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“Looks like this is it, buddy.” Hanami’s feverish eyes lend credence to her claim. Ryuuji likes that she’s lucid enough to keep up with her tradition of eschewing real names for pet names (and, being a linguist, she’s referred to Ryuuji by endearments in languages he never even know existed. Makes life interesting.) That’s pretty much all he can appreciate, though. He’s familiar enough with disease to know that an illness can continue to animate a body long after the mind has gone. He supposes he should be grateful to have these final moments, but he’s not. His near legendary patience has finally snapped like a needle popping a balloon.
“I’m so angry,” he says, and winces. Not at angry with her. Never with her. It’s not her fault her household went up in flames when she was young. It’s not her fault that the bomb that caused it left a strange, recurring disease among every survivor in a ten-mile radius. He remembers when her brother succumbed to the same thing two years ago. Her health has always been frail but this still feels far too sudden. Somehow he thought her immune had grown to accommodate her illness. “No, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.”
Hanami makes a motion like she’s trying to sit up, but then forgoes the idea. “Don’t be. I’m angry. I’m pissed I won’t get to finish my life’s work.” Ryuuji thinks of her study, littered with writings on the evolution of bird song into languages understandable to human primates. Someday she hoped to publish a book on the topic. “And you know I’d give even that up if it meant I could see Ryouta grow into an adult.” Her voices breaks on those last few words. It might sound like little to an outsider, but Hanami’s always been wed to her own curiosity. She’s woken him up before, just to share her insights on what communication betwen dinosaurs must have sounded like. Suggesting all that she’d forgo that… well, it means something. He understands it; beyond the obvious state of blood ties, Ryouta’s just an easy kid to love.
“I’m grateful he learned to speak before I had to die,” Hanami muses. “It’s felt a bit like watching a language evolve on a microcosmic level, even though that’s sentimental on my part. Ryouta’s only mimicking what he hears around him, but it’s still fascinating to watch him do it.”
Ryuuji is overwhelmed with a painful sort of fondness for her. Life is too short for tunnel vision and self-isolation. He prefers to surround himself with inquisitive people, even if they might carry that to trait a fault. Maybe that’s why Hanami and Isa have always been his favorite people. He had once been convinced they’d get along perfectly well. And, well, he’d somewhat miscalculated in that regard. They hadn’t disliked each other when they’d met, but there’d also been an abundance of gallow’s humor whenever they conversed. Whenever that happened, it made Ryuuji feel like he was on the outside of an obscure joke.
“You know,” he says, thinking of all the work he and Isa have done for medicine, all the viruses he’s been exposed to… “I’d always though I’d be the first to go.”
Hanami laughs before Ryuuji has time to feel bad. “Now you sound like Isa,” she giggles, as though she has been reading his mind.
“Ah, well…”
“Listen.” Her gaze seems further away. “I don’t want to leave, but at least we made a good life together, yeah? Considering the state of the world?”
“Yes.” Focus on that, Ryuuji. “I think we did.”
“Good. I’m glad” She sighs, and he worries it’ll be Hanami’s last breath. Not quite. “Look, though. Languages have families, people also need families in order to survive. Go be with whoever makes you happy after me. And both of you, protect Ryouta. That’ll be the best way to honor my memory.”
It feels like she’s giving him permission for something specific, but Ryuuji never gets a chance to ask.
*
One week ago, the subject was Kawara Hanami, and Isa was mindful of all that entailed. Posthumously, she’s just victim #89 of the Moirai disease. It only effects those from her hometown, and will die out within a few generations. (Case in point: Kawara Ryouta is not the strongest of birds, but he does not have his mother’s illness. It appears to not be genetic.)
One week ago, Karawa Ryuuji had a wife, and Isa was mindful of all that entailed. Now he’s a widower with a young son, and Isa expects that to drag his rival down. But Ryuuji’s always been intriguingly pragmatic and, though he looks near tears for good while, his work never suffers for it. Isa feels a flare of guilt for doubting Ryuuji’s emotional strength.
In her will, Hanami has dictated that her body is to be donated to science. Specifically, she wanted Isa to experiment on her. No one else. Not even her husband. (Though, perhaps that was out of love? He's not quite sure about the source of Ryuuji's reluctance, if he has any. The body is no longer Hanami.)
“What an … interesting request,” Isa says, when he hears the news. “I was unaware your wife thought so highly of me.”
“I’m sure she thought you’d find the answer.”
Thus, Isa ends up with pieces of Ryuuji’s wife in his studio. Sometimes he laughs, thinking about how it sounds like something from a horror novel. In practice, it’s a practical, almost predictable situation. He extracts genetic material from her, and tries to decode the meaning of her death, much like she tried to decode ancient languages during her life.
After a year, Ryuuji comes to him, his eyes sharp with an unspoken query. ‘Have you figured it out yet?’ is what Isa he expects to hear.
“Do you want to move in with me and Ryouta?” is the question Isa hears instead.
(The only possible answer is "yes.")
*
It’s an unpredictable planet, yeah, and once a battle between humans and birds happened right by Ryouta’s house. (During all the chaos he met a girl named Hiyoko, though, and he likes having her around.)
But daddy’s nice and funny, even when he’s tired. Also, okay, Isa can be pretty strange sometimes, but he’s always really interesting to talk to when he’s around. Once he even found out a cure for what killed mommy, which is definitely a good thing; it means Ryouta’s cousins get to live longer.
It’s a small, weird family. But Ryouta likes it.