#when I was too bad at hiding my trauma symptoms to try and repress that shit around people who were gonna be weird to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

letswritefanfiction · 7 years ago

Text

Self-Medication

A Kimi no Na wa/Your Name oneshot

Word count: 13K.

Green Tea

“So, what brings you here today?”

They’d already covered the simple stuff. Name, pleasantries, basic info. This Ueda ishi didn’t look how Mitsuha had imagined that a therapist would; her black hair was loose and her clothes were somewhat casual. Perhaps a bit bright for her age, which looked to be forty, pushing fifty. But, apparently, with only a half-hour to meet, she liked to get to work quickly.

Mitsuha quit trying to analyze Ueda ishi’s look and instead focused on the familiar scent of the freshly brewed green tea warming her hands, knowing that it was there to give her comfort and provide a homey atmosphere while she tried to formulate the best answer that she could provide.

“My friends suggested that I try speaking to a therapist,” Mitsuha admitted. “Since this is a free service that the University provides, I figured what’s the harm?”

The woman was looking at her with an implacable expression. Mitsuha knew that she was comparatively easy to read. Her whole body was tense, the epicenter being where she was hunched over her tea and clutching it like someone was trying to steal it. It was like she was aiming to make herself small enough for Ueda ishi to look right past her. She tried sitting up a little straighter.

“Are your friends concerned for you?”

Mitsuha blew on her tea a bit. “I’m not sure I’d say that they’re concerned but…maybe a little worried that I’m not happy.”

A touch of amusement warmed Ueda ishi’s expression. “So, concerned for your happiness?”

Mitsuha blushed. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“What kinds of things have they said?”

A daring sip of tea made Mitsuha’s lips and tongue tingle. She hid her face in the white cup as she said, “They think that I might have depression or, um, PTSD.”

Ueda ishi’s eyebrows rose as she wrote something down in her notebook. “Oh, really? Why’s that?”

Really, it was because Sayaka had decided to go and become a school counselor. When they’d all moved to Tokyo, their respective high schools had all set them up with a session of crisis counseling in case of emotional trauma. Mitsuha had found it uncomfortable—even more so than she did now—as she’d never been in that kind of situation before. Tessie, at the time, had been on her side as well. But Sayaka had loved it; it was how she had learned that she had anxiety. Now she wanted to be able to do the same for others.

And Mitsuha was her next project.

Sayaka had already been working for a few years and had volunteered back when she’d been in university. So it had taken her a good six years before she started going about diagnosing her friends. Mitsuha figured it was because Tessie and Sayaka had started dating. Now that they were all happy, they were hell-bent on getting Mitsuha out of her fabled funk.

Honestly, she wanted to as well. Not because she felt she was actually depressed, but because she desired answers. “Once in a while, when I wake up, I find myself crying. I can never recall the dream I must have had. We call them my ‘lost days’.”

“Lost days?”

Sayaka had coined that term. Mitsuha thought that it was an exaggeration, but she went along with it nevertheless. “Yes. The sensation that I’ve lost something lingers for a long time after I wake up. It affects my whole day,” Mitsuha admitted. “I manage to go to work, complete all of my tasks, but something feels missing. It possesses me.”

“Well, Miyamizu, I will say that that description is consistent with symptoms of depression,” Ueda ishi said as she brushed some of her gray-streaked hair back. Though, that isn’t to say that you necessarily have depression. But let’s go back. You say that you wake up crying?”

Mitsuha nodded. “It’s different from when I usually cry. Tears simply spill from my eyes. And it only seems to happen in the mornings.”

“And you suspect that it comes from dreams?”

“What else could it be?”

“You said that your friends have mentioned PTSD in addition to depression. Perhaps it could be the feelings of a repressed memory?”

Mitsuha frowned. To some degree, she had understood when Tessie and Sayaka had said that she might have depression. Mitsuha thought of herself as a generally positive person, but those lost days…well, they were suspicious. Mitsuha knew that they weren’t normal. But over the years, she’d grown used to them.

PTSD, though…Mitsuha was fairly certain that no one would suggest them unless they knew what Tessie and Sayaka did.

“I’ve never experienced anything particularly awful in my life,” Mitsuha said. “I don’t know what I could possibly be repressing.”

“Nothing from your youth? Perhaps something a little more out of reach than recent history? It could be something hard to admit.”

Something hard to admit…

Ueda ishi was looking at Mitsuha like she could see the truth hidden right behind her face. And Mitsuha knew that the longer she didn’t say it, the more suspicious of it Ueda ishi would be.

“Well, I don’t think that this is the cause of my problems, but I’m sure of why the idea of PTSD occurred to my friends.”

A smile grew on Ueda ishi’s face, like she felt as though they’d accomplished a minor breakthrough. “What’s that?”

Mitsuha looked in her teacup of yellow liquid, watching it swirl around as she rocked the cup in a slight circle. She would catch bits of her reflection in the tiny whirlpool and then they’d roll right past her.

“Well, seven years ago…”

Chocolate Pie

“Mitsuha, over here!”

Mitsuha’s head whipped in the direction of Tessie’s familiar voice as he waved her over to the stools he and Sayaka were perched on. Back in the day, Sayaka would have been embarrassed by Tessie shouting over the heads of a dozen other patrons in a café, but now she was just shaking her head to hide the fond smile on her face.

Then again, back in the day they never would have been at a café in the first place.

“Hi, guys,” Mitsuha said warmly as she took her sweater off and placed it on her lap. Tokyo was fairly mild come late April, but it was still chilly enough at night to warrant layers. “Did you order yet?”

“No, we were waiting for you,” Sayaka said as she handed Mitsuha a menu. “We couldn’t deny you the great pleasure of ordering your own dessert.”

Going out and ordering the fattiest, most saccharine foods they could was an awfully bad habit the three of them had picked up as soon as they’d moved to Tokyo. For their first year or two they had and sampled the local cafés whenever they could afford it. The practice was bad for their wallets and their waistlines—especially Mitsuha’s. Sayaka had filled out a little bit, but in the good way. And Tessie didn’t seem to indulge as much as the girls did, not to mention all the exercise he did—but it was too divine to skip.

Fortunately, by that point they had decided on a few favorites that they frequented. This one wasn’t Mitsuha’s personal favorite—hers was a little out of everyone’s price ranges—but they had really good pie, which Mitsuha was going to order the second the waiter appeared.

She didn’t have to wait long. Mitsuha gleefully ordered her chocolate pie and a coffee. She saw Tessie shaking his head at how obviously excited she was, but she didn’t care. This was, without a doubt, her favorite pastime.

“So, Mitsuha,” Sayaka smiled conspiratorially, “how’s therapy going?”

“Oh, Saya—Mitsuha, you don’t have to answer that.”

“Of course she doesn’t have to, but I thought I’d ask my friend a question about her life—”

“Just because you enjoy talking about therapy doesn’t mean that everyone’s going to be comfortable with it.”

Mitsuha couldn’t help but smile as her friends devolved into a full-on argument. They seemed to fight more after being together over a year than when they’d just been friends. Luckily, it always seemed to be good-natured. In fact, Mitsuha really thought that it showed their love for each other. So, Mitsuha sat back and mindlessly blotted off her lipstick in preparation for the pie that certainly had priority over makeup. Sayaka was getting through with blowing a raspberry before Mitsuha finally bothered interrupting.

“Thanks, Tessie, but it’s okay, really.” Her two friends calmed down and Sayaka shot Tessie a gratified expression. “Therapy is fine. In the last couple of sessions we’ve just talked about Itomori and my parents.”

“Do you feel like you’ve made any progress?”

A slight bit of hope was shining off Sayaka’s face. Some people’s faces hardened with time, becoming cold and untrusting. But Sayaka never seemed to outgrow the glimmers of naïveté that had always shone in her eyes. And it made Mitsuha so want to bring a smile to her face with good news.

“Well, I mean, it’s nice to talk about these things with someone. Working through the family stuff was, uh, nice. Um, it’s possible that I am depressed, but if so, she says that I handle it well. Uh,” she looked at Sayaka’s expectant face, “and that’s it. So far.”

She finished with a deflated shrug, happy when the waiter returned with a pot of coffee so that she could focus on that instead of Sayaka’s assured disappointment. She reached for some sugar to stir in. Coffee was always too bitter for her, but it was even more pronounced when it was accompanied with something really sweet. Like pie.

“So are you gonna keep going?”

Again, Sayaka was looking oh so hopeful while Tessie sat back disinterestedly, trying to cool down his coffee. At least, he looked disinterested, but Mitsuha caught him arching an eyebrow in her direction for just a moment before his eyes flitted back to his drink.

“Of course I’m going to keep going. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, you just don’t sound like you’re getting that much out of it.”

Mitsuha shrugged, not sure what she was supposed to say. ��I mean, I’m not sure that I should be going in looking for answers. I’m not sure that there’s any specific reason why I feel the way that I feel. But it’s nice to have someone to talk to and add some insight. Plus,” she raised her mug as if in a toast, “it’s free.”

Tessie came to life as he raised his mug too. “Here, here!”

“Oh, good!” Sayaka cheered, livening instantly. “You know, I think that everyone should go to therapy on occasion whether something’s wrong or not.”

“We know,” Tessie groaned, rolling his eyes and sharing a look with Mitsuha.

Mitsuha laughed, trying to hide it behind her hand so Sayaka wouldn’t pout. Sayaka had said repeatedly that if Tessie ever proposed—and Mitsuha thought that he was putting it off just because of this—they would have to go to pre-marriage counseling.

The waiter was their saving grace at that moment, arriving with everyone’s wishes for the day, topped off with whipped cream. Mitsuha felt her own eyes glittering as her heart swelled with the kind of love that humans should only have for other people and not chocolate pie. As she lifted that first sweet morsel to her mouth, and she felt her lips puckering as she salivated at the sweetness, she wondered if it was possible for her to be depressed when she could get such joy from such simple pleasures.

Retail Therapy

University was kicking Mitsuha’s butt. She’d been so jealous of Tessie and Sayaka because they’d been able to breeze through university, like most students. But medical school was harder. It was without a doubt the most masochistic thing you could choose to do with your time after high school. Somewhere along the way she’d grown to look forward to her half-hour sessions, because they were a break in which she was fully allowed to not focus on finishing up her—hopefully—last year of school.

They had grown more comfortable over time. She’d had about a half-dozen of them and she no longer hid behind her mug, but rather just enjoyed the familiar tea. And Ueda ishi was growing to feel more like a friend than someone paid to listen to her issues. Especially since Mitsuha wasn’t doing the paying.

Mitsuha walked into the office at sat down, the pleather chair not nearly as comfortable in late-June as it had been in early-April. She was dressed in a short pink skirt and her legs were warm from being outside, so they instantly sealed themselves to the chair, promising to hurt when she ripped them up.

“Hello, Miyamizu,” Ueda ishi greeted as she set some hot water to boil. “How are you doing today?”

“I’m good; how are you?”

“Just fine, thanks.” Ueda ishi sat down in her chair and crossed her legs at the ankles, brushing down her knee-length skirt automatically. “And how was the rest of your week?”

“Uneventful, I suppose. Just work and school, mostly.”

“Still no lost days?”

“No.”

The electric kettle began to bubble and Ueda ishi stood up to pour the water. “No strange dreams?”

“None that I can recall.”

“None that you can recall…” Ueda ishi handed Mitsuha her saucer, which was happily accepted, before returning to her seat. “I find that dreams vanish very quickly after waking. The only way to catch them is to write them down immediately. I suggest that you keep a notebook and pen by your bed so that you can record what you remember. Even the slightest detail like an image or an emotion.”

Mitsuha nodded. “I can do that.”

Mitsuha went out that afternoon, intent on following Ueda ishi’s instructions. The fact that the instructions were fun was just a perk. Notebooks and stationary were beautiful and always fun to look at. Plus, it was just a little bit of indulgence without being as expensive as, say, buying a new dress or some shoes.

After some time absently browsing, she settled on a navy blue diary with shiny golden stars and a honey-colored moon on the cover. A few more weeks passed before Mitsuha could make use of it.

She woke up that morning with her knees up close to her chest and her pillow damp, as though she’d been crying for a while. She lay there for a moment, letting the tears dribble down her nose before she remembered that she was supposed to write down what had happened. She picked up the shiny new notebook and pen and realized that nothing was in her head. It felt completely empty, save for that tugging feeling of longing that she’d grown so familiar with over the last seven years.

All she could place on the page were the date and the last of her tears.

“Wow. And here I thought you were faking.”

Mitsuha nearly spit out her tea. “What?”

Ueda ishi laughed as Mitsuha tried to collect herself and keep from coughing up a lung. “I’m just kidding. I’m just surprised that we had to wait three months for one of these infamous days of yours.”

“I’m sure I said that they were only once in a while,” Mitsuha rasped. She cleared her throat and wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes. “Sometimes they’re more frequent, sometimes they’re not for months.”

“I suppose you did say that,” Ueda ishi agreed. “Did you manage to recall a dream from this particular bout?”

Mitsuha shook her head. She hadn’t even bothered bringing her dream journal, since she hadn’t managed to put anything of substance in it. “No, nothing. I just woke up crying. As though I had been crying for a while.”

“And the lingering feeling you described…”

“Yes. I felt lost all day. I mean, even now, it still remains. Just not as strongly.”

She knew that the feeling would continue to ebb until the next dream. But it never went away entirely. Sometimes she felt that she had gotten quite good at overlooking it, but today, days after the dream, she was certain that it was still wringing her heart.

Tart

It was getting hot.

August in the city was not fun. At least out in the country there was plenty of tree cover, and grass to absorb the heat instead of buildings and cement that simply radiated it. Not to mention the promise of a huge lake that Mitsuha and her friends had loved splashing about in as kids.

No, August in the city was something else. Mitsuha had been dreaming her whole walk to the café of all of the frozen or iced drinks she could freeze herself with.

She’d finally decided on a frappuccino and a small fruit tart á la mode.

Mitsuha was absently sipping on the drink, trying to enjoy how cold it was before the air conditioning in the café made her regret it. She’d tuned out Tessie and Sayaka’s bickering; she didn’t even know if she’d done so on purpose or not.

“Mitsuha,” Tessie said, obviously not for the first time.

“Huh?” Mitsuha said, all but spitting her straw out of her mouth as she did so. “Sorry, what?”

“You just seem awfully quiet today,” Tessie replied gently.

“Oh.” Mitsuha supposed he was right. She’d been quiet all day. Ever since her last therapy session, actually. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” Sayaka asked.

“I just…” Mitsuha paused, trying to figure out how to explain it. Maybe a question would work better. “Do you remember much about the comet?”

“The one that hit Itomori?” Tessie asked.

“No, the other one,” Sayaka jibbed sarcastically.

Tessie hardly acknowledged the comment, answering, “Yes, of course. How could we forget?”

“Do you remember how it was that we all ended up safe?”

“Of course,” Sayaka started. “There was an emergency dri…” Sayaka trailed off, eyes narrowing as a strange expression flickered in Mitsuha’s face. “That’s not right, is it?”

“Tessie?”

“Well, that’s definitely what was on all the news sites,” Tessie affirmed. “But why would your dad schedule a drill during the spring festival? That was that day, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Mitsuha,” Sayaka interrupted. “What brings this all about?”

Mitsuha stabbed at her fruit tart, the ice cream finally at the optimal level of meltiness to start eating. “We circled around to Itomori in my sessions again. You know we’ve usually just talked about what happened after, because that’s when any, you know, psychological unrest would occur. But this time we were talking about how things were right before and I hardly remember.”

“Well, that’s not crazy,” Tessie reasoned. “It was seven years ago. Of course there’ll be gaps.”

“But I remember what happened after really well!”

“Sure. Because that was a time where you were going through a lot of new experiences.”

He had a point there. “Well, I also remember things that happened, like, ten years ago really well!” Somehow her argument sounded less convincing when she was saying it around a mouthful of glazed fruit and flakey crust.

“Only important or interesting experiences, though,” Tessie insisted. “Things were really ordinary before the comet. But I’m sure you remember the stand-outs still. Like, do you remember doing the ritual that year? That was only a few weeks before the comet, right?”

Mitsuha cringed, the food in her mouth suddenly feeling uncomfortable as she remembered the sensation of having to spit it out in front of a few dozen people. She swallowed heavily.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Sayaka—who had been stealing sips of Tessie’s drink while he was arguing with Mitsuha—piped up, saying, “Let’s go back for a second. If you’re wondering what happened before the comet, why not ask your dad? Certainly he’d remember if it was a drill or not.”

“That,” Mitsuha started slowly, “is not a bad idea.”

With a smug expression on her face, Sayaka shrugged happily. “What can I say? I’m full of good ideas. Now enjoy your ice cream before it melts too much. You know these places frown upon you licking the plate.”

Mitsuha blushed.

Then, only to add insult to injury: “Which we all know from experience,” Tessie added.

Mitsuha hid her face behind her bangs as she reached for her drink. “I’ll ask my dad later,” she mumbled.

“Of course it’s normal not to remember everything in one’s life,” Ueda ishi said. “The only way otherwise would be to have an eidetic memory, and that’s little more than a myth of pop culture.”

Mitsuha nodded attentively. The semester was just about over and she wouldn’t be able to go in for session anymore until school started up again in October. So she wanted to make sure that she got all the answers she could before they went on hiatus.

Ueda ishi had been taken aback that Mitsuha had been carrying their last session with her all week. Especially about something that was so ordinary.

“Yes, I get that, I…understand that,” Mitsuha agreed. “But I feel like something’s missing. Like I should remember what happened in that period better.”

“You said you spoke to your friends about this?”

“And my family. No one was able to remember much more than me. Even my dad didn’t remember what happened just before the comet hit.”

Ueda ishi nodded, pressing her fingers to her cheek, making the fine lines around her eyes more pronounced. “Then you’re friends may be very right and there was little significant about the time before the comet hit. As for the day of, it’s possible that those events were overshadowed by the comet, or a surge in stress hormones overwhelmed the short-term memory, which is proven to happen. But again, all of this is perfectly normal.”

“Even the feeling that something’s missing?”

A hum escaped Ueda ishi’s mouth as she picked up her notepad. “That is interesting. You know what it sounds like?”

Mitsuha shook her head.

“It sounds like how you describe your lost days.”

Ueda ishi took a sip of her own tea, which was probably lukewarm by that point, looking over the rim at Mitsuha’s face. She was slightly slack-jawed and, if you looked closely, it seemed like you could see her thoughts flickering behind her eyes.

After a few silent moments, perhaps unnecessarily, Ueda ishi added, “Maybe they’re related.”

Booze

Mitsuha felt a weak buzzing trailing from her purse up its strap and onto her shoulder. She had a lot of things in there to muffle the device and, consequently, make it quite hard for Mitsuha to find. She was moments away from crouching down on the sidewalk and dumping out the contents of her bag when she finally touched the rubberized edge of her case.

“Hello?” she answered quickly, not even sparing a moment to look at the caller ID. She didn’t know how many times it had already rung and she didn’t want it going to voicemail.

“Mitsuha!”

Mitsuha’s eyes widened as she brought the phone a few inches away from her face. “Sayaka, you’re screaming,” she said with a laugh.

“Of course I’m screaming! Tessie proposed!”

“Oh my gosh!” Mitsuha noticed people on the street eying her strangely as the exclamation squealed out off her. “Sayaka! I’m so happy for you! For both of you! I want to know everything!”

“Thank you! So, we’re absolutely going out tonight and you’re coming with, okay?”

“I’m there!”

“Great! I’ll text you the details.”

“Okay!”

Mitsuha hung up the phone and put it back in the danger zone of her purse, a dopey smile on her face the whole time. Honestly, she shouldn’t have been surprised that Tessie had proposed—it had been a long time coming. But she supposed that no one could be fully prepared for something like that until it happened.

Then the smile seemed to sink a little. Slowly, the happy feeling pulling at her cheeks moved down her body, slithering around her heart a few times before landing coldly in her abdomen. It was the same kind of feeling that occurred sometimes when she would watch an American rom-com. The guy would get the girl through some over-handed gesture and some insipid pop song would play. Sometimes she loved those movies. And sometimes they made her…

Well, sad. And lonely.

And that made her feel guilty, and right then and there Mitsuha knew that she was gonna slap on a nice dress when she got home—to feel good about herself—put her braided chord around her neck as a choker—Yotsuha said it looked trendy and sexy—and get rip-roaring drunk.

For her friends. Of course.

Yomogi Dango

“So, here we are.”

“Here we are.”

“How are you feeling?”

Mitsuha looked down into her tea, wishing that it were a mocha or even some boba instead. Perhaps a nice hot chocolate, even though October was still a little warm for such an indulgence. Maybe a frozen hot chocolate? No, it was too cold for that…

“Miyamizu?”

“Oh,” Mitsuha said, slowly looking up to meet Ueda ishi’s kind eyes. “Um…it’s hard to explain.”

“Take your time.”

“Okay.” Mitsuha looked back at her drink. At least it smelled nice. Nothing decadent, but pleasantly familiar. “I guess I feel kind of heavy.”

“Weighed down?”

“Yes. It’s like time is moving slowly, but yet its passing right by me.”

“So, out of your control?”

Mitsuha nodded. “Very out of my control,” she whispered.

“That’s perfectly normal for people about to graduate,” Ueda ishi said. “Do you feel sad?”

A shrug. “I’m not sure. I’m not sure it’s active enough to be sad. It’s closer to nothing than sad.”

“An emptiness, perhaps?”

“A hole,” Mitsuha clarified. “Like there’s a hole inside of my stomach and the wind is just rushing right through it.”

“That’s a little more evocative.” Ueda ishi set her pad aside and leaned forward on her knees. “I’m starting to understand why your friends thought that therapy was for you.”

“It only took six months,” Mitsuha commented with a wry smile.

A chuckle. “Yes. Impressive. It’s interesting to see; this is quite a departure from your usual composition.”

Her friends had said that to her before about her lost days. But they’d also said that she’d seemed different ever since moving to Tokyo. But, in all fairness, a lot was different. It was only natural for her personality to adjust. Both of theirs had too, after all.

But she didn’t need her friends to tell her that she was different on these days. It was obvious from the second she woke up. Tears aside, for the whole day her heart ached. Or longed. For something. On the outside, her speech was slow and expressionless. Her face was expressionless. The effort to fake otherwise felt useless. Still…

“I’m not sure. Sometimes I think that too, but I more think that this is always a part of me and it’s just the bigger part on these days.”

“Interesting observation.”

It quickly became evident that Mitsuha had nothing else to say. She seemed altogether unwilling to speak unless answering a question.

“Miyamizu,” Ueda ishi began again, “before, it was more or less speculation, but now it seems relatively evident that you suffer from some sort of depression.”

Ueda ishi looked for some change of expression on Mitsuha’s face, but there was none. She was looking straight across the room into her eyes—a gesture that not many of her patients shared—but all that was there was dull resignation. As though she’d already known. Or didn’t care.

“There are about eight different kinds of depression distinguished as of right now. There’s overlap between all of them; some sufferers switch from one to another, some even suffer from multiple at the same time, depending on the diagnosis. Judging from what I know of you…”

Mitsuha did her best to listen attentively. She did want to know. After all, that’s why she’d started therapy in the first place. To figure out what was wrong with her.

A combination of Persistent Depressive Disorder and Atypical Depression. Strangely, having a name put to something didn’t make her feel better.

It kind of made her feel worse.

Ueda ishi had encouraged Mitsuha to list simple things that brought her happiness. Since her bouts of severe depression were relatively infrequent, there was a good chance that regimen changes on those days could help.

All Mitsuha knew was that she wanted to eat something sweet. If anything could improve her mood, it would be something that tasted awesome.

Mitsuha’s first impulse was to go to a café and get something smothered in either syrup, whipped cream, or powdered sugar. Or some combination thereof. But she never went to cafés without Sayaka or Tessie unless it was just to grab a cup of coffee. It was awkward to sit and eat alone. Plus, as expensive a habit as it was for the three of them to frequent cafés, it would be even worse for her to augment that by going alone as well.

So she’d probably go home and snack on some of the reserves she had in her cabinet; though she couldn’t decide if that was more sad than eating alone in a café or not.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her nose catching wind of something that piqued her interest.

A food stand.

Mitsuha caught sight of a man in a loose white shirt boiling some yomagi and putting it on a stick with some red bean paste. Well, it wasn’t as syrupy as her insatiable sweet tooth would have liked, but it did taste good.

And even better: it was right there.

Pills

Another lost day a few days later was what really hit hard.

“This has never happened before?”

Mitsuha shook her head despondently.

Sayaka was looking at her with such pity. Mitsuha hated to bring her down when Sayaka was so happily in engagement, but she didn’t have a session that day and she needed to talk to someone.

Well, she could have stayed in bed until she had to go to class, but it hardly seemed like the wise decision.

“Have you thought about medication?”

“No.”

Sayaka absently twisted her engagement ring around. “It’s really helped me. I don’t even want to think about how I’d be today if I hadn’t started with medication.”

Mitsuha managed a small smile. “I know. We were so happy for you.”

“Tessie and I would both be happy if you could get the same kind of thing.”

Mitsuha brushed her bangs out of the way and pressed her cold hands against her eyes. “I guess it’s just hard to admit you need help from something else.”

“I know,” Sayaka said, putting a hand on Mitsuha’s shoulder. “But it’s just a hump you have to get over before you’re on the other side.”

There was silence for a few moments as Mitsuha curled her fingers so that her eyes were uncovered, but her cheeks still rested on the palms of her hands. Her eyes were pulled down a little bit, and Sayaka staggered a bit at just how sad she looked.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Anti-depressants can take a few weeks before you start to notice a difference. It’s also common to have to try a few different anti-depressants before you find one that works for you. Think of it like dating.”

Mitsuha giggled, being in a moderately better mood than she had been in a few days before. “I’m not sure that’s a good metaphor for me personally, but I’ll take it.”

“Good enough for me,” Ueda ishi said as she wrote down the names of a few medications. “These are the ones I recommend in descending order. I can’t prescribe them to you, though; you’ll have to go to your general practitioner for that. Feel free to call if you have any questions before your next session, though.”

“I will, thank you,” Mitsuha replied as she took a picture of the paper on her phone before folding it and putting it in her bag.

“Since you haven’t been making much use out of your dream journal as of yet,” Ueda ishi began, “I suggest that you use it to keep track of your mood once you start the medication to keep track of any changes.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Ueda ishi bowed her head a little. She then leaned back, crossing one leg over the other and putting her hands on the notepad in her lap. “You are a peculiar subject, Miyamizu.”

Mitsuha blushed a little. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, you say you have had two major depressive episodes in the last week and yet today you seem fine. Almost cheerful.”

“That’s been the mystery,” Mitsuha offered with a shrug.

Mitsuha had been searching for diagnosis. Well, not diagnosis precisely, but answers. And if that was in the form of diagnosis, so be it.

When she’d finally gotten that answer, she’d told Sayaka and Tessie. Tessie, for one, hadn’t known how to react, until Mitsuha had been able to bolster the mood enough to convince him it was a good thing. Sayaka was quicker to jump on board, and shortly the three of them were celebrating with some depression dessert.

The excitement and novelty of a name, however, quickly wore off. Suddenly, every time Mitsuha was feeling unproductive or a twinge sad, she wondered if it was normal or if it was depression. If it was depression, than did that give her a good excuse to feel it, or should she be trying to shake it off?

It felt like a cloud constantly around her. A coat that she’d put on and wasn’t able to take off. And she wondered if she was worse for it.

But she was still functioning. She hadn’t had any grand bouts of depression since the last lost day and Ueda ishi said that was victory enough for the moment.

It was December before Mitsuha was able to record anything of substance. Ueda ishi had suggested the possibility of trying a different drug, but Mitsuha had been hesitant. Perhaps it was the uncertainty in starting anti-depressants hitting her a second time, but she hadn’t had any bad days yet and no real negative side effects, so she was worried that a new drug might be worse than this one.

Then, of course, came a day where she woke up in tears. She had no idea what to expect, and was almost a little nervous to see if her medication would make the day any easier or if it was to be as heavy as all the ones before.

When the day was done, she picked up that lovely blue notebook with its honey-colored moon and honey-colored pages and wrote her thoughts.

I usually report ‘lost days’ as weighed down or out of control…mostly like something’s missing. But today I didn’t really feel any of that? Not even like something was missing. Everything was more of a daze. Really, I just didn’t feel much at all. Not emptiness but just…nothing.

I suppose that’s improvement. It felt more like other days.

Sometimes she would catch sight of a random boy and feel a strange sensation. It had always been weird, because she didn’t even have to see their face or anything. The most cursory glance could send an odd awareness pinging through her body. It had been happening since she was a teenager.

Obviously, she was lonely.

She certainly hadn’t dated anyone back in Itomori. About a year back, Sayaka had laughed at the memory of Tessie’s “very obvious crush on her” but that had left Mitsuha stuck feeling like someone had pinched her coronary arteries off just for fun.

She had never noticed. Never ever, ever. But Sayaka—apparently to this day—made fun of him for it. “It’s funny how things ended up, huh?” Sayaka had said.

“Yeah, haha,” Mitsuha had agreed with choked off laughter.

Mitsuha supposed she could only be happy that it wasn’t a source of strain on their relationship.

As for boys in Tokyo…Well, she’d been too busy just trying to survive senior year when she’d first moved. Then there was surviving medical school, which she was still trying to do. Not to mention taking care of her grandmother and sister, and fostering a new relationship with her dad. Plus, she was too busy falling in love with her dream city of Tokyo—and all the cafés—to fall in love with any boys.

So she’d chosen her own path. But as she sat in her sessions talking about it with Ueda ishi, she realized that it was quite a lonely one.

Realizing that fact only served to make her lonelier.

It had been months since she’d passed a boy that made her body begin speaking for itself. Perhaps even over a year. It was an infrequent occurrence, and Mitsuha wondered if her medication would stave of those reminders of loneliness. She hadn’t been longing for male company hardly at all since she’d started the medication. So perhaps it was working?

All Mitsuha knew was that she was happy Ueda ishi had ruled out Seasonal Affective Disorder. Because when she walked outside, it was snowing.

Her grandmother needed some medicine and it wasn’t too long of a walk to the pharmacist. Yotsuha was busy with homework and her dad had work-work, so Mitsuha had volunteered. She hadn’t even considered the possibility of snow.

So she darted back inside, switched into her rain boots and grabbed an umbrella and went on her merry way.

Snow was almost a novelty in Tokyo. Mitsuha had lost her enchantment with it back in Itomori where it snowed with some frequency. There were hardly any fields to play in there, so it only caused sidewalks to become muddy and dangerous because you couldn’t see where the rocks were. If the snow got really high, you couldn’t even see the steps.

Usually snow in Tokyo made Mitsuha feel an itch of longing for Itomori. If they were lucky, it would snow once or twice in January, maybe February. Never in December. When it came upon them, she would watch as the snow fell, but never ever stuck. It always melted on the windows, at her feet, on her skin. The only place it could survive for a moment was in her hair or on her clothes.

This year, she didn’t much bother with it. She was glad that her rain boots were more than enough and that she didn’t need any extra cling on the concrete overpass. No snow, ice, or even puddles to make it slippery. Besides that, it was nothing more than a little change in the scenery.

Then she felt something.

A feeling that she hardly noticed, and then a harsh ache crashed down on her. All at once she knew that it was more than she had felt in a month and she froze, confused. It was a phantom sensation like she’d done something wrong, like she was guilty of something, but she couldn’t remember what. But the guilt lingered on anyway.

She felt compelled to turn around, but she only saw a boy in a suit walking away.

For a moment, she considered how cold he must have been. The snow had probably taken him by surprise too.

And then she wondered why she was even thinking about him in the first place, and she turned back around.

The tears didn’t come until she was almost at the end of the bridge. She wouldn’t have noticed them had it not been for the cold nearly freezing them on her face. She brushed them away with her scarf, confused, but choosing not to linger on it.

Her grandmother was waiting for her.

Mitsuha didn’t know what it was about fireworks. She’d always scrambled to watch them on TV with her parents and her grandmother. Her mother would be urging her to go to bed even though it was obvious she knew it wasn’t going to happen. Grandmother would doubtlessly tell a story about how much younger of a holiday New Year’s was in comparison to the small town celebrations of Itomori. Her dad would be getting out the champagne.

Then Yotsuha had been born and her parents were busier and more tired. Even Grandmother was getting too old to stay up with her. Then her mother had died and her father had left and holidays were never the same.

But watching the fireworks with Tessie and Sayaka was always something that she looked forward to. And she knew that they did as well.

They continued that tradition in Tokyo, finding a fun festival to join and often partying the night away until the new year began to crack on the horizon. Then it was time to go home and entirely sleep through the year’s first day.

This year, though. This year, as Mitsuha watched the fireworks shooting up into the air and splitting in fiery pieces, she was reminded of a comet cracking into fragments in the night sky. She didn’t know if that caused her to lose enchantment in them or gain it tenfold. Because at the same time that she couldn’t stop staring, she had no idea what it was that she was feeling. She only knew one thing.

It was a beautiful view.

Mitsuha could think of very few things—most involving food—that sounded more fun than the prospect of wedding dress shopping. She and Sayaka had dreamed of going to a fancy salon in Tokyo and trying on designer wedding dresses. Nothing in Itomori could even compare to the things they saw on their phones from Tokyo or—God forbid—Europe or America.

And here they were finally doing it.

Well, the salon wasn’t that fancy. Apparently there was a monetary reason why the dresses in Itomori didn’t compare.

After a lot of flip-flopping, Tessie and Sayaka had decided on somewhat of a fusion between a western and Shinto wedding—but with a western dress!—that would take place in Itomori. It was to take place in June, which meant that there was a little less than six months to get the dress. In other words…

It was crunch time.

“What about this one?”

Sayaka stepped out in a large tulle ball gown and Mitsuha couldn’t help but think that Sayaka looked like a large, heavily frosted cake. Not that that was entirely bad…

“Too much?”

Mitsuha smiled gently, wrinkling her nose and nodding her head. “Maybe try an a-line?”

“Coming up,” Sayaka said.

She was having fun. She really was. But maybe she’d built it up too much in her head since they were little girls. Because as much fun as this was, it just…wasn’t as much fun as she’d thought it would be. Or maybe she’d enjoy it more when it was her own wedding. Right now it was just a vicarious sort of fun and that isn’t as fun as one’s own fun, right?

Mitsuha tried to blink herself out of her thought spiral as she looked around at the frothy, bedazzled creations around her. They were beautiful. And they were gonna find the perfect dress for Sayaka. She was swearing that she was gonna lose three pounds before the wedding, but she didn’t need to.

If anyone needed to, it was Mitsuha. Ueda ishi had informed her that emotional eating was a thing and…well…

Well, it was a good thing the pills were making her less emotional.

“How about this one?”

Sayaka ripped open the curtain to her dressing room dramatically, a goofy smile on her face.

Mitsuha couldn’t help but gasp when she took in the dress. And, more importantly, Sayaka in the dress.

“Sayaka, it’s beautiful.”

“It kind of is, isn’t it?”

The dress had cap sleeves made of lace, which trailed most of the way down the skirt, where it tapered off in little tendrils onto light chiffon, hanging loosely all the way to a short train. And with the perfect pair of heels to make Sayaka less of a midget next to Tessie, it was perfect.

Mitsuha took in the joy on Sayaka’s face and was happy. Happy for her friend.

But a little deeper down, she wondered when she was going to be happy like that.

The time had finally come. Her eight years of school had finally culminated to this moment.

While Tessie and Sayaka had been able to goof off the whole time they’d been in university, Mitsuha had studied rigorously, passed truly difficult classes, failed even harder ones, and suffered a few setbacks in the last eight years all to prepare her for this.

If she passed, she’d be able to be a trainee, well on her way to a medical career.

If she failed…well, she supposed she’d just have to take it again next February.

But right now she wasn’t thinking about that. She was fighting to keep her mind focused. It had been so hard to study the past few months, harder than it usually was. But that was just because the stakes were higher.

Mitsuha twisted the braided chord in her hair around a finger as she waited for the tests to be handed out. She’d pulled her hair back the same way she’d done in high school to keep it out of her way. In recent years, she’d tried to get more creative with how she wore it, but she always liked to have it with her. Her grandmother seemed to talk more and more about the importance of musubi as she aged, and Mitsuha thought that maybe touching the chord brought her closer to something…important.

Somehow, when Mitsuha hadn’t been paying attention, a test had landed on her desk, and everyone else’s. And before she knew it…

“Begin.”

“Well, Miyamizu, I suppose this will be our last meeting.”

Mitsuha looked fondly at Ueda ishi. She was sitting cross-legged, weight heavily against her right hip as her left leg absently kicked at the air.

A few months back, Mitsuha had finally gotten up the nerve to pull legs into her chest, putting her feet on the nice pleather chair. She’d looked nervously at Ueda ishi at the time, but she’d only laughed. Now she did it without thought, as long as she wasn’t wearing a skirt. And it wasn’t warm enough yet for skirts, so her jeans did a fine job of covering her up.

“It is,” Mitsuha agreed, a surprising hint of dolor coloring her tone.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to be of more help to you.”

Mitsuha cocked her head to one side. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Ueda ishi took her notebook and flipped back through dozens of pages, “do you really feel any better than you did when you first started coming here?”

That question surprised Mitsuha. Her first impulse was to say yes, of course, but she supposed that the question deserved more thought.

The truth was, she wasn’t sure. She’d come looking for answers and she supposed that she had found some. Maybe not the kinds she’d been hoping for, but perhaps those were things that couldn’t be answered. Her medication had somewhat flattened the dips her mood took during the lost days; they more resembled her other days.

“I guess I do in some ways and I don’t in others,” Mitsuha answered, fully aware of her ambiguity. “At the very least, it’s been nice to have someone to work through everything with.”

“I’m glad for that,” Ueda ishi said with a bow of her head. “I hope that these sessions have provided you with some coping techniques and ways to consider the feelings that you go through so that you’re better equipped to handle things on your own.”

“I think they have.”

Ueda ishi began flipping through the notebook again, this time to the end. “I still suggest therapy if you’re going through a particularly challenging time. Since you’ll no longer be seeing me, here are a few names and numbers of people that I can whole-heartedly recommend.”

She scribbled down some info on the last page of the notebook before ripping it out and handing it to Mitsuha, who took it gratefully, straightening a leg and slipping it in her pocket. A part of her hoped that she wouldn’t have to go to therapy again, but at least she felt that if she had to face it again, it would be with more confidence. It wasn’t something to be nervous about. It was something to be grateful for.

“Although, if you would prefer to see me, you can call me anytime. But since you’re not at the school any longer, you’d have to pay!”

Ueda ishi said it with a burst of good humor that made Mitsuha laugh. “Given that I’d have to pay either way, I might take you up on that!”

“Alright. Now, one last piece of advice,” Ueda ishi said, sobering up a little as she set the notebook behind her, on her desk. “Keep track of how your medication is making you feel. If there comes a time that you feel it isn’t doing anything for you, or it’s doing more harm than good, talk to your doctor about your options. Okay?”

“Yes,” Mitsuha answered with a nod.

“Okay. Now that that’s done,” Ueda ishi got up to grab their last teas together, “let’s shoot the shit.”

Mitsuha laughed, a touch surprised, but pleasantly so.

“Sounds excellent.”

It was one of those perfect spring days. The first light pink flowers of spring had bloomed and were already beginning to fall, but now everything else was lush and verdant. It was a pleasantly warm day in April, so Mitsuha felt free to don a pair of capris, not having to worry that a chill would give her a flash of goosebumps—and therefore stubbles on her freshly shaved legs.

It was too bad she couldn’t enjoy it more. She was in a daze. Again.

She’d woken up crying, but the medication did a good job of dulling everything enough for her to get on with her day and go on her interview.

The best part of med school—aside from it being over—was being courted basically from your last or second to last year on by places looking for your employment. The world always needed more doctors. Mitsuha had been spending the last month…well, first waiting for her results, but after that she’d been looking at different places to begin her trainee program.

She knew that small towns in the country were the places most in need of doctors; a place like Itomori could really use her. But…as much as time and loss had made her nostalgic for the scenic town, she knew she’d literally hate herself if she moved back to the country. She loved the city. It had been her dream since she’d first became aware of all she was missing. Which had probably been when she’d been old enough to hold her head up and look at a TV.

No, she would definitely stay in the city. Besides, all her friends and family were here. It was just a matter of which hospital.

Fortunately, the one she was headed to was only a short train ride away and hardly any walking. Capitalizing on that, Mitsuha dared to wear some sensible heels to this interview.

Usually, Mitsuha liked to make good use of her commutes studying, reading, or at least messing around on her phone. But on days like these, even with the medication, it was hard to concentrate, so she could only really stare out the window, eyes unfocused.

Then, suddenly, everything sharpened.

She felt a surge in her body, eyes widening first, then posture shooting upwards. That boy…That boy!

That was as far as her thoughts went as her eyes began to water, just a bit. Then the boy, perhaps feeling the eyes of another on them, glanced her way before abruptly gasping. The world seemed to freeze for a second.

And then it started again.

Her train entered a tunnel and it took a few moments for her brain to catch up with her. She needed to get off the train.

She needed to get off the train!

She was in the middle of her car currently—the stop for the hospital was still a ways away—but she began pushing her way through to the door. She knew the next stop was only shortly after the tunnel and she needed to get off if she had any chance of finding him.

And damn it if she wasn’t going to find him.

She’d grown to know the city very well in the past eight years. Probably from all the exploring she, Tessie, and Sayaka had done searching for cafés. She remembered very little of that first time going to Tokyo, but she did remember how scared she’d been of navigating the public transport system. The most motorized thing she’d done by herself in Itomori was ride a bike.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t be sure what train he’d been on, what stop it was headed to, or even in exactly what direction it’d been going.

But direction was her best guess, so as soon as she got out of the terminal, she dashed off in the opposite direction of her own train.

It was all she could do to keep track of where she was going. Even the most innate city-dweller would be hard-pressed to identify their whereabouts as they blurred past you. She turned her head at every cross street to make sure that she hadn’t somehow turned herself around. And to check to see if he was there.

He never was, though.

She reached a staircase and was fully prepared to fly down it when she saw him dart around a corner. Calmly, he began to walk up the other staircase.

And then everything caught up with her.

She was getting blisters on her feet. The heels had not been a smart choice; they were now covered in dirty water, left over from the recent rain. She’d managed to splash water up her legs and even onto the cuffs of her capris. Even though it was a mild day out, the unexpected sprint had caused her to sweat nearly through her cardigan.

And she was supposed to be on her way to an interview miles away.

Furthermore, she didn’t know who this boy was, he didn’t know who she was, and yet here she’d been, prepared to make a fool of herself.

Closing her mouth, as she tried to hide the fact that she was heaving for breath, she began to descend the staircase, hoping that he’d let her pass and she could put this strange incident behind her before her interview.

And yet…hoping that maybe he wouldn’t.

Without her permission, that hope built as she walked down the stairs, and as he walked up them the other way. He didn’t seem to be breathing hard; maybe this stairwell was just close to his stop and he was on his way to work. That would be embarrassing.

Her hope built to an apex as less than a foot separated them.

And then he walked right past. And so did she. And she completely deflated.

And felt awful.

She hadn’t felt that bad since before she’d started on her medication. Usually it seemed to buffer her bad days but right now she felt stupid and mad at herself, but mostly sad. Terribly, terribly sad.

Then:

“Hey!”

She froze. She’d been so far in her thoughts that she hadn’t even seen the stairs in front of her. She wasn’t even sure that her brain had been controlling her legs going down them. But with that one word, it was like he’d reached into her mind and pulled her out of that quagmire.

“Haven’t we met?”

The hope swelled again. She turned around and his voice, his face, the hope made her tears come in buckets.

But they were different. Usually the tears that rolled down her face on those mornings came with an emotion that she couldn’t place, that was fading away from her. But now it was a different one, and it was bursting. In fact, it was all she could do to keep from laughing at the absurd mood-swing that her stomach was flip-flopping to.

“I thought so too!”

When he started crying too, everything made sense. Well, no, it still made no sense, probably even less sense that it did before. No, she felt validated. Like she wasn’t crazy for feeling the way she’d felt before. Like she wasn’t crazy for feeling the way she felt now. And like maybe those unanswerable questions just hadn’t been answered yet.

“Your name is?”

“Taki.”

“Mitsuha.”

They spoke at the same time, but nevertheless heard each other. “Mitsuha,” Taki said reverently as he slowly walked back down the stairs. “Mitsuha.”

“Taki-kun,” Mitsuha whispered, the honorific rolling off her tongue accidentally. She blushed, embarrassed that perhaps it was inappropriate, but he just smiled at her.

“I like it,” he said, seeming to read her thoughts. “Would you, um…”

Up until that moment, he had seemed perfectly confident. He had dared to turn around while she was about to keep walking away. But now she saw a hint of a blush arise on his tan skin as he scratched at his cheek awkwardly. “Would you what?” she asked, letting just a microtone of teasing into her voice.

He moved his hand to straighten his tie as he now avoided eye contact with her. “I was going to ask if you would like to maybe go somewhere, but I now realize that you’re probably already on your way somewhere, right?”

She’d totally forgotten about her interview. Again. There was still a possibility that she could make it on time but…suddenly she didn’t care. She’d already interviewed at a number of places. She still had a few more interviews set up. What would it hurt her to skip out on one?”

“Actually, I’m not but, ah…” A wave of embarrassment swooped up Mitsuha’s spine as she remembered her current state of disarray. Her stained pants and shoes, her sweaty shirt; truly today had not been the day to wear pastels. It was a miracle her hair hadn’t fallen out of its do. “I’d hate to have to accompany you looking like this.”

“You look beautiful.” He said it without skipping a beat.

Mitsuha’s brows raised in surprise. She thought she could see Taki’s own eyes widen at the admission as well, as though he hadn’t meant for it to come out.

“Er, uh, where would you like to go?”

Mitsuha smiled, a twinkle returning to her eye. “I actually know a café near here…”

Mitsuha looked at the bottle. She looked at the piece of paper to the left of it and the one to the right of it. Then she looked at the trashcan.

The paper to the left had a message that Yotsuha had written from the pharmacist, saying that she was due to pick up a fresh prescription. The paper on the right had the names and numbers of the psychiatrists Ueda ishi had recommended to her at their last session. The bottle was empty.

And she was considering leaving it that way.

It had only been about a month, but Mitsuha was feeling different. She was feeling happier. But she was noticing other things too.

She was foggy. It had been harder for her to focus on school and studying and she knew that her emotions weren’t all there. Not even the good ones. She’d hardly been a good maid of honor to Sayaka over the last few months and she hadn’t been able to bring forth much enthusiasm towards her friends for what was certainly the most exciting time in their lives. And she was only just now realizing this.

Because with Taki, that cloud seemed to fade away, and she remembered what she used to be like.

Sure, the lows had been lessened, but so had her highs. And she wasn’t sure that that was any good for her.

She’d always been able to manage her lost days. She’d told Ueda ishi that at her first session. They weren’t fun, but they were manageable, because she knew that she’d come out the other side the next day. And she was in a different place now than she’d been a year ago. She was a university graduate—and it was a long time coming!—having started her trainee program. She had a boyfriend and her best friends were getting married in a month.

Mitsuha wanted to experience those things fully. The good and the bad.

The bottle went in the trashcan.

Cakes

Okay, watching Sayaka search for the perfect wedding dress had been fun. Observing the bickering between Sayaka and Tessie—and all over a bit of facial scruff—was continuing to be fun.

But cake tasting was definitely the most fun.

“Hi, Mitsuha! So glad you could make it!”

“Oh, believe me; I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Mitsuha had already heard the discussions—to put it lightly—between Sayaka and Tessie about the cake. Tessie thought they could save some money by doing it themselves or having someone in the family do it, but Sayaka had dragged him to a cake tasting anyway.

And that had quieted him right away.

But not for long.

“Neither would Sayaka,” Tessie said cheekily. “The only reason we’re having a second tasting is because she wanted more cake, not because she couldn’t decide.

“Untrue!”

“Okay,” Tessie agreed, although not without throwing Mitsuha a meaningful glance.

“Hmph.” Sayaka sat back, pouting and glaring at Tessie before turning it to Mitsuha. And then the expression morphed into one of sharp curiosity. “You look good.”

“What?” Mitsuha asked, taken aback by the abrupt shift. She fingered her hair and blushed a little at Sayaka’s increasingly discriminating eyes. A cake tasting was hardly something to get dolled up for. She was wearing a flared out skirt with a blousy top tucked into it and her hair was haphazardly tucked into its standard half-up half-down.

“You look really good,” Sayaka stated again. “What’s different?”

Then Tessie started to get in on the action. “You know, she’s right. Your eyes look…clearer. Somehow.”

“Oh. Well, I did go off my meds…”

“What?”

“Good for you!”

“Tessie!”

Sayaka was, once again, giving Tessie a sidelong glare. He threw her an exasperated look as he said, “Hey! If this is the way that she reacts to being off of them, then good for her! Not because meds are bad, but because, well, look how much better she looks now!”

“No, yes, that’s great.” Sayaka was sputtering, obviously struggling to get all her thoughts out coherently. “But you’re not going to therapy anymore. Did you talk to your doctor?”

“Um…” Mitsuha couldn’t help but look somewhat guilty. Like she’d been caught with her hands on her breasts in public. “No…”

“Mitsuha,” Sayaka chided. “It can be kind of dangerous to go off anti-depressants like that.”

Mitsuha sighed, feeling like she was talking to her father. Or rather, being talked at by her father. “I know you’re right. I’ll call Ueda ishi later. As soon as we’re done here.”

“Good.” Sayaka looked satisfied before abruptly reverting to looking sharply at Mitsuha’s face. “Seriously, you look great. Can that really just be from going off your meds?”

“W-Well, I have been feeling clearer lately…”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that…” Sayaka went in closely with no regard for personal space. Tessie, meanwhile, palmed his forehead, totally missing Mitsuha’s anxious eyes begging for help.

“What?” Mitsuha finally blurted, drawing away from Sayaka’s prying eyes.

Sayaka sat back, satisfied. “You’ve met a boy, haven’t you?”

“What?” Mitsuha and Tessie said in surprise. However, Mitsuha’s surprise was instantly taken over by embarrassment, untucking some hair from behind her ear so she could subtly hide her face.

Sayaka threw Tessie a look of gratification. “She’s met a boy.”

Tessie looked at Mitsuha with wide eyes, though she couldn’t tell if it was due to intrigue or concern. “Is that true? Or is Sayaka being crazy again?”

“Cr—Again‽ Tessie!”

Tessie put a hand out and Sayaka relented, simply because she was waiting for Mitsuha’s answer too. She could let Tessie have it later.

“Yes.”

The admission was meek, and Mitsuha instantly covered her face with her hands, trying to deflect her friends’ prying eyes. Their words, however, pierced right through.

“Who?”

“When?”

“Where?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Yeah, why didn’t you tell us‽”

“Oh my gosh, you should bring him to the wedding!”

“What?”

“Stop!”

Mitsuha put her hands out towards both of her friends, reaching for their mouths to hush them up indefinitely. But they pulled out of her reach, nevertheless silent, so Mitsuha saw it as mission accomplished.

“How about I tell you all while we eat some delicious cake?”

Tessie and Sayaka looked at each other, trying to figure out if it was just a clever diversion—as cake would be the one thing to unify all of them—or if she actually planned to tell them.

“She will be happier if we’re eating,” Tessie whispered behind his hand.

“I will be too. Okay!” Sayaka agreed, the last word being directed towards Mitsuha. “You guys can try all of those other ones, because I’ve already decided on the French vanilla!”

Tessie groaned, dragging his hand down the scruff on his face. “That’s what I said ten minutes ago!”

“I know,” Sayaka said cheekily, sticking a forkful of cake in her mouth. “But no more bellyaching about it. It’s storytime.”

Whipped Cream

When Mitsuha had shared her love of cafés with Taki, he had been more than happy to indulge her. In fact, it turned out that he had a favorite of his own. When he led her to it, she recognized right away.

Which meant that she knew precisely how expensive it was.

The place was very rustic with strange wicker chairs that could have passed for patio furniture. But the exposed beams shone with light bursting from the bay windows. The place had character. And it certainly didn’t look like a place worthy of a costly price tag, but its menu options were unbelievable.

“I know this place is suffering from a bit of schizophrenia on what it’s trying to be, but I promise, it has the—”

“The best food! I know! This is my favorite café, Taki-kun!”

Mitsuha couldn’t hold back her excitement, even after all these years.

“Mine as well,” Taki said, almost matching her excitement. “My friends and I used to go here all the time in high school.”

“You’re so lucky.”

They found a seat and ordered. Mitsuha wanted to show some restraint, but—oh, who was she kidding?—she just couldn’t. So she got caramel apple pancakes with whipped cream. And a latte…with whipped cream.

Not too long into the lunch, her phone began to ring, buzzing its way all over the wooden table. Embarrassed, Mitsuha flipped the phone over without looking at the screen, the rubberized case helping to absorb some of the vibrations.

“You can answer that, you know,” Taki said.

“No, I wouldn’t want to be rude,” Mitsuha said, already embarrassed that Taki had gotten a salad and she was sitting across from him with her mountains of whipped fat. And sugar.

The phone buzzed again and for a moment, Mitsuha thought that it was going to start ringing again, but she quickly realized that whoever had called had left a message.

“You should listen to it,” Taki insisted. “It could be important.”

Figuring that it would be better to get it over with so they could move on, Mitsuha flipped her phone back forward and unlocked the screen, bringing up her message box. It was a voicemail from Ueda ishi. She hadn’t picked up when Mitsuha had called a few days earlier, so she must have only just gotten around to returning the message.

Mitsuha held the phone up to her ear and listened to the whole message before locking the phone again and putting it in her lap.

“Is everything okay?”

Blinking out it, Mitsuha looked back at Taki. He was looking at her with interest and concern. “It’s nothing.”

She regretted the words as soon as they came out. It felt unnatural to lie to him.

But it wasn’t really a lie. The message was nothing of his concern. It was the same response she would have given had her dad asked. Probably even if Yotsuha had asked.

Eh, definitely if Yotsuha had asked.

He was still looking at her, but the earnest expression was fading as he turned his attention back to his food, forking some leaves and sticking them in his mouth. “Okay,” he said after a moment.

Guilt-free. He wasn’t asking her for more; he seemed to trust that it was none of his business.

And that was good enough for her.

Except it wasn’t.

They made it through the meal, still enjoying each others’ company. Mitsuha managed to eat all of her pancakes and finish her drink, feeling quite satisfied, if slightly embarrassed. Taki asked if she’d like to go on a walk, and her heavy stomach very heartily agreed.

During their last few dates, Mitsuha had marveled at how comfortable their silence was. She’d never appreciated silence much, always seeing it as a bad sign when she was hanging out with people at school. It meant that you didn’t have enough in common or you weren’t interesting or, worst of all, no one wanted to talk to you. That’s why it was always such a comfort that she, Tessie, and Sayaka had always been able to chat about anything. And with the two of them now as verbal as they were with each other, Mitsuha didn’t even have to participate for a conversation to keep going for hours. Even that was comforting.

But just walking through Tokyo with Taki in silence—even though the warmth of spring didn’t take too long to become quite sweaty after a few minutes walking—was pleasant.

Not today, though.

It was eating at her. She knew that the feeling was coming from her response to his inquiry about the message, but that just seemed so trivial to be causing her so much discomfort. Still, it was only a matter of time before it became too much.

“It was my therapist,” Mitsuha blurted out before she realized what she was doing.

They’d been walking side by side, but Mitsuha had stopped, and was only barely resisting covering her face in shame. Taki was a pace or two in front of her and turned around, obviously confused.

“Huh?”

“That call. It was from my old therapist.”

“Oh,” Taki said simply, though not trivially. Mitsuha expected more, maybe some questions or something, but he didn’t seem like he was about to press. Nevertheless, she felt the need to spill her guts.

“I was on antidepressants. I quit taking them just a couple of weeks ago,” she admitted, her voice more muted that it had been at first admission. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing she needed all the passersby to hear. She leaned against a railing, the black paint too warm against her bare legs. Taki followed suit. “My friend told me that I shouldn’t do that without professional guidance, so I gave her a call a few days ago. She just got back to me.”

“What did she say?”

“She said to go back to therapy if things go back downhill, but if they don’t, then it’s probable I made the right decision. I just have to be careful, I guess.”

They were silent for a minute and Mitsuha just focused on the warmth of the black bar against her thighs. The day was at the threshold temperature for her to be able to do this; any warmer and the heat would have been blistering. Still, she imagined that it must have been far more comfortable against Taki’s pant leg than on skin.

“So…antidepressants?”

“Yeah.”

He’d probably figured that she would continue her explanation. Honestly, she hadn’t expected that he would want to know anymore. They’d only been going out a month; was that really enough time spent together for him to be interested in her emotional baggage?

He turned to her, eyebrows raised in curiosity, but a tender look in his light eyes. “How long?”

Well, apparently yes, it was.

“Um,” Mitsuha had to think back, “only a few months. No, actually about six.”

Wow, she hadn’t realized it had been that long. Everything had just kind of blurred by…

“Okay…” Mitsuha noticed Taki shifting awkwardly out of the corner of her eye. He looked vaguely uncomfortable. Though it might have just been the heat; a bead of sweat was forming at his sideburn. “Um, you don’t have to tell me anything about what you’ve gone through if it’s, uh, too personal, but.”

“You want to know?”

“Uh…” Taki looked at her shyly, brushing back his hair from his forehead, trying to take some sweat with him. “Really, I feel like I can’t know you too well. Like I can’t know you closely enough.”

Mitsuha blushed, shifting her body a little bit away from him so he wouldn’t see. “Well, how do I say no to that?” She gestured forward with her head as she stood up. “Let’s keep walking.”

It was hard to summarize something that still felt so ambiguous. How long had she been depressed? Well…who knew? Eight years? Just the past seven months or so? Something in between? Was she actually depressed when she started therapy? Possibly…

So, she decided to show him.

Yotsuha had choir rehearsal on weekends, she knew, and her grandmother had gotten involved in some gardening club in the city. Since there were so few gardens, apparently it was necessary to get involved in a club if it was something you wanted to do.

So, Mitsuha was free to bring him into her house and it was only when she had led him all the way to the door to her room that she realized that maybe that wasn’t quite what she wanted to do. She stopped so abruptly that Taki nearly ran into her before awkwardly taking a few steps back. She turned to face him with a blush on her face.

“Maybe you should stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Taki seemed to be holding back a laugh. “I’ll be waiting.”

Mitsuha returned only a few moments later, creeping out a crack in her door before closing it all the way behind her. She might be baring some of her soul to Taki, but that didn’t mean she was ready for him to see her room yet.

“This is my journal,” Mitsuha said, presenting her navy blue notebook to him. “Or, rather, more of a log of sorts.”

Taki took it, holding it lightly on his fingertips, as though he wasn’t sure if he should be holding it or not. “Do you want me to read it?”

Did she? She reached back, pulling at the fringe of her braided chord. “Um, maybe we should read it together.”

She showed him a few key entries.

“That’s the worst of it,” she explained when they were done. “I’m not really sure how to explain the rest of it. But the pills did make the worst of it better. It just…made the best of it worse too.”

“I understand why you went off of them then,” Taki said, gently handing the diary back to its owner.

Mitsuha ran her hand over the indentations of the cover. The texture of the moon, the foil of the stars, the almost rubbery, soft feel of the black-blue sky. “I’ve been feeling better since being off them,” she said finally. “Honestly, I’ve been feeling better ever since I met you.”

The silence that followed made Mitsuha wonder if her admission had maybe been too much on top of the psychological revelations that had just occurred. But then Taki said something that instantly cleared any doubts.

“The same for me.”

Mitsuha’s eyes shot to his face, looking at him for the first time in a while. He was still looking down, a hint of sadness in his eyes, but the smile on his lips still seemed genuine. “You?”

Taki nodded, then shifted his gaze to the ceiling letting out a ripple of carefree laughter. “I’ve had days like that too. Waking up crying for no reason. It’s been happening to me for the past five years or so. I’m not sure I’d call it depression, but it’s been really hard.” He finally looked at her. “It’s felt like I’ve lost something.”

“And that you’ve been searching for it,” she whispered.

Taki cocked his head a little. “Or them.”

For the first time in a while, Mitsuha felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes and tried anxiously to blink them away, to no avail.

Taki laughed, putting a thumb up to her waterline to wipe them away. “Maybe that’s why you and I cried when we first met.”

Mitsuha grabbed his hand, caressing the palm with her thumb. “Maybe.”

They were content to sit like that for a little while. Mitsuha knew that she couldn’t expect her family to stay out of the house forever, though, and that she needed to be ending this date before her traditional grandmother came home.

“One more thing,” she murmured. Taki looked at her with warm eyes. “Are you doing anything a week from Saturday?”

Wedding Cake

“You’re from Itomori?”

“Mhmm.”

“The town that disappeared?”

Mitsuha was walking around the remains of her hometown, observing the destruction and chaos as well as the peace that had since taken over. New plants were growing at the edge of the crater and the larger lake glittered in the morning sunlight. Not a soul was around for miles.

Save for the two of them.

“That was my old school,” Mitsuha gestured towards probably the largest remaining building. It was sagging and decrepit, so ‘remaining’ was an iffy word, but it certainly was one of the largest pieces of evidence that man had ever been there. “Over there is where my house was and we used to have festivals down there.”

She continued to point out invisible memories with ease, but Taki lagged behind. When he’d asked Mitsuha where the wedding was taking place, she’d just said that it was their old town, out of the way from Tokyo. Obviously, she’d figured he wouldn’t know it by name, so why bother attaching one to it?

Apparently, she hadn’t noticed that everyone had heard of Itomori.

He’d staggered when he and Mitsuha had come to ‘town’ that morning in order to set up all of Sayaka’s requirements for the ceremony. They’d finished setting up, and Mitsuha had offered to show him around her hometown.

“It used to be quite beautiful,” Mitsuha said reverently, leaning against a tree, carefully, so as not to ruin her furisode. She’d already had to tie back the sleeves in order to be of any use in setting things up.

“It still is,” Taki said, finally joining her. “In a way that Tokyo never will be.”

Mitsuha scoffed. “Tokyo is still so much better.”

Taki drew back in surprise. “What?”

Throwing him a sassy smile, Mitsuha said, “I always hated it here. I couldn’t wait to move to Tokyo. The comet just made it come a little faster.”

“You don’t care that your whole town was destroyed?”

That brought a somberness to Mitsuha’s eyes. “Of course I care. But it feels dishonest to claim to miss something that you didn’t like back when it was around.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” Taki began kicking at some of the rocks, digging down to the dirt and uprooting small shoots. Having so much nature around was almost a kind of culture shock after living in Tokyo your whole life.

“Still,” Mitsuha sighed, looking out at the lake, “it’s nice to be back.”

Silence in Itomori was different than silence in Tokyo. In Tokyo, it consisted of the sounds of traffic and trains passing by. Maybe an alarm going off somewhere in the distance or a dog barking, and lots of muffled conversations from people at every angle.

But here…well, it still wasn’t silent, but it was quieter. All around were the sounds of bugs or leaves brushing up against each other when the wind hit. Taki bet that down by the lake there was the peaceful sound of water lapping as well. He could probably record all that and sell it as a sleep track online.

“You know, I’ve been here once.”

It was Mitsuha’s turn to look shocked. “What‽”

Taki chuckled, knowing that would be her reaction. For some reason, whenever a new thought occurred to him, he felt the need to share it with her. Like withholding any information from her was as unnatural as missing a whole night of sleep or having an arm spontaneously grow out of your back.

When Mitsuha had worked through all of her typical reactionary phases: surprise, skepticism, disbelief, and annoyance, Taki spoke again. “About five years ago.”

“Really?” Back to skepticism.

“Yes. Me and two of my friends.”

“Why?”

Mitsuha’s interest had pulled her off of her tree and she was looking at Taki with so much confusion that he couldn’t help but smile at how cute she looked. He shrugged. “I don’t remember. They left without me and I woke up on some mountain.” He looked around, trying to figure out which direction the mountain was, but the whole area was so hilly that he couldn’t even tell where they’d entered the town from.

Mitsuha laughed a bit. “That’s a strange story, Taki-kun.”

He scratched his head, “Heh, yeah, I guess it’s not much of a story after all.”

“It’s nice, though.”

Taki looked at her doubtfully. “Is it?”

Mitsuha smiled that wide smile off hers. She had such thin, pert lips, but they seemed to split across her face when she smiled fully. “It’s nice that our histories braid back that far.” She touched her chord, still in her hair, but now just an accessory to a fancy updo. “Musubi.”

“I’ve never thought about it much,” Taki mused, “but it seems that I should remember more from my trip here. I mean, we couldn’t have come here without a reason. It’s so out of the way. And try though I might, I can’t fathom what I could have been doing on that mountain.”

Mitsuha reached over and brushed his bangs out of his eyes. “I guess we both have some lost memories of our time here.”

“I guess so.” He smiled. “We have a lot in common.”

“And here I’d thought I’d never have anything in common with a handsome Tokyo boy,” Mitsuha said through that smile of hers.

“Handsome?” Taki asked, all kinds of teasing floating around in his voice.

Mitsuha shoved him away, continuing their walk through the nature and the debris. “Oh, please. With those eyes, you know you’re handsome.”

Taki pulled out his phone and looked at it. There might not have been any service or wifi for miles, but the clock still worked.

“Everyone else should be arriving soon,” he said, grabbing Mitsuha’s hand. “We should head back.”

He began walking back the way they’d come when he felt a tug on his arm. Mitsuha was looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“Do you know where you’re going?”

At that, Taki blushed and looked down. “No.”

“That’s what I thought,” Mitsuha said smugly, pulling ahead of him, keeping a tight grasp on his hand all the while.

The ceremony was, honestly, harshly bipolar in Mitsuha’s opinion.

Sayaka was in her beautiful, western lace and chiffon wedding dress and the boys were in tuxes while Mitsuha was in a furisode and her grandmother was in a kimono. Sayaka and Tessie were exchanging sake—thankfully, not the same kind that Mitsuha had experienced in her youth—but the ceremony was more like a western chapel wedding than a Shinto-style.

But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was right beside her best friend as she was marrying her other best friend. And that she was privy to a rare moment of them looking adoringly at each other, not a word of bickering on their lips.

After the ceremony was over, it was time for festivities. It was strange up on the flat in front of the school instead of down where the square had been, but it was the only large area of land around that hadn’t become overridden with plants and felled rocks.

But Mitsuha didn’t muse on that for too long. Because it was time for cake.

At their second cake testing, Sayaka had been true to her word and not let anyone else get so much of a nibble out of the French vanilla cake. And the other flavors had been to die for, so Mitsuha was practically drooling as she waited for it to come to her.

And then the moment of truth came.

Sayaka, having already gotten her piece, sidled up next to Mitsuha saying, “Oh my God, it’s even better then I remember it. This is what the dieting was for; not the dress, but so I can eat as much of this cake as I want and not be fat for my honeymoon.”

Mitsuha laughed. “You’re really building this cake up, Sayaka. I hope it delivers!”

An eyebrow arched, Sayaka said, “Oh, please; knowing you, you’ll like it even more than me!”

Anxiously, Mitsuha forked a sliver of the large wedge of cake that she’d gotten and lifted it to her mouth. And then she moaned. “Ugh, so good.”

Sayaka smiled, smug and satisfied.

Mitsuha liked things sweeter, more decadent than any of the rest of her friends. So, usually she had a different taste in desserts, even from Sayaka, but this cake. Yes, the taste was a soft, subtle vanilla, but the texture was so light it made you feel like you could eat it for days. But then the frosting was thick and sweet, so a little bit of it went a long way. When the wedge of cake somehow disappeared before it’s time, Mitsuha used her finger to wipe every bit of that white frosting off of the plate so none of it went to waste.

And then it was time for a second piece. A benefit to a small wedding: you’re able to go up for seconds. And thirds.

Meanwhile: behind them…

“I think they’ve forgotten all about us,” Taki said, having quickly made friends with Tessie, seeing as how they were the only boys there of even remotely the same age.

Tessie was stroking his chin. “And here I thought that she would be most excited over the fact that I finally shaved.”

“No contest for a bit of cake, I guess…”

Suddenly, Tessie stiffened. “You know, there’s a good possibility that this is the only reason she married me.”

“To have wedding cake?” Taki laughed. “That’s not true, man.”

Tessie looked at Taki darkly. “We only just met. You don’t know.”

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to see what happens when Mitsuha and I get married.”

That earned Taki a strong look from Tessie. Taki didn’t know him well enough to discern what the expression meant, though. “What are you talking about?”

Taki pulled a small box out of his pocket. He didn’t even need to open it for Tessie to know precisely what he was talking about.

“I’m doing it tonight.” Taki put the box back before the girls noticed—not that they were bound to while there was still some cake left.

“That’s kind of crazy,” Tessie said. “It’s only been a couple months.”

“I know,” Taki agreed. He looked around, admiring the increasingly familiar scenery. “But seems this is the right place for our story to really start.”

FIN

DISCLAIMER: I want to address some things that I couldn't make explicit within the story, because the characters didn't explicitly know. This is not a cautionary tale against medication. Medication is absolutely the right choice for some people, as we see in Sayaka. But it wasn't great for Mitsuha, because her condition wasn't actually depression; she didn't have the chemical imbalance in her brain that the pills were trying to correct, so the pills didn't help they way they should. They made things foggy for her—a common side-effect of anti-depressants—and lowered her sex drive. But, to complicate things, Mitsuha did develop a kind of depression or depression-like state, especially once taking the pills. We see this in a loss of satisfaction primarily, and inhibited emotional state. Even before the pills, being diagnosed with depression was confusing for Mitsuha, because she took it on as a label and then began to perceive everything she did and felt as relating to depression. This is not a caution against being diagnosed—diagnosis is good. False diagnosis is not good. And Mitsuha does suffer from somewhat of a misdiagnosis, to no fault of the fictional character of Dr. Ueda. (Therapy is also a good thing! It helps and hurts Mitsuha in this story, but really, therapy is good!) It is the fault of science fiction, which she was not trained to deal with, haha. Lastly, having a boyfriend is nice, but being in a relationship does not solve all problems and it certainly doesn't solve mental illness. To reiterate, the fact that Mitsuha's 'depression' vanished when Taki entered her life is the science fiction. Also, please don't self-medicate.

#kimi no na wa #your name #fanfiction #depression #mental illness #medication

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