A headful of skye, p.19
A Headful of Skye, page 19
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They tossed snow around the room, the jellyfish continued to bob above them like nightlights and the cello went through a range of emotions. Eventually, the snow was so deep that the cello hopped onto the kitchen counter to keep playing, while Mayu and Skye pretended to swim in a cottony soft sea.
The white abyss above faded to indigo and stars sprinkled the night sky. A rainbow of music lit up the heavens like the Northern Lights. Sheltered, and yet exposed to the heavenly wonders, Mayu’s living room was the best world she’d ever created. Skye taught her how to do a basic barn waltz and they spent a while spinning around to the music. When they eventually lost their footing, Mayu picked Skye up with both arms and continued to twirl through the snow, singing a discordant version of the cello’s tune.
As the snow piled up to Mayu’s waist, however, it started to feel oppressive rather than fun. Concentrating, she willed all the snow and blossoms to vanish, leaving her living room spotless—if still without a ceiling. She pretended not to notice the smell of aftershave coming from the open bedroom door. Mayu turned to the cello and shushed it. “Something soothing, please.” It screeched on its current note, as if affronted, and the bow flicked through the air to punctuate its rage. Rolling her eyes, Mayu turned to Skye. “How do you feel?”
Skye yawned. “Tired.”
Plonking a hand on top of Skye’s head, Mayu turned her around and guided her over to the couch. “Better settle down and catch some of your own dreams, then.” Skye flopped down onto the cushions. She smiled as warmly as summer sunshine, before breaking into another yawn. Like a well-fed cat, Skye slouched forward and observed the room with half-lidded eyes with obvious contentment.
In the corner, the cello stopped having a tantrum and began playing a tender lullaby, one she had heard on the radio earlier that year and never forgotten. The sweet melody melted the silence, and Skye lay across the couch as Mayu fetched a blanket from the closet. She threw the silky material over the young girl and tucked her in, kneeling beside the couch.
The pasta necklace bunched around Skye’s neck. Mayu gestured to it. “Why did you stop for that?” Skye twisted the dried shells between her fingers, struggling to hold Mayu’s gaze. She shrugged.
“It must be important—to stop and grab it in the museum. Is that what everyone has been asking us for?” Skye rolled and nestled deeper into her pillow, not looking at Mayu. “Did you lose something that doesn’t belong to you?”
Skye shook her head.
“Did you steal something?”
A glassy sheen filled her eyes. She glanced at Mayu, a picture of misery, her lips pressed tight together as if it would stop the tears from spilling over. Mayu sighed.
“You stole a necklace, I take it?”
Skye shrugged.
“Why?”
The answer exploded out of Skye in a gust of anger. “Mum said she hated me.” Every line in her body was tense, her breathing harsh as she fought to hold onto the mirage of composure. Words pushed past her teeth. “She said I was selfish and did nothing but take, take, take. So I took some stupid necklace they’d been waiting for. They were too busy with their party to see me.”
“What?”
Skye took a long-suffering breath and curled into a ball. “They were having a party to talk about their jewellery and to show off in front of business people. The necklace arrived during the party—but they didn’t show it to anyone. They locked it in Dad’s office drawer and I know where he hides the spare key.” Her anger crumpled, giving way to a few breathless sobs and a mouth twisted with fear. “Don’t wake me up. Please. They just want the necklace, they don’t want me. They’re so angry.”
Mayu brushed the girl’s hair, unsure what to say. “They’re not—I’m sure they’re not angry any more. They just want their daughter back.” It must have been the wrong thing to say, because Skye shook her head and turned away. “I’m sure you’re imagining things are worse than they are.”
No response, only stifled wheezing.
Mayu slumped against the couch. As she stared at the back cushions, tulips sprouted between the fibres on the couch. Shoots wriggled through the top of the cushions, petals springing open in the moonlight.
Skye rustled under her blanket. “What is it with you and tulips?”
“Yūta used to buy them,” Mayu whispered. “He said yellow suited me, cheery flowers for a cheery woman. And tulips for perfect love.”
They said nothing else for a long time but, when Mayu was about to get up, Skye spoke. “Dad was beating someone in the attic,” she murmured. Mayu stiffened. “He thought he’d stolen the necklace or that he knew who had. The party made Dad suspect everyone. I was gonna put it back, but…he was scary. I didn’t mean for someone to get hurt. I didn’t want him to hurt me.”
It took a lot of effort to stay serene but Mayu placed a soothing hand on the girl’s arm. “Skye, how did you fall down the stairs?”
She took a few shaky gulps. “I—I just kind of shouted, ‘I took it.’ Dad stopped beating the other guy. I was so scared, I couldn’t—my legs were numb. Dad ran at me, and I fell. I stepped back and went out the door. I couldn’t stop myself.”
Mayu gripped her arm tighter. “You’ll be okay. No one can hurt you when you wake up. I promise it’ll all be okay. I’ll be there.” She’d finally said the right thing. The tension uncoiled from Skye’s limbs and her eyelids fluttered with weariness but, before she sank into sleep, she touched Mayu’s hand and gave a little squeeze.
“Goodnight, Mayu.”
“See you when the sun rises.”
She stroked Skye’s forehead for a while, admiring the freckles peppering her nose. As her face relaxed, Skye looked so angelic that Mayu caught herself longing for Yūta—for her own children. She peered over her shoulder and looked at the cello.
“Don’t stop playing tonight,” she told it. “I want to hear every lullaby under the sun, you got it?”
The bow played two staccato, harmonised notes; Mayu took that as a ‘yes’. If music filled her ears, instead of the memories whispering in her apartment walls, tomorrow morning might rise without further danger.
She crept into her bedroom, resolutely ignoring that Yūta’s aftershave smelt even stronger there, and took a futon from the cupboard. Back in the living room, she rolled it out on the floor, close to Skye, and settled down for another night of brain mapping. But just for a while, Mayu gazed at the stars, the musical lights, the inky shades of night…
As she fought to keep her eyes open, the stars rearranged themselves into a man, a woman, and a smaller version of Skye.
“Surprise! I’m home,” cheered Star-Skye, throwing her arms wide. “Merry Christmas!”
The man and woman, her parents, reeled in shock.
“What the hell are you doing here?” shrieked the mother.
Star Skye’s arms fell. Her father lunged forward and yanked his little girl into an invisible house. “Who brought you here?” he demanded.
“N-no one.”
“Did you steal money to ride the train?” asked the mother.
“No!”
“Did you take the train?” asked the father.
Star-Skye started crying. Her father slapped her hard on the back.
“I asked you a question.”
Nodding, hunching smaller as if to protect herself, Star-Skye burst into full-blown wailing.
“Get her upstairs,” said the mother, “otherwise everyone will hear.”
“Go on, you heard your mother,” said the father, pushing Star-Skye onto an invisible staircase. “Go back to the others,” he told his wife, “I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Crying, and leaving her luggage outside, Star-Skye crawled up the stairs like she’d rather lie down and never get up again. Then she screamed, “I never loved you anyway!” and raced up the stairs before her father could slap her again.
Mayu sat up and reached over to the real girl sleeping beside her. “Hey now,” she whispered, stroking Skye’s hair. She noticed dream tears flowing over Skye’s freckled nose. “Don’t think about that. Don’t think about them. Dream of tigers and giant fish. Be a mermaid, paint the sky like Picasso, turn into a nightingale and sing for an emperor…”
Mayu peered up at the stars and felt relieved to see the pictures change into a tubby cat wearing a giant hat, captaining a ship with massive sails.
“Or be a cat,” she chuckled. “Of course.”
The glittery pasta around Skye’s throat sparkled with dazzling light for a moment, blurring its outline. When the glow faded, a fantastic necklace sat against her skin. Shaped like a vine of ivy, the main chain was made of eighteen rose gold sprigs, sprouting at least eighty white diamonds decorating the tiny leaves. Hanging from the apex was the largest yellow diamond Mayu had ever seen—flawless. She stared at it, mouth open.
Before she felt tempted to touch it, Mayu lay down once more, sighed, and finally surrendered to sleep. The sluggishness from earlier still weighed her down, and only as she explored Skye’s sensory network, did Mayu find the cause. While Skye’s mind gradually restored itself, closer and closer to true consciousness, Mayu’s mind sank into the depths of her medically induced coma.
She tried to make herself care. She pictured Momo flirting with Richard. She sought to recall feeling elated at winning recognition for her work. She smiled, thinking of long walks with Keiji when the lab got too stressful. But these things existed without Mayu, she didn’t need them anymore. She didn’t care to see them again. Mayu deduced that one more day with Skye would be enough to wake her up, but she also suspected that this final transition might push her to the depths of no return.
Yūta’s voice reached her ear as if riding the cello’s lullaby. “If that happens, I’ll find you. I should have tried harder, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I left you.”
“It’s not your fault,” Mayu whispered back, wet droplets falling across her cheekbones and into the shell of her ears. “I know you didn’t intentionally die, you sweet fool.” Feeling pathetic, she clenched her hand, imagining Yūta’s calloused hand in hers.
“Do you want to hear a joke?” he asked.
Mayu laughed already. “I swear, if it’s one of your puns…”
“I wouldn’t dajare!”
Mayu groaned, spilling over with genuine laughter and tears.
As the hysteria faded, Momo’s faraway voice reached through the night and cried through Mayu’s unconscious mind: “Listen everyone. Matokai’s awake! He’s okay. He’ll be okay.”
Thank goodness.
Richard: “Really? Can we visit him?”
A door closed and things went quiet. Mayu forced her tired mind to realign Skye’s brain. The task seemed to take forever. She’d forgotten all about her team by the time the door opened and closed again.
Richard: “It’s happening. The top floors have been evacuated.”
Momo: “Who else is left up here?”
Richard: “Just one other patient. The window shutters will come down in a minute.”
Momo: “Oh hell… What strength is the hurricane predicted to be?”
Richard: “Category three. It could go up to four.”
Fukushima: “Boot up the second generator. Make both of them our primary power sources, we can’t miss anything.”
A clattering of metal and a dull whine cut him off.
In an effort to blot them out, Mayu sank deeper into the recesses of her mind until everything was silent.
The night passed without further drama. She focused on pooling Skye’s Parallel Energy into one small section of her brain, compressing it into a tight ball. To wake up successfully in the real world, without being dragged down by Mayu’s fading mind, Skye needed to spring away with little to no effort. Their merge needed to end in one quick, clean action.
Just before dawn, Tomoya’s voice whispered around the room. “We should have put this off for another month,” he said. “Look at you… Please look after yourself, Shirakawa.” Mayu felt a gentle squeeze on her hand. “Don’t give up now.”
“It’s time you called me Mayu,” she tried to say, but only a puff of air passed her lips.
A blistering sun rose that morning, beaming into the living room. The cello had stopped playing an hour ago and Mayu could hear it snoring on the counter in the kitchenette. Mayu attempted to roll into a sitting position, but her limbs dragged as if steel rods had replaced her bones. She panted with the effort just to roll onto her front.
Slumped in her new position, Mayu studied the carpet’s plush fibres.
“Mochi, please, I was trying to help.” Richard’s voice.
“Don’t call me Mochi,” Momo snapped. “Don’t even speak to me.”
“Mo—Kuramochi, you deserve better. You’re only making things worse for yourself.”
“It’s late. I’ll take my break now.”
“Mochi…”
“Let go of me.”
“Why are you angry with me? You wrote the thing!”
A door slammed.
“Argh!” A pause. A sigh. “Don’t leave us, Shirakawa. We’re in deep shit.”
Mayu cringed as he addressed her unconscious body, her real body, lying in a hospital bed a thousand miles from home. Even if she could reply, Mayu didn’t think she would. Not this time. It sounded like Momo needed a friend to run after her for a change. If only she could just…how had her mother put it? Let go. Slip away from everything that hurt and from everything that demanded her energy.
“Do you hear me, Shirakawa?” His voice sounded louder, like he was speaking into her ear. “Come back to us.”
Skye jerked awake and stared in confusion at the living room. “What?” she murmured. Sunlight hit the necklace, throwing dazzling multicoloured rays around the room.
Mayu tried to respond, but her lips only opened a crack and another puff of air came out instead of words. Her heavy breathing caught Skye’s attention and she heard her laugh.
“Are you comfortable like that?” she asked. “What are you doing?” Her cheer died when Mayu didn’t reply. “Mayu? Mayu, wake up!”
Still unable to respond…only a few strangled puffs of air.
Skye slid off the couch and onto her knees. She shook Mayu’s shoulders and tried to roll her over. The shaking roused a sliver of life in Mayu’s heavy body.
“Help me sit,” she said.
“What’s wrong?”
I’m dying. I’m ready to go. Gripping the edge of the coffee table, Mayu put all her effort into standing up. The sun’s heat made things doubly difficult and sweat broke out on her face. Skye tugged on her other arm, doing her best to help.
Finally on her feet, Mayu lost her balance and staggered forward. She hit the ceiling-to-floor window and pressed against it for leverage. Breath fogged the glass. Sweaty handprints. Turning to face Skye, she straightened.
“If you say you’re fine,” warned Skye, “I swear…”
Mayu smiled. “I’m very tired. You have abnormally strong Parallel Energy—I mean, a strong brain. You could grow up to do my job one day, if you wanted. You have great potential. It’s gets harder for me to wake up the closer I guide you towards the real world.”
The girl’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Taking a deep breath and letting it out with a huff, Mayu avoided her gaze. She studied her apartment as if seeing it for the first time. Flutters of movement caught the corner of her eye. Looking up, it surprised her to see falling snow and pink cherry blossoms.
“This again?” she said.
Skye stalked closer. “What do you mean, Mayu?”
“I made you a promise,” she said, “to be around for as long as you need me. That…may only be for as long as you’re in the dream world.”
Skye paled. Hands clenched. Shoulders stiffened.
“You won’t be alone, and your parents—”
“If you say they don’t mean to be tosspots, I’ll hit you.” Her lip quivered. “What are you talking about? Where are you going?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then…you’re staying here? In the dream?” Skye’s eyes widened and rage transformed her face. “HOW IS THAT FAIR?”
Mayu jumped and her knees trembled. She looked away. “I’m not sure it is but I… I’m can’t do this anymore. You’ve got your whole life still, no commitments yet, and I… Everything’s disappearing, everything I love is broken or gone. I’m a weight holding everyone back. But for you—”
“That’s stupid!”
Skye shoved her in the chest and Mayu gasped. She caught a glimpse of Skye’s furious expression, her watery eyes, before flying backwards. The window smashed against Mayu’s back and her stomach lurched as fresh air billowed through her dress. She caught one more glimpse of Skye—no longer raging but paralysed with shock—and then the building filled her field of vision. Sunlight glared off the glassy apartment complex and the world turned upside down, a blazing white sky, air purification ships and skyscraper rooftops. Mayu fell headfirst in a shower of glass, snow and blossoms.
So far to fall…
Wind tossed her hair as she stared at the ground coming ever closer.
So heavy…
Your face is going to smash into the floor and turn inside out, Mayu thought. Your neck will snap, your skull will pierce your eyes, your spine will crumple. This is it.
She heard Skye scream her name and peered up, unable to spot where she might be calling from. Turning back to face the ground, a person hovered in the path of her fall. Mayu jolted—tried to pull back. Yūta held his arms open, as if to catch her. She only saw him for a second before she fell right through him and he vanished like smoke. No…how could she stop this? Mayu, you’re so selfish.
A dark wave washed into the street below, absorbing everything it touched. Mayu wouldn’t hit the ground and crumple after all. She was falling towards fatal sleep. Closing her eyes, she focused on saving Skye. Every ounce of energy she had left, Mayu poured into their mental connection.
Wake up, Skye. You’re ready.
The girl’s mind roared to life.
