We’re supposed to be getting a new student soon, but I can’t remember where I heard that or who I heard it from. Maybe I never really heard it, and it was something I remember from a dream. I have so many dreams, but it seems like I remember so few of them. My life is full of moments like these, a sudden flash of déjà vu here or there, with nothing to connect them too.
I surface from sleep in my bed, in the girls’ dormitory. Was I here when I slipped away? I try to remember, but like always, I can’t remember the moment of transition. I was walking, I’m quite sure of that, but walking from where?
Class, of course. We had finished another of Mutou’s science lectures (I managed to stay awake this time, but I learned little.) and were dismissed. Somewhere between classroom 3-3 and the dormitory, I must have slipped away. Embarrassing. Awkward. Somebody must have carried me back and placed me on my bed, but I don’t know who.
Slowly, I run my hands up and down my body, looking for the inevitable bruise or ache. One cannot collapse in a corridor without some injury, no matter how minor. I’ve learned that the hard way. I find the grey smear of a bruise on my shoulder and grimace slightly when I touch it. It stands out violently against my pale skin. I know that I should spend more time outside, but my condition makes thing difficult. I hate waking up to find people standing over me, asking me if I’m okay.
Checking my clock, I realise that I’ve slept though the literature club meeting. Another moment of my life that has passed me by while I dream my foolish, ill-remembered dreams. I sigh and look around my room for something to do. The room is cluttered with books and pieces of half finished homework. The books are from the library, and I need to return many of them. I should do it tomorrow, but I know that I’ll end up breaking my own promise.
I spend a lot of time in my room. Aside from my classes and the literature club, I only venture outside to get food from the local shops and return my books to the library. If I fall asleep here, in the privacy of my own room, nobody else has to know, and that’s the way I prefer things.
Obviously, I didn’t get the chance to pick up some food after class. There’s probably some food left over from my last shopping trip, but I’m not hungry at the moment. Instead, I pull a book from the nearest stack and leaf through the pages. My eyes glide across the page but the words themselves are meaningless. Drowsiness has settled over my mind like a low cloud, leaving my thought sluggish. At least I’m already in bed, I tell myself with a sad smile as I slip away again.
This night is fitful, like all the others. While all others are sleeping happily, I linger on the threshold of sleep. Too tired to be called properly awake, I am nevertheless unable to sleep. My nights are often spent reading by the light of the moon, only for sleep to creep over me as dawn starts to approach. I set my alarm to wake me in time for class and lie back, waiting for the next day to begin.
The class is busy, and a little noisy. Mutou is late again and I wonder if he has overslept. Sometimes, I feel a little sympathy for our teacher since he always looks tired – do I look the same way to the rest of the class? My head rests on the desk in front of me as I fight to stay awake. Perhaps this is the day that our new classmate will arrive. There seems to be an empty desk set out near Hakamichi that I don’t remember from yesterday’s class.
Mutou arrives at last, with the new student in tow. He looks awkward standing in front of the class while Mutou apologises for being late. I suddenly want to sit up and reassure him. I want to give him a smile, or a wave. Anything to take a little of the sadness away from his eyes. I want him to see me and feel welcome.
I can’t. I can barely lift my head to look at him, let alone give him a wave. I can barely keep my eyes open, let alone give him a smile. As he starts to introduce himself, I can feel my wits drain away and the remaining strength leave my limbs. I suddenly hate my condition, more than I can ever remember hating it. I catch one last sentence of his introduction before sleep claims me.
He says his name is Hisao Nakai.