“Help! Help us!” Ren shouted at the top of his lungs, tears gushing nonstop, his voice cracking and becoming increasingly inaudible to Yuki’s ears.
“Yuki! Yuki! Please don’t leave me. Yuki!”
He prayed that his voice would reach Yuki, wherever his mind and soul had wandered off to. Carefully, he laid Yuki on the road. When he noticed blood oozing from Yuki’s back, he quickly sat him down and applied pressure to the wound from behind.
As he grasped the severity of the situation, the trauma began to overwhelm him. He teared up again while drifting in and out of consciousness. The neighbors rushed to the scene when they heard Ren’s voice. One called an ambulance, while another notified Yuki’s family.
Yuki’s parents galloped out of the house. At this point, Ren had already been overcome by the fear of losing Yuki. He plunged into complete silence, unable to perceive the growing crowd around him. His eyes were wide open, and his body was stiff, but his mind had shut down.
Finally, the ambulance arrived. It had taken about fifteen minutes to get to the scene. The responders quickly set up the stretcher. They managed to save both boys but struggled to pry Yuki out of Ren’s tight embrace. Mito boarded the ambulance with them while Masato stayed behind to inform Ren’s parents. They all convened at the hospital.
“Ren!”
Yuki instinctively screamed as he jerked out of sleep. The rapid pounding in his chest decelerated upon realizing it was all just a bad dream. There was no boogeyman under the lamppost, and he hadn’t been stabbed.
Sunlight streamed through the gaps in Yuki’s windows, bathing half of his bedroom in its warm glow. He rose from his bed, tidied the sheets, and drew back the curtains to let more light and breeze in. As he descended the stairs, an unusual stillness enveloped the house. Yuki’s family wasn’t particularly loud, but he couldn’t recall a time when their home was so tranquil.
Maybe they left early. Yuki’s mother was probably in the garden, sweeping fallen ginkgo leaves off the lawn. He went out to check, but no one was there. Before returning inside, Yuki noticed something peculiar in his peripheral vision.
Across the street, there was a park, which he didn’t remember ever seeing there. He was certain there was a two-story house on that plot of land. Yuki went out into the street to investigate. Even though this park wasn’t supposed to be there, it looked strangely familiar. He had seen it before. He just couldn’t remember when or how. Then, out of nowhere, two figures appeared. One was Ren, and the other was a girl unfamiliar to him. They were hugging like a couple in love.
Yuki felt a tightness in his chest, which quickly climbed up to his throat, forcing tears from his eyes. The sight seemed to have reopened an old wound he didn’t realize still existed. Yet, he had a feeling that he’d been in this situation before, many times, like déjà vu. Tears blurred Yuki’s vision until all he could see was haze.
The next time light managed to break through, the first thing he saw was his mother’s smiling face. He had finally woken up. The doctor said Yuki was fortunate the knife hadn’t struck a vital organ, and his loss of consciousness was solely due to the trauma.
When their assailant tried to stab Ren, and Yuki jumped between them, he instinctively pulled back, preventing the knife from piercing through completely, but the wound was deep enough to affect Yuki’s mobility. Unlike him, Ren had no serious injuries, but the shock knocked him unconscious. He woke up a few hours later and was discharged from the hospital immediately.
“How are you feeling?” Mito asked Yuki while tenderly holding his right hand.
“I’m feeling better. Is Ren alright?” Yuki inquired while pushing himself up the headboard.
“He’s fine. He has no serious injuries, just a few bruises and scratches. But he was crying heavily when we found you two,” explained Yuki’s mother.
“I see. That’s great, then. When can I go home, ‘kaasan?”
“Soon. Just focus on recovering. We’ll take care of the rest.”
“Hai. Arigato, ‘kaasan.”
Ginkgo or Ginkgo Biloba (いちょう): ancient species of tree known for its fan-shaped leaves
Hai (はい): yes
