Page 74 of The Awakening
“Would you like to rest in the guest room before lunch?” Haruka suggests. “You seem depleted.”
I nod. It feels weird, napping at Haruka’s house, but if I’m going to do it, I’d rather lie in a proper bed than pass out in the middle of his office floor—havesomedignity about it. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Thanks, Haruka, I appreciate it. I’m not sure why I’m so tired today. My apologies.”
“No apology is necessary.” Haruka smiles serenely, drawing his long body up from the floor. “Your body chemistry is drastically changing. Perhaps things are progressing?”
I stand up as well, just as another yawn comes over me. “Not sure. I feel fine… Aside from this notion of being slowly dragged underneath a sea of cotton, I’m brilliant.”
Haruka guides me to a cozy guest room just off the back garden of their home. There’s a giant, sprawling maroon-colored maple tree there, surrounded by a glassy koi pond and green grass despite the late season. It’s lovely and peaceful—perfect for napping, so I leave the door cracked open a smidge to let the chilly air in.
I lie down in the soft bed, and that thick, cottony feeling suddenly overwhelms me. My body feels heavy and my mind is drifting off somewhere far away, like my consciousness is slipping too deeply and I’m losing sight of myself. It startles me, and I want to pull myself back, fight it off somehow.
In the end, though, I can’t. I’m mentally kicking and screaming, but it’s dragging me under. Forcing me to comply.
Thirty-Four
Junichi
It’s a little after one o’clock and I’m in between clients when my phone rings. Looking at the screen, it’s Haruka. Twice now this year. Amazing.
“Hey.”
“Hello, Jun.”
“What’s going on?” I almost add how weird it is that he’s using his phone, but it’s better to let him get to the point.
“I believe Jae is transitioning. It’s time.”
I stop dead in the middle of my studio, a sense of panic in my chest. I feel like my spouse is about to give birth. Are we ready? Where’s the bag? Should we call the doctor? Heisthe doctor. “How do you know?”
“He has been immobile for the past two and a half hours. He seemed tired, so I thought perhaps he needed to sleep—which in and of itself is odd and unlike him, given the time of day. Now he is stirring wildly in the guest bedroom. Thrashing and sweating. You should come here if you can.”
Shit. It’s happening. God. I look at my watch. “Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I need to cancel my clients. Is he responding to you?”
“Yes. But he is obviously discontented—as if he is fighting with what is happening to him.”
“Alright, I’ll be there soon.”
We end the call and I immediately dial out to my two o’clock client. I have four other calls I need to make afterward. Usually, I’m a stickler about cleaning up my shop and worktable before I leave, but I skip my routine today, turn off the lights and lock the door behind me.
When I arrive at the Kurashiki estate, only Haruka is there, with Sydney nervously shuffling around. Nino is in Kyoto and Asao is running errands.
“Tell him to stop resisting,” Haruka says, preceding me through the outdoor breezeway and toward the guest room where Jae is. “He’s fighting, and it is making the process more difficult.”
“How do you know all this?” I ask. “You couldn’t have read about this. You said it’s never happened before.”
“True. However, with what Idoknow, coupled with sheer observation, I am able to make educated guesses. He is resisting because he is afraid—which is understandable. But he needs to relax and submit to the process.”
When I step inside Jae’s room, I see exactly what Haruka means. He’s lying on the bed, but his face is scrunched, chest heaving up and down with beads of sweat running down his temples. The room is showered in cool afternoon light as I walk forward. I look back to see Haruka leaning in the doorframe with his shoulder, his hands in his pants pockets, observing.
I sit down against the edge of the bed and take Jae’s hand in mine. “Hey.” His eyes flash open, panicked and wide. Frantic and delirious, like someone with a violent fever. He settles his gaze on me, and his voice is hoarse.
“Jun—something’shappeningto me and I—I can’t think straight or move!”
I scoot in closer. “You need to try and relax. Don’t fight it.”
He shakes his head against the pillow, his gaze wild. “No—It… it feels like I’mdying.I don’t want to die!”
