Lavender | Wakatoshi Ushijima

44 | An Unfocused Cycle

Throwing my sweat-soaked clothes onto a corner of the square teal-tiled floor, my eyes catch sight of my body. Lean and sturdy, perfect muscles. Veins in some places, bulging, toned olive skin everywhere. And it's thrilling, to look and find no wrong. No flaws, nothing short of perfection. Symmetrically, mathematically, amazingly flawless. Proportions and measurements are on point and a thin zap of adrenaline is reverberating in my bones. Content is growing larger and larger until I see it. My face.

I stumble closer to the mirror in disbelief. My reflection sucks me in to face this horrid being standing before me. My hair is messy, kind of greasy, my eyes look as dull as the pavement outside. I can barely see the olive color of my father's eyes. And the eye bags are deep, deep, deep. My cheeks may be the most viable thing left. There's flesh left there. Such a haunted, exasperated, twisted face resounding back. It's sitting there. Watching. I look down to my chest. Surely they can't be the same.

And it begins to go wrong. So wrong in so many different directions. Splitting endlessly until there's a roundabout and then my thoughts diverge as I inch my gaze downwards only to see that I've been deceived. My torso is lean because I've barely eaten today. It's been living off a protein bar and water. It's lean because I mainly have water in the system. It's not sharp, it's sunken in. If I dare press against my skin, I'll touch a bone. My biceps and shoulders are toned because they're desperate to survive. My body now looks pale, as it actually is. It's a lie.

I walk in the shower and the water isn't too warm yet. Barely. It pounds down on my head. Good.

I close my eyes and I raise my head upwards, cold, tranquil water soaks my face and trickles down. Timid rivers drip into my mouth and it's like an oasis in the desert. That disgusting taste. I can make out the water flowing up my eyelids, only to run back down. Dripping off my nose in neat beads of moisture. It reaches my ears and I stand there for minutes breathing it all in. It runs down my temples. I breathe into my nose, through my throat, into my lungs, and god.

Taking in every moment of it, watching my mind clear. Everything takes a halt. It's like everything is going down the drain. Everything. My thoughts, my emotions, anything on my mind. The feeling is irrevocably lively, so refreshing to have my nerves focus on the fore of my body. To distract myself, to run. Freezing water. That's all it takes to escape.

I finish up with no thoughts on my mind.

I barely have time to catch the 8 p.m. bus back to Sendai after grabbing a pack of mint gum from the convenience store. It's a half hour ride in a peculiarly slim bus with two thin strips of LED lights. The left one is flickery. There's a tired Sanrio sticker on the metal pole people hold on to. I take the same bus with a middle aged woman that carries a maroon bag.

I sit, freezing hands deep in my pockets with a paper bill ready to pay. The burn of the mint on my tongue mixed with the cold weather isn't ideal. I throw the gum out, breath refreshed. I'm not hungry, either. The old bus driver stops with a smile and takes the note. I have change. I step off, slightly dizzy.

Two steps from there I trudge into the flower shop. I catch a smell of the spray I put on. A sweet, masculine scent that's sharp. The one I usually wear. A peaceful feeling emerges through me. The vanilla-like smell with the dampness of my clean hair and the soft material of the zip-up make me feel good. Like I've actually accomplished something today. Asahi was right.

It's a minimal place with two employees. I ask the guy with the stubble for a few lavenders again. He brings them over like he's accustomed to it. He loops twine around them three or four times before handing them to me. I pay with the change I have left. He gives me a tiny discount.

Her features are everywhere. Every attribute is in the flowers. Her cheeks are in the azaleas, her heart in the dahlias, her soul in the tulips. Threads and little things of hers are embedded in every petal of this shop. She would love this place, all of it.

The night air is beaded with leftovers of the sun's warmth. Lavenders in hand, I start at the pavement to the hospital.

I'm with her every night at around 8:30 until visiting hours are over at 10. She had surgery the day I saw her and she could not be visited again at night. Her procedure went smoothly. My heart beat in my throat when I found out.

The next day, she was too exhausted to stay awake. The nurse, Keiko, told me she would stay awake to eat, then fall back asleep. She's like me. Mrs. Ito had visited her earlier in the day. I was by her side, she was fully asleep. She looked like she was at peace, so I was too.

I walk through the lobby, straight to the elevator. I've memorized Level 8. I know the way to her room like the back of my hand.

I knock shortly. Looking through the tiny glass window in the door is no use, only a baby blue curtain. Keiko opens the door with a slim crack. She looks off.

"I do not know if it is the best time right now." She turns her back to me and says she'll be right back.

She slips out and almost closes it behind her. I hand her the lavenders customarily.

"Is she okay? What's wrong?" My stomach is active again.

"Miss Takahashi is more awake today. She's only taken an afternoon nap." She smiles.

"That's amazing."

"She is tired. She is on aggressive IV nutrition and is gaining weight little by little, but she is still weak. I am cleaning up the surgery wound on her back for the first time, I believe she would prefer her privacy." She offers a thin smile.

"Of course. Has anything else happened?" I ask.

"Dr. Amane has prescribed her with supplements. Iron, B12, and Vitamin C. Now that she's had surgery, she does not need to take her other pills. Oh, thank god. Ushijima, this seems like a fresh beginning for her." She smiles with a hand on her heart.

A smile is creeping up on me.

"A psychiatrist has visited her today. Dr. Amane wanted to check that off the list. He told me she does not need to take any medication. Her anxiety can be manageable. If she takes pills, it is not healthy for her liver alongside the strong supplements," she says, filling me in on all the details as usual.

There it is. I feel my pulse again.

"What did she eat today?"

"She had cooked vegetables and sausage for lunch and dinner. She liked it, somehow. She said she has not been eating well recently. I was thrilled when she ate well. She had two bowls of soup and a carton of banana milk."

"If you can, please tell the chef, or whoever prepares the food, to make her more green tea. She really likes it." I can finally breathe.

"Okay. Oh, also. A friend, Kiyomi, stopped by as well. Lord, forgive me, but I peeked into the room and they were hugging each other in tears. I brought more banana milk for comfort. They looked relaxed and at ease."

"Nakamura is her best friend. I'm glad she came, they're practically sisters."

"That was on today's agenda," she laughs. She presses her hands together.

"I'm sorry to press you so much, Keiko. I'm only worried about her." I say, embarrassed. For the first time in a while, I laugh too.

Keiko is a young woman who's now a good friend to me. She always updates me on Hana's progress. She's close to my age, confusing she graduated early, so she insists I call her by her first name.

"I don't mind. I will finish up and, hopefully, you can see her tonight." She slips back into the room quickly. I feel warm and glad.

I don't know if I can do it. I don't know if I can step in there and sit down. I don't know if I can face the guilt. I don't know what to say to her. I want to apologize, but I don't know if she's willing to listen to everything I want to say.

I'm not hers, and she isn't mine. She does not owe me any forgiveness. She should be focusing on her health. She should not be paying me any mind. All I want to do is to embrace her and tell her that I love her. But, that isn't what she should be dwelling on. There are more important things. She's more important than anything.

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Author: didn't really eat with this chapter, i wanted to be more descriptive, all in all could've done better
im struggling with a lot but i keep going for u, thank you for being here 💞