The journey

(1)

Even now, I still couldn't understand why Yuanyin had chosen Kanagawa Prefecture out of all those cities, with its terrible roads and less-than-stellar medical care.

Before getting into the police car, I had checked that this well-seasoned antique had no mechanical issues that would make it break down halfway or send its tires skidding. So I could blame the roller-coaster jolting entirely on Kanagawa Prefecture's rugged roads.

The roads in Kanagawa Prefecture seemed like relics of the last century. Every millimeter a vehicle traveled along this road subjected all four tires to the torture of being sliced to pieces.

The car's bouncing gave Toji and me, sitting in the back seat, a brief taste of "father-daughter affection."

I was too light to stay firmly seated, and after several jolts that lifted my butt off the seat, I plunged headfirst into Toji's arms like a rock tumbling down a landslide.

-What a heartwarming scene. Yuanyin, that's what you'd say if you were here, wouldn't you? In a teasing tone, of course. You always loved seeing me caught in an awkward situation.

I fell into Toji's arms in a thoroughly undignified pose-or, more precisely, onto his thighs. When my damaged arm, where the slightest touch sent pain through my whole body, struck his thighs, as unyielding as slabs of marble, my head buzzed as though it were about to explode.

It felt like someone had fired a gun straight into my injury. The pain made my scalp prickle, and cold sweat poured off me.

Get up. Sit up right now!

I took a deep breath and tried to shift my leverage from my waist to my neck, pushing against what was closest. Just then, this godforsaken road sent the old car bouncing rhythmically up and down.

What did bouncing up and down mean?

It meant my head and injured arm repeatedly bounced against those thighs. I had never known thighs could be so muscular, so rock-solid.

The maddening pain nearly made me hallucinate. I imagined an enemy standing in front of me with a submachine gun, enthusiastically spraying bullets into my already precarious arm.

Whether it was psychological or the impact really was that severe, I didn't know. I didn't think I had suffered such inhumanly brutal trauma in any of my lifetimes. It was practically battering me to death. But the most infuriating part was that this kind of battering couldn't actually kill me-it could only keep me alive and conscious.

Just as I was about to pass out from being dragged between life and death, the car took a flying leap, lifting my arm and head off Toji's thighs. I sprang into action. In the half second the car was almost airborne, I desperately twisted at the waist, trying to sit upright again, when a large hand pressed firmly down on my head...

Toji pushed me back onto his lap. With an expression I couldn't see from this angle and a tenderness in his voice I had never heard before, he told me, "Go to sleep."

Go to sleep? How am I supposed to sleep? Toji Zenin, open those green eyes of yours and take a good look. Can. I. Possibly. Sleep?!

I wanted to say something, but the pain had already robbed me of speech. So I struggled, as hard as I could. Unfortunately, my struggles coincided with the next stretch of uneven road, and Toji mistook them for the car's shaking.

He was so considerate. So very considerate, cushioning my entire arm-which hurt so badly it had gone numb-with his rock-solid thighs.

And so the jolting spread through my whole body. I had never known pain could spread from one agonizing spot to every part of me.

I can't take this. I really can't.

-Help, Yuanyin. Is your husband really human? Are you sure he isn't one of those fully modified cyborgs you told me about?! How can his muscles feel so much like aluminum alloy?

I cried, even harder than I had that day in the car when the young boy comforted me. I even cried out loud. Only crying out loud made me feel as though it hurt a little less.

Tears could deceive people, but right then, I desperately wished that someone-the officers in the driver's and passenger's seats, or Toji-could see the truth behind mine.

But no one did. No one!!

"Ah... let it out. Have a good cry in your father's arms. We all know you've been through a lot." The slightly older officer behind the wheel glanced into the rearview mirror with a look full of warmth, then slowed the car. As though to prolong this display of "father-daughter love."

It's all right, officer. I forgive you. It's so dark, after all; I can't expect you to see the truth through the rearview mirror. But could you please speed up? Now that you've slowed down, this doesn't feel like a mere submachine gun anymore. It's a cannon.

The younger officer in the passenger's seat simply pulled his police cap down over his eyes, trying to give us father and daughter a little family privacy.

With no hope left in the front seats, I sobbed as I stared at Toji's chin.

Please look down at me. I'm begging you. Just lower your head, and you'll see my agonized sobbing, my ashen face, and my unbelievably swollen left arm pressed against your thigh.

But he didn't either. My crying left him at a loss, as though comfort had never been part of his education in life. I could see a trace of panic in his movements.

That trace of panic felt familiar. Yuanyin had moved the same way when she held a child for the first time and, in her flustered fumbling, dropped me on the floor.

It seemed no one had ever taught either of them how to comfort others or be comforted.

But Yuanyin had me. If she didn't know how, then I would learn. I learned how to comfort someone, how to cheer her up when she was sad or in a bad mood. The acceptance and familial love she had never experienced in childhood-I did everything I could to fill those blank spaces with color.

Eventually, Yuanyin learned. Then she embraced Toji with the same familial love I had once given her. She probably wanted to teach him, too. But she didn't have enough time, so she sacrificed the time she spent with me.

Even after sacrificing all the time she could have spent with me in this lifetime, the truth was that this man, still so flustered now, had never learned the love I had taught her.

Not even the agony in my body could stem the ache in my heart. I resented it. I really did.

I knew I couldn't be Yuanyin's only family, because she would find a lover of her own and create a family every bit as important as me. But at least, once she had that new family, she shouldn't forget me, avoid me, or treat me as though I didn't exist.

Across all those lifetimes, I had seen divorced mothers remarry with their daughters in tow, then have a child with their new husbands, a testament to their love. I had once asked Yuanyin wistfully whether I would become like the daughter who lived across from us, an outsider abandoned by everyone.

She told me I wouldn't. She would always make time for me.

The word "always" was so insubstantial when it came out of people's mouths. Only never seeing each other again could land firmly on the ground and take root.

Just as I was about to sink into painful memories that would destroy my reason, I heard the man who refused to look at me say softly,

"I'm sorry."

As though afraid I hadn't heard him clearly, he scratched his hair awkwardly, then said again, "I'm sorry."

My tears stopped at once. I fought to swallow every sob, endured the pain in my body, and summoned all my strength-not to say, Let me sit up, but instead,

"It's not your fault."

Toji Zenin, I never blamed you.