Help Me Forget

“Mom, I made you some porridge, so please try to eat it.” Teenage Midoriko set a tray next to her mother’s futon. “You’re not supposed to take your medication on an empty stomach.”

“Midoriko, you don’t have to fuss over me like this,” she said, as Midoriko helped her sit up.

“Of course I do. We only have each other.”

Midoriko never knew her father, and her mother had no family left. It was always just the two of them scraping by together in a one-room apartment.

“I have to go to my part-time job now, Mom, but please call me if there’s an emergency. My manager is very understanding,” Midoriko said, putting on her jacket and shoes.

When her mother’s illness rendered her disabled and unable to work, Midoriko took on various part-time jobs to make ends meet.

“Midoriko,” her mother called out softly. Midoriko stopped in the entryway to listen. “Just remember that you don’t have to work so hard for my sake. I gladly accept this as my punishment from God.”

“...I’ll be back later,” mumbled Midoriko as she opened the creaky, rusty door to leave.

She had always been sickly for as long as Midoriko could remember, but when her mother’s illness became more serious, she began saying those kinds of things. Midoriko learned to just tune it out—she couldn’t talk sense into her mother if she genuinely believed it.

Midoriko’s mother, Suwa Mikoto, had heart disease according to doctors. While the severity of it at her relatively young age seemed strange to the doctors, it was attributed to a previously undiagnosed congenital condition. However, she always told Midoriko that it was because she’d been cursed as divine punishment for some untold sin.

Her mother was a former shrine maiden who grew up at a Shinto shrine complex in Gifu prefecture. One night, when Midoriko was a baby, a fire broke out and raged uncontrollably until the entire complex was consumed by the flames. She and her mother were the only survivors.

Every day, Mikoto would dedicate time to praying for forgiveness at their family altar. All throughout Midoriko’s childhood, she would have frequent nightmares that caused her to scream and thrash in her sleep, to the point where Midoriko found herself comforting her mother more often than the other way around. Mikoto blamed herself for the devastating fire that took nearly everything from her.

When Midoriko was an adult, she learned that this was something called ‘survivor’s guilt.’

***

“Mom! I made it into my first-choice University!” Midoriko hugged her mother and sobbed as she delivered the good news.

“Isn’t that wonderful? Why do you seem so sad?” Mikoto patted her daughter’s head.

“Because…I don’t think I should go…” she choked out.

“But you have to,” her mother pleaded. “You worked so hard for it. I want you to go.”

“What if I don’t get any scholarships? How will I pay for everything?”

“Midoriko, these things always have a way of working themselves out.”

“You’re right, Mom,” Midoriko said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’ll just have to apply for loans and take on another part-time job. Then I’ll be able to pay for school and support us.”

She put on a strong face for her mother, but it wasn’t just the cost of school that was troubling her. Since her second year of high school, her mother’s condition had progressively worsened.

Her mother was stuck in bed most days, barely able to sit up. Without constant care, her fingers and toes would turn blue. Midoriko monitored her medication regimen as well as helped to feed and bathe her.

Midoriko was used to juggling school and work with caretaking, but she nearly dropped out of high school several times because of it. How would she be able to balance all of that as a university student?

“You should go celebrate with your friends,” suggested Mikoto. She smiled gently.

“Mom, what are you talking about? I don’t have any friends,” Midoriko said, hugging her mother tightly.

“...Is it because of me?” her mother asked softly.

“No…It’s my choice…”

Since elementary school, Midoriko had a hard time making friends. Her curse detection abilities got her labeled as creepy, and people ran with it, making up all sorts of rumors about her supernatural abilities.

By middle school, she’d given up on trying to make friends. By high school, working part-time ensured she’d never be able to form close friendships with her classmates. So it was extra shocking that on the day of her graduation, Midoriko’s classmates invited her out to karaoke.

“Um…Mom? Is it okay if I go out to karaoke with my classmates today?” she asked sheepishly over the phone.

“Of course it is.” Her mother’s voice was soft like a sigh over the phone. “Please go have fun. I want you to make a happy memory for once.”

“But I have plenty of happy memories with you!”

“I see…Then I’m glad,” she said before ending the call.

The level of self-deprication was normal, but something felt off about her that day. It nagged at Midoriko while she tried to socialize with her classmates and enjoy her first time at karaoke. When she excused herself and left early, she overheard someone talking about her immediately after the door closed.

“I just invited her to be nice, but why did she even bother coming if she was going to act miserable the whole time?”

She didn’t need friends. She didn’t need crushes. All she needed was her mother.

Midoriko rushed home only to find her mother unresponsive. Next to her was an empty medication bottle and a note.

To my precious daughter… Please follow your dreams and live happily.

***

“For a long time I wondered…What if I had just gone straight home instead of going to karaoke? Would she have hung on for a little longer?” Midoriko cried, clutching the fabric of Ryouma’s yukata. “But when I was cleaning out that apartment after she died, I found paperwork for a bank account…”

Ryouma planted soft kisses on her head as he held her tightly.

“There was a huge inheritance from her family that she never touched. Apparently, when I was young, she had arranged for it to be transferred into my name upon her death.” She took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. “That was when I realized she would have done it anyway! She did it for me! It’s all my fault…”

“Midoriko, none of that is your fault,” he said soothingly.

In her mind, she knew that he was right, but her heart couldn’t let it go. When she found out Ryouma’s curse would destroy his heart—that he was willing to risk that for her sake—it was like reopening an old wound. If someone else were to sacrifice themself for her sake, it would destroy her.

“Ryouma! What should I do?!” she sobbed. “That day is still so vivid in my mind! Why can’t I forget it?! I want to forget it!”

His heart throbbed. He understood her pain very well because it was the same kind he’d been carrying for so many years. The elation he felt over them having that in common sickened him, but he couldn’t help it. Enishi Ryouma finally felt like he’d found a kindred spirit in Suwa Midoriko.

“Ryouma, please!” she begged. Midoriko’s trembling hands clung to him. “Don’t you have a spell or something to erase my memories?! Please help me! Make me forget this!”

“I can’t help you with magic. But…” He wiped her tear-streaked cheeks with his thumbs as he held her face in his hands. “I can at least help you forget everything for a little bit.”

Ryouma pressed his lips to Midoriko’s—gently at first, but with each kiss, his ferocity increased. He flicked his tongue across her lips, and she obediently parted them, allowing him to kiss her more deeply.

“Ah…Ryouma…” she panted as their mouths briefly broke apart. “Ryouma…It’s not enough…”

“Then tell me what you want,” he murmured.

Ryouma cradled her in one arm, while his other hand brushed the yukata away from her shoulders. His lips traced her jawline, then moved down her neck, where he began to graze her skin lightly with his teeth. A small moan escaped her lips.

Midoriko threw her arms around his neck when his hand made its way inside her clothes to gently caress her tender, flushed skin. She shuddered at his touch.

“More! More!” she begged while her breath grew more and more ragged. “Ah… Ryouma! I need more!”

He had been waiting so long for those words. The way she clung to him and called his name drove him wild. If she wanted more, he would give her exactly that.

“Good,” he whispered into her ear. “Just focus on me, and only me right now.”

“Mm! Ryouma…”

Ryouma pressed his tongue inside her mouth once more, tracing across her teeth and palate. She eagerly kissed him back, pushing and rubbing her own tongue against his.

He took Midoriko into his arms, peppering her with more kisses as he carried her into her room.

***

Exhausted from the throes of passion, the two of them lay in each other’s arms, crammed onto the single futon together. Ryouma had loved her thoroughly and relentlessly.

Just as she’d wished, Midoriko’s mind cleared of awful memories for the time being.

He continued to kiss her softly and gently caress her face and neck in the afterglow. It was like he’d been waiting for permission and was now making up for lost time.

“When did you start having feelings for me?” asked Midoriko, her voice slightly husky.

“Just…gradually, I guess? I don’t think I understood what they were until after I went to Russia.” Midoriko could hear his soft, low voice reverberate through his chest as she rested her head against him. “How about you?”

There it was—the question from him she’d been dreading. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip. It was important to answer his sincere feelings honestly.

“I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”

“I thought that might be the case,” he said with a sigh. Ryouma was quiet for a moment, then Midoriko felt his chest shake as he let out a light chuckle. “I guess that means I lost our bet.”

“I…wouldn’t go that far…” she mumbled. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel anything for him—she actually felt quite a few things, most notably confusion. Was her attraction real, or was it just due to something like the suspension bridge effect?

“Midoriko, you don’t have much experience with relationships, do you?”

“Hey! Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?” Midoriko pouted. It had been a while for her, but was she that bad? “I already told you–”

“Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not what I meant,” he said, trying to stifle his laughter. Ryouma ran his fingers through her short hair. “I’m saying that you seem to have a hard time accepting my feelings and being honest about your own.”

“Oh…” She rolled away from him. How was it that he managed to read her like an open book? “That’s because I got burned in the past by trusting too easily.”

“Who hurt you?” he asked, pulling her close into a spooning position.

“Just a stupid ex from when I was in college.” Midoriko sighed. She hated talking about this. “He had some weird fetish for virgins, so he used me for sex and then dumped me for someone else.”

“What’s his name?”

“...Huh?”

He squeezed her tightly. “How old is he? Where does he live now? Where does he work? I just wanna have a word with him.”

“Ryouma, that’s enough!” Midoriko started laughing. “You don’t have to kill him! It happened five years ago! I’m over it!”

“Just so you know, I’ll never use you and throw you away like that,” he grumbled, nuzzling the nape of her neck.

She rolled back over to face him again, then kissed him.

“Thank you. I needed to hear that.”