Work Text:
Subjecting oneself to excruciating pain was the only way Naomi would not forget. That had become clear after she had escaped Heavenly Host. The memories were gradually fading one by one. First, she spent days without even thinking about Seiko. The lack of anything resembling Seiko entering her mind was uncommon, to put it mildly.
Naomi's memories were petals being torn off a vibrant flower:
First, the sound of her voice faded into the wind.
Second, memories of what she looked like were only vague adjectives.
Third, what her personality was like was starting to sound inauthentic and contradictory to Naomi's own inner voice.
Fourth. Naomi barely recalled there was something else on the list of memories to be rediscovered. Perhaps it was their relationship, the nature of it, that faded next. Could Naomi and Seiko be classified as on 'good terms', in general? Oh, definitely, they were best of friends. But right before her death, in her dying moments? Naomi was not sure she wanted the answer to that.
Even if she did, she was not the one to answer: Naomi could not even remember the last words exchanged between them. A vague recollection of her figure crossed her mind. Then she turned, walked away not happy or warmed from the encounter. It was hardly a good enough parting for Naomi to feel good about it being the last time they interacted.
Then came excruciating realizations, such as 'what happened'. Naomi was not sure that she could answer that question if someone asked. Not only because she scarcely knew herself. But because she was unsure that she wanted other people to know, if Seiko would want others to. It may be easier to say 'she just disappeared' or something easier to explain, without having to explain everything that led up to it.
Because maybe people would judge her for it. Naomi and Seiko did not part on good terms. That almost always reflected poorly on the person left breathing, did it not?
Naomi was certain that was something she did not want to think about, either. But she did. Every time she thought about something, remembered something, she would ask herself questions. Did that happen, exist, before or after Seiko died? How old were we when that happened? Naomi cared little for science, or mathematics, but all the sudden those were her best subjects.
Rumination, that's what it was. Yet Naomi continued, because otherwise she knew it would be gone forever. Gone with the ache, would follow Seiko as a whole. Only her memory is what kept her alive. Once she was dead, there would be no one left, would there? It would be the most blatant disrespect she could show the girl she once held close and loved far more deeply than anyone else ever could.
Naomi was starting to realize how empty life felt without Seiko being there. Every movie she went to was one Seiko would never have the opportunity to see. Every time Naomi laughed was one more time that Seiko would have wanted to but never got to hear. Every kiss or time Naomi laid with another would be followed by the aftertaste, the thought: Seiko should be here, with me, instead.
It occurred to Naomi, one night, when she was lying in bed alone. I want to speak with her. Though she could not hear her voice, she at least wanted to address her. For the first time in nearly six years, Naomi wanted to address the girl she cherished so deeply. And so, she entered an old app that they used to message each other on. It was on an account that no one except for Seiko would be able to access.
And, from then on, Naomi sent her a number of messages. It was the first time Naomi talked to Seiko outside of her dreams. The conversation now was a lot more one-sided, a lot less intimate. More words, fewer kisses:
I love you and miss you every day.
Sent Thursday 12:16 AM
We’ll see each other again, in Heaven. That’s what I pray for every day
Sent Thursday 12:20 AM
The start of the conversation was unorthodox. It was not at all the words that Naomi had anticipated typing out. But head resting against her pillow, tears escaping her brown eyes, those were the words that came to mind. Obviously, no one was going to see the messages. No, Seiko would never read the messages, read the 'I love you' that she never could bring herself to say out loud.
Naomi had never thought of herself as religious per se, despite her mother and grandparents' beliefs. Seiko was not, either. Maybe she would have been proven wrong, though. Seiko would have the answer first and foremost. Assuming there was a Heaven, Naomi was of utmost certainty that she was there. Having second thoughts about even bringing that up, Naomi felt the urge to divert the conversation.
Naomi opened her photos to presume what she would send, if Seiko was still alive. What did Seiko like, that Naomi could remember? Ah, the cat. Seiko loved Naomi's cat: Priscilla. Seiko had taken many pictures of Priscilla when she was still alive. Because, of course she did, she loved that cat dearly. And that cat had outlived her. And the thought of that made Naomi cry all over again. But she sent the picture.
Lady passed away a month after you died. But Priscilla is still here. So is Poppy. And remember Mochi and Tofu? They're here too. We have a new cat named Loki.
You would have loved him.
Sent Thursday 12:21 AM
Naomi ran through a few more tissues. That is when she recalled the game that Seiko had recommended her. Naomi would have never purchased it if it were not for Seiko talking about it to her. It was when she started playing it that she started to think of Seiko more often. Wondering how far she had gotten before she passed away, and if she surpassed her. Naomi recalled her saying it was difficult and, it was. Seiko would be impressed if she saw how far I got in it. Would have kissed me to celebrate. Then she would have asked for more, and she knew Seiko would give in with glee.
This game is really good. Thank you for recommending it to me. I wouldn’t have played it if you didn’t most likely. I wish we could have played together.
Sent Thursday 12:28 AM
After sending that message, Naomi realized that she was done for the night. If she texted anymore, then her eyes would like never to return to their normal color by the times she had to get up in the morning. Naomi did not want anyone to see that she was crying. These feelings were all her own.
When Naomi woke up, the first thing that occurred to her was to greet Seiko. Just as she should have every day before she died.
I just woke up. Love you
Sent Thursday 8:42 AM
Naomi carried on with her day after that. Ate some breakfast. Thought about submitting job applications to the job that she was thinking of going to. The whole time, crying, thinking about how Seiko should be there too. Should have been working. Naomi knew damn well that Seiko would have been an amazing adult. Better than Naomi, she was certain. And, for a brief moment, Naomi wished that self-immolation was something she could do without hurting her loved ones. It made her recall...
Do you have any idea how many people miss you?
Sent Thursday 10:09 AM
I been crying a lot. I think I miss you the most of them. I wish I didn’t delete our oldest messages. I just felt so sad
Sent Thursday 10:29 AM
I think things would be better if you were still here instead of me. That's how I feel oftentimes. Because I feel like you would better understand what needs to be done than I do. You would have made more effort to be around people. You liked being around people and were extroverted and had plans for the future. I don’t really understand what happened to you, I don’t understand why things turned out the way they did. I just know you would still be here if it weren't for a stupid mistake.
Sent Thursday 10:32 AM
I feel like if I died instead you would have been stronger. I’m sorry things didn’t play out differently. I just hope you were and are at peace. I hope there is Heaven and that you’re 22 now like you were supposed to be.
Sent Thursday 10:33 AM
It was then that a phone call interrupted her. An unknown number. Naomi paused, considering canceling the call so she could continue. Continue spiraling out of control, like she wanted to. But she remembered the world did not remember Seiko Shinohara. And, even if they did, six years had passed and they no longer cared. It's not like, Naomi recalled, her messages would ever be read anyway.
Even if she deleted a message, or stopped in the middle of a sentence,
Seiko was gone.