Tokiwa took Itsuki to a private hospital in the town at the foot of the mountain. A nurse immediately put Itsuki on a wheelchair and took him to an exam room.
"Your left ankle is just sprained, but your right one is broken," the middle-aged doctor said, sounding
official. "We'll put both of them in casts, though. Since your left one's in much better shape, the cast won't be on as long."
The doctor quickly set both ankles, then put Itsuki back on the wheelchair
"Don't put any weight on the right side for now," the doctor warned.
"You can put a little weight on
the left, but be careful, it's a pretty bad sprain. You had a lot of internal bleeding, so the ligaments are probably hurt. If you seem to be healing too slowly or something
unusual happens, come back right away."
"Thanks a lot," Itsuki said, nodding his head. An orderly wheeled him back to the reception area, which
was already closed for the night. The spacious waiting room was empty, illuminated by a single light.
"Excuse me! I'd like to pay the bill," Itsuki called out.
"I took care of it. I'll give you the receipt later," Tokiwa said curtly.
"Uh, sorry about all this, Itsuki mumbled.
Tokiwa had a right to be pissed, after all the hassle hed been through.
Tokiwa was quiet on the way back up the mountain. He never even glanced at Itsuki in the passenger seat. There was no sign of the snow stopping and the forest now looked completely white. Finally, the old farmhouse became visible
"You know why all this happened, right? You were playing around in the snow instead of going straight home," Tokiwa said dryly.
"But your garden is so beautiful," Itsuki said without thinking. Tokiwa looked doubtful, but Itsuki continued on. "Yamabe's garden is lovely, but in an artificial way. I've never really liked it much. Your
garden is truly beautiful."
"Don't tell Yamabe that. His landscape gardener would cry," Tokiwa said with a faint smile, surprised by Itsuki's boldness. "Besides, there's no point in comparing Yamabe's manicured plot with my wild mess."
Back at the house, Tokiwa lifted Itsuki into the wheelchair. The snowdrifts were so white, they could be seen clearly even at night. Itsuki nervously glanced over his shoulder as Tokiwa pushed him toward the front
door.
"Uhhh," he stammered, his voice sounding very loud to himself. "Sorry to cause you so much trouble. I should go home now."
Tokiwa stopped, snorting with laughter. He pointedly looked down at Itsuki's legs. "You can't drive
with those things! How do you plan on getting home?"
"You could call a taxi for me," Itsuki suggested you." helpfully. "I'll pick up the car later, if that's okay with you.
"No taxi will come up here in this blizzard." Tokiwa said tiredly, gazing at the garden. "Most of them
don't have snow tires. Any other ideas?"
Itsuki kept quiet
"If you can't bear staying with me, try one of my neighbors," Tokiwa snapped. "Or sleep outside and
freeze, I don't care. There's another house a little way down the hill. You won't get very far on those legs
though."
Too late, Itsuki thought. He should have called a taxi as soon as he'd lost his keys, or asked Tokiwa to
take him to the station after the hospital. He could have been home by now
"Um, could I please stay here tonight?" Itsuki asked meekly
Tokiwa wheeled Itsuki into the warm living room, spread a blanket over the sofa, and then helped
Itsuki out of the wheelchair. After Itsuki was settled, Tokiwa gave him some dry pajamas.
"You can leave the oil heater on if you want to," Tokiwa directed, "and here's an extra blanket. If you
need more help, just call me."
"Thank you. Sorry again to be so much trouble," Itsuki said with embarrassment. Tokiwa nodded and turned to leave.
"Tokiwa-sensei!" Itsuki suddenly called out. He flinched as Tokiwa gave him a cold look, but made
himself say what he'd wanted to say for months. "Thank vou for the flowers you sent. My mother would have loved them. Sorry I didn't thank you sooner."
Tokiwa had sent flowers to the funeral home when Itsuki's mother passed away last autumn. Itsuki
was shocked to see Tokiwa's name on the simple arrangement of pure white lilies. After 49 days had
passed, Itsuki sent Tokiwa the customary thank you gift, but never had the chance to thank him in person. He had been feeling bad about that.
Tokiwa fell silent at Itsuki's words. After a moment, he spoke in a soft tone. "I heard your sister got
married."
"Yes. She found a good husband, and was married last spring," Itsuki replied, feeling surprised at
Tokiwa unexpected remark. Tokiwa knew Itsuki had a sister, and had been raised by a single mother. But why should Tokiwa even care?
Tokiwa gave him another blank look, then left the living room. When he didn't return, Itsuki assumed
he had gone to bed.
Itsuki spent the night curled up on the sofa, fighting the urge to cry out in pain. He needed painkillers, but he didn't have any. Though his legs felt crushed inside the casts, he finally managed to drift off to sleep.
In the middle of the night, Tokiwa came back to check on Itsuki. He propped him up on the couch and
gave him some medicine. Itsuki downed the pills with a glass of water and soon felt a little more relaxed. Tokiwa lowered him to the sofa again, then wiped his forehead
with a damp cloth. Itsuki quickly went back to sleep.
Itsuki opened his eyes again at dawn, confused by memories of the previous night. Did Tokiwa really
take care of him? Or was all that a dream?
Itsuki noticed a glass and jug of water on the end table. He was still damp with sweat, but the pain in his
legs had eased up a bit. He rested on his side and stared up at the dark ceiling. He still couldn't believe he was actually in Tokiwa's house.
Tokiwa had returned to Japan almost a year ago, but they hadn't really spoken to each other until
yesterday.
At seven, Tokiwa appeared with a breakfast tray, wearing the same glum expression as yesterday. He
set down the tray near Itsuki, who felt embarrassed by this unexpected kindness, and helped the man into his wheelchair.
Itsuki didn't really feel like eating, and Tokiwa seemed to pick up on this.
"You haven't had anything since last night," he scolded. "Get a little something in your stomach, then
you can take more painkillers."
"Thank you." Itsuki nodded, picking up his chopsticks. He noticed a round white pill at the corner of the tray, and flashed back to Tokiwa's mission of mercy
in the middle of the night. Itsuki forced himself to clean his plate as Tokiwa watched from nearby. The brisk, acid taste of tomato vegetable soup made Itsuki's throat feel much better.
"Aren't you going to eat?" Itsuki asked in the middle of his meal.
"Don't you worry," Tokiwa spat out. "I alway take care of myself first. Too many fools suffer until they're sweating bullets."
Itsuki suddenly realized that his memories were indeed real. Tokiwa took the empty tray and got up.
"Thank you," Itsuki said. "And sorry again for all your trouble. But,"
Itsuki hesitated as Tokiwa looked at him wearily.
Now what? Tokiwa seemed to be thinking.
"Could I use your phone?" Itsuki finally asked "My cell seems to be broken."
He'd already pressed the power button a hundred times, but it still wouldn't turn on. It was covered in dents and scratches and must have gotten damaged when he fell. Tokiwa left for a moment, then
returned with a cordless model. He silently handed it to Itsuki and walked away.
"Thanks," Itsuki uttered to Tokiwa back,dialing Kasaoka's number.
Kasaoka picked up immediately. Itsuki explained what happened, including the broken cellphone, and
apologized for not calling sooner. Kasaoka also seemed surprised by Tokiwa's behavior.
"Guess you needed extreme measures to get through to him," he said, laughing bitterly. "No need to
hurry home, though. Just tell Tokiwa the meeting with Yamabe will only take an hour or two. Get him to come back with you, okay?"
"I don't think he'll listen to me," Itsuki whispered. "It would be easier if you came "
"Pfft! That would make no difference whatsoever." Kasaoka interrupted. "You've been close
to Tokiwa in the past, you're the best person to deal with him now."
"But that was..." Itsuki started to say before he caught himself. He really wanted to leave his personal
business out of this. "That was a very long time ago," he continued quietly. "Things are different now."
He left it at that, wondering what Kasaoka would think. A moment passed before Kasaoka spoke again.
"At any rate, I can't leave Yamabe-sensei right now," Kasaoka finally said. "If we wait much longer
it'll be too late. Try to win Tokiwa over during the next two weeks."
"Two weeks?" Itsuki gasped. Would he really be here that long?
"The sooner the better," Kasaoka said. "If you need to stay at a local hotel and keep on working on him. But until then, don't use Tokiwa's home phone. Wait until you're at a hotel to contact me again."
"Right," Itsuki replied, and then hung up the phone.
He thought back to yesterday, and his last meeting with Yamabe. The sensei was nearly 60, but looked at least 20 years younger than his real age, His hair was still so black, he didn't need to dye it, and the sharp
features of his face left a distinct impression. Yamabe's voice still sounded strong and commanding, and tended to dominate every conversation he was involved in. The sensei hated it when strangers acted overly familiar with him and never indulged in lighthearted socializing with his staff.
As Itsuki gazed at the now-dead phone, he decided to get Tokiwa to Yamabe as soon as possible
Just like Tokiwa said, no way could he drive in his current condition. Itsuki might be able to rent a car
with hand controls, but the thought of driving another person down that treacherous mountain road frankly
terrified him.
He didn't dare tell Kasaoka the extent of his injuries, or Kasaoka would have rushed to help him
Itsuki hated to have his supervisor worry about him especially since he was completely to blame for this
predicament.
At any rate, the fact remains that he was stuck here until the snow melted. He would check the road
reports the next day to see if he could call a taxi. Right now, that seemed to be his only option.
"Are you done yet?" Tokiwa suddenly asked startling Itsuki.
When did he come back in here? Itsuki thought. Tokiwa gave him the same blank look as before. Itsuki
quickly handed him the receiver
"Sorry to monopolize your phone. But thanks for letting me use it," Itsuki said politely. He swallowed
hard, preparing himself. It was now or never time. "Uh, Tokiwa-sensei? Do you think you could visit Yamabe sensei pretty soon?" he asked tentatively.
Tokiwa raised his eyebrows, but didn't respond.
"It wouldn't take long," Itsuki reasoned. "Half a day at most. They'll send you home in a cab afterwards.
I know you're really busy, but I'm begging you."
"Today, or even tomorrow, would be physically impossible," Tokiwa stated firmly. "The blizzard is still
raging, the roads are iced over, and I've heard there's an accident near the station. A taxi would never come here now."
"We could go after the snow melts." Itsuki suggested hopefully. "Call a taxi and visit Yamabe. That
okay with you?"
Tokiwa just laughed sarcastically.
"Help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen," he said curtly, walking away. Just stay away from my
bedroom and my studio."
Itsuki's heart felt heavy as he watched Tokiwa leave.
Maybe if Kasaoka asked him, he thought again. Everybody trusted Kasaoka, even the young
artists who were Yamabe's students. Once, when Yamabe had thrown out a wayward apprentice, Kasaoka had managed to talk him into taking the kid back Kasaoka listened to all sides, and always tried to be fair. When Yamabe called Kasaoka "a man to be trusted," he was telling the absolute truth.
On the other hand, Yamabe's apprentices didn't trust Itsuki whatsoever, even as a member of the household staff. It was only natural. Since he was never
allowed to speak to them directly, Itsuki had never really bonded with anyone. Even though Itsuki had worked for Yamabe for the past eight years, that didn't count for
much in the greater scheme of things.
Itsuki wheeled his chair towards the window and looked outside. The snow was still coming down
hard and drifting across the landscape.
Why can't I just tell Kasaoka everything, Itsuki thought bitterly.
There was a time when he had called Tokiwa a friend. But now Tokiwa hated Itsuki, or so it seemed. Or was "supreme indifference" a better way of putting it? Tokiwa could be blunt, but he was seldom mean. Maybe
he only acted that way around Itsuki.
Itsuki sighed as he gazed at the snow-covered world. It felt like snow was falling in his heart, too.