Lavender | Wakatoshi Ushijima

49 | Young Again

Two Weeks Later

"Dinner's ready. Do you need help down the stairs?" She hesitates.

I was discharged today after getting the green flag from my physiotherapist. My legs and knees are good to go, I need to continue exercising and eating to grow into my skin again.

"No, thank you," I decline. To say this is peculiar is a minimization. My mother has been offering help. She hasn't left for work. She steps away and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

I'm less pale. I'm close to the average weight range for girls my age; I'm starting to look like myself again. My cheeks are fuller, naturally rosy as they used to be. My body is still on the thinner side. I've written a bunch of affirmation notes and stuck them to the mirror frame, as Wakatoshi advised me to do. He googled it, but I pretended not to know that.

He's been around every single day, alongside Kiyo who'd visit every other day. During my physiotherapy sessions, he helped me more than the specialist himself.

He mentally noted a few things, nodding his head along the process. I couldn't believe that he cared this much. When I needed to use the restroom, he'd walk me there until Keiko could help more.

Dare I say my cup of water was empty or that my green tea was brought in by someone other than him. Any time I craved a snack of some sort, he'd either go to the cafeteria or run to a convenience store nearby. He'd make sure I finished my food if he was there.

When I finally got the IV needle out, he'd told me to just focus on him and name as many types of flowers as I could remember. I didn't get very far, but I had named plenty by the time Keiko finished up.

At some random point, I realized that he used to walk with me because he 'lived in the area.' I asked him about it, confused as to how he could've been living with his mother during school when he said he goes home during breaks. He confessed that he made it up to walk with me, looking away briefly out of pure embarrassment. I was at a loss for words, so I changed the subject.

When my parents arrived, he didn't fail to greet them politely for my sake. He made little to no conversation with them. I could sense the sharpness in his tone, but I've come to realize that he has a bit of sharpness with everyone. I can never find it in our conversations, it confuses me.

The amount of patience he has is unbelievable. He'd listen to me talk and talk and talk until I had summarized my entire life's experience. He'd never zone out or tune out, he would listen. I made sure to listen to him too. I have to admit, my entire stay at the hospital brought us a million times closer.

I couldn't believe how caring he was. He would stay as long as he could, especially after he wrapped up the tournament. He was scrambling to tend to my needs even though there's a nurse I can easily call for with the press of a button. He didn't want me to be alone, both physically and mentally.

There's life in his eyes again. We would go for walks around the hospital yard or just snack in the cafeteria. I will always love him for making the most of our time together. My feelings for him could never give out, I could never move on from this. I guess I'll just have to live with it.

He was the one who walked me out of my hospital room for the last time. My parents followed. Even in the elevator, he kept his forearm still so it could be like an arm rest. The little things. He wouldn't let my hand go.

He helped me in the car and stretched his hand out after letting go. I never understood why. He even shook hands with my father who thanked him for helping me. When my parents were ready to drive away, I waved tearfully to Keiko.

Then, I saw the biggest smile on his face that I'd never seen before. Teeth and all. I caught a dimple too, the cutest I've ever seen. Like a little indent in his cheek. His eyes were squinting and the sunlight made him look a hundred times more handsome. I clutched his sweater tighter as his figure grew smaller beside Keiko. I heard a buzz from my phone that my parents had brought from home.