Prologue to Poetry
Disclaimer: This is a bit back in time. Before I have written my poetry and sent it to Akio.
Why is it so hard to breath?
My lungs fill and collapse, but I am not trying. Am I so weak that I cannot draw breath?
I remember coming here. Eventually it became necessary. My body became weak so I checked myself in. After that I remember nothing else. No doctors. No surgeries. Nothing but pain and lights and an envoloping silence. A darkness.
Where am I? Who am I? Am I still me? Am I still Tsuchiya Ruka? Or am I no more than an empty shell.
He cracks open his eyes slowly, waking to the steady beep of monitors, and the rushing in and out sound of the oxygen machine. He chokes against the tube that trails down his throat. It hurts so much.
A nurse appears over him. Her face is a shadow and her hands deftly remove the tube, causing more pain, and replace it with a oxygen mask that encompases his mouth and nose. Carefully, he breaths again.
"I am glad to see you awake, Ruka-san." The nurse smiles as she moves around the room, opening the curtains and adjusting his IV drip. He follows her with his eyes and squints at the brightness of the sun.
It's different...It's all different...
"Kangofu-sama," he whispers, shocked at how weak his voice has become. "May I...look out the window?"
The nurse nods and raises his bed, adjusting pillows behind him. Replacing the oxygen mask with a tube in his nostrils. "Not for too long, Tsuchiya-san. You are still very weak." She excuses herself.
He gazes out the window and then around the room. His eyes fall on the bedside table, on which rests a black notebook and a ballpoint pen. Carefully he reaches over and picks both up.
Opening the notebook he flips past old entries to a fresh page and sets pen to paper.
They must realize. Someone has to see the imbalance of it all......Juri...I must get this to Juri....
It is a struggle to write and his hand shakes, but he finishes. It is legible. If she could not make it out Kaoru-kun would aid her. He was always clever for his age.His hand tears out the page and carefully folds it.
The nurse comes back then and helps him lay down, putting the oxygen mask once again over his face. "Sleep now." she says as she injects something into his IV to ease him along.
Before sleep takes him, he grabs ahold of her white skirt.
"Kangofu-sama, would you....please...give this to Juri-sempai?"
He presses the folded paper into her hand as his eyes slide shut.
The nurse peers down at the paper and carefully unfolds it, her eyes scanning it quickly. She smiles.
"I did not know you wrote poetry, Tsuchiya-kun. You must submit to the school annual."
She smiles as she leaves and goes to the nurses desk. She hands the paper to the secretary.
"A submission from one of our more prolific patients. Make sure it gets submitted."
The secretary puts the poem carefully in an envelope addressed to the Deputy Chairman.
Why is it so hard to breath?
My lungs fill and collapse, but I am not trying. Am I so weak that I cannot draw breath?
I remember coming here. Eventually it became necessary. My body became weak so I checked myself in. After that I remember nothing else. No doctors. No surgeries. Nothing but pain and lights and an envoloping silence. A darkness.
Where am I? Who am I? Am I still me? Am I still Tsuchiya Ruka? Or am I no more than an empty shell.
He cracks open his eyes slowly, waking to the steady beep of monitors, and the rushing in and out sound of the oxygen machine. He chokes against the tube that trails down his throat. It hurts so much.
A nurse appears over him. Her face is a shadow and her hands deftly remove the tube, causing more pain, and replace it with a oxygen mask that encompases his mouth and nose. Carefully, he breaths again.
"I am glad to see you awake, Ruka-san." The nurse smiles as she moves around the room, opening the curtains and adjusting his IV drip. He follows her with his eyes and squints at the brightness of the sun.
It's different...It's all different...
"Kangofu-sama," he whispers, shocked at how weak his voice has become. "May I...look out the window?"
The nurse nods and raises his bed, adjusting pillows behind him. Replacing the oxygen mask with a tube in his nostrils. "Not for too long, Tsuchiya-san. You are still very weak." She excuses herself.
He gazes out the window and then around the room. His eyes fall on the bedside table, on which rests a black notebook and a ballpoint pen. Carefully he reaches over and picks both up.
Opening the notebook he flips past old entries to a fresh page and sets pen to paper.
They must realize. Someone has to see the imbalance of it all......Juri...I must get this to Juri....
It is a struggle to write and his hand shakes, but he finishes. It is legible. If she could not make it out Kaoru-kun would aid her. He was always clever for his age.His hand tears out the page and carefully folds it.
The nurse comes back then and helps him lay down, putting the oxygen mask once again over his face. "Sleep now." she says as she injects something into his IV to ease him along.
Before sleep takes him, he grabs ahold of her white skirt.
"Kangofu-sama, would you....please...give this to Juri-sempai?"
He presses the folded paper into her hand as his eyes slide shut.
The nurse peers down at the paper and carefully unfolds it, her eyes scanning it quickly. She smiles.
"I did not know you wrote poetry, Tsuchiya-kun. You must submit to the school annual."
She smiles as she leaves and goes to the nurses desk. She hands the paper to the secretary.
"A submission from one of our more prolific patients. Make sure it gets submitted."
The secretary puts the poem carefully in an envelope addressed to the Deputy Chairman.