I Have Become Like the Dreams that Have Faded

A few days later, Emi died in her sleep. Hazuki overheard the workers receiving the phone call and sharing their grief with one another, as they had not gotten to see her. After she confessed to Hazuki that morning several days before, she left the park without a word and did not see her friends or old colleagues. No sympathy could be found in Hazuki’s heart as he thought of the long, full life Emi was able to live at the expense of Naoe continuing to suffer.

Something had shifted in Hazuki’s mind. Rest had never reached him, and in the days after Emi’s visit, it felt even more foreign. Nights were spent tossing and turning in cold sweats within the tent. Things like lack of ventilation and tears in his futon became more hyper present as nights offered no reprieve. Days were no better, as Hazuki’s mental state began to fray at the edges. Hazuki could not pin down exactly what he felt in the aftermath of his realization that he was the next aeon, but his very soul felt unmoored from his body.

Weeks crept by, and summer’s heat arrived in force. Glaring sun threatened to burn the leaves of trees and plants alike. Hazuki continued to volunteer and help around the park, but his thoughts were consumed with the ever-expanding mystery of Naoe. What was most confusing to Hazuki through it all was that Naoe had not yet asked him to take on the burden and release her. Visions of the terror in her eyes when she saw the roots delivering him to her in the darkness haunted Hazuki’s thoughts as he fumbled through the days that followed Emi’s revelations.

It was in this state that Hazuki arrived at the psychologist’s office one afternoon for his quarterly check-in. Beige wallpaper with calming accents greeted him as he entered the waiting room, and was welcomed by the receptionist. For the first time, Hazuki realized that the accents on the wallpaper were plum and cherry blossoms. Stylized representations of branches and flowers surrounded him. Hazuki chuckled to himself and leaned his head back against the wall. Soon, he was escorted to the back rooms for tests and evaluations.

“How are you feeling, Hazuki?” asked the doctor.

In all the months he had seen her, she had always been kind to him, so Hazuki found himself more at ease around her than with others.

“I’m okay,” he replied.

“Just okay? You seem distracted,” she answered.

Distracted was not how Hazuki would describe it, but he did feel pulled in a thousand directions and untethered from his reality. Ever since he had refilled his prescriptions, he had not been dreaming clearly. And he had not dreamt of Naoe since the nightmare. Even if he struggled to dream of her again in that state, he wanted to dream of something. At least dreams were a break from the real world.

“I…” Hazuki stopped.

Something caught in his throat, and a wave of sadness began to wash against him. Hazuki cleared his throat and tried to speak again.

“I can’t remember things well. And I don’t dream. I know that’s what the drugs are supposed to do. But I miss that. I miss who I once was,” he admitted as his voice trembled.

The feelings of sadness and confusion that were slamming against him like storm waves against rock were not specifically because of the lack of dreams or memories. Confusion around the entirety of his existence, of his relationship with Naoe, of who he was, and what he was supposed to do, and the thought of being designated as the one to inherit a mysterious spiritual mantle all crashed together in his thoughts. It was too much, but he wanted to face them.

Tears ran down his cheek as he tried to explain himself, but the words would not come.

“You are an adult now, Hazuki. You are free to do what you wish with your treatments and medications. You are not forced to do any of this anymore if you so wish,” she answered.

Hazuki nodded and thought it over.

“I don’t want to lose my mind, though. I’ve been on them for so long, I don’t know what it’s like to exist without them.”

“We can help with that. If you truly want this, we can start tapering your dosage. But you have to make that choice,” she said in a calm tone.

Hazuki was not used to choice. So much of life had been without his choice, and as he sat there contemplating his answer, he realized that he did have a hint of hesitation about being the next aeon. It had not been his choice. It was just another aspect of his existence that destiny, spirits, or some other unseen force had decided would be his fate. Sensing that he was once again being put into a tragic scenario without consent or participation started to make his skin crawl. He would agree to be the next aeon in a heartbeat if it meant releasing Naoe from her suffering, but a part of him would be consumed with rage that it was not something he had a choice in becoming.

Suddenly, he felt a very slight bit of understanding for Emi’s decision. He disagreed, but understood. Naoe seemed to have never wanted this for anyone else if she had never given the mantle up to another, so he was not mad at her in any capacity. Sitting there in that peaceful room, Hazuki realized he was mad at the universe. If there was a god or spirit to blame for the misfortune of his life and the suffering of all the people he knew, even the ones he didn’t know, Hazuki would break their jaw right then and there if he could.

“Hazuki?” asked the doctor, pulling him back to reality.

He wiped his eyes.

“Sorry. I’m just… so angry. All the time,” he whispered.

She nodded, and light reflected off her glasses as she handed him a cloth to wipe his face.

“I… I want to stop. I want to do what you said. Taper my dosage with the intention of getting off of my meds,” said Hazuki as he made up his mind.

The doctor nodded in acceptance and was soon drafting up paperwork for his case file. Plans were made and Hazuki said a prayer to himself that clarity and rest would eventually return to his tattered mind. And maybe, just maybe, he could dream of Naoe again.

That night, after taking only two-thirds of his usual medication dosage, Hazuki lay beneath Naoe’s tree alone. It was the first time he had done that in some time. Gone were the blossoms, and now only leaves and incoming plums. He dared not eat one without Naoe there to join. Watching the clouds above pass by behind the filter of leaves and fruit, Hazuki’s thoughts became fully consumed by her.

She was out there somewhere. In a realm where even he could not see her anymore except in dreams. Hazuki knew she was in pain, and knew he held the key to release her from the prison she had been living in for hundreds of years. What that entailed, what it would cost, how it could be done, and what it meant for him, all of those details were things he did not yet know. He wasn’t sure Naoe knew after all this time. Both of them existed in a state where much of their existence was a mystery even to them.

It would be at least seven months before Naoe returned. That chasm of time seemed longer than it once had. Waiting around doing nothing didn’t seem like the best use of that time, but in a moment of emotional maturity, Hazuki realized he did not want to set out to solve all of Naoe’s mysteries without her. It was her life and story, and she deserved to find out for herself. They knew she could leave the park, but the flower petals only gave them so much time. They needed a way to give themselves enough time to explore and find answers.

Hazuki’s mind raced as he tried to come up with a solution. Watching the leaves of Naoe’s tree drift in the evening breeze calmed him enough to focus. There had to be a way to get more time. A way to take the tree with them.

“Or, at least, at part of the tree…” Hazuki said out loud.

Then it came to him. It was far-fetched, and he had only done something similar years ago in school. Park employees probably wouldn’t like it, so he wasn’t sure he could ask for their help. Secrecy would make it harder, but he figured it was best to start that way and ask for forgiveness if caught. Just thinking about its implications and complexities caused Hazuki’s heart to beat faster. He rolled over and slowly stood to face Naoe’s tree.

“I have an idea, Naoe,” Hazuki whispered as his fingers glided along the bark of her trunk.

“Propagation...”