Chapter Sixty One Year Later
Chapter Sixty
One Year Later
All love stories began with one word and ended with another. “Hello, goodbye.” “Stay, leave.” “Yes, no.” When Keishin had met Jackie during his sophomore year in college, they started their relationship with an unremarkable “please” and ended it four months later with a polite “thank you.”
A year after Hana had vanished from Super-Kamiokande’s water tank, Keishin still struggled to figure out what their words were. He was inclined to settle on “sorry” as their first. It was his safest bet. They had wronged each other and sought forgiveness so many times that, statistically, one of their apologies had a high probability of standing at the border between where their friendship had ended and something harder to describe began. Determining their last word was more difficult. His last memory of Hana was made up of screams.
Keishin waited outside the ramen restaurant, burrowing his hands deep into his coat pockets to keep warm. Two people shivered in line ahead of him. He wished there were more. Hope kept him company while he waited and abandoned himas soon as he was ushered through the door. A year of disappointment had made him lose his taste for ramen but did notstop him from returning to the restaurant whenever he could. Still, there were days when making the trip from Gifu to Tokyo felt as futile as reaching out and trying to grab the moon. Those were the same days that Keishin wondered if the real Keishin had been left behind in Hana’s world and a Shiikuin had taken his place. He sat on the train, soulless and cold, an empty shell.
Despite what Keishin had learned in biology, purpose was more important for keeping someone alive than the blood in their veins. Having lost his, he was surprised that he was still breathing. It was, he thought, one of the strange things about being human. Even when you had nothing to live for, there was always going to be a part of you that refused to die.
A party of three people walked out of the restaurant, their bellies full and their faces content. The bearded man managing the queue waved the next three people in line inside. Keishin sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. He stepped through the doorway, repeating a fervent, frayed prayer. Please, please be there.
The clinking of bowls and cups gave Keishin an answer he did not wish to hear. He turned on his heel and fled, apologizing to the server who had let him in.
—
The sky broke open and emptied over Keishin, soaking into his shoes and socks. He had expected it. Every weather report that day had told him that it was going to rain. That’s why he had left his umbrella in Gifu. He wanted to have the best chance of getting drenched. He took the longest route back to the train station and pushed up his sleeves. Maybe, this time, he was going to find the tattoo of Hana’s name on his wrist and have proof that meeting her had been more than just a dream. Without it, all he had was a year’s worth of train tickets and ramen receipts.
“I told you to bring an umbrella.” Ramesh walked alongside him, sheltering beneath a large black umbrella. “I’d offer to share mine with you, but I’m not really here.”
Rain plastered the silver streak in Keishin’s hair to his face. “I liked it better when we met at the restaurant.”
“You chose to walk out of that cage. You can’t go back.”
“I chose Hana.” Keishin stared at the empty spot on his wet wrist. “And she’s not here.”
“I’m sorry, Kei,” Ramesh said. “But this is one problem that I cannot help you solve.”
Keishin shoved his hands into his pockets and trudged to the station, holding his breath as he stepped into every puddle he could find. “I know.”
—
His father had once told him that there was only one measure of how well a person spent his day. It depended on how much of the day you spent pining for the future or regretting your past. By that scale, Keishin was undoubtedly having a terrible one. He blew his nose and regretted, with every hacking cough, his decision to drown in the rain. He curled up beneath his covers, shivering. A knock on the door distracted him from his misery. “Come in,” he said, his voice hoarse from a night of nonstop coughing.
“Dinner is served.” Hana carried a bowl of soup on a tray into the room and set it on his bedside table. Pieces of tofu and shredded seaweed bobbed in a clear broth. “How is my patient?”
Keishin propped himself up against the headboard. “Better.”
“You don’t look any better. Let me check your temperature.” She slipped a digital thermometer under his arm.
“Thanks for the soup.”
“You’re welcome. I made it from scratch,” Hana said. “I opened the packet and poured boiling water over it all by myself.”
Keishin chuckled then choked on a raspy cough.
A high-pitched beep interrupted him. Hana retrieved the thermometer and checked its small screen. She held it in front of him. “You’re burning up.”
Keishin waved the thermometer away and coughed. “I’m fine.”
Hana rolled her eyes and pressed two paracetamol tablets into his hand. “Take this and try to get some sleep.”
“No.” Keishin clasped Hana’s hand, dropping the tablets on the floor. “I don’t want to.”
“Why not?” She dabbed his forehead with a damp towel.
“Because when I wake up, you’ll be gone. I know that you’re just a dream. The only thing worse than losing you is losing you over and over again.”
“You’ve dreamt about me before?”
“Many times. Different dreams, but they all end the same way.” Keishin wept. “You leave me.”
“Maybe this time it will be different.” She climbed into bed next to him. “Maybe I’ll stay.”
Keishin put his arm around her. “No more lies, remember?”
“It’s not a lie. It’s a wish. I wish I were real.”
Keishin tried to dry his tears, but more fell. He would have asked them to stop, but even in a dream, the only law they followed was gravity. “Do you know what I wish? I wish that Icould grieve you. Grieving ends. But I can’t grieve. You’re notdead. You’re just… gone. And I can’t do one damn thing about it.”
“I’m sorry.” Hana laid her head on his chest.
“God, I miss you, Hana.”
“I miss you too.”
“Can you tell me a story?” Keishin closed his eyes. “Just until I fall asleep?”
“What story would you like to hear?”
“The one about the fisherman and the turtle that became a princess.” Keishin pulled Hana close. “But this time, don’t let him leave her in the sea.”
“All right, but only if you do something for me too.”
“Anything.”
“Stop looking for me, Kei. I live in your past. You can line up at the restaurant all you want, but yesterday has no door.”