And so I live on in this town,
Chasing after your back,
Which knows no place to rest.
I suppose this is all I can do.
The rest... is just waiting for you.
Tanoue finished the song. For a while, the only sounds were the scratching of Ms. Akasaka's pen on paper from the other side of the curtain and Tachyon's steady breathing.
"Tachyon?" he whispered. He leaned over to check if she was asleep, but at that moment, the curtain snapped open.
"She's out," Ms. Akasaka said. Tanoue jerked back into his seat, startled.
The nurse looked at him with a complicated expression. "…Tanoue. Do you… actually love her?"
The question didn't register at first. But as the meaning sank in, his heart began to pound violently. His mind went blank. He tried to speak, but his mouth was like sand. The silence only made his panic worse. He couldn't even recognize the person standing in front of him.
Ms. Akasaka was taken aback. She had meant it as a half-joke, expecting him to laugh it off, but his reaction was a full-blown panic attack.
"It—it was a joke! Just a joke! You don't have to look so terrified," she said, reaching out to steady him.
It took several minutes of her speaking calmly and patting his shoulder for Tanoue's breathing to return to normal. Even then, the unease remained. He stole a glance at Tachyon, sleeping with her face flushed from the fever. She looked beautiful, but he couldn't bear to look at her. He turned to the nurse.
"I'm going home," he said, his voice completely hollow.
Ms. Akasaka could only mutter a vague "Oh…" as he hurried out.
Tanoue didn't remember the rest of his day. Kirishima and his other friends spoke to him, looking worried, but he couldn't remember a word they said. All he remembered was falling onto his bed in the dorms, his chest feeling so tight he could barely breathe.
He lay there in the dark, staring at his phone. He didn't turn on the lights. He didn't eat. He couldn't bring himself to cook or face the cafeteria. Eventually, he fell into a restless, fitful sleep.
He had a nightmare. He dreamed that earthworms were burrowing out through his skin—from his arms, his legs, his neck, his cheeks. He tried desperately to kill them, but they wouldn't die. They fell to the ground and then crawled right back into his body through his feet.
"Help me!" he screamed. He tried to run, but the worms were everywhere. He eventually found himself in a room he recognized from somewhere, huddled in a corner with his knees to his chest. He stopped trying to fight them. He just endured the pain, waiting for someone—anyone—to help. But only the flickering neon signs from the street outside answered him. He woke up sobbing.
He felt terrible. His head throbbed, and he was burning up with a fever. He tried to think about the dream, but his mind was too cloudy. Thirsty, he dragged himself to the sink for water. The cool water helped slightly, but he was still miserable. He collapsed back onto the bed just as his alarm went off.
I have to go to school, he thought. I have to see Tachyon. But his body wouldn't move. He rolled off the bed onto the cold hardwood floor. It felt good against his skin, but the floor soon warmed to his body temperature. He lay there, unmoving, as the hours ticked by. He heard someone knocking on his door, calling his name, but the sound didn't reach his soul.
When he finally opened his eyes, he saw a ceiling he didn't quite recognize. It wasn't his room. Looking at the surrounding curtains, he realized: The infirmary.
His throat was parched. "Water," he croaked, though it was barely a whisper.
The curtains pulled back, and he winced at the bright morning sunlight.
"You're awake? That was quick," Ms. Akasaka said.
"Water," he repeated. She brought him a cup, and he drank it greedily.
"How's the fever?" she asked. He shook his head. He didn't want to talk. He was terrified that if he opened his mouth, his secrets would spill out.
Ms. Akasaka looked at him with an unreadable expression. "Tachyon is sleeping in the next bed."
"Is she still sick?" Tanoue asked before he could stop himself.
"Her fever broke this morning, but it's still over 37 degrees, so I told her to stay put. …She was worried sick when they brought you in. She was muttering things in her sleep."
Tanoue hesitated, then asked, "Is she… right there?"
"Yes. She'll probably wake up soon. She hasn't eaten anything. Do you want something?"
He shook his head. He had no appetite.
"Alright. Rest then. I'll close the curtains."
"Don't," Tanoue said. "Leave them open."
Ms. Akasaka smiled softly. "Alright."
Tanoue lay there, staring at the morning light, the cooling sheet on his forehead the only thing grounding him. As he drifted in and out of a daze, he thought of his mother—how she had withered away from illness, yet never stopped smiling. He cried silently. Then he thought of a girl from middle school who had laughed at his confession of love while her boyfriend watched. He felt a surge of ancient, bitter hatred.
"Just die," a voice said.
He jumped, realizing the voice had been so clear it felt real. Then he realized it had been his own voice—or perhaps a dream. He looked at Ms. Akasaka, but she was busy at her desk, unmoving.
"Trainer-kun?" a faint whisper came from behind the curtain. It was Tachyon. "You seem to be having a nightmare. Are you alright?"
Tanoue didn't answer. He just stared at the ceiling until he fell back into a heavy sleep.
When he woke again, he heard a girl's voice—loud and excited, getting shushed by the nurse. It was midday. His head still throbbed. He was hungry now, despite himself. He called for the nurse.
Ms. Akasaka came over, but so did Tachyon. She peeked around the curtain. "Hey there. How are you feeling?"
"Tachyon," Tanoue said, his face darkening as he remembered the previous day.
"What's wrong? Don't look at me like that," she said, her voice tinged with sadness.
Tanoue turned away, shaking his head. Confused and hurt, Tachyon retreated back behind the curtain. Ms. Akasaka watched the exchange with pity but didn't comment. She brought him some porridge, which he ate in silence.
As he ate, guilt began to gnaw at him for pushing Tachyon away. He still thought she was beautiful, but she also terrified him. He didn't want to see what was hidden inside her—or inside himself. He fell back into a dreamless, heavy sleep.
When he woke for the last time, it was evening. He felt a desperate, overwhelming urge to go home. He wanted to cry, to wail like a child, but he couldn't do it while Tachyon was there. But before he could check if she was gone, the tears came anyway.
He sobbed openly in the quiet infirmary. He wanted to go back to the days when his mother was alive—to the warm spring sun and the yellow flowers.
The door opened. Footsteps approached the curtain.
"Tanoue?"
It was Ms. Akasaka. He tried to stop, but he couldn't. He curled into a ball, turning his back to her.
"Tanoue? Why are you crying?"
He just shook his head, buried in his blankets.
"Should I go get Tachyon?" she asked.
"No! Stop!" He sat up and grabbed her hand, his eyes wild. "Don't!"
She gently pulled her hand away. "Why? What is it?"
"I just… I want to go home," he sobbed.
"Where?"
"To my mother's arms. I want to disappear. Back to those days."
He lay back down and turned away from her. "Please… just go away."
Ms. Akasaka sighed, looked at him for a long moment, and then left the room.
She walked straight to Tachyon's research lab. She and Tanoue were friends, and she couldn't stand to see him in such pain. She needed to know what was driving this breakdown.
She burst into the lab. "Tachyon. What do you know about Tanoue?"
"Hmm? Data on his running speed? Stamina?"
"No, his past."
"His past? He doesn't like to talk about it. He's twenty-five; that's a lot of history."
"His mother, then. And don't tell him I asked. It would hurt him."
Tachyon thought for a moment, her hand on her chin. "His mother? I only know she died of an illness when he was young. I don't know what kind."
Ms. Akasaka nodded grimly.
"Did something happen?" Tachyon asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
"He was crying," Akasaka said softly. "He said he wanted to go back to 'those days.' To his mother's arms."
"Is it simple loneliness? A lack of affection?"
"I don't know," the nurse replied. "It feels like something much heavier. Keep this between us."
She left the lab and returned to the infirmary. Tanoue was still asleep, exactly as she had left him. She sighed, reached out, and switched on the lights.