"Hey, Yuuji, are you awake?" someone asked, their voice barely audible. I could make out the voice as the one in my dream, but it was more scattered around and it was unidentifiable. Regardless, I tried to answer.
"I guess," I said, still half-asleep.
I tried opening my eyes, and when I did, I was blinded by a light in the ceiling. It was so bright that it blinded me a little.
"Do you remember?" she asked. I could hear them a bit clearer now, and it sounded certain classmate that I knew. "The declaration of war and the skipping of stones."
"Sure do. In fact, I just dreamed of it just now."
I opened my eyes that was now compatible with the room's light, and I saw a familiar face. It was, for better or for worse, felt relieving. And there I saw Miku Akiyama.
Miku Akiyama is my classmate and class president, and she's also a huge otaku. A few weeks ago, we just happened to pass by and into each other. After that, besides the fact she became the class president at the time, I also fell sick. The reason she knows me now is because she visited me the day I was sick. When she saw the collection of manga and light novel that Yuumi owned in my room, and suddenly kept visiting every other day.
It was feeling more and more comfortable by the minute. I kept looking at here face, and she kept looking at mine. It was like this for quite awhile, and it felt like time had stopped for a bit. I eventually decided to break that silence.
"Where am I?" I asked.
I was asleep in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar bed with an unfamiliar lighting. The whole room didn't look like mine, and even the temperature was different. It felt much more colder in here.
"In the hospital. Our class Matsubara carried you here."
"Matsubara… You mean Kentarou?" I asked. "But what was he doing in our neighborhood?"
His neighborhood was far from here, about three stations. He usually visits his relatives on the weekends, but none of them live here in Mitorishi. There just wasn't much reason for him to end up in this place except if it's for school.
"He just got lost," she said. "Yuumi-chan said some pretty bizarre things about you. Never thought you were the fighter type."
I tried remembering my actions earlier. As I was in my thought processing, a certain name made it through my mind.
"…Yuumi, is she safe?" I asked.
"Sure is. She's sleeping beside you right now."
I didn't notice it before, but there was another person laying in the hospital bed with me. That being my little sister. I was far more than relieved to see her again. I couldn't even describe it in words. But there was one thing that concerned me.
"What happened to the man?" I asked. "He must've been pretty strong to have knocked me out unconscious."
"As if Matsubara could ever knock you out. You were pretty much a killing machine, as Yuumi-chan had described. Makes me truly wonder how much strength you have in that body of yours."
"What…?"
This didn't make any sense. Kentarou wasn't in the station when I arrived, and he was also the one who carried me all the way to the hospital. If he truly were the one whom I punched the crap out of, then I would've stopped the moment I knew. Heck, I'll even let him punch me if that's any consolation for him.
Unless, there was something else that was going on while I was too blinded by rage. I didn't see anything since my mind was blurry, and I couldn't remember much because of how foggy my mind was at the time.
"So you're saying…," I muttered. "I beat up my own friend…?"
"That's right."
This was certainly something that I'd never do. For twelve whole years, this type of thing has never happened. So why would it suddenly…
"Hngg…?"
Yuumi moved in the bed, and then eventually woke up. She looked at me with sleepy eyes, and then all of a sudden, she teared up and hugged me.
She sobbed, sniffled, anything that a small and lost child would do. After that, she spoke to me with a clear voice, her sobbing almost inaudible.
"Yuu-nii, I'm sorry for getting lost like that…"
That sent shivers down my spine. Her apology hit hard. It felt like it was my fault.
I hugged her back, and then stroked the back of her head, reassuring her as I always do.
"Don't worry, I'm back now. I'm sorry for suddenly leaving you like that. If I had just came with you, none of this would've happened."
I could think of a hundred reason that everything could've all been my fault. There was no way I'm letting my little sister, who looks fragile as I embraced her, take the blame for something I clearly did.
The next few minutes pass by just like this. This was the only thing I could think of that could make up the time that I wasted not being there with her. Speaking of which…
"Hey, Yuumi," I called out. "How long was I out for?"
She let go of me, and then answered.
"About a day. You got unconscious after you fought Kentarou-san."
"I see… Was the reason stated?"
"The doctor said that you were fine. It didn't seem like much happened with your body, so the source of it is probably in your brain. We're gonna visit a psychiatrist. Are you well-rested now?"
Besides my hand, knuckles, and knees feeling a little bad from fatigue, I was mostly fine. I could move my body like normal, so there was nothing much to note about.
"I'm fine. We should go already."
"Well, if you're going," Miku said. "I got a recommended doc just for you, Yuuji."
It felt nostalgic. The room that I was on had the same smell, the same layout, the same posters. Even after all those years, the place that I was comfortable with barely changed.
I was currently in the upper floors of the hospital, inside a room that I was often admitted to in my early days of childhood. A place that stuck in my memories even after all these years.
There was a doctor at the end of the room in his late fifties, in a table reading a novel. The title was too small for me to read, but it had a red cover; nothing more, nothing less.
After a bit, he looked at me and then smiled.
"Seems like you're back again, Yuuji-kun," he said. "How are you holding up this year?"
His name is Katsuo Hashimoto, a psychiatrist. He's been in this hospital for twelve years, and he just happens to be one of the best in Mitorishi. I was his most rarest case at the time.
Back then, I was diagnosed with the Split Personality Disorder, or Dissociative Identity Disorder, short for DiD. Our family didn't exactly know how to make this disorder disappear, so our only option was to suppress it.
Dissociative Identity Disorder is something that you can have. Most cases are it's from childhood trauma. However, I didn't have that, so it didn't make any sense for me to just suddenly manifest a disorder. It also does a few unique things.
You can have multiple personalities that are alternate of yourselves. They're known as alters. You can switch with them, but the downside is that not only can you not remember what the alter did, you also can't control when or what that alter does.
I only had one alter, luckily, and it just so happens to be the person that I despised the most. His name is Ryuuji, and he has been my alter ever since I was a child.
He did a lot of things. He hurt so many people up to the point this town hated us. Since he's my alter, the one who switches places with me, I'm the one who takes the blame for his actions since he's the one who uses my body.
In that time, the only psychiatrist in town died due to lung cancer, which I still wasn't too familiar with. That's when Hashimoto-sensei came to play. Not only was he a psychiatrist, he was also pretty good at it.
He prescribed our family medicines that he made, with no payment whatsoever. Although it did suppress my disorder, it wasn't as effective as it sounds. If Ryuuji happens to switch with me, then I can just drink the medicine to return to normal. That only lasts for a few hours, though.
The reason Ryuuji's gone is not because of the medicines, but my mom.
"Good to see you again, Hashimoto-sensei," I said, greeting him. "I've been doing great, thanks for asking."
"I see. Has there been signs of Ryuuji appearing lately?"
"Not that I know of. Like last year, or any other year for that matter, he's never appeared again. Do you really have to ask this question everytime?"
"Just making sure."
He closed his book, smoked, and then blew it through the air. Sometimes, I'm wondering whether he really is a doctor or not. He seems to be keeping check with everyone's state of mind, but he never minds his. I'm also wondering if it's okay to smoke in a hospital.
We have checkups like these every year which we do every fourth of July. This time, though, it just happened to be early due to a certain incident.
"What about yesterday?"
"I'm not too sure. I don't know if it was me or Ryuuji, but since I usually can't remember anything that I do the moment I switch places with him, I'd say the possibility of him switching with me at the time is slim."
"Hmm…"
I still wasn't too sure on what I was doing here. There was the check-ups like I said earlier, but there wasn't much to do and we'd just talk with each other everytime. He's mostly just observing my actions whenever I talk with him, but that's about it.
"Well, seems like we're done here."
"Are these check-ups really that necessary? All we do is just sit for a bit and talk about me."
Last year, all we talked about was about how my school life was going, how have I been holding up with my disorder, or if I've even made any friends. This was also the same for the past years as well.
"I am going to admit, none of these check-ups are necessary. And it's as you said, all we do is just talk about your life. However, these are essential for my research and for the sake of other people that also suffer from DiD, like you. Partially, these are all so that I can satiate my curiosity, but most of what I've just said is true."
"…I'll be taking my leave."
Just when I was about to reach the doorknob, he suddenly called out to me, asking me a question.
"By the way, did you happen to see any girl in this hospital that has blue hair?"
"Blue hair?"
"Yes. She's got an appointment with me later. It shouldn't have been too hard to spot her."
"If we're talking about blue hair, then I've seen someone like that."
In fact, I personally know that person myself.