Dreams of the Quill

by Flak

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• • • … there’s something wrong…
      • … something feels… off…

      … the surface of the Earth… ripples, like the vast waters…
      … the endless sky… shimmers, with the intensity of a bonfire…

      I can feel it coming.

      • … but…

      
      I don’t think I’d mind so much…

      • 
        … if you were here, onee-chan.

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Seven years ago, I used to just sit on my bed and stare off into space. Sometimes I’d get this feeling deep inside, that I needed to do something- anything. I had to stop sitting on that bed and staring off into space. But despite those urges, I somehow didn’t have the strength to get up and move. I would just sit there, and eventually the urges would be replaced with a sorrow I myself could not comprehend. Those urges, words I don’t understand: “Must get out.”

At some point I heard another voice, replacing those in my head. A gentle voice, speaking softly to me.

“Really, now, why are you sulking?” It had some cheer in it, and it made me raise my head. I understood direction, and turned to face the speaker.

“Voice…” I mumbled, and reached for the person’s neck. I guess the speaker was startled, but not taken completely aback. A silky hand took mine, and held it to the smooth flesh of a creamy neck. And again that wonderful voice rang out through the room, and I felt it travel through me to all my extremities. Like a dead weight, my hand fell from the person’s neck, and I leaned forward lethargically. Comforting arms surrounded me and drew me in, and I found myself experiencing yet another novelty- an embrace.

“Onee-chan…”

Well, that’s the best I can do to describe that hazy day. I like the present better, anyway. Everyday, I wake up to her smile and every day I go to sleep, her “oyasumi nasai” repeating itself gently in my ears. Her name isn’t onee-chan. She’s not my sister, either. Come to think of it, I don’t know really know her name. But she’s so kind, so strong. She lives with this disease as I do, and she taught me how to make myself be alright. How to turn a lie into a truth.

I really don’t know much. About the last seven years, about this disease, or about my best friend, my onee-chan. But I remember some details, most of which I’m not sure I’d like to remember. Memory is a cruel thing, finding the facts and thoughts we hate most and bringing them to the surface once more. Yet, in a way, I’m thankful, grateful, that my memory’s in tact. You see, I didn’t know much in the beginning either. I’ve lost nothing. My memory is healthy- perhaps the only part of my that is. With it, I can remember the pain, I can remember the darkness. I can remember that deep sorrow that would grasp me when I was unable to do anything. But most of all, I can remember onee-chan.

She’s tall and has beautiful brown-red hair that falls to her feet when standing. It drags on the floor when she walks from her bed to the bathroom, and the motion it makes when she gets out of bed and straightens herself is simply magnificent. Her eyes? I don’t remember them, because I’ve never seen them. She’s always wearing a white cloth over them, even when she sleeps. She might be blind, but even then, why the cloth…? As I said, there’s so much I don’t know.

The rest of her face, I could see, and still know by sight, touch, and heart. I still remember, even in closing my eyes, the exact shape of the curve of her lips when she smiles. I remember how almost everyday for years, we would talk for hours. How when I wouldn’t talk, she would lean forward in her bed, and face me, despite being sightless. She would ask me, in that wonderful voice she has,

“You alright, Akane?”

And despite her lack of sight, I would smile for her and say,

“I’m fine, onee-chan.”

It would invariably be a lie, but I would be fine soon enough. I would do my best to make her smile not go to waste. I would be alright, for her. For onee-chan. Both of us know, the whole time, that we weren’t asking eachother if the other was alright. We weren’t saying we were alright. Nothing was, or is, alright. There was no need to ask. We shouldn’t have faked it, better yet, we shouldn’t have lied to ourselves when we told eachother we could make the lie come true. There were a lot of things we shouldn’t have done together, but the list… it is much shorter than the list of things we couldn’t do.

* * *

After seven years of living in one room like I did, you begin to accept that that’s the way things are. It’s your lifestyle, and you take it for granted. I don’t remember when I stopped thinking about the disease, but my depression over it began to fade out over time. I was stuck with it after all, until the way it would take my life. So instead of being troubled over it, I just enjoyed my time with onee-chan. That is, until now.

Seven years ago, she appeared in my life, and clutched me to her, brightening my world with her radiant smile.

And now… for the first time after seven years of constant company, I feel so lonely. Onee-chan was always there to cheer me up, and now, without that, I feel empty. I don’t want to be confined to this bed any longer. Why am I here? Am I a threat to anyone? That can’t be it, I’m so weak I wouldn’t be able to swat a fly.

I need to get away from here. Those urges return, but this time, they’ve seized me. I understand them. I understand the words, “must get out.” I need to get away from me. All these years, I’ve been comforted and had those odd urges suppressed with the contentment of sharing my days with onee-chan. But now, now onee-chan is gone, this place holds nothing for me, the emptiness of her bed is haunting me, and I think there’s something wrong with my nose, I can still smell her scent, and now my eyes are deceiving me, she’s smiling at me from across the narrow space between our beds, no, no, it’s my mind, I’m insane, I’m insane, and she’s gone-

I realize I’ve been clutching my pillow so hard that my knuckles have gone white. I release it slowly, fingers aching. Why am I here? Why was she here? All these years, I never asked her why she wore that cloth over her eyes. Now she was gone, and it was too late. I’d never know. I needed answers, but I had no source. All these years, the only person I’d had contact with was onee-chan. Whoever took care of cleaning the room and leaving us food did so while we slept, and it never occurred to me to stay up late and wait for them.

I need answers now.

I push myself out of bed and drag myself over to the door. I try the handle, nothing. The door is locked. I’m on my knees on the ground before it, one arm reaching up for the knob. I jiggle furiously.

“Open up! Someone, anyone, open up!”

The rattling of the knob is loud. How can they not hear it? Can they not hear the despair in my voice, can they not tell I need to ask them questions, can they not tell I need answers? I gather all my strength and with one fist pound as hard on the door as I can, once.

“Open up…”

Why have they locked me in here? Why am I here? The disease? More questions! Open up, please, open up! I need to know things. Open up… please… tell me, what is this disease?

They’re talking, outside. Discussing something. I hear whispered mentions of my name, hushed concern. I’m huddled by the doorway, leaning against the cold metal, my ear pressed flush to it.

“Ukinare-san, I’m coming in,” a firm man’s voice tells me after a few minutes. I move away a little, along the floor. The knob turns, and the door swings towards me, stopping inches from my face. A man, presumably the one who spoke, enters slowly. He notices my position, and his expression shows concern. “Ukinare-san, why are you not in bed?”

“Why wouldn’t you open the door?” I ask, pouncing on the opportunity of speaking with someone, and ignoring his words. As he pauses, perhaps searching for an answer, I take in his appearance. The third person in my tiny, fragile world. He’s tall and lean, with a sharp face accented by eyeglasses with an oddly angular frame. His fair brown hair falls in neat bangs to just above his green eyes. He’s wearing a white coat over his blue turtle-neck sweater and dark blue pants.

That turtle-neck- somehow, it feels nostalgic… the way his hair brushes the tops of his glasses. He’s not smiling, not even close, but somehow I feel like I’m seeing that face with a broad grin on it. That mental image… should not be possible…

“I-” he starts, but I cut him off.

“Why did you wait until now to talk to me? Why did you never show your face before?”

“You’ve seen my face before,” he says slowly. He closes the door, reaches out with his hand. I shake my head, refuse the assistance, and shakily force myself up and back into bed. He takes a seat on the edge of onee-chan’s.

“I have not,” I reply firmly after settling myself. “I have never seen you. All these years, I have only known one person. I don’t know who you are!”

“You’re serious, aren’t you? You don’t know who I am? You don’t remember?” Instead of worry or concern, he seems in pain.

“I remember everything! I’m telling you, I don’t know you! I’ve been here for seven years, and this whole time, I’ve only known one person…” He doubts my memory before himself. Who is this guy? Some doctor, clearly, but beyond that…

“I… see…” his speech, slow before, is now at a snail’s pace. He looks down and holds two fingers to his temple. He breathes deeply, and then faces me. “While we’re on this topic, why did you wait so long to ask for us to open the door?”

I slump back in my bed and look away.

“All these years, one person was enough. Without the ability to do anything, being confined to this room, as long as I was with onee-chan I was fine. Now, she’s gone, and I’m suffocating. Where is she? Where did you take onee-chan away to?”

“Ukinare-san…” the doctor looks surprised, as if he hadn’t expected me to be this troubled over it. I realized tears are slowly flowing down my cheeks. “We didn’t ‘take’ Yujuuna-san.” Yujuuna? So that’s her name. How pretty, onee-chan.

“Then who did?!” He’s in pain, he’s suffering just like I am. Why am I being so harsh?

“Death took her, Ukinare-san.”

“Death? Who’s that?”

“So you’ve forgotten what death is, as well,” the doctor covers his mouth with his hand and his eyes narrow as if he were thinking hard. What’s he talking about? What “death” is? “How do I explain this? It’s when someone is no longer alive.”

“You mean she can’t smile anymore? Her existence is no more? The end?” Onee-chan’s… gone? For good?

“This is so hard to explain to you, Aka- I mean, Ukinare-san. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry, but please just don’t task me about Yujuuna-san anymore. Please.” I stare at him in shock. He, too, is crying. But why?

“What’s the matter, Sensei?”

“I can’t take your questions anymore, Ukinare-san.” The door opens once more, a nurse rushes in. She places her hand on the doctor’s shoulder and leans towards him.

“Sensei, don’t strain yourself,” she says softly. Unexpectedly, he brushes her hand off and shakes his head from side to side.

“I’m fine, I just need to rest a little,” he replies with false cheer in his voice. As he stands, our eyes meet through the light reflecting off his glasses. There’s ample sorrow there, enough to spread to five people and leave them all miserable. Right now, it seems the connection of our eyes joined the two wells of grief within us, and like a torrent it all comes gushing out.

Something is bubbling deep within me, something fighting to escape my throat and pass my lips. A cry? A name? And just when I thought I might burst from the feeling, he turns and the connection is shattered, torn apart by the smooth curtain of his hair.

“Wait!” I call as he makes to leave the room, nurse in tow. “I still have more questions!”

“Ukinare-san, don’t trouble the doctor,” the nurse turns and smiles at me as she says this.

The doctor is out of sight, the nurse gone, the door closed. I’m still sitting in bed, my hand, fingers spread wide, reaching in the direction the only remaining people in my world had gone. I cough back a sigh, sniff back some tears. Why this overcoming sadness?

It’s painful, onee-chan.

* * *

Reo-sensei this, Reo-sensei that. It’s as if every person I’ve seen in this place is obsessed with him. All the nurses, now showing up for the first time. Reo-sensei, what’s so good about him? He’s so unprofessional it’s almost laughable. The guy who came to my room, the guy who couldn’t answer my questions. At the end of that first meeting, I thought maybe he wasn’t so bad. Sure, he left me there wondering things, but that moment we shared where our eyes met had assured me that he could understand me.

We met a few more times, and still I’ve gotten nothing out of seeing him. Nothing except worry. In parting one day he asked me if my memory was actually perfect.

“You say it’s perfect, Ukinare-san, but then can you tell me what your life was like before you woke up here seven years ago?” he’d asked. Onee-chan, this is a troublesome person! He says all sorts of weird things as if he were sophisticated… as if he were toying with me.

“Ukinare-san, I’m coming in.” The door opens and the doctor comes in.

“Good day, Reo-sensei,” I greet him cooly. Why did he have to come now?

“Ukinare-san, come on, come on. Don’t ruin the moment.” And that’s when I realize, he’s smiling. He’s smiling, and it’s filling me with warmth.

“Why are you so energetic?”

“We did some tests on you a few days ago,” Reo says. “And not only is this a monumental day in the history of our research, but this is good news for you as well. Ukinare-san, you’re cured.”

Waaaait a minute. Doubletake.

“I’m what?” I ask, unable to believe it.

“You’re cured!” he cries, rushes to the side of my bed and grabs my shoulders. “You’re cured!”

“The disease?

“It takes one and it leaves one! My hypothesis was correct! Akane-chan, I-” he stops, suddenly. Akane-chan? Since when did he call me that? “-er, Ukinare-san, I-”

“Never mind that. More importantly,” my eyes widen as I realize the implications, “I’m here because onee-chan died? She died so I could live? I’m here because she’s gone?” Onee-chan… I’m here in your place…

“Don’t think of it like that! Of course, we’re very sorry for Yujuuna-san’s passing, but if we look on the bright side-”

“Why me?” Silence strikes, punctuated only by my shaking breath.

Reo shifts uncomfortably, lets go of me and pulls back.

“Why me? Onee-chan was more deserving of life!” I clench the sheets, grit my teeth. “If this is the way things are, I’d rather be dead!”

“You would be,” Reo speaks after a while.

“What?”

“You would be dead, had Yujuuna-san not offered her life up in exchange for yours. Do you not think it is dreadfully cruel to refuse this after the fact?”

I quiet down and bow my head in shame.

“Ukinare-san, Yujuuna-san loved you. We talked to her before she died, asked her if there was anything we could give her to ease the inevitability. If there were any commodities she’d like in her last days. She refused everything we offered, claiming that being by the side of the one she cared for was more than she could ask for.”

Onee-chan, if it had been me… I’m so weak, yet I feel the same way! Onee-chan…

“Don’t you think that the best way to repay Yujuuna-san would be to make use of her gift? You should live, Ukinare-san. You should live an enjoyable life.”

“How? I can’t do anything? Even if I try, I can’t make onee-chan happy!”

“I’ve given the hospital permission to release you anytime you desire. It might be too early, but whenever you’re ready, feel free to drop by rehab and work your strength up. Oh, and while we’re at it, I’ll have the nurse bring a walking support later, so you can get around the hospital on your own.”

My room was no longer a prison.

* * *

I never went to rehab. I high-tailed it as soon as I could after Reo left the room. In a matter of minutes, I’d been released, and was out the huge double-doors. Out into the world, into an unbelievably bright world of green and gray.

I set off alone with only the cane and my single white dress, trying to just get away from the hospital. It was only after twenty minutes’ hobbling that I realized I had made a very bad decision. Where do I go from here, onee-chan? My hand couldn’t hold the cane any longer, and I dropped it. Without its support, I fell to my knees, and, from there, flat on my face. I lay sprawled out on the ground, a chill breeze passing over me.

I put one arm out and leaned on it, tried to push myself up. I flopped forward as my limb collapsed as well. I lay there calmly for a while, disconcerted. After all this, could I not get up and walk on? Even if I did, where would I go? Home? Where’s home? If I even had one, how would I get there? I was different from onee-chan, I was weak. I couldn’t do anything without her. I don’t know how long I lay there on the ground, out of sight of the hospital, yet still far from anything else. It was awfully cold, but that was least of my worries.

As things finally began to dim, my last thought: onee-chan.

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Chapter Select Part One: Nananen Part Two: Fuyu Part Three: Haru Part Four: Natsu Part Five: Aki

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