It’s been three months since the accident.
I don’t remember half of this time. When I opened my eyes for the first time I was told that today is the first of May. I was struck by a cargo truck, and after that sedated in the intensive care unit for the following month.
I was lucky: the doctors were successful in their attempt to rebuild my broken limbs, and after a series of surgeries my legs are healing properly.
The only problem is that I can’t move them.
Spinal cord damage is a common result of road accidents. It is considered catastrophic: there is no recovery or cure available. In other words, this wheelchair is my new best friend. And I need to accept it and try to live my life going forward.
Of course, it’s better than being dead. Or is it? If I could choose an outcome, I’m not sure I would choose this.
Thankfully, my arms are working properly. They didn’t even need any surgery and healed without intervention. For the last month I’ve used them to learn how to operate my new moving mechanism. Guess they will be pretty strong going forward.
After returning from the intensive care unit I learned that no one from the school tried to visit me. Guess if they needed some proof that I’m “cursed,” they got it. First I almost killed Hisao, and now barely managed to survive myself.
Speaking of Hisao: it’s been three months since I visited him.
When I woke up for the first time, my parents were at my bedside. They told me that Mrs. Nakai sent me a letter with the best wishes, and she apologized because she can’t visit me. She told them that she needed to return to overnight working because she needs money to pay for Hisao’s new school. Boarding school is expensive, to be sure, and he will be sent to his new school when he is released from the hospital.
I wanted to call Hisao the moment I returned to reality but decided against doing it. He has his own things to sort out, especially after hospital release, and I don’t want to make him worry about me. I will have plenty of time to explain things to him, but not now. Now I need to concentrate on my own future, wheelchair and all. How am I supposed to live going forward? How am I supposed to finish my education?
Hisao didn’t return my feelings when I was healthy and supportive. Now it looks like I need support. Will he even look at me the next time we meet?
Summer is a beautiful time. After learning how to operate the wheelchair I was permitted to roll around in a nearby garden. I’m excited that I can leave my hospital room because it’s boring and depressing. I can’t even imagine how Hisao managed to cope with staying in his hospital room, basically chained to his bed. Maybe that’s why he was so sad when I visited him.
Today my garden “walk” ended early: my parents arrived to visit me before the doctors decide if I’m ready to be released.
When I entered my hospital room, there were three people inside. My father, my mother and my doctor were happy to see me. It looks like they discussed something before I entered the room.
“Ms. Hara, good afternoon”, said the doctor.
“Mom, Dad, Doctor, good afternoon”, I said, rolling to my bed.
The doctor opened a folder with my medical records and continued:
“Well, as you may guess, today we decided to release you from the hospital. All that we can cure here, we’ve done. Of course, you need to adjust to your new requirements, but”, the doctor looked at me with a smile, “you’re doing pretty well in that regard. Surprisingly well, to be honest.”
Well, that was one reason to be happy.
“It is common that after hospital patients return to their respective homes, schools or workplaces. But there is an obstacle that prevents you from returning home, unfortunately.”
“Well, my dear, we need to renovate our house to accommodate your new requirements”, said Dad, “but we’re not finished yet. You may return home with us, if you wish, but you will be effectively locked in your room until renovation is done. Unfortunately, neither me or your mother can leave our work to help you in the meantime.”
“I understand, Father. That’s unfortunate, but I guess I can’t stay in the hospital for that time either?”
“No, you can’t. Also, we decided that you shouldn’t return to your old school. You’ve been bullied even before this accident: I don’t think that you want to return to such a hostile environment afterwards.”
“Well, let me guess...”, I said.
I can’t believe it.
“Yamaku?”
“How did you know?”
“Father, do you remember Nakai? The boy, that almost died in my hands?”
“Of course I do. You can’t just forget such an impactful event. But how did you know about that school?”
“Mrs. Nakai told me about it, and I even saw some photos. I guess, the day, when I was struck by a truck, she wanted to tell me, that they decided to put Hisao in that school.”
“Well, it seems that I don’t need to tell you about this school much. So, do you want to try to graduate at that school?”
“I will try, at least. When will I be transferred to the school?”
Mother took my hand and squeezed it.
“Immediately, my dear. Do you want us to help you to pack your things?”
that's fair enough). Obviously the premise itself is a bit too coincidental, but i don't really think that matters. The preamble was just about getting Nako to exist in the same time as Hisao at Yamaku, and I think you handle it well enough. Coupled with the obvious parallels and juxtapositions; Nako is physically disabled and Hisao is invisibly disabled. What will their interaction be like when they finally meet again? (Theoretically, couldn't Hisao be with Hanako in this time frame... anyway exciting stuff! I look forward to more.
