[Phantom Pain of Rousoku Himawari] The Weight of Guilt

Enthralled by Izanami's kindness, Rousoku finally opened up and began telling her story.

(Allow me to take us back to a day during the winter, when our last year of high school was just about over. There are many things I don't remember, so, perhaps I'm not the most reliable narrator, but I do remember this. Our high school was like any other high school, and I was like any other girl. I remember the thick snow that covered the ground, the dry chill of the winter air, and the big, dark clouds that covered the sky.)

The clouds blanketed the sky, making it almost as dark as night. The inside of the school was illuminated by interior lights beaming down from the ceilings, both in the halls and the classrooms. Rousoku ran through the halls at full speed, racing through crowds of mingling classmates in black, long sleeve uniforms. Finally reaching her classroom, she slammed open the door and bursted in with a massive smile.

"Our winter trip is a go! My parents finally said yes!" Rousoku sang, approaching her three friends sitting around her desk.

(The admittedly handsome doofus with the dirty-blonde hair and jade necklace was Chihiro. We met at the beginning of high school, and when I finally tried to address him by his first name, I pronounced it as Senjin. You could probably imagine my embarrassment as he stared at me as if I was stupid, laughed it off, and corrected me. It's written as Senjin, as in 'Great Depth', but the kanji are read as Chihiro. Stupid, stupid me...)

"Seriously?! All right! Rousoku is in!" Chihiro hollered. "About time! We were considering just going without you."

"Huh?! That's so mean!" Rousoku recoiled.

(The girl with the braided, brown hair was Sayaka. She was too cute for her own good, I know. She was very shy, and you could almost see that timid quality of hers in her eyes. She always clung to me, even though I wasn't that much more outgoing than her.)

"Chihiro! Don't say that!" Sayaka scolded.

"It's like you guys never heard of a joke before..." Chihiro groaned, scratching his head.

"If you ditch Rousoku, I'll ditch you in a ditch!" Sayaka threatened.

Chihiro gasped dramatically. "You'd never!"

" Oh no...I've become the center of a lover's quarrel..." Rousoku said.

(I think the leader of this little group of ours was Amiya. We often called her Black Beauty because of her long, black hair. It was always curly and felt so incredibly soft! She always had to tie it in class so she wouldn't sit on the ends of her hair, but when it was all laid out, it was gorgeous! Ahem...excuse my nostalgic gushing...)

"Nah, Chihiro probably has a crush on the school's football coach." Amiya joked.

"Oh how original of you Amiya, yet another 'Chihiro is totally gay guys, am I right?' joke. Go figure." Chihiro chided.

Amiya slapped the back of Chihiro's head. "Sit in an oven and die in it."

"Tell a joke and suddenly, I'm the bad guy." Chihiro sighed. "Well then, since we can all go, let's go home, pack our bags, and get some early rest. Tomorrow, we conquer the hot springs!"

Sayaka squealed with joy. "I've been looking forward to this since fall!"

"All right! I'll pick everyone up tomorrow! My dad said I could use his car for this trip!" Amiya said.

Rousoku nodded. "Right! I'll be ready!"

(That day, just as we planned, Amiya drove around and picked us all up from our homes, and we carpooled out of town. We were going to a resort in the countryside that we spent all year saving up for. Even as we got out of town and started seeing more plains and distant mountains instead of busy shops and skyscrapers, the snow remained abundant and beautiful. It was supposed to be a good trip. But...We never made it to our destination.)

They were on their way, taking the long, but peaceful drive to their winter getaway. Amiya had gotten tired, and so the task of driving the rest of the way fell to Rousoku. The car was quiet, as everyone but Rousoku had fallen asleep. Being on such a long drive with no one to talk to to keep her awake, it took herculean effort just for Rousoku to keep her eyes open. Every time she blinked, her head fell and her eyes closed before she snapped back awake again.

(Stupid, stupid Rousoku...you deserved everything that happened that day.)

Rousoku was ultimately unable to keep herself awake. Her foot still on the gas pedal, she snapped back awake and noticed the speedometer readings climbing up to 130 kilometers per hour. By the time she woke up and noticed how fast they were going, she felt the car suddenly slip, the tires losing traction with the road. Unable to control the car, Rousoku let out a horrified scream, waking her friends. The car slid through the opposite lane of traffic, barreling the edge of a steep, downhill slope.

Terrified screams filled the car in the moments just before the deafening crash, then everyone fell silent.

(When I came to, branches of trees were sticking through the broken windshield and windows of the car. I could feel the crunch of glass at my feet, and the warm streams of blood dripping down my face from a cut to my head.)

Her vision still fuzzy, Rousoku grabbed hold of her aching, bleeding head and called out to her friends. "Sayaka? Amiya? Chihiro? Is everyone okay?"

(I...I couldn't even recognize them. Their distinct faces, their definitive eyes and body shapes...all of it became a mangled, bloody mess that was unrecognizable. Their faces were swollen and stuck in the moment when they'd realized they were going to die. Their eyes that once looked so beautiful looked like they were made out of worn out rubber. I wanted to believe it was all a joke, but their scattered blood and brains were all too real. I realized...I killed my friends.)
(About a week later, I attended their funeral. It was held at our local Buddhist temple. Since we were all friends, their funerals were held together, and they were honored side-by-side. It's what they would've wanted.)

Trails of smoke from burning incense floated in front of the framed portraits of Saya, Amiya, and Chihiro, all aligned on their funeral altar in front of their closed, flower-adorned caskets. So many people, students, friends, and family alike all came to pay their respects, all of them, including Rousoku, donned in black. A monk in yellow robes stood before the altar, chanting sutras as he cradled prayer beads in his hands.

Sobs and pained wails filled the temple. Saya, Amiya, and Chihiro weren't even out of high school. They each had so many dreams and wishes that went unfulfilled, their lives cut tragically short. They would never grow into adults, never fall in love, never bear children of their own.

(The whole time, I kept thinking...Sayaka's mom is crying because of me. I took away her daughter. Chihiro was an only child. His parents were too old to have another child. Amiya... surely would've been famous for her beauty and talents in art and music. I robbed the world of a future star, didn't I? Chihiro, he could've done anything he wanted. He was a free spirit and a really independent thinker. He would've made a great leader. Since the day of the crash, and even at the funeral...I couldn't stop shaking.)

Rousoku slithered away from the crowd and retreated into the bathroom, weeping as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. It was like an anchor was in her chest, and no amount of crying could get it out. A bandage was wrapped around her head, and white patches covered cuts on her cheek and arms. She was incredibly lucky to have survived the crash, and yet, she envied her friends for being dead. Death was better than living on with the guilt of killing the people she loved.

"It's all my fault...I killed you all...and I don't even have a good reason..."

The sound of the bathroom door flinging open startled Rousoku. She turned and saw Sayaka's heartbroken mother, who focused her fiery glare on Rousoku.

"Ms. Umeyashi..." Rousoku sobbed.

Umeyashi said nothing as she walked up to Rousoku. Her mood and expression were too vague for Rousoku to even guess what she was going to do.

"Murderer..." Umeyashi mumbled.

Umeyashi suddenly pushed Rousoku into the mirror behind her, cracking it into several pieces. Rousoku fell to the floor, holding her hands over her head for fear of being hit by Umeyashi.

"Why? Why did you do it? Why did you take my little girl!? Why did you take her friends too?!"

"Umeyashi, please, I-"

"You're disgusting! You run away into a bathroom to cry on your own! You don't even have the guts to confront the parents that lost their children because of you! It's like you think you're the only one who's hurt! Look around you! There are dozens of people here, and all of them are crying!"

(The sweet Umeyashi I knew had become so violently angry at me...and all I could do was cry.)

"Please kill me....I can't take this! I didn't want this! I loved them! I would never hurt them! Please...I loved them! Please believe me!" Rousoku begged.

"I don't. I never will. You're lucky you weren't thrown in jail for manslaughter. I guess that's what happens when you come from an affluent family, huh? Hah...what am I saying? What am I doing? None of this fighting will bring them back. Just get out, Rousoku. Go home."

Rousoku stood up, shivering like a cold, starving animal. "I...I'm sorry...I know you won't forgive me, but please know that I'm...I'm so terribly sorry..."

(My mother was a doctor, and my father was one of the best lawyers in town. Until the accident, I had a good relationship with my parents. But the thing about affluent families is that they depend so much on honor and reputation. Needless to say, the accident sullied the family name. That's why, when I came downstairs the next morning...)

The first thing Rousoku saw at the front door was a suitcase. She came down, dressed only in a t-shirt and underwear. A card was attached to the handle, bearing her name on it. Rousoku Himawari. As she realized what was happening, she turned around as she felt her father's presence. Those stern, furious eyes told her everything she did not want to know.

"No...Dad...don't do this!" Rousoku cried.

"I've already decided. You do not have a say in the matter. Take whatever essentials you need if they aren't already packed and get out."

"Please, I'm begging you! You and Mom are the only two people I have left in this world! Don't kick me out like this!"

"You don't deserve it, but I've left you some money in there as well, just enough so you can get a good place and have some financial room to look for work."

"Dad!"

"Enough, Rousoku."

Rousoku's tears made it hard for her to keep her eyes open, and much too difficult to even see the wrinkles on her father's face.

"Does Mom know?" Rousoku asked.

"We talked about it last night. She agrees with me. Of course, she couldn't be here because she has to work. I know what happened was just an accident, but when it comes to the lives of your friends, 'accident' isn't an excuse. If you were tired, you should've taken the time to rest. If the road was too slippery, perhaps you should've waited for a more opportune time, or used a different method of transportation.

"It isn't all your fault, and I don't think you should blame yourself. But this...this could've been prevented had all of you just been a little more cautious. This failure in judgement will reflect badly on the family if you remain here. Your mother wants more children soon, so it would be unfair of them to be subjected to scrutiny just because you tarnished our name. As such, we found it appropriate for you to leave. You're an adult now anyway."

Her father walked away, for all that needed to be said was said clearly and boldly. Rousoku took some pants and warmer clothes from the suitcase, dressing in them by the front door. When she was all dressed, she took hold of the only thing she had left in her life, a measly little suitcase, and accepted her exile from her family.

(And so, I found myself a small apartment far away from home. It wasn't comfortable, but I managed. For the first year, I couldn't sleep at all. Every night would just result in me waking up from a nightmare, soaked in sweat and tears. I thought about dying, but for some reason, I kept on trying to live, to see an end to all of this pain. And then...it happened...)

Three years later, Rousoku was lucky enough to be too short to reach the flour in the baking aisle.Her fingers managed to slide the bag of flour off the shelf and...right into her face. She was knocked right down onto the ground with a bloodied nose, a true embarrassment.

"Ow! Why do they put the heavy things at the top?" Rousoku complained.

"Hey...Ma'am...are you all right?"

(I looked and saw him...his long, wicked hair...his handsome face and worried eyes...it was like I had known him well, long before I had even met him. I met Osamu Ashikaga, my one and only love. My prayers were answered. God sent me my angel.)