Aisuru

Chapter 1: Sakura’s Reality

Chapter 1: Sakura’s Reality

Yachigashira-chō, Hakodate, Hokkaidō, Japan

Sakura Takeshi wasn’t spending her birthday the way most eighteen-year-old girls do. She wasn’t getting together with her school friends for karaoke. She wouldn’t be going on a date with a boyfriend. There would be no cake, no drinking, and no wasting money on new things to celebrate. Of course, those girls would go on to be nineteen-year-old girls. She would not.

Sakura’s plans constituted a more logical way to spend her final birthday. Well, maybe she would pick up a cake on her way home to share with Ito-san. Her favorite strawberry shortcake from the bakery down the road. Yeah, that would be good.

But, first, she had business to take care of, which is why she was now nestled in an overstuffed chair at the Seikat Legal Firm, sipping hot chocolate and waiting for her turn to see Hiko Aso, the gyōsei shoshi[1] who ran the small office.

While she waited, Sakura studied the fish swimming in the massive aquarium that dominated one wall of the room, pretending she didn’t see the looks of pity coming from the young receptionist. She hated those kinds of looks.

A buzzer sounded and the receptionist stood. “Takeshi-san, Aso-sensei will see you now. Right this way.”

“Thank you.” Sakura returned the woman’s shallow bow before walking into the indicated office. As the door clicked closed behind her, Sakura moved forward to stand in front of his dark wood desk.

Aso-sensei was an older man, with a rather grandfatherly air and a bald spot forming on the top of his head. Much like his office had an old-fashioned feel, his clothes were a little dated, and he still preferred paper to computers. They’d first met three years ago, when he’d carried out the terms of Ito-san’s will. He’d been sympathetic while also ensuring she understood everything thoroughly.

When it was time for Sakura to get her own affairs in order, he was the first one she’d thought of. When she’d first called on him, he’d warned her that he wasn’t taking on new clients; he’d downsized his office the previous year as part of his plan to retire soon. Once she told him that she wouldn’t live that long anyway, he’d shuffled some papers on his desk then declared that he had too much free time lately—one more client wouldn’t hurt, and it wasn’t like she was really a “new” client anyway.

“Good morning, Takeshi-san. Here is the formal will you dictated last time. I just need you to review it to be sure it was transcribed correctly and that everything is in place.”

“Okay.” She took the document from his outstretched hand and began reading it. The house and all her belongings would be sold. Two million yen[2] was bequeathed to her high school, as promised when they’d accepted her into the school; five million to some local charities that were working to encourage the public to be more accepting of transplants and to be organ donors. It was too late for her, of course, but maybe someone else could be spared the same fate. Anything left after her final expenses and the other dispersals would go to the hospital that had kept her alive this long. From her calculations, it would end up being around twenty-five million.

“Yes, it looks correct. And this will make sure those people don’t get a dime, right?” It was one of the main things that had prompted her to do a formal will, ensuring the so-called family who’d abandoned her wouldn’t get so much as a speck of dust from her when she died.

“I promise. Though I doubt they will try to make too big an issue of it, as I’d make sure they knew how public their actions would be made.” He replied with a firm nod.

“Good. Thank you.”

“Now we just need to make it official. Did you bring your personal seal?”[3]

She nodded.

He called in his receptionist and one of his assistants to act as witnesses. “Please sign here at the bottom. Oh, and I need to confirm the seal with your proof of registration.”

He opened the ceramic compact of red paste on his desk and pushed it toward her. After handing him the registration paper, she pulled her carved, jade stamper from its box and firmly pressed the stamp upon the page. The red lettering of the kanji that formed her full name and the thin red border surrounding it stood in stark contrast to the bright whiteness of the paper.

Once the other two had signed, Aso-sensei applied his own seal to it then dismissed the pair with a thank-you. “All right, Takeshi-san, it’s done. It will be fully registered by this afternoon.”

“Thank you for your fast work.”

“It’s no problem. Truthfully, I wish you hadn’t needed my services until I was far too old to be of use.” Though his slight smile was tinged with sadness, it reflected no pity. Still, she hated making such a kind man look that way. With a deep breath, he slipped back into his professional mode. “When the time comes, I will be certain your wishes are carried out as you’ve stated here.”

“I greatly appreciate it.” Sakura stood and bowed deeply. “Good day and thank you again.”

“Good day…oh, and Takeshi-san?”

“Yes?” Sakura paused at the door.

“I suppose it may be odd to say, but happy birthday.”

She smiled at him and nodded in thanks before slipping out the door.

“Sensei, will I make it?” Sakura’s voice trembled, belying her calm demeanor as she waited for Tenma-sensei’s response. It had been almost eight years since her heart and lungs had been left permanently damaged by the quiet stabs of a knife. Her body had continued to grow as she matured, gradually increasing its demands on organs that were just as steadily straining to keep up. She wouldn’t live to be an adult, she’d never marry, never have kids. All of that she had come to terms with, but there was one thing she wanted to do—no, had to do—first.

“I believe so, yes. Your illness is progressing as expected. As long as you continue to be careful, you should be able to graduate this spring.”

“Good.”

“Sakura-chan, you know as the end gets closer, it will get harder for you to live on your own. While I will do all I can to help you make it until then, you will probably have to check into the hospital for full-time care not long after.” His heavy sigh weighed down the cold white room as he glanced again at the papers in his hand. She could almost see him willing the test results to change. “I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault. You didn’t do this to me.”

“I know, but I’d hoped to at least be the one who could save you.”

Sakura shook her head. “Tenma-sensei, it’s because of you I’ve lived this long and that I even have a chance to fulfill my dream. Thank you.”

She was well aware of the fact that he’d spent a lot of time finding treatments to help extend her life, including his personal time. He’d traveled to Europe and America, poring over the results of every study and experimental option he could find. It pained her to see how he took her pending death as a personal failure. She longed to find some words to comfort him, to let him know it was okay. Simple thanks seemed so inadequate, but it was all she had.

“No, it was nothing.” He smiled another one of those small, sad smiles that made her heart ache to see. After a moment, he shook his head, as if trying to clear away the air. “How are things at school?”

“My studies are okay. We have exams coming up in a few weeks. Koga is still being his usual charming self, but I manage to avoid him most of the time. Oh, I have a new homeroom teacher. Mimomo-sensei…She’s young and rather pretty, and she likes poetry. I bet you’d like her.”

He laughed. It was a much better expression to see on him. “Oy, oy, are you trying to set me up on dates now too?”

“I heard the nurses saying you were thinking about doing an omiai?[4] A wife could be good for you.” Sakura smiled. “Like you, she works too hard and is far too kind. One of my classmates was out sick the other week, and rather than give his assignments to a student to deliver, Mimomo-sensei brought them herself. Most teachers don’t do things like that anymore. And on the first Friday of the month, she brings in a special treat for us at lunchtime, as if we’re still little kids.”

“She does sound nice.” His smile faded. “Are you still keeping yourself distant from your classmates?”

“Of course. You know how I feel about it. I’m fine on my own.” She smiled, making it as bright as she could. He didn’t need to be burdened by her growing loneliness or hear how she cried herself to sleep when the fear got the better of her. He didn’t need to know about the nightmares that blended scenes from the past and an imagined future that made it hard to sleep. He would just worry more than he already did. So, she lied with a smile, as always.

“Yes, yes, I know.” He held up his hands in defeat. “I won’t lecture today. I do worry, though, about you in that house by yourself. You aren’t lifting anything too heavy or doing any strenuous cleaning, right?”

“I’m being careful, I promise.”

“Good. Still, won’t you consider hiring a housekeeper, someone to take care of cleaning and the like? It would be one less worry on my mind. Besides, don’t you get lonely there by yourself?”

Sakura knew he mentioned his worries to guilt her into agreeing. They had one of these arguments every few months, him wanting her to be more involved with people in one way or another and her refusing. “I don’t want a stranger living with me.”

“You could hire a service, one that comes by once a week or even just once every two weeks. That wouldn’t be so bad, right? They could do the cleaning and shopping for you. You must be careful of too much dust, you know.”

“I’ll think about it,” she lied again, a smidge of guilt starting to gnaw at her.

“Sakura-chan…”

“I did have that emergency-alert system installed, so it isn’t as if I can’t call for help if I need it.” Now it was her turn to sigh. “If it would make you feel better, I suppose I could start using the grocer’s new delivery service.”

“Good. Shall we call this round a draw then, eh?” They exchanged amused smiles.

After he’d given her the refills for her medicines, Sakura thanked him again. She was almost out the door when he called her back.

“I almost forgot…here.” A small gift bag hung from his outstretched hands as he bowed slightly. Inside was a box wrapped in pretty pale-pink paper decorated with cherry blossoms. “Happy birthday.”

“Tenma-sensei, you shouldn’t have gone out of your way. I can’t accept such a gift.”[5]

“Oh, it’s just a small token. Please, take it. I want you to have it.”

“If you are sure…” Sakura carefully accepted the bag and returned the bow. “Thank you very much.”

“It’s nothing, really. Take care of yourself, and I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

“Yes, you too. See you later.”

As Sakura made her way to the elevator, she paused in the windowed hallway. Hakodate City Hospital was close to the coast. From the fourth floor where Tenma-sensei’s office was located, she could see the sunlit diamonds sparkling in the waves of Hakodate Bay.

At least she would be dying in a room with a great view.

“Tadaima.”[6] Even after three years of no reply, Sakura called out the greeting automatically. Shaking her head at the pointless gesture, she carefully placed her shoes against the step in the entryway, slipped on her house slippers, and headed to the living room.

Like most of the house, the room was a blend of traditional and modern style. Rather than tatami[7] mats, the room had warm bamboo flooring with a rug in the center where the kotatsu[8] sat to keep her warm while she studied. It was also nice for reading or the occasional bit of TV watching. When the weather was nice, she’d eat her meals there to enjoy the view of the garden.

She stopped in front of the small, mahogany butsudan[9] nestled in the corner of the room, and pulled open the doors. Beside the memorial tablet bearing his name, Ito-san’s face smiled back at her from a framed photograph.

“Ito-san, I’m back.” Sakura slid open the shōji door[10] that led into the garden on the side of the house, letting in a cool breeze. The sweet scent of the recently bloomed cosmos rode along the breeze to perfume the room.

“Don’t worry. I won’t leave it open too long.” She sat on her heels in front of the open door, holding the picture in her lap. After her parents had died, her father’s best friend, Ito-san, had adopted her. It was he more than anyone who’d helped her cope with their deaths as well as her own. Now instead of warm hugs and a generous laugh, she came home to heavy silence, which she filled with empty greetings and one-sided conversations.

“The will is finalized. Those people won’t get a dime of the money you saved for me. Oh, Tenma-sensei gave me a birthday present! He really is too sweet. Shall we open it?”

Setting the picture beside her, Sakura pulled the present into her lap. She used a letter opener to carefully split the tape on one end. Once she had pulled the corners up, she retrieved the small gold-and-white box nestled inside. The wrapping paper was folded with care and set aside before she removed the box’s lid. Cushioned within pink-and-white tissue paper sat a large hair comb decorated with a pair of silk cherry blossoms, one white and one pink. Two streamers of matching ribbons ran from each flower.

“It’s so pretty!” After running her fingers through her hair, she pulled a bit back and used the comb to secure it. “How does it look?”

Using the mirror from her school bag, she admired the way the bright flowers and ribbons contrasted her black hair.

“I bet this would go perfectly with my festival kimono.” She tried not to think about the fact that she had no reason to wear it. It was still a lovely gift. “I’ll wear it for him when I go back for my next visit, and I’ll have to send him a thank-you note. Hmmm, I’ll write it before I start dinner.”

She lay back on the floor with her arms stretched out beside her as she stared at the large Kwanzan cherry tree in the corner of the garden. Its rich copper leaves waltzed in the irregular breezes. She could still remember Ito-san’s excitement that first day as he showed her the sapling, a symbol of their becoming a family, which they planted together. Back then, they didn’t know she was never going to get better, and she’d never imagined that their time together would be so short.

“Tenma-sensei asked me about school again. He didn’t try to change my mind this time, though I know he doesn’t agree with me. I mean, it’s for the best, right? It’s bad enough when people start pitying me. I don’t need pity. I’m just dying. So are they. So is everyone. I just happen to know how long I have when most people don’t.” She rolled over onto her side so she could look at his picture.

“Besides, it would just make people sad. Making friends with people, getting them to like me when I’m just going to die in a few months. It would be cruel!” Tenma-sensei’s question came back to mind. “No, I’m not lonely! I’m not! I don’t need anyone anymore. I’m fine on my own.”

Even to her own ears, her declaration was tinted in shades of desperate denial. A heavy sigh escaped her lungs as she reached for the picture and hugged it against her chest, willing her tears back. “Hey, Ito-san, do they have cherry trees where you are now? When I join you this spring, can we lie under them and watch the blossoms fall like we used to? You could tell me those stories again, the ones about that boy you met once, long ago.”