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May/December	By : thewriterwhocameinfromthecold Category: +G to L > Love Hina Views: 14880 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Love Hina or its associated characters. I am not profiting from this in any way.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
A call for her? She looked at Motoko, who shrugged. Something in the man's voice made her start to tense as she asked, "From whom?"
The man consulted a slip of paper. "He identified himself as a Dr. Ryo Yagami, Miss. He said he couldn't say what it was about." In response to the mounting question in her eyes, he pointed to the other end of the desk. "You may contact him using the courtesy phone over there."
Motoko watched with confusion and contained worry as Naru took the slip of paper from him with shaking hands and dialled the number inscribed upon it in impeccable handwriting. The phone rang twice before a woman answered, "Kyoto City Hospital."
Naru felt her blood run cold with a terrible dread beyond her ability to name.
"Naru?" Motoko asked.
"Hello? Hello?" The woman's voice snapped her back to reality, and she asked for Dr. Ryo Yagami in a halting voice. Every syllable felt like an effort. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Motoko worrying at the collar of her gi, while the night clerk cast sideways glances her way as he arranged papers.
She let out a sigh and Motoko asked the question with her eyes.
Naru removed the receiver from her ear so that they could both hear the Enka music emitting from it. "They've got me on hold."
Motoko winced in sympathy. Naru drummed on the desk and fiddled with the nearby rack of business cards and brochures as her mind concocted every terrible scenario she could imagine: Keitaro falling from a balcony, Shinobu hurting herself back home, Kitsune following her out here and getting injured; the list went on.
When the music stopped and a man answered, Naru felt a pain in her jaw. She'd become so tense that she'd been clenching her teeth. She identified herself and asked him the reason for his call.
There was a pause. "Ms. Narusegawa, I work in the Emergency Room here. A woman was brought in here about an hour ago."
"Oh, God." The words slipped from her lips as she sagged against the desk.
"She didn't have a wallet when she was brought in, but we found a slip of paper with your name and the name of your hotel on it."
"You don't know who she is?" Naru asked as her stomach rose and fell.
"No. I was hoping that if I describe her to you, you might be able identify her." When she didn't say anything, he said, "I understand this must be very upsetting. Would it be all right to do this now, or would you prefer to wait a while?"
"No," Naru replied. "I can handle it." A lie, but she couldn't imagine how any other time could be better.
Pictures of Kitsune, and the others flashed through her mind. Please, she begged, please let it be a mistake.
"Well," Dr. Yagami cleared his throat, "she has brown hair down to her shoulders."
That eliminated Kitsune at least. Wait, it couldn't be…
"She has a slim figure and appears to be in her early twenties."
Naru's heart skipped a beat. "Is…"
"I beg your pardon?"
She swallowed. "Is she wearing a pink blouse with a black skirt?"
There was a pause. "Yes, she is."
Oh God. Naru sobbed into her hand. "Yumi!"
"You think that you might know this woman?"
His voice sounded far away, so she didn't immediately register that he was speaking to her. To her, it felt as if the entire room were swaying. Her heart pounded in her chest as her stomach make sickening leaps and bounds.
"Yumi." Tears were running down her cheeks. She swayed and faintly registered Motoko reaching out to steady her. "Yumi Ichihara." Her voice warbled. "We were travelling together. We had each-other's names and hotels in case we got separated."
She thought she heard Yagami sigh. "Thank you Ms. Narusegawa. I know this is difficult."
"Is…" She had to force the question out. "Is she all right?"
"Do you know anyone she knew that we might be able to contact?"
Naru felt a surge of anger at the non-answer. "No. Look, just tell me if she's all right."
There was another pause. "Perhaps you'd better come down here. Do you need...?"
Naru slammed down the receiver, and, ignoring Motoko's questions, turned to meet the concerned eyes of the desk clerk.
"Could you get me a cab?"
The driver was the accommodating sort with a heavy foot. Once she mentioned a friend in the hospital, nothing could stop him, not even yellow lights. Motoko sat on the other side of her, keeping silent vigil. She had no idea, no way of knowing what was going on, but Naru had been there for her without question. She would do the same.
The driver stopped at the door to the ER, and Naru tossed him some bills without counting them as she stumbled from the cab and through the automatic door with Motoko right behind. She sidestepped around a man in a wheelchair and crashed against the reception desk.
"Yumi Ichihara." She was breathing hard. "Where is she?"
The nurse, used to seeing people in distress, reached for her phone and asked for the status of Yumi Ichihara. After a few 'uh huhs' she hung up. "I'm afraid we don't have anyone by that name."
Naru was too far gone for good manners or hospital bureaucracy. "Bullshit. I spoke to Dr. Yagami – Ryo Yagami – on the phone. Now where is she?"
"Yagami? Hold on a minute." The nurse reached for the phone again. "Paging Dr. Yagami. Dr. Ryo Yagami, please dial reception."
Every second was torture. Naru felt like her shaking knees were about to give way; that all it would take was on little push for her to collapse into a sobbing wreck. With dim awareness, she heard the phone ring. The nurse answered it, but all Naru could hear was white noise as she thought of Yumi lying somewhere in this building.
"Miss? Miss!"
Naru shook herself. "What?"
"I said Dr. Yagami will be here in a minute. Please sit down."
Naru nodded and walked past Motoko over to a nearby chair on leaden legs. She fell into her seat rather than sat, and stared with vacant eyes as the bustle of the hospital continued around her. To her right, a mother tried to comfort a moaning toddler. To her left, at the end of the row, sat a man cradling a forearm with a long gash. Everywhere around, men and women in scrubs dashed from room to room. Naru's over-stimulated mind rebelled against the activity, so she stared at her feet and tried to keep her stomach under control.
"Naru," Motoko tried to get her attention. "Naru, what's going on?"
But Naru was too far gone to answer or explain as she stared ahead. The only thing that aroused her from her stupor was a man's voice: "Ms. Narusegawa?"
She looked up to see a man wearing scrubs. He appeared to be in his late thirties and his face hadn't seen a razor in at least a day and a half.
She straightened up. "Dr. Yagami?"
He gave a quick bow. "Yes, when I heard someone was asking about Yumi Ichihara, I figured that it had to be you." He looked her over. "You're younger than I was expecting. How long have you known Ms. Ichihara?"
Naru forced herself to stand, suddenly very tired. "I don't really. We met on the train to Kyoto." She reached into her bag and removed a package of photos. She'd had them printed that morning. "Is this the woman?" she asked, thrusting a picture into his hand. "Where is she? Is she all right?"
Yagami didn't even have to say anything, but looked at the photograph. He looked up at her and nodded. "Come with me."
She asked Motoko to wait. The samurai protested, but after a pleading look she acquiesced and took a seat.
As Naru followed Dr. Yagami through the waiting room and down a hallway, he turned to say, "Ms. Ichihara was the victim of an accident."
"What do you mean?" Naru asked, digging for whatever strength she had remaining.
Yagami gave her look like he was wondering if she'd be able to take the news. "According the ambulance report, she was struck by a car. The ambulance got to her quickly and rushed her here. She was unconscious when she arrived."
"Then is she all right?" Naru demanded. "Can I see her?"
Yagami stopped walking and turned to face her.
Naru felt the same foreboding dread that she'd had when the desk clerk told her about the call. "Can I see her? Is she all right?"
Yagami shut his eyes and let out a long sad exhale. "I'm sorry."
"No…" The last of Naru's strength deserted her and she collapsed against a wall. She sobbed into her hands. Yumi, Yumi was gone. It felt like some sort of horrible nightmare.
I'm not here, she told herself. I'll shut my eyes and I'll be in my bed. Shinobu will knock on my door to tell me that breakfast is ready. When I sit down, Keitaro will be there and we'll go to cram school together. This can't possibly be real. Please, God, it just can't.
Yagami placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry. We got to her in plenty of time. We did everything we could, but she…" Something caught in his throat, and she looked up see an echo of her own pain. Something about Yumi's death had touched him.
Naru sagged against his chest and wept. He held until her tears ran dry and her shivering stopped. She was sure people were looking at them as they passed, but she couldn't begin to care. Not while Yumi was lying there…
"Did she suffer?" she asked, pulling back.
"She would have lost consciousness almost immediately and she never woke up again." He gave her a smile that said he knew how hollow this sort comfort was. "I imagine she hardly felt it."
Naru rubbed at her eyes. "That's something I guess."
He suggested that they get some tea and she followed him to the on call room. She sat down on the cot against the wall as he turned on the electric kettle.
"Do you feel all right now?" he asked.
She nodded. "A little shaky. It doesn't seem real."
He gave her a sympathetic look. "A common reaction. If you start to feel unwell, put your head between your knees. It can help." He knelt down beside her and asked if she was willing answer questions, and when she nodded he asked if Yumi had mentioned friends or family. Naru told him about Yumi's business trip and that she'd been hoping to hear from someone.
When she was done speaking, Yagami handed her a cup of tea. "Thank you, you've been very helpful. We'll put feelers out to Tokyo. It shouldn't be too difficult to locate her company or her apartment at the very least."
Naru sipped her tea. "Is that how things go when this happens?"
"Yeah. Hopefully we'll be able to locate family. It's never easy when these things drag on.
Naru snapped her fingers, suddenly remembering. "I think she said something about her family being in Nagano."
"Really?" Yagami drank his tea. "Well that helps a bit. We'll have to try to find the father too, assuming he's in the picture."
Naru blinked. "Father?"
Yagami froze, realising he'd said too much.
Naru leaned forward. "Please tell me. What do you mean?"
Yagami looked away and cleared his throat. "It's not certain yet. We'll have to do" – he stumbled over the word – "an examination to be sure, but preliminary findings suggest that Ms. Ichihara was pregnant."
Motoko, unlike many, liked hospitals. They reminded her of Uncle Shiro, of his white coat which had always felt smooth against her cheek as a little girl. She thought of him now as she tried to ignore the pounding of her heart and the disarray of the waiting room.
"Hospitals are places of healing," Shiro would tell her as a little girl, "places of respect for both the living and the dead. You are always safe here."
She remembered one time when she was about seven, when Mother and Father had brought her sisters and her to visit Uncle Shiro in Nagasaki. She had watched Shiro as he spoke with his patients in that voice that always soothed her. You will be all right, his voice told them; you will be all right because I am with you.
She wished Naru could hear that voice now as her thoughts turned to the letter in her pocket. Even if his name hadn't been on it, she'd have known it was him from the moment she read the first word, 'Butterfly'. No one else had ever called her that, save Father. I know it hurts, Butterfly. I know how frightened you are of that place, but your sisters need you. Your mother needs you.
She caressed the paper through her pants. He was the only man who could ever get away with such frankness.
"I'm sorry, Uncle. I just…"
The words died on her lips as Naru emerged from behind the doors of the ward, held steady by Dr. Yagami. Her eyes were red and face ashen as she walked with leaden legs.
"Naru." Motoko raced to her side. "Are you all right."
Like a puppet with cut strings, Naru fell against her friend. Her voice was hoarse, "Take me back."
The cab ride back was silent. Motoko held Naru's hand and watched as her friends tears glistened in the street lamp light, but refused to fall. She searched for something to say, but what could she say? Who was this Yumi, and why was Naru so upset about her? When they got back to the hotel, Naru collapsed into the nearest chair, and Motoko, not wanting to be away from her, asked the desk clerk to bring her a phone. She called the only person she could think of; the only person who understood Naru inside and out.
"Hey, Motoko." Kitsune's drawl – even though it had always grated on Motoko's exacting sensibilities – sounded comforting amid the chaos. "What's up?"
"I am here with Naru. There has been an incident." What else could she call it?
"What do you mean?" Kitsune sounded suspicious. When Motoko explained what little she knew, the suspicion had given way to full blown fear. "Jesus. You're sure she's all right?"
Motoko looked at Naru, staring off into space. "As all right as one can be. Kitsune…" She swallowed. "I do not know what to do."
Kitsune let out a sigh pregnant with the frustration of being miles away. "Just make sure to stay with her. God, if only Keitaro were here."
"Where is he?"
"Wait a minute. He left an address with us a couple days ago. Said that a woman named Sachiko recommended it to him. Let me check."
Motoko waited. Then, as Kitsune read out the information, the cool collected warrior woman fought to keep from laughing.
Keitaro sipped his sake and listened to the bustle outside his window. Today was the day. He imagined Aoyama family dressed in black, walking single file towards the grave. He imagined Kamina, his other self, his comrade in lost love, presiding over the affair, watching first hand the hold his dead friend still held over the woman he adored. He imagined Kamina's competing loves tearing him apart as he stood and watched. For a second, he saw with Kamina's eyes and watched as Sachiko knelt down to lay incense before her husband; watched her thread the prayer beads through her fingers as she spoke loving words to the man who was no longer there, but with her always. He could see in her eyes her desire to kiss the stone, but knew that she was far too proper to ever break down that way, especially with her girls watching.
Then he would hold her hand as she stood back and watched as each girl approached the stone and said something loving and wonderful. He would squeeze her hand, and she his; and they would walk back together that way, heads held high until they reached the car. Then they would do whatever it was they did on that day – a meal, a day trip, a long conversation, something – until at long last the girls had all gone to bed, and the prim and proper mother could be a woman again. She would cling to his chest and weep until there was nothing left; and he would hold her, whispering loving words, promising to be there for her forever, to be the friend she always needed when all he wanted to was trace her lips with his own and make sure she never wept like that again. Far away, Keitaro could feel the man's grief and shuddered against it.
"What would you tell her?" he asked, invoking Kenzo Aoyama's ghost. "Would you tell her to live on and love again? Would you show her what's under her nose?" He cast a baleful look at the bottle of sake. All this drinking was making him maudlin. He wished his room had a TV, something to take his mind off things. Maybe he ought to go out?
Then fate intervened with a knock.
"Urashima?"
Motoko! What the hell?
"The desk man said your key was still here. Are you there? Please?"
Keitaro flinched, still reeling from Motoko's very presence so far from home. He couldn't remember her saying please to him ever; and her voice…
He hobbled to his feet and opened the door. Motoko, eyes wide with relief, stood on the other side. Naru leaned against her with unfocussed eyes.
Keitaro was so shocked that all thought of being angry at either of them vanished. "What's going on?"
His voice seemed to bring Naru back to reality. Her eyes focussed and trained on him. "Keitaro?"
He grunted as she lunged for him and clung to his chest. The wetness of her tears soaked into his shirt as he looked at Motoko in desperation for any kind of answer, but found her as broken and ignorant as he.
Naru sobbed incoherencies into his chest as he stepped back into the room, taking her with him. Panic welled inside and he felt tears prick at his own eyes as the girl who had been his greatest bane and best support sat on the edge of hysteria.
"Motoko, the bottle."
Motoko, understanding, rushed inside to pour a liberal portion and thrust it towards him with shaking hands. He took it and sat Naru on the floor.
"Drink."
She did in one gulp and coughed as it burned her throat. The break in her crying was enough for what remained of her control to kick in. Her sobbing stopped and her shoulders stopped shaking. She drew in deep breaths, letting the fresh air fill and still the deepest part of her. She laid back against the tatami and shut her eyes.
"She's gone," was all she said before the exhaustion took her.
End of Part 2
- 10
- 11
- 12
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May/December