Silver Linings

Ichiro sat in the chair at the end of the hallway next to Izumi’s room.

He had patiently waited for the opportunity to be by her side again. However, the doctors were still conducting a series of tests on her to see how they should proceed on her medication schedule and therapies. Even her parents had been asked to vacate the room, allowing the tests to proceed without interruption. With a temporary respite from their worries about her condition, they had hurried home to fetch fresh changes of underwear for her.

The passage of time seemed agonizingly slow for Ichiro as he awaited permission to reenter Izumi's room. Despite the excruciating delay, a sense of joy in his heart kept him from dwelling on it. A gentle smile adorned his face as he leaned forward, anticipating the door's eventual reopening.

Several hours had elapsed since the doctors had restricted access to the room. Yet, Ichiro continued to wait patiently for his turn. The minutes dragged on relentlessly. He reclined his head in the chair and gazed up at the window above him. Sunlight pierced through the dissipating clouds as the storm receded.

Ichiro let out a soft chuckle as he reminisced about the day they had first crossed paths. Would their circumstances be different if the rain hadn't been falling that day? For the first time in his life, he found himself grateful for getting caught in the rain.

As he observed the clouds slowly drifting toward the horizon, he sensed his phone vibrating in his pocket. Puzzlement washed over him as he retrieved the device. His heart sank slightly when he saw the caller's identity.

“Hello, Mom?” he answered swiftly, his curiosity piqued by his mother's unexpected call.

“Thank goodness!” she exhaled in relief upon hearing his voice. “I was worried you might not pick up.”

“What's the matter?” he inquired, struggling to grasp the urgency behind her call. As he began to worry about the nature of this call, he noticed something had slipped out of his pocket when he retrieved his phone. A folded sheet of paper lay on the ground. Recognizing it, he swiftly bent down to pick it up.

Amidst the background noise, a voice—clearly agitated—rose in volume, “We should be the ones asking you that!” His father's voice sounded distant yet forceful enough that Ichiro had to move the phone away from his ear to protect it from the intensity.

“Calm down, dear,” his mother attempted to pacify his father's palpable anger. “We received a call from your school. They mentioned you were involved in a fight. Is this true?”

“Not really,” he responded truthfully. Indeed, he hadn't initiated any fight; he had merely been the target of aggression twice. He refrained from throwing any punches, although the urge had been strong. So, all in all, he wasn't being dishonest.

Right as he answered, another group of nurses entered Izumi’s room. Their urgent yet composed voices didn't raise concern in Ichiro.

“What was all that noise?” his mother asked, perturbed by the sudden commotion around him. “Where are you now?”

“Oh, I am at the hospital,” Ichiro replied without considering the potential implications of his words.

“What!?” he heard both of his parents exclaim, prompting him to move the phone away from his ear once more. “So you were in a fight!” His mother continued to scold him, her voice now the sole source of beratement. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” he attempted to allay his parents' worries with a straightforward explanation. Absentmindedly, he unfolded the paper and scanned the list on it, a faint smile gracing his lips. “Nakagawa was in the hospital, and I was just checking—”

Apparently, that was the wrong approach to assuage his parents' concerns, as his mother swiftly interjected. “Okay, that’s fine, but what does this have to do with you being in a fight?”

“Nothing,” he attempted to steer the conversation back on track, contending with his parents. “I wasn’t in a fight. Takuya hit me, but it was over something trivial. I didn’t hit anyone.”

“Are you sure?” his mother inquired, seeking to clarify the facts. “Your teachers seemed to think you were at the center of the altercation. And that there might be consequences. Even the possibility of not graduating.”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Ichiro attempted to mollify her concerns, “I wasn’t in a fight, and we're allowed to leave the school grounds. So, when I heard Nakagawa was in the hospital, I went to vis—”

“Am I hearing that you're seeing that girl again!?”

It wasn't his mother's voice on the other end now.

“Yes, sir?” his tone hardened as his father's questioning became more direct. He bit his lip, kicking himself for faltering in front of his father like this again.

“I thought we talked about this, son,” his father sighed as he began his reproach. “I'll make it clear now. You're better off not being with her. She'll only drag you down. You have your future to consider. What do I always tell you?”

Hearing his father's words, Ichiro felt his teeth start to grind together. His hand clenched into a fist, brimming with anger. However, the sound of paper crinkling caused him to momentarily suppress his ire.

Looking down, he noticed the list that Izumi had written, with just one major item remaining unchecked. At that moment, he reached a decision.

“Yes,” he stood up as he replied to his father, determination in his voice, “Keep my goals in focus and never waver from them.”

“Very good, son, now—” His father's voice was tinged with pride, but Ichiro cut him off.

“And now, I am going to take the necessary steps to turn them into reality. Thank you, Father.”

Although his father seemed to begin asking a question, Ichiro moved the phone away from his ear, ending the call. Glancing once more at the list in his hand, he steeled his resolve.

His timing was perfect. Just after ending the call, Izumi's parents came into view, rounding the corner towards where Ichiro was standing. Inhaling deeply, he braced himself for what he was about to do. With determined steps, he walked towards them.

As he approached, Izumi's father shot him an annoyed look and sighed, “You’re still here? I thought you would have gone home by now.”

Ignoring the jab, Ichiro remained silent, locking eyes with her father.

Letting out another frustrated sigh, Izumi's father's irritation became more pronounced. “What do you want?”

Suddenly, Ichiro bowed deeply, causing both of her parents to take a step back, perplexed by his actions. Before they could voice their confusion, Ichiro's arms shot out towards them. In his hands was a stack of papers, bound with a wide black clip. The cover had been removed, so it was easier for them to read the first page.

Furrowing his brows, her father regarded Ichiro with a stern glare before accepting the papers from him. Ichiro maintained his bow as both parents examined its contents together. Izumi's father put on his glasses to read it more clearly, his expression becoming increasingly puzzled.

Skimming the papers, he quickly recognized his daughter's handwriting. His confusion deepened as he noticed the final page was quite different from the others. It was a page from a different stock, crumpled along the edges and covered in words that had been mostly crossed off.

“What is this?” His tone was devoid of emotion, yet it carried an unmistakable demand for an explanation.

“It’s a manuscript written by your daughter.” Ichiro answered without straightening up, “And a list of things she wants to do in order to become a better writer.”

“And why do you have it?” Her father lowered the stack, fixing Ichiro with an intense glare. While he awaited an answer, his wife took the sheets from his hand, examining them herself.

“I asked her to write them down,” Ichiro responded, maintaining his posture as he spoke. “I wanted to know her goals and what was needed to achieve them.”

Growing increasingly frustrated, her father raised a hand to his temple, trying to ward off a burgeoning headache. “Why are you showing this to us now?”

“As you can see, there is one goal left unfinished.”

“What are you trying to imply?”

“Please, sir, ma’am.” Ichiro's bow deepened even further at that moment, as if he were on the verge of folding in half. “I want to turn your daughter's dreams into reality. Please grant me the honor of marrying her.”

“What are you—” Her father began to question, but was abruptly interrupted by Ichiro's swift return to an upright stance.

“I am resolute in pursuing my objectives. I am prepared to accomplish them by any means necessary. And my goal now is your daughter's happiness. This is the path I've chosen to achieve it. So, I beseech you once more.” He bowed again, just as profoundly as before. “May I have your permission to marry your daughter?”

The two parents stared at the unyielding young man before them. They anticipated him to abandon the act and stand upright again. Yet, he remained steadfast and determined. Her father glanced at his wife, who responded with a smile and an eye-roll. It seemed that she had an inkling of what that meant. Her husband exchanged glances with her a few times before letting out a defeated sigh.

Finally, he relented.