I EAT CHAOS FOR BREAKFAST :D

Right now I felt like there was distance between the Tenimyu members and me: they were full of energy and a sense of fulfillment, whereas I was completely disabled and felt uncomfortable. This scared me. Maybe I was the only one who thought, “We’ll be friends forever,” and while I wasn’t paying attention they all had moved far away. 

It didn't matter if it was because of some act of God; I owed them big time for leaving them right before the start of the performances. I felt conflicted right until the moment I put the tape in the player and hit play on the remote. I wanted to watch it, but I also felt like if I watched it I would lose something valuable. "What am I talking about? I couldn't possibly lose anything else...", I muttered with self-pity as I used my left hand (which still had some strength) to push the play button. 

The screen suddenly lit up. This wasn't a depressing heart-to-heart: they all burst out laughing. 

 "You better treat me to ramen. We only had rehearsals for nine days!” 

"We have to do this again! Hurry and come back!" 

"We're waiting for you!"

“Show me what your dreams are made of!” 

Each member addressed me on camera. "Shut up. I'm still getting better. Can't you be a little quieter?" I guess they couldn’t help being happy; the faces on the TV were smiling brilliantly. "God. Usually at times like this don't you say something like 'Hang in there?' 'We're waiting for you?' Really? You can't just say whatever you want." I wanted to say that in my usual sassy tone, but my voice was still shaky and my mumbling didn’t have the same punch. 

“You said you’d wait for me, but in the end I guess Tenimyu will go on without me... They wouldn't understand unless I said something..." I continued to curse them as I watched the rest, but I started choking on my words. Endless tears burst from my eyes, and I started to cry loudly. 

The fan letters I received were in the same vein. 

“I can’t wait to see your Ryoma again!”

“I don’t care how you do it, just please come back to Tenimyu!”

You’re all morons. I can't go back like this. Someone who can’t walk or talk normally has no place in a musical... We’re waiting? Come back? You all really are stupid. 

“Fine. I won’t give up! I’ll be back!” After all, they didn’t tell me to hang in there; they told me they were waiting for me. I felt like they accepted me even if my mind and body weren’t perfect. I felt saved. I stopped thinking about dying. I started thinking positively about living with this body. I would definitely return to Tenimyu. This served as my strength.  

Pg. 99-102

I was without hope. I got sentimental and suddenly my life flashed before my eyes: my childhood in Germany; a life of survival in India; my obsession with dancing, and standing on stage with everyone during Tenimyu.

“It was a short but good life." Thinking this I had no regrets. 

My bed faced the window. I looked outside. "Let’s jump." 

Of course I’m here now because I didn’t jump. 

After that day, I still felt empty inside. I thought about it a lot and tried telling Dr. Ichikawa about my suicidal feelings. 

"That’s a common reaction. You see your current condition and compare it to how you were before and long for what you had before. Having bad thoughts and wanting to die is normal. I don’t think you have to throw those suicidal feelings away, but know that there are good reasons to not kill yourself. Give it some time and think about it again." 

I was relieved hearing those words from my doctor. But I still spent a lot of time doing nothing but staring out the window. I didn’t feel like doing anything.

I was hospitalized right in the middle of the college entrance exam period. I knew my friends were busy taking exams, but the lack of messages made me feel lonely and upset. I felt so alone knowing that we were only close while we were at school. 

I came up with a rule: if they haven’t contacted me in the last two weeks, I’ll remove them from my Contacts. I thought we were friends, but I guess it was just because we went to the same school. If I changed schools, we wouldn’t speak again. And to think if they had been the one who was disabled…

Deleted. Them too. And him. And her. Him too…

My phone was now quite basic. Almost all of my contacts had been deleted. One by one their names and the memories we had shared together disappeared: it was like I was disappearing. 

That night was the one and only night I thought about dying. When I thought about dying, I remembered that there is always hope after despair, but after that I didn’t feel full of despair or hope. I was just living, and that’s all.

Pg. 96-98

As I was stuck in a wheelchair, my father wheeled me out of the hospital. “Will I get better?” “You will.” We walked a little further. “Will I get better?” “You will.” “I’ll get better, right?” “…” “Will I get better?” “You will. No doubt about it.” My father added the “No doubt about it” as if he were trying to convince himself of it. 

After my transfer, my father returned to India for his job. My father was always so busy, but yet he took more than a month off of work and stayed by my side. He gave me massages (which he wasn’t used to doing) and folded a thousand paper cranes: back when I was healthy I couldn’t have imagined seeing this side of my father. From what I can remember vaguely, I feel like there was also a time when he carried me to the bathroom. 

“Please let Kotaro get better somehow.” 

India may be far from Japan, but yet I still believe that the thoughts of my father (who was praying from there) reached me in Japan. 

A month later, at the end of February, my father returned to Japan to check up on me. I still couldn’t write well or walk without a cane, but to my father, who had only seen me bedridden and unable to remember much more than I could remember, this must have seemed like a miracle. When we met again, after he got over the shock, he had a smile on his face. 

At that time, I could tell you my name and age, but I couldn’t tell you what I had for breakfast that morning. However, my doctor, Ichikawa Atsushi, and the rehabilitation physicians were surprised by how fast I was recovering. However, despite the fact that I had come to understand my condition, I started to worry more. 

My first thought was “What happened to Tenimyu?” So I looked at the calendar, but the performance dates had already passed. When did that happen? What was I doing then? When I tried to get up, I could visualize doing it in my mind, but my body wouldn’t follow through. Was my head really attached to my body? Did these arms and legs really belong to me?

“Mom, my body won’t move… Did something happen?” 

When I finished listening to my mom describe the accident, I tried to act as if I understood and was okay with it, but the second that visiting hours were over and I was left alone, I thought about it all.

Pg. 93-95