And Then I Woke Up

Rain pattered on the ground, tent, and leaves with steady strikes as the late spring storms rolled through Mie. Inabe City’s plum grove was now fully green as the blossoms had vanished to be replaced by leaves and incoming plum crops. Hazuki was walking through the grove, now fully obsessed with monitoring not only Naoe’s tree but every tree in the grove.

Not even refilled prescriptions of antipsychotics could put his mind at ease. His nightmare of her straining and being drained by dying roots had led him to fear that things in the park were not as peaceful as they seemed. In the weeks that followed, he had begun to track every single tree to look for signs of silver leaf, root rot, bacterial canker, and any other illness that might be causing the ecosystem pain.

Every time he observed a tree, the sound of Naoe whimpering in pained exhaustion amid snapping roots echoed in his mind. His efforts had not gone unnoticed. Park employees and volunteers saw him harmlessly pondering the thousands of trees on his own and whispered to themselves how to best approach him in recruitment. So it naturally fell to the one man who had an established rapport with Hazuki.

Falling torrents of rain had given way to steady, tolerable showers that afternoon. Hazuki was bundled in a raincoat but still fully immersed in his duties. So much so that he did not immediately notice the employee approaching him with another park staff member.

“At least it stopped pouring!” said the employee to Hazuki once he was close.

Hazuki flinched into reality and hid his face instinctually once more.

“Sorry. Sorry, I’ll leave. I’m sorry. I wasn’t harming anything. I’m sorry,” he apologized.

The employee didn’t know how to respond at first and paused at a safe distance with his hands raised.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re not in trouble. We spoke a few weeks ago. And we met before that,” the employee replied slowly.

Hazuki was hesitant. A person wearing a lanyard was usually not there to help him.

“My name is Matsumoto. I’m the lead arborist here,” said the employee.

Even though Hazuki’s body struggled to unwind from its flight response, Hazuki could sense a gentleness from the man. Slowly, Hazuki lowered his hands. Chemicals from his medication floated through his body and calmed his nerves as he dulled the sensation of fear that had risen in the surprise greeting. The man seemed to be waiting for Hazuki to speak and offer his name, but Hazuki merely stood there silently. After a pause, the man accepted and moved forward.

“So, what are you looking for exactly?’ asked the man named Matsumoto.

“Blemishes. Harm. Rot,” was all Hazuki replied.

To his surprise, Matsumoto squinted his eyes in a manner that implied he knew something Hazuki didn’t. It was not so subtle that Hazuki missed it, so he immediately followed up to address the hint.

“Is there something wrong with the trees?” asked Hazuki.

“No… no nothing with the trees,” said Matsumoto.

“What then?” pressed Hazuki.

Matsumoto gathered his thoughts as though weighing whether to tell Hazuki the truth or not. After a moment, he conceded.

“It’s not the trees. It’s the soil. It is degrading. Has been for years…” he answered.

The words surprised Hazuki. He had mistakenly only been looking at the trees, and not at the earth beneath his feet. Soil degradation was something he was only moderately familiar with. By the time it had arrived in his studies, his life had derailed. So he was forced to continue the conversation to learn more.

“For the whole park?” asked Hazuki.

Matsumoto nodded.

“We’ve tried everything. It’s been going on for longer than I’ve been here. We’ve tried planting cover crops, mulching, contour farming, and agroforestry, all of it. I’ve reached out to rice farmers who have struggled with it before. Everything we try, it’s not enough. It’s like the earth is too tired.”

Those words triggered an echo of Naoe’s pain within Hazuki’s mind. Memories of her in exhausted agony flooded his brain, and suddenly it was as though he was not fully standing in the real world or the dream world. Instead, he was drifting in a damp, gray realm where reality and hallucination bled together in front of his eyes. Struggling to refocus, Hazuki shook his head and fully faced Matsumoto.

“What will happen to the trees?” he asked as he glanced towards Naoe’s tree.

Matsumoto grimaced and shook his head and defeat.

“They won’t make it. The soil will give out. Unless we find some sort of effective regenerative process, they likely won’t survive beyond the next few years…” answered Matsumoto.

Dread permeated Hazuki’s fragile mind. Something about his visions of Naoe draining away in his dreams seemed linked to the present crisis he had just learned of in reality. Naoe’s connection may not have just been to her tree, but he didn’t know how to explain that or how to fix that. All he could do was nod and let his rushing thoughts take over his focus. As he returned to his tree patrol, Matsumoto bowed, then offered one final olive branch.

“If you ever want to join us, we host volunteers every week. We have training sessions, free lunch, and are all very kind. You are always welcome,” he said.

Hazuki thought it over and remembered Naoe’s encouragement to speak to more people.

“Can I just tend to the trees?” he asked.

“Certainly!” said Matsumoto.

Thus, the seed of outreach was planted by Matsomoto, and in the coming weeks, Hazuki slowly opened up to the idea of engaging with other humans again. If nothing else, Matsumoto’s revelation about the degradation was enough to spur Hazuki into accepting whatever resources were available to look into the connection between the struggling soil and Naoe’s dream state.

Soon, Hazuki was walking the grounds in the early morning with Matsumoto. Thankfully, Matsumoto quickly accepted that Hazuki was a quiet sort of collaborator, so the two of them slowly made their way through the park, collecting samples, pruning, staking, and cataloging.

Through these walks and through repeatedly hearing Matsumoto’s impassioned volunteer training sessions, Hazuki came to learn more and more about the park. The plum grove held over 4,000 plum trees with over 100 varieties. Matsumoto had been there for five years. Beyond the plum grove, the park also had golfing, dining options, and seasonal flowers such as peonies and tulips. The park was committed to sustainability efforts, which was evident through its use of eco-friendly fertilizers and recycled fuels. Most interesting to Hazuki was the fact that the park itself was founded in 1990 and was a collaboration effort of government initiatives and volunteer efforts.

The park only being slightly more than a generation old seemed surprising to Hazuki. Naoe had said she was several hundred years old. The more Hazuki thought of Naoe's tree, the more confused he became. He hated himself for taking so long to start seeking answers to her complexity and mystery, but at least now he was starting to fully consider the story of the girl at the plum tree.

With the help of Matsumoto’s knowledge, Hazuki confirmed that most plum trees generally lived for several decades, and in rare cases, up to potentially fifty years. Hearing that brought Hazuki more questions than answers.

“Does the park catalog every tree?” he asked Matsumoto one day as they walked.

“Yes. We keep thorough records of every tree here,” Matsumoto replied.

“Could I… Could I see a record for a specific tree?” Hazuki asked.

“Sure,” replied Matsumoto, who seemed more intrigued than confused.

That afternoon, Matsumoto joined Hazuki at Naoe’s tree, binder in hand. Matsumoto began to flip through the binder while reading aloud and pointing to different trees.

“Let’s see. Zone eleven. Sector Seventeen. Shirobai. Let’s see. There’s 4-A. There’s 4-B. There’s C,D, E, F, G, H, I J, K, L, M aaaaaaand…”

He paused.

“Huh,” he huffed.

“What?” asked Hazuki as a creeping sensation fluttered in his bad leg.

“We… we don’t have a record for this tree?” admitted Matsumoto in confusion.

It should not have surprised and disappointed Hazuki as much as it did, but Matsumoto was right. After a few more binder audits, Matsumoto gave up on the files at hand and took Hazuki back to the main office, now fully invested in finding more information. Soon, the two of them had been joined by the park director and the lead horticulturist.

“That’s so bizarre. I swear we can never keep that tree tracked properly,” laughed the park director.

“What do you mean?” asked Hazuki.

“I’ve been here since the park opened. I remember that tree from the beginning. It was actually here before we were. We planted around it. We had no way to date it properly since it was already fully grown,” said the director.

“If that’s the case, it’s got to be at least forty years old!” said Matsumoto.

“Likely,” agreed the horticulturist.

“We even had a caretaker that was extremely attached to that tree. I’m surprised she didn’t have a file on it,” said the park director.

“Just that tree?” asked Hazuki as his heart began to beat faster and the tingling in his leg grew stronger.

“Yep. The caretaker’s name was Emi. She worked here for over a decade. And she checked on that tree every day. I swear sometimes it seemed like she would talk to the tree,” said the director with a thoughtful grin.

Even though the director was grinning, her words pierced into Hazuki’s thoughts. He could not help but imagine that maybe she was not talking to just the tree all those years ago. Fleeting flashes of hope sparked in his heart. Maybe there was someone else out there who would know as much as he did.

“What happened to her?” he asked.

“One day she just up and decided to retire. She was still relatively young, I’d thought she’d have worked at least another five years. But she came in one day, told us she was leaving. And after she left, she never returned,” said the park director in a slightly more somber tone.

“What do you say we call her?” asked the horticulturist.

“I’ve still got her landline in my contact book. I’d love to see how old Emi is doing. It’s been too long!” he said as he smacked his knee with a chuckle.

Before Hazuki or the park director could fully react, the old man had his cell phone out and was calling his long-missed colleague. As the phone rang, Hazuki felt the tingle in his leg spread through the entirety of his being as he allowed himself to hope that he might be making a connection to someone who could help him find more information about Naoe’s past and who she truly was.