Day Thirty
"Goddamn that girl, where is she? Late to the last rehearsal... disgraceful."
As much as I usually disagree with Daisuke, I think I have to side with him this one time. He is right, today is our last rehearsal before the festival, and it is - rightly so - the most important. So for Naomi not to show up... it's a bit of a concern. Usually she's quite diligent in her practice. This last week, we all put in everything we had and yet Naomi still seemed to put in more work than any of us. Even in class, Naomi would be humming her tunes, and doodling the lyrics down the margins of her pages. Hmm, now that I think of it, she wasn't even in class today. That's not normal for her. Something must be up.
"Seto and I will go look for her. She has to be around somewhere."
"Be quick, Akarada. We don't have time to waste."
Seto and I depart the music room and make our way to the girls dorms. Naomi's room is the first place we'll look. I haven't actually been there yet, but Seto knows the way. Room two-one-four, apparently. It only takes us a minute or two to run there. When we arrive Seto raps on the door. We wait a few seconds, but there is no response. Seto looks to me, and I shrug. Maybe she didn't hear? Seto knocks again, a little louder and a few more knocks this time. Still no response. Seto calls out to Naomi through the door, but silence is the only reply. She must not be here.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
Seto and I turn around and find a girl from our year standing in the open doorway of a room nearby. Both Seto and I 'uhhh' for a second, though only I manage to form a sentence out of it.
"Uh, we're looking for Naomi, have you seen her?"
"Inoue? Yeah, she's in room 2-5 with everyone else."
Huh? Room 2-5? What on Earth is she doing in there? I thank the girl for her help and I take off to find this room, Seto close behind. 2-5... that would be on the second floor, and it would be a purpose-specified room. Like us seniors, the second year students also have four classes, so any rooms numbered higher than four are generally used by clubs for extracurricular activities, or for storage. What Naomi is doing in one of them is beyond me. Well, one of them that isn't the music room at least. As we approach, we note the door is open and there is a fairly audible level of chatter emanating from it. I round the turn into the room first, and call out to Naomi. A girl with blonde hair pops up at the back of the room.
"Yes?"
I look around the room. There doesn't appear to be any sign on the distinctive fiery hair of our compatriot. Perhaps we have the wrong room? I check the plaque on the door; indeed it does state 2-5.
"We were looking for Naomi?"
"That's me, what can I do for you?"
"You? But..."
"Is something wrong?"
"Oh, nothing, I think we've just been directed to the wrong Naomi. We're looking for Inoue."
"No, you've come to the right place. I'm Inoue."
What? You're not Naomi Inoue, you strange blonde girl. Naomi Inoue is taller than you, and has completely different hair and eyes to you, and is goddamned missing. What trickery is this? Unless... I look to Seto; the realisation has more than likely reached him as well.
"I think there's been some kind of mix up. See, we're looking for Naomi Inoue in class 3-4, with red hair..."
"Oh, not this again. This isn't the first time that's happened to me."
"Oh good, you know who I'm talking about then. Have you seen her?"
"Not today, no. But when you find her, tell her I've got her mail again. The student council don't seem to realise that switching our mail stopped being funny over a year ago."
"Um... right. I'll keep that in mind. See you later."
Seto and I exit the room and begin walking aimlessly. Where to now? I rest my chin in my hand as I think. Well, it's not so much resting, because I'm standing up and I have to lift my arm for my hand to each my chin, but the intent is the same. It's a thinking pose. I run through a mental list of places Naomi could be. She's not at her room. She's not in room 2-5. She's not at the music room. The nurse's office? No, her appointments are on Sundays. The Shanghai?
She wouldn't be there when we have rehearsal, would she? Ugh, we don't have time to go there and check. We've been gone for over twenty minutes now... maybe we should just head back.
Our reappearance at the music room is greeted by an exasperated 'finally', spoken by none other than Daisuke. As luck would have it, not long after Seto and I left, Naomi turned up, so now they've been waiting on us. They couldn't even get in contact with us because we had left our phones in our bags. When that is mentioned, I hang my head for not thinking to call Naomi before we went looking. Oh well, it's too late now. We just have to get into rehearsal mode and get going. We all take up our planned positions on our future stage, as marked out by tape on the floor, and begin to play song number one on our setlist.
Slightly more than three hours later, at the conclusion of our second run through our performance plus encore, I realise the time. Damn, I have to get going to my appointment soon. I look over at Daisuke, seated in his wheel chair, its arms folded away and his wrapped around his bass. He's not going to like this, but I think it would be better to leave now than wait another few minutes and ditch in the middle of a song. I sigh out of defeat. Damned if I do, damned if I don't. Although... three and a half weeks in, he should realise I have to leave this time three times a week anyway. I make my way over to the bearded bassist and announce my leave. As I expected, Daisuke doesn't like what he hears. Unusually though, he relents without so much as a single thought.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Get going Akarada. We can rehearse just fine without you. I came here this morning intending to get through three performances, and in spite of all these delays, I'm gonna do it even if I have to finish by myself. You better strum like your life depends on it while you're gone, you hear?"
"I will, don't you worry. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."
"Damn right you will. Be early; I don't want another repeat of today when it comes to playing live."
"I wouldn't dare hold you up again, you can count on that."
"Good man. Oh, and... get some more practice in on songs four, five and nine."
Ugh, critical even up to the last day. For a second, I even thought he was going to compliment me. I shouldn't be so presumptuous. I stand my ground for a second in hesitation, desperately wanting to tell him to blow it out his ass, but I turn tail and make my way to the nurse's office. I can't fault him for telling me to practice anything in particular when I'm heading off to practice in the first place. Well, heading off to have my blood pumped out, filtered, then pumped back in to me in the first place, and practicing in the second, but who really cares about technicalities?
My time in the nurse's office passes pretty quickly. It's quite curious how short two hours seems when over seventy five percent of it is taken up by what will be our performance tomorrow. It's amazing to think how far we've come in just this short time. It really helped, I think, to have Sakura come in from time to time and listen to us. She gave us insight into how our performance was holding up from an outsiders perspective, although I did note that the days in which she sat in on us were, for the most part, the days that Miko wasn't playing at her best. Miko has improved a lot though, so come tomorrow she should be fine. I might just tell Sakura to keep herself hidden if she intends to watch, just in case.
Once I reach the end of our sixteen songs, I find myself with about twenty minutes to spare. May as well get that extra practice Daisuke suggested in. Four, five and nine. It doesn't feel as natural to play the songs out of the order we've had drilled into our minds the last few weeks, and I find myself having to effectively count my way to which songs Daisuke meant. Rather than memorizing them like the tracks on a CD, I'd just been remembering them as a sequence. B after A, C after B, D after C, and so on. Nevertheless I figure out what I'm meant to be practicing, and get to work on them. Just as I finish, someone knocks at the door of the nurse's office. It's Naomi, holding a large white envelope in her hands. Her eyes widen as she notices me hooked up to the dialysis machine.
"Oh, Katsuro, I thought you'd be gone by now, seeing as you'd left early..."
I might have left early, but I still went to my appointment on time. I just sat outside for a few minutes, enjoying the sunshine. The nurse checks his watch, then the clock, which strikes me as odd. He shifts in his seat to look at me, then turns back to Naomi.
"Katsuro will be done in a few minutes, if you would rather wait. I don't mind."
"No, it's alright. It'll only take a minute anyway."
"Are you sure? You know, having another patient listen in on our conversations kind of breaches the doctor-patient confidentiality code."
"Not if it's my choice to allow it. Now are we going to get this over with, or what?"
"Very well Naomi, if that's what you want. Pass me your scans."
My guitar is all but forgotten as I watch the interaction between Naomi and the nurse. Naomi hands over the envelope, from which the nurse withdraws some large, film-esque prints. Some kind of x-ray, or ultrasound, I presume. Some irrational part of my brain automatically associates the word 'ultrasound' with 'pregnant', and I have to remind myself that ultrasounds do a lot more than check up on a baby. Besides, Naomi wouldn't be... would she? Pfft, no way. When the nurse applies the prints to one of those light boxes on the far side of the room, and turns it on, I can make out what appears to be two dozen smaller images arranged upon them. I can't quite tell from this distance what part of Naomi they depict.
"Hmm, these look much the same as last week. I'd have to do some measuring to be exactly sure, though."
"That's what the specialist said. I was thinking that, maybe, if it was the same two weeks in a row, then..."
"I know where you're going with this, Naomi. It's going to sound really cruel, but I have to tell you not to get too excited."
"You don't think the same thing?"
"Look, Naomi, I told you when you first came to me that I'm not a specialist in this area, so anything I said would have to be taken with a pinch of salt. I still don't know why you show me your scans."
"I... I suppose it's because... I want a second opinion. I want there to be the possibility that the specialist could be wrong if she said things were bad."
"...You could have picked many people better suited to delivering a second opinion than I, Naomi."
"Yeah, I know..."
"Hey, you aren't supposed to agree with someone when they put themselves down!"
The sudden mood swings of the exchange startle me. And the way Naomi and the nurse talk. I might just be being paranoid, but it seems as if their choices of words serve to say as much to each other as possible while doing the opposite for me. Because at the moment, I'm as lost as a snake in the Arctic. Try as I might, I can't glean any useful information from the rest of Naomi and the nurse's conversation. All I know is that Naomi sees a specialist of some kind, shows her scans to the nurse every week, and wants the specialist to be wrong sometimes. Naomi catches me staring at her as I try to unravel her secrets. The nurse also notices me looking, and throws his hand up in the air, index finger outstretched, as if he's going to announce something.
"Katsuro! I had completely forgotten you were still here. You've been here longer than you needed to be by now... not that that's a bad thing in any way."
"Oh, uh... don't worry about it. Just, uh, unhook me?"
"Hahaha! Of course! Then you and your girlfriend here can get out of here and spend some time alone!"
I glare at the nurse as he walks over. He has the most peculiar sense of humour, and sometimes I'm pretty sure what he jokes about crosses some kind of line. Like now, for instance. Behind him, I notice Naomi blushing. Her eyes meet mine and, possibly out of embarrassment, she turns away to collect her scans and return them to their envelope. Finally free from the evil needles of the machine that keeps me alive, I stand and stretch my legs. I stow my guitar back in its case, and Naomi waits at the door for me. I smile at the gesture, and together we leave the nurse's office. We walk in silence for several minutes, unimpeded by the prescence of any students, given the late hour. As we approach the courtyard of sorts adjoining the two dorm buildings, Naomi quietly speaks to me.
"Katsuro, can you spare a few minutes?"
"Uh, sure, what for?"
"Just come with me for now."
I can't bring myself to probe any further. The way she spoke... it seemed abnormal. Not in any negative way of sorts, but just in that it wasn't said like a casual request. I get a vibe that kinda feels like what I expect the conversation would be like when someone breaks up with you. Not that I'd know from experience at all, but that's just the feeling I get. Even though we're not going out, despite the nurse's jests. Naomi leads me into the girls' dorm, up the stairs leading to the second floor, and then stops outside room two-one-four. Remembering the events of earlier this afternoon, I realise Naomi has led me to her room. Naomi unlocks the door, and ushers me inside.
She doesn't turn to face me when she enters the room. Rather, she stands at her window and looks out of it at some object beyond the glass. Unsure of what to do, I stand awkwardly just inside Naomi's room and take a look around. It's not that dissimilar to Seto's room actually, the difference being that Noami's room is more feminine. Naomi's room is much tidier, and smells lightly of some kind of perfume. Many of her band posters are the same as Seto's, while others depict some well known female artists, and anime posters - some recent, some much less so - cover the walls in lieu of Seto's game posters. A dozen or so figurines line some shelves above her bed. Some of them are really elaborate; I have no idea how much anime figurines cost, but I'd say those ones would be worth a fair bit.
A fairly high-end stereo occupies part of her desk space, and nearly all of the rest by boxes of CDs. I can make out what some of them are from here, Naomi has some really great taste. Of course, being in band club with her, I knew this already, but seeing her collection like this is nice. It certainly contrasts my own collection of music, in that where all her music is on the desk before me, all mine exists only metaphysically - that is, it's all on my laptop and iPod. I don't think I've ever actually bought a physical CD in my life. When Naomi speaks again, it's so quietly that I almost don't notice.
"Katsuro, remember when you said that if I wanted to talk, you'd be happy to listen?"
"Of course. I still stand by that."
"Good... please sit down."
I do as I'm told, setting my guitar case against the wall and seating myself on the nearest furniture, the end of Naomi's bed. It takes quite some time for Naomi to turn away from her window, and when she does, the look on her face stings me like no physical would could. It's one of pure, unrestrained pain. Not physical pain, but emotional pain, the kind you deal with when a family member passes away. All of a sudden Naomi seems a lot older than eighteen. I swear I can pick out the creases in her skin from where she's shut her eyes as tight as they can go, or where her mouth has been contorted by the worst kind of tears. I open my mouth a little in shock at her appearance, and my heart breaks.
"I was going to talk about this some other time... but running into you at the nurse's office like that, I think I owe you an explanation."
"You don't owe me - "
"Don't interrupt. I need to do this all at once or else I won't get it done at all."
I close my mouth and resolve not to speak, no matter how much I might want to say something. It's obviously a very big thing for Naomi to talk to me like this, so if she wants me to shut up, then by god am I going to shut up. Naomi takes a few deep breaths before continuing.
"In my last year of elementary school, I was pretty sporty. I played all kinds of sports, soccer, baseball, hockey... and I played them well. I would often play in teams above my age grade, so it wasn't uncommon for me to take a hit from time to time. Women's sports can be tough. During one game of hockey I was playing for a women's level team, I took hit to the head that left me concussed. Naturally, they took all the normal precautions, sent me home, gave me rest and all that, but several days later I was still in pain. So my mom took me to the hospital to get checked out. They did a few standard tests, but then recommended I have an MRI scan. When the results came in, the doctor asked that we speak to him in his office. He told me that day that I..."
Naomi stumbles at this point. Her voice peters out into an inaudible whisper. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and crunches her hands into tight fists. Slowly exhaling, she opens her fists and her eyes, the latter of which now seem unfocussed and misty. When she continues, her voice no longer has any semblance of the confidence or power that it holds when she sings.
"He told me that... that I had brain cancer."
The admission crashes over me like a tidal wave. Shit... I'd worried that Naomi might suffer from something bad, but not once did I ever imagine it would be something as bad as that. I can't even bring myself to think the word, such is the power it holds. It's probably the most soul-destroying word in the world, irrespective of language. And for Naomi to be told she has it, as young as she was... all of a sudden my condition seems beyond insignificant in comparison. I desperately want to stand up and hold Naomi, to hug her and tell her that everything is alright, but she resumes speaking and I dare not interrupt her.
"I didn't say a word that day. The doctor explained a lot of things; what it meant for me, how it would be treated, how long I would be under the care of the hospital, the name of my specialist, the odds of survival if I chose to or not to accept treatment... I couldn't even answer. I couldn't look him in the eye. All I could do was stare at the floor and nod. The way he talked, it was like he was trying to reassure me that nothing would change. But I wasn't stupid. I knew a lot was going to change in my life. I was going to miss the end of the school year, I was going to miss sport, I was going to lose my social life, my wellbeing, my hair..."
As she says this, Naomi's hand reaches up to touch her hair band. Biting her lip in determination, she takes hold of the ornament, and gently removes it from her scalp. Along with her flowing, fiery red hair. When Naomi resumes her full standing height, she looks very different. She looks unnaturally skinny. Her head looks too small. Her hair, which is actually dark brown, is really short, shorter even than Daisuke's. I never noticed before, but her eyebrows aren't even red, and they stand out now that I realise this. Naomi shifts slightly under my gaze, and she replaces her false hair upon her head.
"I can't even bear to look at my hair anymore. I've become too used to this wig... everyone has become to used to it. Even my parents recognise me by my wig now. No one here even knows that my hair isn't even red, except for Seto and the nurse, of course. Back to my... my condition, I've been undergoing treatment for three years. That's why I'm away every Sunday, except for tomorrow. I arranged to have it done today so I could play with you guys. I was off getting scans and check ups and all sorts of tests... thankfully it's not as full on as it was back then. At first, all the chemotherapy made me sick, and lethargic... I couldn't have been happier when they told me that I didn't need to come in so often. Nowadays, it's mostly just checking to see if it's all gone, or if it comes back. But after this long, I don't know how much longer I can deal with this. So many times have the scans come back negative, and so many times have the next one, or the one after, or the one after that showed its prescence again."
Naomi's posture is slumped. She looks broken. On the verge of giving up. Naomi closes her eyes, possibly in an attempt to shut out the painful memories, and a single tear runs down the left side of her face. Without even realising what I'm doing, let alone controlling it, I rise from my place on Naomi's bed and step over to her. I wrap my arms around her and pull her in for the strongest hug I have ever given. My right hand rests on the back of her head, which in turn rests on my shoulder. It's a little awkward considering her height, but the meaning of the act remains the same. Stifled slightly by my shoulder, Naomi continues to talk.
"Katsuro... I'm sorry."
"Sorry? What could you possibly be sorry for?"
"For burdening you with all this."
"Naomi, if it was any trouble for me at all, I wouldn't have offered to listen. It takes a lot of courage to say what you said just now, and it would take a damn fool to reject that in any way."
Naomi doesn't respond to this. Instead we remain standing as we are, Naomi wrapped in my embrace. We stay this way for several minutes, or several hours, I don't really know. When Naomi breaks our contact, she appears much less pained. Her eyes are still a little puffy, but she no longer looks like she's suffering under the weight of her situation as she did when she was telling it to me. Naomi looks into my eyes for a few seconds, then steps forward again, this time taking me in her arms.
"Thank you, Katsuro. This really helps."
"Whatever you need, you can count on me, Naomi."
"I'll hold you to that. Now get outta here, people might think it a bit suss if you hang around too long."
I smile at Naomi's implication. Naomi releases me from her hug, and I remain rooted to the spot, my mind whizzing along at a mile a minute. It was really nice hugging her. It was even more so being hugged back. She's so soft... I want to hug her again. I want to be close to her. I want to be ins - no. I can't. Not now. It takes an incredble amount of effort to wrench my thoughts out of the gutter. Hesitating no further, I pick up my guitar case and bid Naomi farewell. When I finish closing her door, and stand alone in the corridor, I wish I was back inside. Stifling my desire, I trudge back to my room. I need plenty of sleep before tomorrow. It's going to be a big day. For me. For Naomi. For all of us.
On to the next part: Day Thirty One
