'Keita, I like you. I like you very much. Ever since that day, so many years ago, I… I have kept you in my heart and mind ever since…I kept thinking about you… If you would only give me a chance to show you…'
My body jerked on its own, as if it had been electrocuted. I sprang to my feet and shuffled a few steps backwards, trying to put as much distance between us as possible.
What was all that about many years ago? Haven't we just recently met? I don't remember meeting this person ever before, let alone being so close as to give this man the chance to feel this way towards me. It was all very confusing.
When I tried speaking, I was startled to notice just how much my voice shook. I didn't want to seem weak in front of this person, therefore I tried my best to reign in my emotions.
"Asakura-san, you… you can retrieve your investment if you wish. I don't care. I…I just want to know what it is that you really want from me."
It appeared that my violent reaction made him snap back to his senses. He also seemed to make an attempt at calming down from his previous surge of emotions. He even did it better than me. When he finally spoke again, his voice was steady and his posture had the appearance of calmness. Only his eyes betrayed an internal turmoil.
"Masato-sensei, you don't have to worry. I won't take back the funds for the movie, because I believe your story needs to be brought into a world of color and sound. It deserves to be shown on the big screen. YOU deserve that."
"Asakura-san…"
"Alright." he sucked in a deep breath. "I will tell you the whole truth. Whether you will still want to talk to me after that, it's your call. I will abide by whatever you decide."
Asakura-san stopped for a moment, taking another deep breath and letting it out slowly. He sat straighter on the sofa, as if getting ready for battle.
I looked at him puzzled, thinking what could he have to say that was making him feel this nervous.
When he finally began speaking again, his voice sounded low and melancholic.
"Fifteen years ago, I was in a car accident. My father's driver fell asleep at the wheel and caused a big accident. More than one car was involved, but there were only two severe casualties. One was the driver, who died, and the second was a boy of around 14-15 years old, who ended up in a coma. As for myself, I only got a concussion. The rest of the people who were further away from the hot zone only had mild injuries.
I spent a week in the hospital, before I was finally allowed to go home. My father was still worried, so he had me coming back for a checkup almost every other week. It was boring to stay in the hospital, so I took the habit of walking around the hallways or going up on the rooftop for a breath of fresh air.
One day, I heard a doctor talking to my dad about the accident. They mentioned the boy who was still unconscious. Since he had been on the crosswalk at the time of the accident, he got the worst of it. But astonishingly he was still alive, even if just barely. His head had been hit pretty badly and they couldn't estimate when he would wake up.
Since the accident had been caused by my father's driver, he offered to pay for the boy's medical expenses. Whether he would remain in a coma for a week or even longer, my father was willing to have everything taken care of. Thus, his personal assistant went ahead and talked to the boy's parents, offering his assistance for whatever it was needed. I don't know how those parents reacted. I only know that they agreed in the end. After all, having to pay for a single room in a hospital must have cost a lot of money and they didn't seem that well off.
A week went by, then a month, then a whole year passed. I kept visiting the hospital regularly, at first for my own health, but afterwards I continued to go because of that boy. That time when I heard my father talk to the doctor, I secretly went and found the room the boy was staying in. To my surprise, there was no one there besides a little girl. She was sitting on a chair with her head leaned against the side of the bed, her small hands clutching at the boy's. Probably his sister, I thought. I took a few steps closer until I was right next to the bed.
When I gazed down at his face I became immediately fascinated. He had white skin, thin eyebrows and long eyelashes. Together with his straight nose and thin lips made up a beautiful face. His body looked delicate and frail, like he was a porcelain doll. My heart was captured then and there; I fell in love at first sight.
Several minutes later, a woman came inside the room. She spoke and her voice startled me out of my reverie. She wasn't very young, but based on her features it was clear just how beautiful she must have been in her younger years. Therefore, I safely concluded that it must have been the boy's mother.
When she asked me if I was there to see her son I stumbled on my words and made a complete fool of myself. Even though she had been gentle and soft spoken, I was scared silly and, thus, I ran out like a thief. I was 20 that year but, at that moment, I acted like a preschooler, running away from his crush.
After that one time, I kept coming back to his room. However, I made sure no one was there when I arrived. This silly, stalker-like behavior continued until one day I went there only to find the bed empty. In that moment I felt the air leaving my lungs and I panicked in a way I never had before. I ran to the information desk and inquired about the boy and his family but was told they had left. With trembling limbs and a shaky voice, I mustered the courage to ask about the boy. Was he alive? To my utter bliss I was told that he had woken up from the coma and was moved to a different room for recovery. Since I wasn't part of his family, they weren't allowed to give me any more information.
But I had my ways. I soon found out where he was staying and followed after him. He was indeed awake, lying on the bed with his head turned towards the window. He was gazing at the sky with an indecipherable look in his eyes. For some strange reason, when I looked at him, I felt as though he was very far away. Even if there were only a few meters between us, it was like he was somehow detached from the world.
Just as I was contemplating what to do, he turned his head abruptly and watched me with cold eyes. That stare made me shudder and I ran away again, all embarrassed and flustered. That was the last time I saw him. After that, I couldn't come to the hospital for a while and by the time I was finally able to, he had already been discharged."