Parasite Eve Sephirotto Part 13

Occasionally, the humming noise came faintly to her ears. Listening to it, she thought it sounded like magma s.h.i.+fting deep within the earth.

"Mariko has come back to us from the hospital today," her homeroom teacher had announced her return, as Mariko stood in front of the whole cla.s.s.

All eyes in the room were locked upon her. The kids in the front row were staring, and the boys in the back were craning their necks just to get a better view.

"Mariko here has just been through transplant surgery. She received a kidney from her father. For a long time, she has been unable to play any serious sports, but from now on I think she will be joining you for lunch and after-school activities. I want you all to get her filled in on what she missed while she was in the hospital, and to offer your help whenever she needs it."

Mariko felt slightly embarra.s.sed and kept her head down. But in her heart, she was elated to be back. She could finally be with her friends again.

Something flickered in the corner of her eye. Mariko turned to see a friend grinning, flas.h.i.+ng a small peace sign at her and mouthing the syllables: "Con-grats!"

Mariko flashed back the sign, briefly so the teacher wouldn't notice.

School was just like always and her peers treated her no differently than before. Her cla.s.ses had gone a little further ahead since the last time she was there. She was a bit lost in math and science at first, but her friends drilled her on the new material and helped get her back up to speed. Before long, Mariko's life was back to the way it used to be before dialysis.

She was glad to be on an even footing again with everyone else.

She was held back only from P.E. It had been decided that there was no need to rush her back into it. They'd wait and see for a while.

At the time, they were practicing swimming in gym cla.s.s. Mariko sat at the pool's edge to admire everyone's vigor, which sometimes sent water splas.h.i.+ng playfully in her direction.

As she watched her cla.s.smates take turns practicing their crawl strokes, Mariko felt a dull pain in her lower abdomen. When she pressed her hand gently upon it, it felt like she had a tumor inside of her.

The operation scar was clearly visible on her side. Her tendons had stiffened around the sutures and little b.u.mps were raised up along the scar. It twisted around like a centipede whenever she turned her waist. She did not much care for this little memento, since it was a permanent reminder that her father's kidney lay embedded just beneath it. Some time had pa.s.sed since the transplant, but she still felt a certain incompatibility. Usually it did not bother her so much, but during gym, when she watched the swimmers' bodies with their unblemished sides, she was soberly reminded of her own imperfection. Once she was conscious of it, a series of traumatic hospital memories always came back to her against all will.

One time, she felt the kidney moving during swim practice, and the sensation refused to go away even after the cla.s.s had ended. She wondered, Why does it hurt so much?

Maybe it's because my dad's kidney doesn't belong in me?

The thought gave her the chills.

What if I get sick again? What if this kidney fails, too? I'll probably have to go back on dialysis, and I won't be free like this ever again.

She did not have to think of these things. There was no reason for any of it to happen.

Every time she fell into these reveries, her pessimism s...o...b..lled. Her father had already given her one kidney. If this one failed, she could not get another one.

Or that was what she'd thought.

Her turn for a donated organ would not come anytime soon, Doctor Yos.h.i.+zumi had told her. She would have to wait a long time before a donor of her type would appear. That's why they'd registered her right away. She couldn't tell her father she didn't want a second transplant, he'd yell at her. That was the only reason why she let them go through the motions, as far as she was concerned.

Mariko couldn't decide if she wanted another transplant. She tried her best not to think about it. When, during her resumed dialysis sessions, she imagined undergoing another transplant operation, she felt a painful tightening in her chest. She would close her eyes and clench her teeth: all the tasty dishes she'd been able to eat again, all the fun she'd been able to have. The thoughts came pouring to her and she didn't know what to think anymore. She could only wonder why she'd done what she'd done.

When had it all begun? Mariko searched her memories. When?

Splas.h.i.+ng water. It sounded familiar. Swimming cla.s.s, she wondered? No, that wasn't it. Voices echoed from memory, growing louder. They began as a stirring, then changed into cheers. Again, splas.h.i.+ng water. There was yelling, which grew louder and louder, threatening to burst her ear drums.

In a flash, the scene folded out before her.

There was a bright blue sky. A single cloud floated across it, as if reflected upon water.

The cheering enveloped her. She stood up along with everyone else and gave her own cry of encouragement. The sound of splas.h.i.+ng water threaded itself through all the shouting and into her ears. Yes, that was it. The day of the intramural swimming tournament.

After the individual events were done, it came time for the relay race. Three boys and three girls from every sixth-grade cla.s.s in a 2 5-meter relay. Not only was it the last tournament of grade school, but the last race as well. This raised the excitement to a fevered pitch.

By the time the fourth swimmer jumped into the pool, Mariko's cla.s.s was in second place. The leading claws was five meters ahead, but there was still enough time to turn things around. Everyone was swimming their best that day. Mariko and her cla.s.smates gripped the pool's edge, leaning over as they rooted their team on, forgetting that they were getting drenched.

The fourth swimmer in Mariko's cla.s.s touched the wall just a few seconds short of the first place team. Not a moment later, a huge amount of water sprayed up into the air as the fifth swimmer jumped into the pool.

She was the last girl on the team. After staying underwater for five meters, she rose back up to the surface. When she was visible again, there were only three meters between her and first place.

"Let's go!" shouted Mariko in unison with the friend next to her.

But the distance between them didn't shrink any farther as the two maintained their interval for twenty meters. The anchors for each cla.s.s were preparing for the change-off.

Mariko's friend nudged her with an elbow.

"Hey look, Mariko. Aoyama is anchor for Cla.s.s 1 Mariko did a double take.

It was him, all right. Sporting a dark tan, perhaps from practicing at the pool on Sundays too, he was standing on the diving board, shouting and beckoning his teammate on as she swam towards him. That was when Mariko's kidney began to ache. She frowned and pressed a hand to her side. She'd all but forgotten about her transplant until she'd seen Aoyama's suntanned figure just now. Her heart was racing. She tried to shake off the pain, raised her voice along with the crowd, then looked to see which place Cla.s.s 1 was in. She started. Third place.

Two big splashes filled the air, one right after the other, as anchors from the first place team and Mariko's team plunged in. The cheering became even more frantic.

"Just a little more!" shouted Aoyama. He was leaning out over the end of the diving board, only one or two meters remaining before his teammate would touch the edge of the pool.

The first place swimmer and Mariko's cla.s.smate surfaced. They both took a breath and made their first stroke at the very same moment, with the same three meters still separating them.

Mariko could not take her eyes off Aoyama. She knew that cheering for her cla.s.s was more important right now, but all she could do was to stare at him as he called out from the diving board.

His teammate touched.

A moment later, Aoyama jumped in, flying farther into the air than Mariko had ever seen anyone do before. He painted a beautiful line above the pool, and from his finger tips to his feet, cut into the water with the utmost precision.

Mariko heard no splash from his dive.

And in fact, all of the sounds around her had disappeared. Her own voice, her friends, the screaming of the crowd...all was hushed, as if frozen in time. It was like suddenly being in a silent film.

Aoyama surfaced. He turned his head to the side, took a breath, and plunged his left hand thumb first into the water to propel himself forward.

Mariko then saw that the feet of her team anchor were in line with Aoyama's outstretched fingertips. Aoyama was gaining.

Her throat was sore from shouting so much, but she cheered on. She kept hollering even though she could not hear herself.

She had no idea who she was rooting for. She wanted to support her cla.s.s, but her eyes were locked on Aoyama. As they approached the goal, Aoyama and Mariko's teammate were head to head. Aoyama turned his face to breathe.

Mariko felt their eyes meet.

She gasped. Her kidney ached. She fell silent and just gazed at Aoyama.

The first place anchor touched the wall, followed soon after by second and third. The pool darkened for a moment as clouds covered the sun overhead.

Aoyama had won by a fraction of a second.

Suddenly, the roar of the crowd returned. The noise crashed into her ears like an avalanche. Everyone threw up their arms and yelled as loud as they could. Her friend hopped over to her.

"We still made third place, Mariko!"

She rejoined the cheering with a smile upon her face.

Aoyama was president of his cla.s.s. He was a little on the light side, but excelled at sports. He was pretty articulate and was always quick to make people laugh. Mariko had never been in the same cla.s.s with him, but had been interested in him ever since fifth grade.

She never spoke to him, since he was usually found to be chatting animatedly with the throng of girls that seemed to follow him everywhere.

She felt they wouldn't get along anyway.

Being the sporty type that he was, Aoyama probably liked cheerful, athletic girls, Mariko had always a.s.sumed. She'd been in bad shape from dialysis, and now, she'd just had transplant surgery. And while she'd probably be able to do gym again someday, she couldn't be termed healthy at a stretch. She was short, and she had that scar on her side. She had to take drugs every day, like some sick person. It was hopeless.

Even so, she asked Doctor Yos.h.i.+zumi if she was okay now.

She wanted him to tell her she was cured for life, but his answer was quite the opposite.

If she forgot to take her medicines at all, her new organ would be rejected. Under no circ.u.mstances could she treat her situation casually.

Mariko simply nodded at the doctor's words. She knew he was telling the truth.

Why did she have to get kidney failure in the first place? She never hated her body so much as now.

She wondered how things might have been if she hadn't gotten sick. She'd have been able to play sports...

Still, she was happy enough to chance upon him in the hallway. After cla.s.s, she would go out of her way to walk past his homeroom and peek inside to get a look at him, even though it was in the opposite direction from where her locker was. After she pa.s.sed by his cla.s.sroom, she would turn around and go down the hall, taking the roundabout way, walking an entire lap through the school building. Whenever Aoyama was not there, she would act cool and continue walking. But if he was there, she could barely contain her happiness, and her steps would lag.

That was her mistake.

With summer vacation over and two weeks into September, everyone was just coming out of their hot weather daze.

Cla.s.ses were done for the day, and Mariko went over to look at Aoyama as usual. She craned her neck and scanned the cla.s.sroom's interior.

He was not there today.

She was about to continue on in disappointment when she heard a voice address her.

"What'cha doing there, Mariko?"

She stopped dead in her tracks.

When she looked in again, she saw two boys sitting on desks. They had huge grins on their faces. There were hardly any other students in the room.

"Why ya always take a peek?"

She had shared a cla.s.s with these two the year before. They were known for sticking their noses where they did not belong and being pushy towards girls. Mariko and her friends disliked them.

"So what if I did?" she shot back in a callous tone in an attempt to hide her embarra.s.sment.

But this only encouraged the pair. One of them cut to the point.

"Oooh, I get it. You like Aoyama. That's why you're always hangin' around here after cla.s.s."

They'd figured her out.

Mariko felt her face turn completely red. She wanted to say something, but just stood there stuttering.

"Too bad, you just missed him. You know, he told us puffy-faced chicks aren't his type anyway."

The two started laughing.

Mariko turned back on her heel, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, but just as she was about to run away, she heard those dreadful words.

"Hey, I heard you got a kidney from your dad?"

Her legs froze.

"Awww, it went breaky, so you had to get help from your daddy? How cuuute."

Why were they saying these things to her? It had nothing to do with Aoyama. If only she could cover her ears and block their words. Her body had frozen and she couldn't move a finger. She wanted nothing more than to disappear at that moment.

But the boys went on.

"She's just like that Frankenstein monster, don't you think?" one of them said to the other.

"She wants to live, even if it means taking someone else's kidney. Aww, what a greedy little girl."

"What a freak. I bet her body's all patched up."

"Wonder if she can even take a p.i.s.s."

Their guffaws rang in her head like horrid bells. She wanted so much to tell them to stop, to say that she wasn't a monster, that she wasn't put together from dead people like that creation of Dr. Frankenstein. But nothing came out.

"Stop it you guys!"

A voice cried out and, the moment she heard it, Mariko fell forward as the tension in her body snapped. Her head made an awful sound against the hallway tile. As she tried clearing her blurred vision, she saw a group of girls quarreling with the boys, but could not make out who they were.

She ran away. A voice called out from behind her, "Mariko, wait!" but she ignored it.

The distance to her locker had never felt so long. She changed her shoes hastily and ran home with all her might, not stopping once on the way. By the time she got to her house, she was short of breath. Her side was in terrible pain, her surroundings distorted through tears.

When she walked in the door, she immediately removed all of her immunosuppressants from their pouch, tore open the packages, and threw the multicolored capsules and pills into the toilet. She pushed down on the handle and watched as they swirled around and flowed down the pipe out of sight, leaving only a gurgling sound in their wake.

I'm not a monster.