Fanfiction: Liar Game -- Rite of Spring, Day Three
Title: Rite of Spring, Day Three
Fandom: Liar Game
Characters: Nao, Akiyama
Rating: T
Summary: Nao finds a strangely familiar boy, and she and Akiyama discover a connection in their past that goes much deeper than they originally thought.
Notes: Part 3 of 5. Read 1 and 2.
So, the secret is out, Nao thinks. Not that she can imagine keeping anything secret from any version of Akiyama Shinichi.
“Why did I grow up to be such a loser?”
She defends Akiyama reflexively. “Akiyama-san is not a--”
Akiyama interrupts her. “It's a fair question.” His voice barely rises above a whisper. He looks stoic enough, but after watching Akiyama in so many situations, she hears the tension in his voice, and knows his expression as the one he uses to block out pain. Shin's words hit their target much deeper than he can know right now. “One that he needs to see for himself. I have the day off tomorrow. We'll to the aquarium, and then we'll visit my mother. ”
Nao looks at him, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
He shrugs. “It needs done.”
“Umm...do you want me to come along?”
Akiyama's gaze drills into her. Nao suddenly realizes that while she does know Akiyama's past-or a version of it consistent with his behavior-Akiyama doesn't know that she knows. Nor did he ever tell her. Even just asking, indicates that Nao knows something, right? She should have waited for an invitation, or some instructions.
“Whatever you want to do.” Akiyama says while lacing his boots. “What are you going to do with Shin today?”
“I don't have class,” Nao says, “So I'm going to visit my father. Between the Liar Game, and school and everything, I've really neglected him. I'll take Shin with me. My dad will enjoy the extra company.”
“Fine.” Akiyama grabs his hat. “I'll come over for dinner. And we can work more on finding out how to send Shin home. Later.”
“Good-bye, Akiyama-san. I'll see you tonight.”
*
Her father's reaction to Shin is not what Nao imagined it to be. Her normally cheerful, sleepy, easygoing father sees Shin and instantly becomes alert. Perhaps she only imagines the vague shake of his head.
“Nao-chan?”
“Father.” Nao sets down the little plate of sweets that she made for him and the other patients on the nightstand. “You seem very awake today.”
“That's because you're here. And I see you've brought a visitor.”
“This is Shin-kun. I'm looking after him for a little bit.”
“Ahh-for a second he looked familiar. Maybe a cousin of yours or something.” He knows as well as Nao does that there are no cousins in their family, at least not any that are as young as Shin. “It must be the imagination of an old man. Do you play chess, Shin-kun?”
Nao goes to the shelf where her father keeps his trusted game board, the one that has seen thousands of games between father and daughter, and even more among her father and his friends. Nao knows her father at least was an incredible player, and she would bet a small sum, less than 100 million, that Shin would know how to play well, or at least could pick up the game very quickly.
“I've never played before, sir.” Shin's voice is very quiet, different from both his demeanor with Akiyama or herself.
“It's very simple to learn,” the elder Kanzaki says, as Nao sets up the chess pieces for him. “Nao can explain the rules, and then she can help move the pieces for me.”
“Please try your hardest.” Nao smiles.
Her father wins the game, of course. In the course of watching him play for as long as she can remember, Nao never once actually recalls a game where he lost to any opponent. But, as Nao suspects, Shin grasps the concept and strategy of chess incredibly quickly, and the game is much closer than she'd suspect.
“You did well, Shin-kun. Nao, give him some money to buy us drinks.”
Nao opens her wallet and gives Shin a 1000 yen bill.
“I'd like some coffee. No cream, lots of sugar.”
“Dad, your heart-are you sure?”
“I'll be fine Nao. Tell Shin-kun what you want.”
“Oh...just some green tea would be fine. Get anything you want, and don't worry about the rest.”
When Shin leaves the room, her father wastes no time. He grabs her wrist weakly and asks, “Where did you meet Shin?”
“I was shopping, and he was lost. He started following me, and I can't just let him know...”
Her father's alertness takes on a sharper edge. “Did I ever tell you how your mother, how she went?”
The sudden change in subject takes Nao aback for a little bit. Why talk about her mother all of a sudden? But Nao follows along. “It was an accident, right? A car hit her while she was in the crosswalk.”
He tilts his head slightly. “Yes, but no.” He leans back in his bed and smiles. His voice, as always is slow and gravelly, always more so the few times he talks about her mother. “You resemble your mother so much, very pretty, but more importantly very kind and always wanting to help others.” Nao has heard this many times. It's been a common refrain from her father all through her childhood and adolescence.
What she hasn't heard is what he says next: “On the day she died, a young boy had been walking in a street when it seemed that an oncoming car would hit him. She jumped out and protected him. They were both hospitalized. The boy was in a coma for four days, but he miraculously pulled through. Your mother was not so lucky. I swear that boy looks exactly like him. But that would be impossible wouldn't it? Just my muddled brain bringing up the past.”
“Of course it would be.” Nao asks, grateful that Shin has not come back with the drinks, or else she'd have a huge puddle of liquid to clean up and an empty can. “Do you know the name of the boy?”
“Akiyama Shinichi. He would have been that boy's age when it happened.”
Nao tears up. What should she tell her father? Or Akiyama? Or Shin? Her father wouldn't lie to her about this, especially if he doesn't even know that she has an Akiyama Shinichi who is a very important part of her life. And he doesn't because she's been good about keeping the worrisome secret from him. “I see. It's probably just someone who resembles him.” She forces a smile.
Shin decides to walk into the room then, and Nao gets no time to react before she has to force a smile. “Here's your coffee, sir.” The cup of coffee gets handed to Nao's father, while the green tea goes to Nao. Shin keeps a can of juice for himself. The change goes into Nao's hand.
“I said not to worry about the change, Shin-kun.”
“My mother said,” Shin says very quietly, “that I should live an honest life. It wouldn't be very nice to keep your change, Nao-san. However...” he gives a smirk that's so familiar it makes her heart ache a little bit to see it on such a young face, “I'd be happy to earn it back by beating you in a game of chess.”
“You're on! I used to play my father everyday for years!” Nao pushes her sleeves up past her elbows, and starts setting up the pieces.
It's a close game, but Nao still loses the change from that bill.
Akiyama arrives home-well, at Nao's place, which is about ten-thousand times more homey than his own beat up room-to a very subdued Shin reading a manga of Nao's, an a very, very quiet Nao making chicken curry over the stove.
“I'm back.” Akiyama says,
“Welcome back.” Nao returns. “I just started dinner, so you'll have enough time for a shower, if you want one.”
While a shower does sound good, something is wrong. The atmosphere feels more subdued here than last night. Both Nao and Shin are tense. Did something happen to her father? From listening to Nao, Akiyama knows that the man is very sick, but she'd given no indication that he'd been that close to death.
“How'd the visit with your father go?” He prepares for the worst.
She gives a forced smile. “Pretty well. My father was happy to have another visitor, and we all played chess for a bit. It was fun.”
Shin closes the book. “Her father's really old and sick, but I couldn't beat him at chess at all. I did win against Nao though. Do you play, Akiyama-san?”
Akiyama remembers playing just a couple games. For some reason, the thought of the western version of chess, the wooden pieces in the shape of an army, the castles, knights, and bishops, brings an unpleasant feeling to his stomach. He can't recall if his younger self had any aversion to the game, but if so, the feeling is subdued in Shin. “I prefer Go or Shogi.”
“It was pretty fun. I had a knack for it.”
Akiyama smirks. “I see.” Of course his younger self would have a talent for anything strategic, he reasons.
“It would be an interesting match to see,” Nao says, completely out of the blue, “Akiyama-san and Shin-kun head to head. I don't think we have a chess board here though.”
To be honest, Akiyama doesn't want to play. “You have a Shogi board? Or a deck of cards? We can teach Shin-kun how to play poker. That'll be useful for him to know.”
“Oh, so you're a gambler now?” Shin asks.
The aroma from Nao's cooking starts to waft through the room. “Shin-kun's the one who played a chess game for money.”
“Yeah, but I earned it,” Shin reasons, “Chess is a strategy game. Poker's just luck.”
“You think so? If it's luck, then each of us should win an even amount of times, right? Since we're all using the same cards and distributing them randomly.”
“Yeah.”
“So then, if I beat you soundly at poker tonight, it won't be because of luck.”
Shin appears to consider this, and Akiyama realizes that he knows exactly what his younger self would think in this situation.
“And if I beat you soundly in poker, that won't be because of luck either.”
Nao plates the food and sets three spots at the table. “So then, what happens if I win against you both?”
Akiyama tries to picture Nao playing poker and winning. He can't see it. Not unless angels come down and bless her with good cards, and then tell her how to keep them without letting her opponents know the hands she holds. “That-that's impossible.” He finally stammers out.
Akiyama takes most of the wins, and Nao-surprisingly good at regular poker-takes most of the rest, leaving Shin with the scraps. Shin goes to bed sullen and sulky. Of course, Akiyama reasons, he's always hated losing, especially to himself. Too bad that he recognizes every single one of Shin's tells from his own childhood.
“Akiyama-san,” Nao says, after Shin has rested for awhile. “I think I figured out why Shin is here.”
Huh? Nao's figured out time-travel? Has he somehow unknowingly protected the next Einstein all this time?
“Well...not scientifically or anything,” Nao corrects herself, as though reading her mind. “But I think I know the cause even if I can't explain why.”
“Akiyama-san, do you ever remember being in an accident when you were Shin's age? There had been a speeding car, and you were in a crosswalk.”
Akiyama closes his eyes. When Nao says the words, he can hear the sounds of tires screeching, the call of voices. Pain. Disorientation. A period of time in his life that becomes little more than a fog. “Just barely. How would you know about that?”
Nao's hands, holding the cup of tea, tremble. Unusually quiet tonight, she suddenly slumps over with an extra weight on her shoulders.
He should have lied, he thinks. He should backtrack and tell her there was no accident. Memory is unreliable.
Nao speaks up before he can deny anything. “My father told me. When you were about Shin's age, you were in the crosswalk when a speeding car seemed to be on the path to hit you. A woman tackled you and shielded you with her body. My mother witnessed the whole thing. According to my father, you were unconscious for four days, but you finally woke up and made a full recovery.”
“What happened to the woman?” He knows, and hears the story that Nao tries not to tell, that her mother was not a witness at all.
“She went to the hospital with the boy but they couldn't do anything for her...”
Of course, Akiyama thinks. If he believed in superstition, he'd believe that any kind-hearted woman was doomed to die because of him. “It was stupid of her to protect me at the cost of her own life.” His stomach weighs down with guilt.
Nao shakes her head. “I don't think so at all. She was probably thinking of her own child in that same situation and doing what she hoped a stranger would have done for her. Protecting you, protecting anybody isn't stupid at all.”
“What about her own family? Would they agree?” Akiyama knows. Why is that he almost wants Nao to blame him? Or if not Nao, then her father. But she won't. He knows her. Look at what he's already put her through with the Liar Game, and yet she still continues to believe in him as her savior.
Nao falls silent at that. When she speaks again, all pretense of the woman in question not being related to her drops. “I don't remember my mother at all. By the time I realized that she'd never come back and understood what death was, she was just a beloved stranger. My father...he loved her so much. I can't recall if he ever went on dates again. But he never said a single thing against what she did or who she saved. He would just tell me that it was important to be kind and help others, in the same way that my mother always tried to.”
“Nao...” Akiyama suddenly sees where Nao's character comes from, obviously from her father's lessons, but probably from her parents' genetics as well. She breaks down at the sound of her name and makes it a point of going around the table to cry on his shoulder. It can't be helped, he guesses, wrapping an arm around her, and letting her have her tears. Dealing with Nao is so much easier when the problem can easily be solved with the application of strategy and psychological knowledge. He's at a loss right now.
“Don't regret surviving, Akiyama-san,” Nao whispers, even as her tears wet his face and neck. Any more of this crying and he won't need a shower. “I'm always going to be glad to have met you.”
“I'll protect you,” Akiyama vows, for once holding her as tight as he wants to. “Although, if you cry much more, you might end up drowning us first.”
Nao manages to give a small smile.
“That's better,” he tells her, moving away to get that shower in, before making the-very careful and completely innocent-suggestion that he and Nao try sleeping together again.
*
Shin hears so much more than the adults give him credit for, even his future, loser self. He heard the last part of the story from outside Nao's father's room, and then the whole story tonight while he pretended to sleep.
This is the nightmare, he keeps repeating to himself. Future Akiyama and Nao are just ghosts, lies to distract him from waking up and getting back to the real world. The warmth of his mother's hands, what he used to think of as his tether in his dream, those are real. If he concentrates, the fuzzy lights of his dreams seem more real. The lights of a hospital. He hears not only the muffled voice of his mother, but the sounds of men talking, and the piercing cry of a child calling out for its mother. Machines too.
That's real, he tries to tell himself. Nao and Akiyama and home-cooking and his apartment building being torn down and playing chess with an old man, those are all dreams. The reality has to be the hospital.
He should wake up. He has to wake up.
Of course, when he opens his eyes, he's still back in the apartment with Nao and his future self. Both of them spread across the floor on the same blanket from yesterday. Akiyama lays on his side, facing Nao, and she uses his arm as a pillow again.
Maybe, Shin thinks, he just needs to see his mother again to end this nightmare. If he's already this old-twenty-eight years, practically ancient-then his mother must be old enough to retire now. If his future self had been smart enough to get a decent paying job, that is. Even if Shin couldn't tell her who he was, of course his mother would recognize him. He'd promise her that he'd do better, and everything will be fine. He can go back to his own time, where there was no accident, where Nao's mother never did anything to save his life, and all these illusions will just go away.
“Nao-san, Akiyama-san! We're going to see mom today, right?”
Two groggy adults wake up. “Shin-kun...” Nao rubs the sleep from her eyes.
“Oi.”
“We're going to see my mom today, right?”
His past self closes his eyes, but not from sleep. “Yes, we'll go see Mom today.”
Shin guess that he'll find out for sure what really happened. More and more he's sure that both Nao and Akiyama are keeping something important from him.
They won't keep it from him anymore.
And then he'll go home.
Fandom: Liar Game
Characters: Nao, Akiyama
Rating: T
Summary: Nao finds a strangely familiar boy, and she and Akiyama discover a connection in their past that goes much deeper than they originally thought.
Notes: Part 3 of 5. Read 1 and 2.
So, the secret is out, Nao thinks. Not that she can imagine keeping anything secret from any version of Akiyama Shinichi.
“Why did I grow up to be such a loser?”
She defends Akiyama reflexively. “Akiyama-san is not a--”
Akiyama interrupts her. “It's a fair question.” His voice barely rises above a whisper. He looks stoic enough, but after watching Akiyama in so many situations, she hears the tension in his voice, and knows his expression as the one he uses to block out pain. Shin's words hit their target much deeper than he can know right now. “One that he needs to see for himself. I have the day off tomorrow. We'll to the aquarium, and then we'll visit my mother. ”
Nao looks at him, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
He shrugs. “It needs done.”
“Umm...do you want me to come along?”
Akiyama's gaze drills into her. Nao suddenly realizes that while she does know Akiyama's past-or a version of it consistent with his behavior-Akiyama doesn't know that she knows. Nor did he ever tell her. Even just asking, indicates that Nao knows something, right? She should have waited for an invitation, or some instructions.
“Whatever you want to do.” Akiyama says while lacing his boots. “What are you going to do with Shin today?”
“I don't have class,” Nao says, “So I'm going to visit my father. Between the Liar Game, and school and everything, I've really neglected him. I'll take Shin with me. My dad will enjoy the extra company.”
“Fine.” Akiyama grabs his hat. “I'll come over for dinner. And we can work more on finding out how to send Shin home. Later.”
“Good-bye, Akiyama-san. I'll see you tonight.”
*
Her father's reaction to Shin is not what Nao imagined it to be. Her normally cheerful, sleepy, easygoing father sees Shin and instantly becomes alert. Perhaps she only imagines the vague shake of his head.
“Nao-chan?”
“Father.” Nao sets down the little plate of sweets that she made for him and the other patients on the nightstand. “You seem very awake today.”
“That's because you're here. And I see you've brought a visitor.”
“This is Shin-kun. I'm looking after him for a little bit.”
“Ahh-for a second he looked familiar. Maybe a cousin of yours or something.” He knows as well as Nao does that there are no cousins in their family, at least not any that are as young as Shin. “It must be the imagination of an old man. Do you play chess, Shin-kun?”
Nao goes to the shelf where her father keeps his trusted game board, the one that has seen thousands of games between father and daughter, and even more among her father and his friends. Nao knows her father at least was an incredible player, and she would bet a small sum, less than 100 million, that Shin would know how to play well, or at least could pick up the game very quickly.
“I've never played before, sir.” Shin's voice is very quiet, different from both his demeanor with Akiyama or herself.
“It's very simple to learn,” the elder Kanzaki says, as Nao sets up the chess pieces for him. “Nao can explain the rules, and then she can help move the pieces for me.”
“Please try your hardest.” Nao smiles.
Her father wins the game, of course. In the course of watching him play for as long as she can remember, Nao never once actually recalls a game where he lost to any opponent. But, as Nao suspects, Shin grasps the concept and strategy of chess incredibly quickly, and the game is much closer than she'd suspect.
“You did well, Shin-kun. Nao, give him some money to buy us drinks.”
Nao opens her wallet and gives Shin a 1000 yen bill.
“I'd like some coffee. No cream, lots of sugar.”
“Dad, your heart-are you sure?”
“I'll be fine Nao. Tell Shin-kun what you want.”
“Oh...just some green tea would be fine. Get anything you want, and don't worry about the rest.”
When Shin leaves the room, her father wastes no time. He grabs her wrist weakly and asks, “Where did you meet Shin?”
“I was shopping, and he was lost. He started following me, and I can't just let him know...”
Her father's alertness takes on a sharper edge. “Did I ever tell you how your mother, how she went?”
The sudden change in subject takes Nao aback for a little bit. Why talk about her mother all of a sudden? But Nao follows along. “It was an accident, right? A car hit her while she was in the crosswalk.”
He tilts his head slightly. “Yes, but no.” He leans back in his bed and smiles. His voice, as always is slow and gravelly, always more so the few times he talks about her mother. “You resemble your mother so much, very pretty, but more importantly very kind and always wanting to help others.” Nao has heard this many times. It's been a common refrain from her father all through her childhood and adolescence.
What she hasn't heard is what he says next: “On the day she died, a young boy had been walking in a street when it seemed that an oncoming car would hit him. She jumped out and protected him. They were both hospitalized. The boy was in a coma for four days, but he miraculously pulled through. Your mother was not so lucky. I swear that boy looks exactly like him. But that would be impossible wouldn't it? Just my muddled brain bringing up the past.”
“Of course it would be.” Nao asks, grateful that Shin has not come back with the drinks, or else she'd have a huge puddle of liquid to clean up and an empty can. “Do you know the name of the boy?”
“Akiyama Shinichi. He would have been that boy's age when it happened.”
Nao tears up. What should she tell her father? Or Akiyama? Or Shin? Her father wouldn't lie to her about this, especially if he doesn't even know that she has an Akiyama Shinichi who is a very important part of her life. And he doesn't because she's been good about keeping the worrisome secret from him. “I see. It's probably just someone who resembles him.” She forces a smile.
Shin decides to walk into the room then, and Nao gets no time to react before she has to force a smile. “Here's your coffee, sir.” The cup of coffee gets handed to Nao's father, while the green tea goes to Nao. Shin keeps a can of juice for himself. The change goes into Nao's hand.
“I said not to worry about the change, Shin-kun.”
“My mother said,” Shin says very quietly, “that I should live an honest life. It wouldn't be very nice to keep your change, Nao-san. However...” he gives a smirk that's so familiar it makes her heart ache a little bit to see it on such a young face, “I'd be happy to earn it back by beating you in a game of chess.”
“You're on! I used to play my father everyday for years!” Nao pushes her sleeves up past her elbows, and starts setting up the pieces.
It's a close game, but Nao still loses the change from that bill.
Akiyama arrives home-well, at Nao's place, which is about ten-thousand times more homey than his own beat up room-to a very subdued Shin reading a manga of Nao's, an a very, very quiet Nao making chicken curry over the stove.
“I'm back.” Akiyama says,
“Welcome back.” Nao returns. “I just started dinner, so you'll have enough time for a shower, if you want one.”
While a shower does sound good, something is wrong. The atmosphere feels more subdued here than last night. Both Nao and Shin are tense. Did something happen to her father? From listening to Nao, Akiyama knows that the man is very sick, but she'd given no indication that he'd been that close to death.
“How'd the visit with your father go?” He prepares for the worst.
She gives a forced smile. “Pretty well. My father was happy to have another visitor, and we all played chess for a bit. It was fun.”
Shin closes the book. “Her father's really old and sick, but I couldn't beat him at chess at all. I did win against Nao though. Do you play, Akiyama-san?”
Akiyama remembers playing just a couple games. For some reason, the thought of the western version of chess, the wooden pieces in the shape of an army, the castles, knights, and bishops, brings an unpleasant feeling to his stomach. He can't recall if his younger self had any aversion to the game, but if so, the feeling is subdued in Shin. “I prefer Go or Shogi.”
“It was pretty fun. I had a knack for it.”
Akiyama smirks. “I see.” Of course his younger self would have a talent for anything strategic, he reasons.
“It would be an interesting match to see,” Nao says, completely out of the blue, “Akiyama-san and Shin-kun head to head. I don't think we have a chess board here though.”
To be honest, Akiyama doesn't want to play. “You have a Shogi board? Or a deck of cards? We can teach Shin-kun how to play poker. That'll be useful for him to know.”
“Oh, so you're a gambler now?” Shin asks.
The aroma from Nao's cooking starts to waft through the room. “Shin-kun's the one who played a chess game for money.”
“Yeah, but I earned it,” Shin reasons, “Chess is a strategy game. Poker's just luck.”
“You think so? If it's luck, then each of us should win an even amount of times, right? Since we're all using the same cards and distributing them randomly.”
“Yeah.”
“So then, if I beat you soundly at poker tonight, it won't be because of luck.”
Shin appears to consider this, and Akiyama realizes that he knows exactly what his younger self would think in this situation.
“And if I beat you soundly in poker, that won't be because of luck either.”
Nao plates the food and sets three spots at the table. “So then, what happens if I win against you both?”
Akiyama tries to picture Nao playing poker and winning. He can't see it. Not unless angels come down and bless her with good cards, and then tell her how to keep them without letting her opponents know the hands she holds. “That-that's impossible.” He finally stammers out.
Akiyama takes most of the wins, and Nao-surprisingly good at regular poker-takes most of the rest, leaving Shin with the scraps. Shin goes to bed sullen and sulky. Of course, Akiyama reasons, he's always hated losing, especially to himself. Too bad that he recognizes every single one of Shin's tells from his own childhood.
“Akiyama-san,” Nao says, after Shin has rested for awhile. “I think I figured out why Shin is here.”
Huh? Nao's figured out time-travel? Has he somehow unknowingly protected the next Einstein all this time?
“Well...not scientifically or anything,” Nao corrects herself, as though reading her mind. “But I think I know the cause even if I can't explain why.”
“Akiyama-san, do you ever remember being in an accident when you were Shin's age? There had been a speeding car, and you were in a crosswalk.”
Akiyama closes his eyes. When Nao says the words, he can hear the sounds of tires screeching, the call of voices. Pain. Disorientation. A period of time in his life that becomes little more than a fog. “Just barely. How would you know about that?”
Nao's hands, holding the cup of tea, tremble. Unusually quiet tonight, she suddenly slumps over with an extra weight on her shoulders.
He should have lied, he thinks. He should backtrack and tell her there was no accident. Memory is unreliable.
Nao speaks up before he can deny anything. “My father told me. When you were about Shin's age, you were in the crosswalk when a speeding car seemed to be on the path to hit you. A woman tackled you and shielded you with her body. My mother witnessed the whole thing. According to my father, you were unconscious for four days, but you finally woke up and made a full recovery.”
“What happened to the woman?” He knows, and hears the story that Nao tries not to tell, that her mother was not a witness at all.
“She went to the hospital with the boy but they couldn't do anything for her...”
Of course, Akiyama thinks. If he believed in superstition, he'd believe that any kind-hearted woman was doomed to die because of him. “It was stupid of her to protect me at the cost of her own life.” His stomach weighs down with guilt.
Nao shakes her head. “I don't think so at all. She was probably thinking of her own child in that same situation and doing what she hoped a stranger would have done for her. Protecting you, protecting anybody isn't stupid at all.”
“What about her own family? Would they agree?” Akiyama knows. Why is that he almost wants Nao to blame him? Or if not Nao, then her father. But she won't. He knows her. Look at what he's already put her through with the Liar Game, and yet she still continues to believe in him as her savior.
Nao falls silent at that. When she speaks again, all pretense of the woman in question not being related to her drops. “I don't remember my mother at all. By the time I realized that she'd never come back and understood what death was, she was just a beloved stranger. My father...he loved her so much. I can't recall if he ever went on dates again. But he never said a single thing against what she did or who she saved. He would just tell me that it was important to be kind and help others, in the same way that my mother always tried to.”
“Nao...” Akiyama suddenly sees where Nao's character comes from, obviously from her father's lessons, but probably from her parents' genetics as well. She breaks down at the sound of her name and makes it a point of going around the table to cry on his shoulder. It can't be helped, he guesses, wrapping an arm around her, and letting her have her tears. Dealing with Nao is so much easier when the problem can easily be solved with the application of strategy and psychological knowledge. He's at a loss right now.
“Don't regret surviving, Akiyama-san,” Nao whispers, even as her tears wet his face and neck. Any more of this crying and he won't need a shower. “I'm always going to be glad to have met you.”
“I'll protect you,” Akiyama vows, for once holding her as tight as he wants to. “Although, if you cry much more, you might end up drowning us first.”
Nao manages to give a small smile.
“That's better,” he tells her, moving away to get that shower in, before making the-very careful and completely innocent-suggestion that he and Nao try sleeping together again.
*
Shin hears so much more than the adults give him credit for, even his future, loser self. He heard the last part of the story from outside Nao's father's room, and then the whole story tonight while he pretended to sleep.
This is the nightmare, he keeps repeating to himself. Future Akiyama and Nao are just ghosts, lies to distract him from waking up and getting back to the real world. The warmth of his mother's hands, what he used to think of as his tether in his dream, those are real. If he concentrates, the fuzzy lights of his dreams seem more real. The lights of a hospital. He hears not only the muffled voice of his mother, but the sounds of men talking, and the piercing cry of a child calling out for its mother. Machines too.
That's real, he tries to tell himself. Nao and Akiyama and home-cooking and his apartment building being torn down and playing chess with an old man, those are all dreams. The reality has to be the hospital.
He should wake up. He has to wake up.
Of course, when he opens his eyes, he's still back in the apartment with Nao and his future self. Both of them spread across the floor on the same blanket from yesterday. Akiyama lays on his side, facing Nao, and she uses his arm as a pillow again.
Maybe, Shin thinks, he just needs to see his mother again to end this nightmare. If he's already this old-twenty-eight years, practically ancient-then his mother must be old enough to retire now. If his future self had been smart enough to get a decent paying job, that is. Even if Shin couldn't tell her who he was, of course his mother would recognize him. He'd promise her that he'd do better, and everything will be fine. He can go back to his own time, where there was no accident, where Nao's mother never did anything to save his life, and all these illusions will just go away.
“Nao-san, Akiyama-san! We're going to see mom today, right?”
Two groggy adults wake up. “Shin-kun...” Nao rubs the sleep from her eyes.
“Oi.”
“We're going to see my mom today, right?”
His past self closes his eyes, but not from sleep. “Yes, we'll go see Mom today.”
Shin guess that he'll find out for sure what really happened. More and more he's sure that both Nao and Akiyama are keeping something important from him.
They won't keep it from him anymore.
And then he'll go home.