[Phantom Pain of Rousoku Himawari] A Mother and Her Child

The next thing I knew, I was watching Shiyako scarf down waffles drenched in maple syrup, and then washing them down with swigs of orange juice. We had decided to stop in one of the diners nearby, a nice and comfortable place with a cabin feeling to it, since most of the diner seemed to be made of polished wood with high ceilings and fake animal fur hung on the walls. The echoing clang of pots and pans could be heard throughout the diner, emanating from the kitchen. Lots of other people sat all around us, partaking in their breakfast.

A strong, brownish-orange glare coming from the wooden table lit up our faces as the sunlight flooded through the window and shined hard upon us. I never realized how many cute girls were such messy eaters, but she was pretty young, and I imagine she was extremely hungry. I didn't even realize that I had been rudely staring at her for about ten straight minutes, mesmerized by her ability to eat so fast, as if she were a grown man.

"Wow, you must've been starving. Didn't you have any breakfast today?"

She waited a while, not wanting to speak with her mouth full.

"I didn't! I rushed out the door without grabbing a bite to eat!"

"Why would you do that?! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know!", I said, knowing full well that I had ice cream for breakfast today.

"Because of love!"

"Love?"

"Yes, love! Love for my mother. I had been wanting to return this to her."

Shiyako rummaged around in her backpack, pulling out a rosary of glistening, red stones. The pendant bore not only the cross, but Jesus as well, paying for the sins of humanity with his blood and suffering.

"A rosary?" I asked.

"My mom always kept this with her. It belonged to her grandmother and was passed down to her, apparently. She, in turn, passed it down to me, but ever since Mom and Dad split up, I haven't been able to give it back. I'm sure she needs it much more than I do."
"Why's that?"

She put down her fork and nervously clasped her hands.

"Mom...stopped praying lately. She said that the prayers don't work anymore."

"Stopped praying? Why would she do something like that?"

"It's stupid. She just gets a little sick and all of a sudden she wants to stop praying. Are adults really that irresponsible? They'll just give up one something they love because it hurts them?"

At nineteen years old, I was an adult. I had an obligation to offer my limited perspective. That was something I still had to get used to, answering questions that I used to ask when I was little.

"Adults and children lead very different lives, and they're both exposed to different pressures. I think, because of that, adults have many more ways to rationalize their own surrender."

"But you're not like that, right?", she ignorantly asked. "You don't look like the kind of girl who gives up when the going gets tough!"

"No...I'm no different either.", I said, summoning an expression of disappointment and shock on her face. "I'm just as prone to surrender as anyone else. Someday, you will be too."

"No I won't! I detest people who give up when others are counting on them to keep trying! You don't have to succeed, but at least keep trying! How arrogant do you have to be to throw away your prayers as if everything is God's fault?"

"Are you angry at your mother?"

"Of course I am. Anyone who loves you will bother being angry at you for something so stupid."

I couldn't help but smile. Something about the raw purity of her heart made me so happy. I could tell that she was going to live a very nice life.

"I'm sure if we all had children like you, we'd remember what we're fighting for, Shiyako."

"Hmmm...do you have kids, Rousoku?"

"Oh, heavens no! I'm far too young!"

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen years old. You?"

"Nine years old! You're just ten years older than me!", she said with a big smile.

"When's your birthday?", I asked her with an amused grin.

"March 27th! You?"

"You can't be serious! I'm March 28th!"

I think I speak for both of us when I say that, upon discovering how close our birthdays were, we fell in love with each other.

"It's like you're my big sister! At long last, I have a big sister!"
"Quite a crazy coincidence, huh?"
"No! Not a coincidence!"

Shiyako suddenly stood up on her booth seat and took my hands into hers, gazing at me with her sparkling eyes of joy and sisterly love.

"It's fate! No, even better! It's a miracle! God made a miracle happen today, letting the two of us meet! Rejoice, Rousoku! I think this is the beginning of a beautiful, everlasting friendship!"
"Umm...Shiyako...everyone is looking at us weird..."

It seemed that our antics had attracted the silent, perplexed stares of the other patrons, which felt more like assault rifles from a firing squad aimed at our temples. She calmed herself and sat back down, continuing to eat her syrup-drenched pancakes.

"Well...at any rate...let's finish up here and get going.", she mumbled to herself with her mouth full of pancakes.

How terrible. I made a friend.

Before long, we were out of there and back on the streets. The hoodie I had been wearing up until then had grown unnecessary. It was already the afternoon, so the sun's heat was bearing down on us from directly above. I removed the hoodie and tied it around my waist while Shiyako whipped out her phone, trying to find the message from her mother that contained directions to her house. I knew that if there was one thing I probably wasn't going to miss, it would be the sun and all of its fury.

Knowing that the sun was also a ticking time bomb capable of wiping out the entire galaxy upon its death, the idea of interplanetary travel seemed much more alluring than just being content with being on Earth for any longer than we, as a species, really have to. I mean, just think of how many other planets and interesting star sys-

"Hey, Rousoku, are you listening? My mother's house is this way! I think..."

Indeed, Shiyako interrupted my thoughts, but that's not to say my thoughts were very important. Yes, I should've been more concerned about getting the young girl to her mother safely, not about interplanetary travel. Stupid, stupid Rousoku.

"Let me see the address, please?"

"Oh, sure."

She showed me the message sent from her mother, as well as the address within. I immediately knew that she had pointed to the opposite direction her mother actually lived, so I pointed is in the right direction. And so, together, we began to make our way over there. She held my hand as if she really was my little sister.

The sidewalk wasn't all too busy, but we were walking along a major street comprised of three lanes running East and West. With that many cars, it almost seemed like they were all talking to each other, or rather, cursing at one another with the horns acting as sensors.

Forgive my colorful imagination and retelling of these otherwise typical, urban scenes.

"Hey, Rousoku, do you believe in miracles?", she suddenly asked me.

"Miracles? Well...hard to say. I'm more inclined to just believe in coincidences, or perhaps even karma"

"Coincidences are just a more anti-climactic name for miracles, aren't they? It's the same thing, but removes the divine factor of its occurence. I'd say Karma commits the same crime!"

"Well...if you remove the Kami in "Kamiwaza", you're just left with the character for Karma, so you're actually kind of right about that. Though Karma itself is a concept sprouted from religion, it's also garnered an informal, non-spiritual meaning that is simply synonymous with fate or destiny."

"Boring. No wonder adults are always so depressed. They've taken the magic out of their own lives! Why not believe a big man in the clouds is looking out for you, or an angel saved you from getting soaked in the rain?"

"Because we can't see any of those things, probably!"

"So you'll live your life only by what your eyes can sense, huh? That's worse than just blindfolding yourself."

"Living your life only by what is most apparent to you is just awful. Aren't there things you have to think a bit more deeply about?"

"Of course there are, but it bec-"

"Ooooh look! Birds!", she suddenly shouted. She released my hand and ran ahead, scaring away a flock of pigeons off of the sidewalk. I take it the pigeons didn't quite appreciate being startled like that, but she could only giggle and grin with bliss.

"Sorry, I just had to. See? You didn't even notice those pigeons before I did, and your eyes are wide open."

I...she...she was right. But I didn't really see the importance of a flock of pigeons. Humanity has always had to deal with pigeons in cities, to the point where we consider them to be flying rats. But I did understand something else.

For whatever reason, messing with pigeons made her happy. It's like she was a living ray of sunlight beamed down upon the earth, or a small gateway to the paradise of Heaven. She exuded nothing but joy in that one moment, and that was the kind of happiness she knew she had to live for.

Why is it that my eyes were wide open, and yet, I saw none of it until she pointed it out? How do you "see" that which makes you happy?

"Well, I guess you really do have a point after all", I conceded.

We continued out little walk, though she was now marching of her own accord with her hands behind her back, a little ways ahead of me.

"All of that said, the existence of miracles doesn't necessarily mean that coincidences don't exist, right? Maybe they coexist like the moon and the sun! Surely it can't be hard for an adult to just see the plain coincidences, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Like...hmmm...you said your birthday was on March 27th, right?"

"Sure did, what about it?"

"I just thought of something! Your first name, Shiyako. It's written with three kanji. 'Purple', 'Sunshine', and 'Child'. Twelve strokes for 'Shi', another twelve for 'Ya', and then three for 'Ko'!"

Her eyes widened in childish amazement, as if I had just blown her mind.

"You're right! 3/27 coincides with my name! Three kanji and twenty-seven strokes! That's pretty good, Rousoku! I guess you can see things that I can't as well, huh?"

"Well, it's like small, trivial details versus your larger than life attention to more subtle and important things. I think, in that sense, you're right about what you said. Maybe adults really are blind, or the may as well be. If only we could have that sweet balance. The education and objectiveness of an adult, with the joyous, positive perspective of a child."

"You're only nineteen, right? That's still relatively young! Don't talk like it's too late for you! If you need it, I'll help you see what you can't see by yourself! That's what sisters are for, after all."

What a pure little girl. She had given me her full heart and love on the very day I met her, just because of those few...no...I was going to say coincidences. But thinking back...I like to think she was right, and that meeting her was indeed one of those miracles.

An hour later, we were definitely close to her destination, but we decided to sit down for a bit on a bench in a small park. Our legs felt like melted butter after our long walk, but I will say that the exercise felt pretty good. We saw a lot of little kids playing on the slides and swings with their mothers, all of them wearing the same infectious smile that Shiyako did just an hour ago. As a treat, I had gotten us both some root beer, something that I hadn't had in a while.

"Whew!", she sighed after taking huge gulps from the soda can. "That's so good! Eh...don't tell my mom about this! I'm not allowed to have soda!"

I laughed and waved it off. "It's all right, it's all right. It'll be our little secret."

Shiyako then removed her backpack, opening it up and taking out a small, pink lunchbox. Two juice boxes, a sandwich cut into four, small pieces, a bag of trail mix, fruit snacks, and even a small brownie. Lucky...when I was a kid, I just got peanut butter sandwiches and a banana. Before she even took a bite of any of it, she gave two of her sandwich pieces to me. I didn't even ask for any, and she...she selflessly gave them to me.

Then she handed me one of the juice boxes and continued giving me equal shares of whatever she had.

"I was supposed to eat all of this at school, but meals are so much better with friends."

"True, but you could've done the same thing at school, no?"

"No, not really. I...don't really have friends at school. It's a pretty lonely place. And I don't see Dad very often since he works so much, so..."

"Oh...I'm sorry, Shiyako." I said, her loneliness resonating in my heart. She smiled and shook her head.

"Don't worry about it! You're my friend, and I'm eating with you now! Let's dig in! Sorry it isn't much."

"No, it's perfectly fine."

Ah, I still remember the taste of her ham and cheese sandwiches. The ham especially was of excellent quality. You can taste a sweet, smokey flavor along with the slight spice of the mustard and the coolness of the cheese. The juice was a delightful peach flavor, the perfect refreshment after a few bites every now and then.

"Hey, Rousoku, do you have a car? I was just thinking this would've been a much easier trip if we just drove here."

"Oh...no, I don't. Actually, I'm...I'm scared of driving."

"Huh? Why's that?"

Because the last time I was behind a wheel, I crashed and killed all of my friends. But of course, I couldn't just say that.

"Just...just a phobia of mine, I guess. Like how some people are scared of spiders or tight spaces."

"Ah, I see."

"Are you scared of spiders?"

"No way! At least not tarantulas. I think they're kind of cute! I guess I'm more scared of...maybe...loneliness. I don't want to end up alone. That's why I really want Mom to take her rosary back and continue praying, even if it doesn't work out in the end."

I battled against my tongue for a moment as I prepared to cut open the issue. The curiosity was killing me.

"You said your mother was sick back at the diner. Is she-"

"Adrenal cortex cancer. It's a very rare form of cancer. She first got it four years ago, but none of us were too worried about it. It was small and mostly contained to the adrenal, so that worked greatly in her favor. But then..."

"It got worse."

"Yeah."

"What are her chances now?"

"...Not so good. The doctors told her she'd...I don't even want to say it! I don't know why she agreed to hear how much time she had left! What was the point of doing that if she was going to stop praying?"

"Maybe she wanted to know how much time she had left so she could prepare herself, and maybe even prepare you."

"I'd be better prepared if I saw her happy…”
"Have you told her that?"

She shook her head side to side.

"Maybe...you two should have a talk about it. You're her daughter, so it's not like she won't listen to your feelings. I think spending more time with you will even help her find her hope again again, and with it...her spirit."

"You really think so?"

"I know so."

There it was, that blessed smile. The smile of a child was such a precious thing. I don't think I realized that as much until that day.

"Thank god you came to me today, Rousoku."

And so, at last, our journey came to an end. After lunch, we walked just a little further past the park. Looking at the address again, I realized we stopped right in front of the correct house, the Daibutsu household.

It was a rather nice house in the middle of a nice, suburban neighborhood. At had at least two floors, a garage, a small lawn and patio area, and a pretty sturdy gate around the house itself. Slanted roofs, a sand-colored paint job with white doors and window sills...it really did feel like a home from the outside.

"Whew! All right, here we are, Shiyako! Looks like this is your stop."

I looked over to her after failing to get an immediate response. She clasped her hands together, the rosary interweaved between them both with the pendant dangling in the sunlight. She seemed incredibly nervous, scared to confront her mother, and probably scared of upsetting her. I patted her head and caressed her hair, prompting her to look up at me with her glossy eyes.

"Go on, Shiyako. Don't be afraid.", I said, almost in a whisper.

She took a few steps forward before returning her eyes to me.

"Rousoku?"

"Yeah?"

"Will I see you again?"

Of all questions...why did you have to ask that one?

"Yeah. You will.", I lied to her. "I get ice cream next to the bank every now and then."

"Really? I...I hope to see you around there again! I'm really thankful for you today. It was the most time I've spent with anyone for a while."

The girl graciously bowed to me, and I to her.

"Thank you, Big Sis."

"And thank you, Shi...Little sis."

And so, I watched her take those brave steps up to the door. She stood on her tippy toes to reach the doorbell, where she was greeted by what looked like her grandmother. She was probably taking care of her mother ever since her illness got worse.

The two embraced as I watched from the sidewalk, feeling a little proud that I was able to help out. They stood with the door open for a little while as Shiyako kept pointing back over to me. Her grandmother, with her knit sweater and head of curly, grey hair, waved at me.

"Thank you for helping her find her way! Do you want to come in?"
"Oh, no! That's fine! I should be heading home now anyway, if I want to make it back before dark. Shiyako...good luck!"
"Thanks Big Sis! Oh, here! I have something for you!"

Shiyako ran out of the house with a bouquet of flowers in her arms, a sweet little bundle of red roses and blue orchids. She handed them to me as if I were a beauty pageant winner, or a monarch.

"My grandma arranges flowers for people, so you can have this bundle! Please, accept it as thanks for today."

"Oh Shiyako...this is so sweet! Thank you, dear. Now you go on and say everything you need to say. Don't-"

"Don't be scared! I know!" she said with a smile.

"Right. Goodbye then, Shiyako."

That was the last time I saw something so beautiful and innocent that it shook the very roots of my heart. Shiyako was a painfully beautiful child. She waved a final time before her grandmother closed the door, and I remembered what it was I had to do that day. I remembered that my life wasn't as joyous as Shiyako's. It never could be.

"I guess...the day is over..." I whispered to myself as the sun looked like it was ready to start its fall past the horizon.

I made my silent return home, holding the flowers Shiyako had given me closely. Most of the dying, orange sunlight had been tucked into the western corner of the sky as half of it disappeared behind the horizon, while the rest of the sky, ironically, wore a faint cloak of ghostly purple. Most of the people that populated the streets at the beginning of that day had already returned home, it seemed. As I stood in front of my apartment building, I realized that I was home too, and that I'd never leave again.

Ah, my kingdom of filth drenched in darkness and the smell of sadness. There was no need in trying to turn on the lights. What was the point? With a heavy sigh, I put aside the flowers and stripped off my clothes, finally unwinding after my long day, much longer than I planned for it to be. It felt all too real.

I was really going to die there, in that bed, surrounded by all of these meaningless things. I wondered how long it would be before anyone even found me. Probably not for a while, huh? No one here knows me or cares about me. That's right. There's no harm in me dying.

It wasn't even all of the suffering and sadness that really made me feel like I had to die. It was the numbness afterwards. It was the lonely nights. It was the long, unbearable days. It was the empty message boxes, the lack of any sign that anyone really cared about how I was doing. I fought to make it through what had brought me great sadness. I fought like hell to get over that and live again, but when I won that battle, there was no one waiting on the other side for me.

All that was left was an empty numbness, compounded by loneliness. And so, Rousoku Himawari would hurt no one by closing the curtains upon herself. Yes...I'll die right here.

I sat down on my bed, my hands shaking with a disorientating mix of fear, happiness, sadness, and great relief. Staring at the bottle of pills I knew I would kill myself with, I...ended up giggling.

"Life is just a comedy, isn't it? A sad comedy. And at the end of every episode, the punchline is that none of it mattered. Everyone will be recast, and the show starts anew. So...it's okay to laugh."

I lied down with the bottle in my hand, staring at my ceiling with a blank expression of emotional oblivion. I began to think. Was there anything else I wanted to do?

After what felt like an eternity of thinking, I decided that there wasn't. I was done. It was just time to go. Stop stalling it. Thinking of Osamu like that only made me want to leave even faster, to be free of those thoughts. And so, over the course of twenty minutes, I took all eighty-six pills, as if I were eating candied corn. I reached in the bottle for another, only to realize I had consumed them all.

"Here it comes...Death."

I lied there, staring at my ceiling, knowing that I had passed the point of no return. My kingdom of filth, my broken ability to love myself, my insecurities, my pain, my shortcomings, all of it would fade away with death. The dying rays of sunlight tinted my entire room a shade of deep, dark pink as I closed my eyes and waited to leave this world. Karma, huh?

That pesky phantom that follows us wherever we go, keeping us stuck in our karmic cycles, our tragic samsara. I'd rather it all end so I can just reach nirvana already. Let this tired candle be blown out at last, her aroma lifting into the air beyond the sky itself.

Karma...I remembered something so important that my eyes shot open halfway. It was all they were capable of at that point. I had spoken to Shiyako about that, about Karma. I thought about it just a bit as I lied there, and I realized something.

When I donated clothes, I got free ice cream in return. When I remembered the teller at the bank, I discovered the note she left for me in the envelope. When I spent the rest of the day taking Shiyako home, she not only gave me those flowers, but along the way, she gave me conversation, a new perspective, even half of her own food.

My heart fluttered with excitement...and soon after, regret. I wanted to get up, vomit out the pills I had taken, and try to live another day. I didn't want to die anymore! There was meaning! Shiyako was really hoping to see me again soon, too! She looked up to me enough to call me a big sister, but being with her made me wonder if that was what it was like to have a daughter, or even a son.

I had a child growing inside of me. Sure, we had no help, no family, and no idea how we'd make ends meet, but if it meant raising someone as pleasant as Shiyako...maybe there wasn't really anything to fear. Maybe I should've turned that fright into courage. I should've done more for both the baby and myself.

But no matter what I thought, how deeply I felt about it, or how moved I was by these realizations...my body wouldn't move. I was paralyzed. It was too late to regret my decision.

I could only turn my head to those flowers, realizing all too late that those were flowers of hope and new beginnings, not for a funeral. Just as I was unable to see the joy in disturbing those pigeons, I failed to see the joy those flowers were supposed to represent. I saw them only as symbols of sadness. And now, the reality of my situation really, truly hit me.

My god...oh my god...I'm...I'm really going to die.

"No...wait...please! I made a mistake!" I sobbed as my tears blurred my vision. I was unable to even move my arms to wipe them away.

Oh Shiyako...I'm so sorry. What have I done? Why did I forsake the things you were trying to teach me? You were my greatest miracle that day...and I ignored your warning. I didn't heed your teachings well enough. I saw it all too late. The light at the end of the tunnel. The hope that although the love I wanted died, in your words, I 'was only nineteen'. I was young. I would have the chance to love again, and when that time came, I'd feel all of the things I felt for Osamu.

In you, I could've had a friend, a little sister figure. I'd relearn what it is to feel joy, to love and protect someone. I realized as I was slipping away from this life, that I could've been happy, if I had only discarded my pain for just a while longer. I would've been happy.

"I don't want to die...I don't want to die...I don't..."

But as much as I sobbed, I could do nothing. Fighting my paralysis grew more and more difficult to do. I felt as if my insides were burning, my organs bursting, and my blood boiling against my veins as if it had turned into acid. I realized how painful death by overdose really was.

It was like I had opened a great Pandora's Box of pain. But soon, that pain subsided as I got closer and closer to death, my vision blacking out slowly, like a movie fading to black. Death was calling my name, and I had mistakenly called back to it.

In shameful regret, in filth, bathed only by sin and envy, I, Rousoku Himwari, aged nineteen...died that summer. I had successfully committed suicide. My last view was of those flowers resting on my nightstand, roses and orchids, my room cloaked in darkness, and the air heavy with the sorrow of my own invention.

Shiyako...did I ever tell you how much I loved those flowers?

-------------------------

The next morning, I awoke to find myself far away from home. Far, far away from my apartment. I don't remember how or when, but I awoke in the middle of a busy street in Kyoto, the cars passing right through my body instead of crashing into me. Of course, I hadn't known where I was yet, not until I came to you and we found out what happened to me.

It's like I was just born in the heart of Kyoto, lost and dazed among all the activity there. I panicked and looked around, realizing I didn't recognize anyone or anything. And so, I got off of the road, away from blaring horns and humming engines of the cars, and joined the robotic mass of people walking up and down the sidewalks. At least that much hadn't changed between my home and Kyoto.

I recall something though. I wasn't that far from a cathedral when I woke up. The funeral bells were ringing, and I could just faintly hear the prayer of the priest from inside, using the word of God to bless the dead and comfort the living. I remember some of the words he howled to the heavens, drilling them within the souls of those who mourned their lost loved one.

"Death is but the gateway to the glory of God. Those who lived by their heart, whose souls stood taller than their shadows, they have no reason to fear its embrace. And so I ask of you, all of you who mourned and loved this woman, to open your crying eyes, and take a look at what the lord has done. Look at what he has done! Look at the glory he has shown to us! Ninety years of age! Ninety long, beautiful years!

“Ninety years of breathing in the air, taking in the sights, working, loving, praying, and singing her joy to the sky. I ask you all today to not only mourn as one should, but to celebrate her life, and how long she was permitted to bless us with her existence. In death, she continues to live within us, her kindness carved into our hearts with a blade that inflicts pleasure, not just pain.

“Those beautiful scars become our memories of her. And while it may feel as though those memories are phantoms of their own, haunting you wherever you may go, we will all realize our blessings. Only then will we truly realize the glory of God's work."

Shiyako...I imagine she sat by the same bank we met at, waiting for me to arrive. Whenever I think of her standing there like that for hours, holding a bundle of flowers or a tray of snacks for me...I regret my decision even more.

And so...that's the end of my tale, the story of my final day. I now stand before you, a ghost wrapped in the veil of shame, regret, envy, and resentment. I bear my sins upon my soul, and vengefully inflict them upon you, Osamu. And yet, at the same time, I weep. I acknowledge and repent for those sins.

Perhaps we both have a lot to repent for, and to take out on each other. Our love has become a form of warfare, where our words, feelings, and stinging judgements are our weapons, our pride our walls, our arrogance our armies. We blame ourselves, blame each other, and hopefully, in the end, we can repent for it all.

So...Osamu...what can I say as I weep before you now, lost between the motions of hating and loving you? I suppose we can only start here, with this.

Your ex lover is dead.