Chapter Fifteen

I flex my fingers.

Skye yawns widely before bringing her arm to curl around the mug of milk, pushing it to her lips where she takes a sip. I tilt my head to the side, scrutinizing the dark rings that are beginning to show around her bright blue eyes. Her skin has grown paler and her stubble of a head no longer glints in the sunlight. She coughs and I can just imagine it rattling through her bones, through her blood as it spreads like a poison.

“You’re staring.” Skye mumbles and I look back to her face. Her head looks too big for her scrawny, stick-like body. She yawns again before lifting up the mug and sipping more at the milk. I notice her purple-green veins as her hand tightens around the handle. I don’t say anything and just lick my chapped lips. I flex my fingers again, the air reminding me how empty my palms are.

“What’s it like?” I find myself asking before I even realize what I want to know. She looks confused.

“What’s what like?” Being in a family. Being a kid. Being sick. Knowing you are going to die faster than anyone else. Knowing there is nothing anyone can do about it. I debate on what to say but it doesn’t matter, she answers anyway. “Oh. You mean being sick.” she murmurs softly and it sounds like shattered glass in the kitchen.

It still hasn’t hit me yet. Early this morning, after moving her and discovering she wasn’t just any other thirteen-year-old girl but one who may just be sick, I had grabbed a blanket from one of the cupboards, an extra for when I couldn’t be fucked to do the laundry. I had draped it over her form and spent the rest of the morning sketching her in my living room, sleeping peacefully on my sofa, as if one blink and she would be taken away from me. And when she woke up, all the telltale signs were there and I hadn’t even noticed. I don’t even know if I can tell now. I’m still searching for signs that this must be some kind of a joke or a misinterpretation. But it’s not; it’s all there if you look close enough.

“I guess it’s just one of those things you can’t hide, huh?” I still don’t say anything and she doesn’t look up, choosing to trace little patterns in the kitchen counter, “I have cancer. Acute lymphoblastic leukaemia, if you want to be exact. I don’t think I need to explain anything else more.” She finishes quietly shrugging her shoulders. She takes another sip of milk.

“You - the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you! It’s not all about you, all the fucking time! Sometimes, it’s about me. Sometimes, it’s about someone else. And you...you just don’t get it. You’re just...god, you’re so blind.” At the echo of Dai’s words last night, my mouth goes dry. I have to ask and I force the words out.

“Dai –”

“He knows – it’s been about a week or so already since he noticed.” I am blind. I am so, so, so blind. I swallow down the rest of my questions and get up, heading into the bathroom. Skye doesn’t stop me but only watches me go. The weight of confirmation seeps into the air of the apartment, a heavy saturation that infects it. Cancer, I roll the word over on my mind, then again on my tongue, watching in the mirror as my mouth twists around the ugliness. I grip the sink, peering at myself. Compared to the little girl sitting in the kitchen, I am as healthy as a horse. Bile rises in my throat but I choke it back down. Sometimes, it’s about someone else. That’s what Dai said. This is what he meant.

---

“Good morning, Mrs. Akita.” I incline my head as the door swings open inwards, revealing the lip-curling, disapproving expression on her middle-aged visage.

“Sebastian.” She sniffs, almost haughtily and I pretend this doesn’t affect me at all. There’s a reason I hate seeing Dai’s family, especially his mother. It’s always difficult trying to pretend the memories of Dai and I making cookies with her (‘making cookies’ being a term I use loosely seeing as we made more havoc rather than chocolate chip goodness) never happened, that the times she used to make my favourite meal whenever I came to stay over were non-existent, that the time she gave me a Disney band-aid when I fell off riding Dai’s new bike, meant nothing.

“Okaasan, Mika wa –” Dai’s fifteen-year-old sister, Sumiko, stops mid-step when she sees me, her face automatically curling into an identical expression to her mother’s. She glares at me and I just smile at her before turning back to Dai’s mother.

“Is Dai up yet?” she regards me for a while before turning to Sumiko and gesturing for her to go check. She doesn’t invite me in and lets me stand out there on the porch with Skye, who I’m sure is looking at all of this with interest.

“I don’t know why Daisuke always insists on hanging out with you.” Ouch. I, again, conjure up a small smile as she looks me over, finally noticing Skye.

“Hello!” she chirps cheerily, Mrs. Akita’s brown eyes widening a fraction in surprise. She nods at Skye; unsure of what to make of her as she beams up at Dai’s mother, stubbly head now shining proudly and making up for the lost shine when we were in the kitchen having breakfast. Happiness radiates from her and for all her appearance, in that moment, she looked normal. Not sick, but normal. That is, as much as one can be with a shaved head.

Before Mrs. Akita can ask about the strange situation, Dai comes down in his pyjamas, hair ruffled and pressed on one side where his head had been lying on the pillow.

“Ohio.” He mumbles to his mother, rubbing his eyes and then glaring at me, his tone icy “Sebastian, what –” he stops mid-sentence as Skye rushes forward and tangles herself around his legs.

“Ohio Dai!” she giggles, immediately beginning to chatter on about the Japanese language as she pulls him up the stairs of his own home. He looks dazed and confused, letting himself be dragged like a rag doll. I shoulder my way in, incline my head again at the surprised Mrs. Akita before making my escape into Dai’s room, finding Skye inspecting his things as he watches her.

“Dai-kun, I didn’t know you liked reading comics.” Skye picks one up and begins to flick through it, “You can actually understand all these symbols? I think that’s weird! But really cool too, I wish I could learn another language.” She sounds wistful towards the end.

“It’s called manga.” He says tiredly. I edge into the room, the creaking of the floorboards beneath the carpet alerting to Dai of my presence. He looks over, sighing and shaking his head, gorgeous locks flying around his pretty face. I lick my lips, tasting the mixture of mint and summer night beneath the cedar. I flex my fingers for the third time today, not longing for a pencil anymore but to feel smooth caramel skin molding against the palms of my hands. I want to tell him I’m sorry. I want to tell him I understand even though I don’t. I want to tell him how sexy I think he looks with his messy bed head and flannel kiddie pyjamas and how all I can think about right now is kissing him because I want to and not because I think he’s an easy escape.

“Dai, I know.” I tell him instead. He turns to Skye.

“You told him?”

She shrugs, “He kind of figured it out. I stayed over and he noticed.” She returns to running her index and middle finger across the spines of his books and manga comics.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I don’t know who I direct this question to and it hangs in the air for quite some time. I don’t know if I’m mad that they didn’t tell me. I’m not even quite sure what I should be thinking right now. Because I don’t care, I’m not the kind of person to care because by caring for someone, you allow yourself to be cared for in return. And I know more than anyone how much that hurts – like a real motherfucking dagger in your chest and the slowest bleeding out you could ever imagine.

“I didn’t want you to start acting different. I don’t like it when people know. They begin to treat me like I’m glass and they change. They start acting nicer and you can see that they feel sorry for you. I hate that because at the same time I know they’re thinking ‘thank god it wasn’t me’. I’m not made of glass and I will not break. I’m tired of people thinking that I will.” Skye’s words are bitter and sour, an unfamiliar concoction on her pink lips. She refuses to look at either of us, still focused on examining Dai’s bookshelf. The words are familiar to my ears and I shouldn’t be surprised – I’ve only ever been running them through my mind since...the incident. “Promise me.” Skye suddenly whirls on us, her blue eyes beseeching and wide in all seriousness. “Promise me you won’t act any different. I’m sick of it. So promise me, please.” She licks her lips, staring us down. Neither of us move, say anything, heck, even breathe for a while until suddenly, as if of their own volition, my feet take a step towards her and then another until I’m bending down seeing her eye to eye. My whole body is running too fast for my mind, like an out of body experience or something. I can see my lips forming the words, can hear myself but it’s like I’m on the sidelines and there’s someone else inside my body, making me do this after years of promises that I wouldn’t. Not ever, not again.

“You better hope you’re not made of glass after we’re through with you today, brat.” Dai sucks in a breath behind me and Skye stares at me for a long time before breaking out into a wide smile, showing me the gap in between her two front teeth.

---

“Don’t let me fall!” Skye shrieks as she veers off to the left and Dai immediately grips the bike that he had only just let go in an attempt to get her riding on her own. We’d been out here for an hour or so, me watching Skye try to master the art of cycling on Sumiko’s old bike, and Dai trying to help her reach her goal. I could feel the telltale signs of hunger begin to nibble inside of me – much like the monster. But I don’t feel as poisonous and disgusting.

“I don’t know how to balance.” The little brat whines. I just continue to watch from my spot of safety as Dai begins to coax her through the steps once again. She nods her head and they try again but then she begins shrieking and Dai’s hands are back on the bike, steadying her so she doesn’t do a face-plant into the dirt path of the park.

“Gee, this would be so much easier if we had someone helping us, Sebastian!” Dai yells the last part at me, shooting me an icy glare. I roll my eyes and get up, wiping stains off of the seat of my jeans. I saunter down to where they were waiting for me. Skye had yanked her beanie back on to cover her newly-shaved head.

Wordlessly, I grabbed the bike handles, bracing myself alongside Skye as I replaced my best friend who stood back and folded his arms. Looking at us like that, it reminds me of a Power Ranger-type stance. I point this out to Skye and she barks out a melodious laugh. Dai’s glare at me just deepens and on a sudden whim, I blow him a kiss which only further amuses Skye, as unaware as she is of the possible implications. So I push Skye along, not looking back to see his reaction. Only ten seconds into wondering what the hell had just come over me, and the little brat is shrieking in my ear. No wonder he’s mega pissed.

“Look, stay calm. I won’t let you fall. You just have to move your legs.” I offer but she shakes her head. “Are you scared?” she nods. I roll my eyes. “You’re a real brat, you know. Now, do you want to cycle?”

“Y-Yes...?”

“Do you want to cycle?!” I tell her, a bit louder.

“Yes!” she says with a little less shakiness.

“Then move your legs. I’ve got you, Skye.”

“I can’t!”

“You can!” I egg her on but she shakes her head. I sigh heavily and stop pushing her.

“Sebastian?” she looks at me with wide eyes, “Sebby, I’m sorry.” I shake my head.

“It’s okay, maybe another day.”

“Sebby –”

“How come you cut off all your hair?” I interrupt, swiftly changing the subject. She stares at me for a while then looks down, carefully sliding off of the bicycle.

“It’s easier. And it’s less embarrassing and painful to have to wake up every morning and find out my head feels a little colder than it did the night before.” She shrugs casually and I look at her. She bursts out laughing.

---

“I’m going to get another job.” I say absentmindedly. I kick my feet at the grass and look up at the sky, squinting at the sun that’s still blaringly bright against its clear blue backdrop. I can see him looking at me in surprise out of the corner of my eye. He looks cuter than ever today, his hair thrown haphazardly on his head. I can tell he wants to say something but he’s holding back so I pretend I don’t notice. Pretend I don’t notice all the unsaid words, all the unspoken arguments, all the voiceless confessions.

“This is fantastic! Oh thank you Dai-kun and Sebby-kun, thank you! Wait no, arigatoo!” Skye yells from in front of us, laughing and beaming at her new, diamond-shaped kite that bleeds red into the ever-stretching expanse of great blue. She has forgotten about the failed attempt to cycle earlier on and is distracted by the new kite Dai bought her.

“Arigat-oh, Skye.” Dai calls back, an easy smile playing on his lips. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts, looking down with an embarrassed flush. I stop walking but Dai doesn’t notice and continues to saunter along. He only realizes a while later and looks back at me, annoyance on his delicate features.

“Sebastian! I’m trying to talk to you here!” he folds his arms across his chest. My stomach does a slow roll and my fingers tingle. A plane winks its way across the sky behind him, close to Skye’s red kite. I imagine it playfully batting it away. Not shredding it to pieces with its cutting edge wings – but toying with it. Here, the monster does not exist.

“Shiawase.” I call to Dai and jog to catch up with him, then passing him with a wink and a wiggle of my tongue. He stands stock-still and I laugh. It’s as if I had never danced with the monster, as if it had never taken up residence in the deepest pits of my being.

“Swings. Ice cream. Water fights.” She declares as I draw nearer, grinning widely at me. But I don’t say anything and just pick her up, much to her surprise. She lets out another ear-aching shriek but I don’t care and I spin her around. Her shriek eventually morphs into a laugh. I feel as strong as ten men.

“Clouds. Lollipops. Merry go-rounds.”

“Picnics. Puppies. Apples.”

“Trees. Roasted marshmallows. Roller coasters.” He finally catches up to us, adding more to Skye’s list of wants. I imagine him swinging, the breeze blowing through his hair and his eyes screwed shut and his skin soaking up the sun. I imagine him wet, the droplets of water glistening prettily against his caramel flesh. I imagine his strong jaw biting into the apple, a delicious crunch and then the juice sliding down his throat. I want to taste it.

“I want my ice cream to be chocolate.” She announces and her beam is brighter than the sun that shines above us.

xo, effay.