The Color of the Sky I saw that Day was also Blue

Chapter 24:
Room 610 Pt. 1

Cherry trees grew along either side of the road leading to the hospital.

This spring they had been in bloom when he had tried to visit Shirakisawa Honoka, but now it was August. Petals no longer streamed through the branches, replaced by sunshine and cicada song.

At last the brand new building came into view. It had a relatively clean appearance, but the white walls felt sterile. Since it was filled with people cut off from their ordinary, daily lives, that might have been a rather natural state for the building.

Legally speaking, he was supposed to check in at the front desk before visiting any patients, but he knew it would have been a waste of time thanks to Mafuyu’s advice. Instead, Osakabe passed through the automatic doors and headed straight for the elevator.

While waiting for the elevator to arrive, he grew nervous.

The first fear to rear its ugly head—would he even be able to see Honoka? “My mother’s not a fan of yours,” Mafuyu’s words echoed in his mind.

The next doubt… Do I even have any right to see her? he wondered.

Before the question of whether he would even be allowed into the room, the fact that he was an uninvited guest weighed heavily on his shoulders. After all, I’m the person responsible for the injuries that put Honoka in this vegetative state. 

And finally, even if he were to meet her, what could he do?

Isn’t it rather arrogant to think that in the first place? I’m not a doctor, and I don’t have the money to support her financially. No matter how much I worry about it, there’s nothing I could do anyways.

And yet… I have to go.

With all that settled, he got on the elevator and pressed the button.

He arrived on the sixth floor, and at the same time the door opened, he froze in place. Nowhere to run now, he thought, scolding his trembling legs. Clutching the flowers he brought as a get-well gift, he stepped onto the linoleum floor.

In front of room 610, he checked that the nameplate did indeed read “Shirakisawa Honoka” before knocking on the door. Just as he was fretting about what to do if no one responded, the door to the room opened.

The face that peeked out belonged to a woman in her early forties. Her hair grew about to her shoulders and curled under slightly. Her eyes lacked a defined eyelid and her nose was flat, but the features were pleasant.

Shirakisawa Honoka’s mother—but of course this wasn’t the first time they’d met, so it wasn’t a surprise that she looked like her daughter. She looked at Osakabe and her face broke into an undisguised frown. “Could you wait a moment, please?” she said, then disappeared into the room once more.

He waited like that for several minutes.

When the door opened once more, she refrained from inviting Osakabe into the room and stepped out instead. At this point, his anxiety grew even more intense.

Honoka’s mother closed the door behind her and looked at Osakabe’s face with a wary gaze.

“I thought I told reception that we aren’t receiving any visitors… and didn’t I tell you this spring not to come here again? Why are you here?” she said.

“Mafuyu-san told me which room to go to, so I came right away. I apologize for any rudeness. And I would also like to offer my apologies once again for the accident. I am truly, deeply sorry. I know that no matter how many times I apologize nothing will change, but… I would at least like to see her face, even once. Would you please allow me to see Honoka?” he said.

From the very beginning, they failed at communicating with each other. Even though they held each other’s gazes still, the next words refused to come. The tension in the silent hallway, empty of anyone else, stretched so thin he found it difficult to breathe.

Honoka’s mother furrowed her brow in discomfort, her gaze wandering to the left and the right. At last she fixed her cold gaze on Osakabe and sighed.

“Honoka has not awakened once since the day of the accident. The doctors say although she has lost function in her cerebrum, only the brain stem is still active. And so she can breathe and maintain other necessary bodily functions, and yet… nothing more. My daughter’s eyes will never open. She will never cry again. Not to mention, she’ll never speak or sit up. What will your apologies change? If you were to see her, would her eyes open? If you were to meet Honoka, what do you think you could do? Please, tell me…”

She spoke plainly, bluntly. And then she covered her face with her hands and began to cry.

His own eyes grew warm behind his eyelids. It was exactly as she said. She had put into words the guilt he was already feeling, and Osakabe’s thoughts ground to a halt. What… what have I done to this family?

“…Even if I were to see her, I know nothing would change. But, even just one time. I want to hold her hand. To tell her face-to-face how sorry I am.”

His words felt cheap, even to himself. He could find no peace of mind. Was there something more persuasive he could have said? Wasn’t there something he could do? But in the middle of his speech he was already fed up with himself.

“Please leave.”

“Huh?” His breath caught at the all-too-clear rejection, and the word slipped out in surprise.

“Can I say it any more clearly? Please. Leave. Don’t ever show your face here again.” And she opened the door to the room, with only a glance back as she left him with the following words.

“A few times over the last few days, Honoka has smiled—just barely. Her face appears to have relaxed. I can’t tell if perhaps it only looks like that to me, or if my mind is playing tricks. So I’ll tell you just in case. If… if her condition ever changes for the better, we will contact you. I apologize, but until that time, please don’t ever return to this room. …Farewell.”

“Please, wait—”

His voice, cracking as if his throat had been squeezed dry, was interrupted by the unfeeling thud of the door closing.

…Honoka’s face had relaxed? She smiled?

He ran through her mother’s final words in his head. He had heard of other patients in a vegetative state who had shown some kind of reaction. But were spontaneous displays of emotion possible…?

In that instant, a theory came to his mind.

Is it possible that Honoka is dreaming? Do we both share the same memories of our time in Jodogahama?

Those thirteen days Osakabe had spent with Honoka. No, going back to memories before even that, he replayed them in his mind. Was he missing something? He had a sudden hunch.

That last night at the guest house. The movie they had seen in town. The shops they had visited. The ramen shop. The Blue Cave. Their first kiss on the beach. The night together in the love hotel. Fireworks along the river. The scenic spots they had visited together. The bus stop where they had met. …and, of course, the day of the bus accident. Memories directly before and after that day. Inside the bus, as it was falling, she had reached out her hand to me…

Ah—.

At this stage he finally realized. He had not yet recovered all of his memories.

“Don’t regret doing nothing, just like you did with me, okay?”

He suddenly remembered Minako’s words from that day.

It’s just like you said, Osakabe thought. There’s still something left for me to do. He checked that he still had the key to his scooter in his pocket, and he left the hospital with the undelivered flowers still in hand.

And then he turned his scooter towards Morioka Station.