Aika - The Prodigal Daughter

Hospitals have their own gravity.

The moment I stepped into my father’s room, I felt it. That strange, suffocating mix of hope and helplessness, the sterile quiet that somehow screams louder than a storm. My father laid there in the midst of it all, still as winter.

Wires. Monitors. Drips. Soft beeping that reminded me he was still here, still fighting, still trying. I sat on the chair beside him. Held his hand gently, afraid to hurt him.

‘Hey, Papa…’ I whispered.

His chest rose slowly. No reaction.

‘I’m… I’m okay. I’m safe. I swear.’

Not entirely a lie. But something I wanted him to believe. Maybe, me too.

I told him about Izu. About the café. About the kindness of old people who couldn’t remember my name so they simply called me “little one”.

I told him about the library. The books. The cats. Caleb, my unusual friend. I talked enough for both of us.

‘I even went to church,’ I said softly.

If he could hear me, he definitely choked in shock.

‘I know. I know. Your daughter, the stubborn one.’

I held back tears as I spoke.

‘I’m trying to find something good. Something that makes sense.’

I rested my forehead on the back of his hand.

‘Please… don’t go. Not yet. I’m not ready.’

The only answer was the steady rhythm of the heart monitor.

*****

Two weeks blurred.

Izu felt like a memory. The café. The cats. Even coffee smelled different when you were waiting for someone you loved to wake up.

Miho-san sent texts. The choir leader sent prayers. Caleb didn’t text, didn’t call. He didn’t intrude. And that was fine. However, a small part of me existed. A part that I didn’t want to acknowledge. A part that was kept expecting him to reach out to me.

*****

I was returning from the vending machine when I saw him standing in the hallway. Hair a little messy. Cardigan softening the edges of his tall frame. A warm presence in a cold place. He turned when he sensed me.

‘Aika,’ he breathed, relief flooding his face. ‘Thank God.’

My lips parted in shock. ‘What… are you doing here?’

‘I was assigned to this region last week,’ he said. ‘Outreach visits. I didn’t know which hospital until today.’

His eyes searched mine.

‘You disappeared,’ he said simply. ‘People were worried.’

‘I’m fine.’

He raised one brow gently, the way he always did when he didn’t believe me.

‘No,’ he said softly. ‘You’re hurting.’

Instead of pushing, instead of asking questions, instead of offering blind optimism, he asked kindly. ‘Can I pray with you?’

*****

We went to my father’s room. Caleb stood beside me carefully, respectfully, leaving enough space so I wouldn’t feel trapped, like he always did. He looked at my father, then bowed his head.

‘Father…’ his voice cracked slightly, ‘please place Your hands on this man’s heart. Bring peace to his pain. Strength to his body. Comfort to his daughter.’

My eyes blurred.

‘And if it’s Your will,’ he added, ‘let him respond to her. Even just once. To let her know he hears her.’

I squeezed my father’s hand without thinking. Caleb placed his hand on top of ours as he continued praying in silence.

‘Please,’ I whispered. ‘Please…’

Other than my laboured breathing, the room stayed still.

‘I shouldn’t have ran away for so long. Now, I couldn’t take back the time lost that I should have given to my family.’

Caleb looked at me like he wished he could take away all of my worries. I conveyed through my eyes in response that he’s done enough.

In the middle of our speechless communication, my father’s fingers twitched. Not a muscle spasm that I’ve seen happen a few times. This one was a deliberate, tiny, unmistakable squeeze.

Caleb’s head snapped. He was just as surprised as me.

My breath ripped out of me. ‘Papa?!’

‘Aika! He heard you.’

My heart burst. I choked on a sob I couldn’t stop.

‘Who? God or my father?’

‘Both.’

I turned to him, and before I knew what I was doing, before I could think, before trauma rebuilt its walls, I threw my arms around him. Caleb hugged me back instantly. His arms wrapped around me with such warmth and safety I almost collapsed.

‘We prayed,’ he said with shaky voice. ‘And he answered. Aika, your father, he’s fighting.’

I cried into his shoulder. Ugly, grateful sobs. He remained silent as he held me securely. He was like a shelter I didn’t know I needed.

So, this is how it feels like to be hugged by someone who wants to protect you. Someone without any ulterior motives… Ulterior motives…

The past slammed back into me. One heartbeat I was leaning into him, allowing him to hug all of the worries away, the next, memory struck me like lightning.

A man’s arms around me. All over me. Not gentle. Not good. Just let it happen. Just close your eyes. Just wait for everything to finish. You’d get your job back eventually.

A different place. A different life. A nightmare I thought I’d buried.

No it isn’t. “Once a whore, always a whore”, as they told me. Even if I get my idol position back, I’d have to keep doing this on the side, forever. Even if I ran away, I was always going to be someone’s used up toy…

I gasped for air as if I was underwater. I pulled back like I’d been burned. Caleb’s expression softened instantly. I was afraid he’d be offended that I pushed him off of me like that, when I was the one who threw myself at him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to—‘

‘No! No, it’s not that I didn’t appreciate it. I just…‘ My breath shook uncontrollably. ‘I haven’t hugged anyone in years.’

His eyes filled with something I couldn’t read. It wasn’t pity.

‘Aika,’ he whispered, ‘you never have to explain yourself. Not to me.’

‘I’ll be here when you are ready to talk.’

Just a my vision started to blur once more, the door burst open.

‘Aika-chan! We rushed as soon as we heard!’

My father’s siblings, cousins, neighbors, everyone flooded the room. I stumbled back automatically. Caleb stepped aside, offering respectful bows as the family greeted him.

‘Who’s this young man?’ someone asked.

‘A priest, duh?’ another added sarcastically. ‘Can’t you see the bible and rosary?’

‘Very handsome priest,’ someone else addded.

Caleb flushed scarlet.

He answered every question with calm kindness. Soothed the panicking relatives. Spoke to my sleeping father as if they’d known each other for years. Explained the twitch wasn’t false hope. That it was God answering our prayers, then and there.

He was steady and reassuring. A pillar the entire room leaned on. And the whole time, he kept glancing at me. Quietly checking if I was alright.

I returned to my father’s bedside, taking his hand again. His fingers closed around mine. Stronger this time. A sob escaped my chest. Caleb saw it too. The room was full but we shared a warm smile, just between us.

For a moment there, I let myself believe I wasn’t alone. That I deserved better than I was putting myself through.