Chapter 7

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Sorry for being a little sluggish, and if this chapter isn't that good! I've been in Japan for the past few days and my asthma's not so good with the weather :/

However, I'm currently sitting in the Makomanai ice arena in Hokkaido, awaiting Mao Asada's FS :') I watched Yuzuru's FS last night, and well... It was a little disappointing, to be honest, but as an athlete myself, I understand the pressure he is put through.

I'm a big fan of Mao Asada and Marin Honda too, and I hope I can get some signatures!!

------- UPDATE bc I'm a slow poo in writing this


--------UPDATE bc I'm STILL NOT DONE WITH THIS BLOODY CHAPTER the roads are so slippery in Hokkaido Yuzuru Hanyu could probably dance Seimei along the highway

The first few days after discharge, Em doesn't dare to text Yuzuru.

On Tuesday night, she paints, again.

She's had a habit of painting her walls. Whenever she lands herself in hospital, she would promise herself to add another mural to her walls in her bedroom, to motivate herself to get out of that hellhole and back into her bedroom.

Today, she's drawing a yellow Pooh above her headboard. Her brushstrokes are fluid and gentle, and she flicks some brown paint with a toothbrush to touch up on Pooh's fur, before adding her name.

She admires her own masterpiece.

Not bad.

The rest of her wall is filled with many different colored murals, of random things. A blue pigeon, a green bottle, a small red paper clip.

Anything to make her walls colourful.

She couldn't afford to have her walls plain and white just like the hospital's.

It would be just too horrible. There'd be no difference between being at home and at the hospital.

That night, as she finishes her last nebulizer treatment, her phone buzzes.

Yuzu: Hello! How are you?

Em takes a peek and puts her phone back down. She packs the rest of the nebulizer-- the tubing, ah yes, the tubing-- into the bag.


She stares at the black mobile lying on her sheets.

Picking up her phone, her fingers move to construct a quick reply.

Em: Hey :) sorry for not texting, I was busy with schoolwork.

His reply is near instantaneous.

Yuzu: Oh. Am I disturbing you? I'm sorry, it's alright, maybe we can chat when you are free?

She frowns, and her fingers tap again.

Em: No, you're not! I'm very free now, we can chat, if you want to.

The bubble appearing on her screen tells her that he is typing, but the reply doesn't come.

Nearly a minute later, the ding of her phone informs her of the message.

Yuzu: Oh okay! Um, what's your favourite sport?

Well that was random.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Yuzuru was panicking, unsure of how to spark an interesting conversation between him and Em. How did those people in the movies chat so smoothly, as though topics just came to their mind naturally? Great, now he's going to scare her off, and--

Em: I like to play a little bit of basketball in my spare time. Not really play, I just enjoy shooting the ball into the hoop. Is that counted? What about you?

Yuzu: oh haha I don't really play sports much, sometimes I go to the gym, and I swim to help with the asthma.

Yuzu: what's your school like?

Em: it's a private school, and it's really big and all, but there's a lot of drama, like gossiping and bullying I guess. Yours?

Yuzu: oh. My school is back in Japan, and I have good friends back in Japan, but some of the classmates there can be mean too, they can tease you for your interests.

Em: yeah, I got teased for liking Stitch.

Yuzu: it's alright, I got teased for my sport!

Em: what sport?

Yuzu: ah, it's embarrassing! Anyway.... I have to go. Talk to you later, Em-San!


They continued texting each other for the next few days, talking about random things, like whether brown cows produced chocolate milk.

Then we will need pink cows for strawberry milk, Yuzuru said.

Everytime her phone gave a pleasant ding (she set a special ringtone for Yuzu's messages), she felt like there were so many colours in the world, and she didn't have to worry about facing white walls, she didn't have to fret about the dullness of her life, forever trapped alone in a room where the walls were plain white, and nobody understood her.

But some days, he didn't reply, until late night. He would reply very quickly on weekends, but on weekdays, he only replied in the early morning, sometimes at noon, and at night. Maybe he was busy with school. But he didn't have school here. Maybe he had another person to text.

On Friday, Em's parents came back, and after the usual fussing over whether she ate enough, or whether she wore enough, they had a good family dinner together.

Her parents were the only ones other than Yuzuru capable of bringing colour to the white walls that she often faced.

The days that she spent in the hospital, afraid of everything and anything, the days when the silence was deafening, and she longed for somebody to interest her, to make her laugh, to make her smile, she wished her parents would come.

But their work was always more important.

As much as she hated her parents' work for bringing her parents all over the world but never back home, she had to admit that it was their work that allowed them to even afford all of Em's medical expenses and live comfortably.

And she was grateful for that.

Her phone rang, but it was a normal ringtone.

Ah, her schoolmates.

Tammy: Hey Em, are you better? You free next week? Let's go ice skating :-)

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