I’ve Been Much Better But Here’s To Healing

Sunrises were grey-blue and swift. Every time Shuhei awoke, his room was bathed in a cold ambience that was equal parts peaceful and stale. There were only twenty rooms in total within the facility, and it seemed like most were occupied. But since his arrival, Shuhei was always the first patient to wake. Beyond the murmurs of workers and clinicians preparing for the day, the grounds stayed quiet in regards to human voices. But birds had all chosen the woods as their wintry migration destination, so every dawn was announced by a choir of chirps and caws that echoed through the barren tree trunks.

Night time snowfall anointed the facility and surrounding slopes with powdery white again. Shuhei rose from his bed and slid into his slippers as he prepared to wander around the facility for his morning coffee. Mercifully, the coffee was actually quite pleasant. A little over-roasted for his taste, but good nonetheless.

Clasping the door handle caused the tendons in his wrist to flex and rise, sending a pump of awareness into the shallow wound that ran horizontally across his lower arm. His bandages were still fresh from the recent change, so there was no concern about treating the cut today. For now, he didn’t have concerns for anything.

Today would be a day of group chores followed by their preferred personal engagement activities. Shuhei had been here for ten days, and this was his third cycle. By now he was settling into a routine. Light doses of lithium were keeping his mood at a neutral coasting sensation. He had asked for it himself when he first arrived in a fit of terror.

In fact, he had done all of this himself. There was no one looking out for him and cheering him on as he began treatment. If anything, there were a handful of people who were unhappy with him being here.

Regardless, this facility was going to be his home for the foreseeable future. Something had unraveled in his mind in the months that led to this point, and he had come face to face with entering oblivion, but for now he had decided he wanted to stay.

For now, merely staying was enough. Staying still. Staying here. Staying alive. Everything else was just additional joy.

As Shuhei meandered through the softly-lit hallway, he observed all the details of the space like usual.

That ceiling tile was slightly raised compared to its neighbors. The paint in the baseboards was uneven in that corner. The blue and grey abstract painting on the wall reminded him of the sea.

Structure was consistent and slow paced. Shuhei had chosen this location because he wanted to get away from Tokyo and also because of its focus on nature. Nikki’s grand landscape had always appealed to him when he was trapped in the urban density of Tokyo, but he’d never actually made it out here. At least he could check that box off his list.

To Shuhei’s surprise, his isolation was interrupted that morning. Along with the workers and aides, Shuhei found the young woman who had recently arrived was also sitting in a chair near the window.

He had seen her in the hall two days before that, and she had been at the communal dinner the night before. After spending his first several days being the youngest person in the facility, it was somewhat nice to know another person close to his age was going through a similar journey. Though Shuhei felt bad that this young woman was bad off enough to warrant a “secret vacation” to the mountains like him, he selfishly appreciated the abstract comradery.

She didn’t move when he entered the room. From his angle, Shuhei could see her lips were slightly parted in thought. Her hair was down and draped over her shoulders like a curtain of protection to keep others from engaging. It was thick and long, deep auburn and healthy. Its ends rested on her chest, which was slowly rising and falling beneath her pajama top.

Though he didn’t intentionally notice, Shuhei could help but note that her breasts were above average for someone her size. It was just a blip of a thought, but it was there. There was no immediate fascination or desirous gaze, simply an analytical view of features that might be worth noting. Noticing details like that, as well as the details of spaces and vibes, were simply part of the cold, calculating trade skills he had learned in his job.

Being able to quickly notice the most subtle of details and adapt his plan to those intricacies were what made him so good at what he did. It could be as simple as an elongated inhale, or thumbs fidgeting in crossed hands, or quick glances. It didn’t matter, he noticed them all.

Being as early as it was, there was no expectation for Shuhei to engage with his fellow patient. So instead, he softly drifted by her without her even acknowledging him, or him acknowledging her.

Her hands were clasping a simple blue mug.

She’d always like the smell of coffee. In the absence of sound, her other senses had become more sacred. Sitting there observing the sunrise’s light breaking through the trees allow Kaho to enjoy her first cup for the day. The ceramic was warm in her palms. Scents of medium roast black coffee with hints of orange drifted into her nose and hung on her tongue.

The chair was comfortable enough.

Shadows on the wall told her she wasn’t alone but she didn’t want to engage with whoever was also seeking caffeine and a good view.

She was young. Certainly his age, but maybe even younger. There was a strange distance in her body language, even for someone who was staying in a treatment center. The aides and workers shuffled by with bows and quiet greetings.

Shuhei finished pouring his cup and approached the seat farthest from the girl. Not only did he not want any social engagement this early in the morning, she may not have as well, and he wanted to respect that. After all, he was still Japanese.

Sitting into the chair brought him into Kaho’d peripheral vision, causing her to subtly tilt her head to see who had joined her solitude.

It was that pensive young man from the first day. His hair was messy from sleep and his eyes were still puffy. Bandages still covered his left wrist and forearm. As he sat, his eyes stayed ahead on the tree line. Stolen glances let Kaho get a slightly better view of his face.

His brow was statuesque and borderline harsh, hanging steep over narrowed, cold eyes. A high bridged nose sloped out from his unkempt hair and led to two full, closed lips. He was as handsome as he had seemed on that first glance. And tall. At least two heads taller than Kaho, who was relatively average height.

“Tired wolf,” Kaho thought to herself.

Shuhei had noticed her glancing at him, but he didn’t mind. Considering he’d already snuck his own perceptions in as he was getting his coffee, it was only fair for her to be allowed to observe him as he entered her proximity. And she had done her best to be sneaky. But her large almond eyes were hard to hide against her milk-colored skin. Shuhei smirked to himself when he felt the glances finish.

Snow began to fall once more as the sun reached the top of the trees.

Raising his cup to his lips, Shuhei laughed softly as images of adorable iizuna appeared in his mind. Her small white body and large eyes reminded him of those.

Morning routines eventually began, with all patients cooking and eating together. Shuhei and Kaho never engaged with one another. He was sent to the kitchen to cook and she was given the introductory task of setting the tables.

After eating, everyone cleaned the common area and handled any necessary chores like laundry. It was like this every morning. Bells sounded like schoolhouses from youth, signaling the end of that scheduled event. Routine was intentional. Routine was sacred.

When the last bell sounded, announcing it was time to go to designated personal activities, Shuhei noticed the girl being approached by an aide, who came at her from her front and stood directly in front of her gaze as she started to speak. At that moment, he thought nothing of it.

Kaho read lips well enough, and didn’t want to draw attention to herself yet with sign language. So she watched the aide’s lips curve and part as she briefly summarized that it was time for personal activities.

Being in a place against her will had not made Kaho overly excited to pick out a personal activity from the offering list. Everything was centered on stillness and patience. Mindfulness was not of interest at the moment, so meditations and reflective writing were off. It was too cold to go walking, so nature was off the list. She’d taken plenty of cooking classes in her day so that wasn’t of interest.

But one opening did jump out to her. It was something she was aware of but had never done. And ever since her arrival, it had caught her eye every day when she walked the halls and saw the intricate displays.

Kaho took out her phone and typed a note which was then discretely presented to the aide.

“I’d like to do ikebana, please. If there is still space.”

Her aide nodded and bowed, then began to lead her to the designated room.

It surprised Kaho that she felt a legitimate peak of interest at this class. Up till now, she had never even gardened or had a house plant. Flowers were foreign to her. But she lived their scents and loved the feeling of petals gliding along her fingertips in the spring.

They reached their destination and the aide stepped aside. Kaho entered the room to see that only several other patients were already seated at a small set of tables. Every seat was taken, save for one at the end. Beside it, closest to the edge, was the handsome young man, who looked up from his haze when he heard the door open.

Once more, their eyes met for the briefest moment. He smiled another small smirk that was barely a flash. To her modest surprise, Kaho returned the expression. She inhaled and made her way to the seat beside him.