit the kitchen. In a few moments I'm sprawled out on our delightfully comfy couch and he's resting in one of the arm chairs. That one's a little old, a look of panic crosses his face as he sinks in deeper than he was expecting. But he survives, he recovers, and then he takes a moment to collect himself before speaking up.
“So... hey Suzu.” He rests his hands in his lap, staring at them uneasily. I wriggle into an even comfier position and then continue to watch him, Hisao, just tell me, just ask. Please.
I'm not going back to school like this. If there's a time bomb, I... I want it to go off here and now. I guess.
“Hey, Hisao.” I say softly. He cracks a slight smile, he turns to look at me.
“I wanted to know. I don't think you ever really told me.” He tilts his head, his smile fades. He gets that look again, when he knows he's going to ask me to open up to him, and... and he knows I'm not very good at doing that.
“Why can't you sleep here, at your parents' house?”
I blink a few times, I don't know if I'm surprised or not, I'm not sure what I was expecting. Has, has he...
“I...” I sit up, leaning back against the couch, now I'm the one staring at my hands. I would want to put this in a way that would keep him from worrying about me, but I... I guess we're kind of past that point.
I think he has.
I think he knows, by now.
I'm sure Hisao can see how uncomfortable I am already, but he sits there, patiently waiting for my response. He's probably been waiting a while to hear this, it's... it's like a single thread, I guess, just, just pull and look, there it all is. There it all is.
Last night. Did he let me sleep alone, or try to anyway, to see if I still couldn't? Did he have to see it for himself?
Like I'm some kind of science experiment, and he was testing a hypothesis?
The thought is more distressing than infuriating, but I guess I should... I need to say something. Anything. But what? How much should I say, how much can I say? Can I even put it into--
“Suzu?” He asks proddingly. I look up, his eyes are narrowed, he's watching me intently.
I don't want to keep things from him, I don't want to lie to him either, I just...
“Please, Suzu.” Hisao's expression is pained. “I need to know. This is your house. If you can't sleep in your own home, if you have nightmares here, then something's wrong.”
I stare at him for a few long moments, grimacing softly. Then I return my gaze to my hands, I don't want anything to be wrong. I don't want to admit that he's right. But he is, of course. He's right a lot of the time, at least when... at least when me being stubborn is concerned. And he's a lot like... I mean, the reason I can't sleep here is...
I open my mouth to say something, anything but my throat is suddenly dry, I can't get out a single word. As the seconds tick by I, I feel my chest just start tightening up and I know, I know beyond a doubt now that I don't want to do this.
My jaw is clenched, and I even catch myself pulling my hands closer to my body. I shut my eyes, I'm sure that I look pretty... pretty pathetic right now, pretty weak. And it's frustrating to be clamming up like this, for me and I'm sure it is for him too. But how do I say this, how do I... how do I explain something like this? Opening my eyes again, my gaze drifts from Hisao to the hallway behind him, I can see it.
I can see the door. The one that leads to that room, that empty room that shouldn't be empty at all, it should be his. It should be his. But it's not.
Hisao follows my eyes, he turns to look. When he glances back at me, his expression has softened. Like, like this whole time, Hisao...
You did.
You knew.
“Can I change my question?” He asks softly.
“Am I being interrogated?” I breathe, choosing to stare at the floor in front of me instead of the... the worried, stupid, thickheaded... kind, gentle boy who came all the way here because he wanted to be with me.
Because I couldn't, I, I couldn't sleep in my own house, and he couldn't live with that. It wasn't right. It's still not right.
My eyes begin to water.
“Just one more, I promise.” His tone is hushed. I nod, I wipe my eyes, and, at his next question, I clench them shut for a few precious moments.
“What was your brother like?”
I open my eyes again, staring at the space in front of me. So Hisao, you... you really have figured me out.
You let me fall asleep on your shoulder, back when we barely even knew eachother. You, you spent the festival with me, even though I almost faceplanted into some of the stalls. And you put up with me and stuck by me through all the things that followed until you wound up here. I should have known you would want me to be able to sleep, I should have known you would try to fix this.
I don't know if you can. If anyone can.
But I should have known you would want to help.
“You want to know about Seiji?” I ask quietly. He nods.
I almost want to ask why, even though I already know. I've told Hisao a little bit about him, the first time he was here, and this week, at the beach. But not everything, I don't think I've ever really told him who... who he was.
I don't want to, some part of me knows that this will hurt. But can I really say no? Can I really just refuse?
I can't.
Not after everything we've been through.
“Okay.” I say softly, leaning back against the couch. I look down, trying, just trying to scrape my thoughts together and steel my nerve, or something like that. Then I look at Hisao and he's just staring back, waiting and watching, this is... Hisao, this is hard and, and even this is scary, but you know that. I know you know, I can see it written on your face.
Hisao. Again, like when he had first come to visit my house, I pat the space next to me.
“Please come here.” I whisper. My vision is beginning to blur, please, please don't start crying just yet. He complies, rising from the ancient chair and moving to sit down next to me. My hand finds his automatically, I grip it tightly.
Where to begin? Where to... where to finish? I don't know. I don't know. But I have to start somewhere.
“Seiji was my older brother. And my hero.”
It takes a while, but I tell him about what things were like, growing up together as a pair of narcoleptic siblings. I tell him about how Seiji loved art and the culture surrounding it just as much as I loved literature, even though he never painted himself. I tell him about how he always set the bar, he showed me that I didn't have to be scared of everything. And when it turned out that I really should be scared of some things, like, like hard concrete floors and stairs, he was always there to wipe my tears away, or tell me that my cast looked fashionable, or offer me his food when mine was suddenly covered in dirt.
He was the best brother anyone could ask for, he was all I really needed. And I would like to think that I was all he needed too, at least, he made sure I felt that way. Wherever he went, I knew I could follow, I knew that whatever he could do, I could do too.
Through it all, the whole time, Hisao listens patiently, he nods and smiles and winces at various points. He never once lets go of my hand, but when we finally begin to get closer to the... to the end of the story, I run out of steam. I don't want to talk about... about our last year together, not any more than I already have. Not if I can avoid it.
“Can I see his room?” Hisao asks, sensing my hesitation to go on.
“You want... why?” I try not to grimace, my eyes still wet. I really don't want to do that either. I don't really want to go back in there. But... maybe that would still be easier than continuing to talk about this, I don't know.
Hisao looks me right in the eyes. “It's next to yours, isn't it?”
“It is, yeah.” I mumble.
He stands up, still holding my hand. My legs are a little weak, but I hesitantly get to my feet as well.
The last time I was there, it was an accident. But before that, I felt like I had needed to see what had become of it, to see if it had changed. But it hadn't changed at all, even now my parents haven't moved or even really touched anything, maybe they feel like they can't.
Every time I ever woke up there, since last year, I've felt like an intruder. Like I was unwelcome, and if I wasn't, then I should have been. But maybe with Hisao here now, I...
Well, he wants to see it. Maybe he thinks it will help him understand my brother better, or maybe not, I don't know.
I'm not really sure of anything at all. But I walk with him through the halls, I try not to frown when we're standing in front of the room that doesn't belong to anyone anymore, and will never belong to anyone again.
Hisao looks at me, he gives my hand a squeeze, and then he reaches for the door. It opens, we're met with only a draft of stale air and the sound of carpet being scraped.
Glancing back at me one more time, Hisao lets go of my hand and steps through, I follow him, feeling scared, feeling numb, the memories I had just revisited and the ones waiting ahead of me feel like they're pressing in on me from all sides.
I don't know what he expects to find. Hisao looks around at the calm, green walls, the paintings that hang from them and the books on the shelves. There's a stack of canvases and an easel shoved in a corner that were never used, there are still clothes half-shoved into drawers. Slowly, respectfully, Hisao begins moving around the room. I don't know if he's searching for something or if he's just trying to take it in, just trying to understand. I watch him for a few moments, but...
I tear my eyes away from him, glancing at the bed, is it still... no, it's been made. Mom...
As if on cue, I hear the slamming of a car door outside, my parents must be home from work. Part of me begins to panic, I don't... I don't want them to see me in this room, but...
If they do, they might think that something was wrong.
And that’s because something is, and it's been that way for a long time. I guess they know that, by now.
Feeling trapped, feeling... feeling weak, I take a heavy seat on the bed. Hisao is poking around the corner of the room, what are... Hisao, what are you looking fo--
“Suzu?” He calls, not looking back.
I hear the front door open and then close, do we have to stay here? I don't know what's going to--
“Suzu.”
“What?”
Hisao glances back at me, a careful expression on his face.
“I thought you said your brother never painted anything?”
“He didn't.” I reply, staring at him blankly. Hisao just looks at me. And then he cautiously reaches behind everything else, producing a single canvas.
For a few moments I just sit there blinking as the blood in my veins begins to grow cold. I don't understand, Seiji never... he, he had all the tools but he never actually painted anything, so what...
Everything else seems to drain away, I don't hear a single sound as I stand up from the bed and take a trembling step forward. Hisao stares at me searchingly, he gently sets the painting down against the wall before moving back a bit to look at it with me. We stand there in silence for a few seconds, I'm, I'm just trying to take this in, trying to comprehend.
“No, that's not... he never...” My throat is dry, my body is cold now, but I take another shaky step forward. I don't understand, it's... when did he...
I don't know much about paintings. But I know this one is a portrait, composed of thick brushstrokes and infused with a gentle, vibrant glow. In it, a girl is lying on the floor, curled up and fast asleep.
She has sea-green hair, and a warm, contented smile on her face.
“He didn't.” I sputter with trembling lips. My knees give out, I sink to the thick carpet. Hisao doesn't say anything.
Seiji, you were, you were waiting, remember? You never painted anything because there was never something you wanted to say badly enough, you, you never found something that you wanted to share with the world.
But you did? All... all this time and, and there was something you... you wanted to make immortal and--
And it was me?
“Seiji?” I mumble, my voice is quivering as tears spill down my face. “Why didn't you... why didn't you show me?”
“It's...” I sniffle, I can't even see the painting anymore through the haze of tears. My face is all wet but the image is already burned into my mind. “It's beautiful, Seiji. I w-wish, I wish you had shown me.”
“I wish you could have p-painted lots of pictures.” My voice grows louder, I'm sobbing now. “I wish you had become a f-f-famous artist!”
The carpet below me is so thick that I can barely hear Hisao's footsteps retreating from the room, but my head is hot and light now and the air is suddenly so warm, I can't stop, I just can't stop. I clench my eyes shut, can't see now. I'm breaking. I think I'm breaking.
“I could have come to your studio and seen all your w-work and every day I would tell people, I would...”
“I w-would tell people that's, that's my brother. Look at him, that's...” my voice dies down to nothing more than a whimper.
“...that's my b-big brother.”
When I feel a hand on my shoulder, I expect to see Hisao there, staring at me with that comforting gaze. But I look up to see two pairs of eyes, not one.
My parents.
“M-mom.” I choke. “Dad...”
“It's okay, girly.” My father whispers. He gets to his knees beside me and my mother does the same, without another word their arms are wrapped around me, I'm sobbing even louder now.
“All this time, and you still hurt so much. Why didn't you tell us, Suzu?” My mother asks softly, holding on to me as if I might shatter. I grimace, I try to wipe my eyes but it's no use, it's just, it's just no use.
“I d-didn't want, I didn't want to worry you, and you've done so much for me and, and it's...”
“It's my fault, mom.” I cry, my whole body is trembling now, but both my parents shush me softly, they hold on even tighter.
“Suzu, Suzu it's not. You didn't hurt him.” My mother says gently, stroking my hair.
“B-but I, I wanted to go into the city and--”
“You couldn't have known.” My dad interrupts, half soothing, half pleading.
“It still happened because of me!” I wail, why can't they see that?
“And he loved you, Suzu.” My dad continues, even his voice beginning to tremble. “Suzu, he loved you more than anything else in the world. He would never have wanted you to suffer like this.”
“Someone should.” I whimper. Part of me wants to suffer, part of me wants to spend the rest of my life paying for that day. I think that I could, if they'd just let me. But, but they won't, will they? Mom and, and Dad, and Hisao too and--
I blink through the tears, trying to focus on the painting a few feet in front of me. The girl lying there looks so happy, like she knows everything is going to be fine when she wakes up
Seiji, I want... I want to be that girl again. I want to wake up and see your smile, I want to sit down next to you and wait for you to wake up, to give you one of my terrible massages again when your back hurts from sleeping wrong. I want to drag you out of bed and then pretend to pout when you return the favor, I...
I close my eyes, my face is still hot, still wet.
Seiji, I don't want to run anymore. I don't want to sit in the dark, trading blows with this, with this fear and this guilt and this stain on your memory that you never deserved.
“Suzu.” My mother rests her head against mine, I feel my hair beginning to grow wet. “Please just talk to us. Please, just talk. I promise we'll listen.”
I don't want to play anymore, Seiji.
I want to surrender.
“I m-miss him, Mom. So much.” I whimper. Now my father is gently pressing his head to the other side of mine.
“We all do, girly.” He says, his voice threatening to waver.
“I, I miss him--”
“Every day.” He breathes. I hear my mom sniff, I feel more of her tears run down my hair.
“Every single d-day. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, because--”
“It wasn't your fault, Suzu.” My mother whispers. And I, I just don't have the strength to argue anymore. They're both still hugging me on either side, I wrap my arms around theirs, allowing myself to melt into their embrace.
“It's going to be okay.” My dad says softly.
I want to believe them. As they continue to hold me, as they cry right along with me, never in my life have I wanted more to believe.
Something stirs in my memory, I turn to look towards the door. Hisao is standing there, watching us from just outside the room. He looks like he doesn't know what to do, like he knows he's already done everything he can, but his eyes meet mine, and he smiles. It's a small, gentle smile. Happy. Relieved, and hopeful.
I don't know if I can return that smile, not yet, not now. But as I bury my face in my father's chest, as I hold on to my mother for all I'm worth, I know that, eventually, I will.
I will.
Artwork by
Thighs, by request:
Portraits
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