20th November 2011, Japan, Tokyo, Havana Hotel – Suite.
A middle-aged couple were unpacking their luggage, finally able to rest after reaching their destination.
After they finished placing their clothes neatly into the wardrobe, they collapsed onto the bed.
"Haaah… phew." The man let out a long breath, stretching slightly as he rested.
"You exaggerate, dear," the blonde woman teased playfully, poking her husband's cheek. "Is this enough to tire our mighty Issey?"
He frowned and turned his face away.
"You say that, but I was the one carrying all our bags and luggage from the airport to here," he grumbled, crossing his arms.
She laughed softly. "You're exaggerating again. The van carried the luggage from the airport to the hotel, not you."
"You only picked it up from the van and brought it inside," she added. "That hardly counts as labor."
"Say that after you lift 'these' bags yourself. Hmph."
"Eh?! My God?!" Emma gasped dramatically. "You're really going to make your weak, delicate wife carry the bags? How cruel of you, Isaac!"
She sniffed, wiping at her eyes with exaggerated care, fake tears threatening to fall.
He stared at her for a second, unimpressed.
"You know, Emma," he stated flatly,
"I did some acting for fun back in high school. And that was easily the worst performance I've ever seen."
The woman pouted and turned her face away.
"You never understand a woman's heart," she muttered as she looked to the other side.
"Look, Emma," he said, "If you want someone to understand a woman's heart, I'll call one of my friends. A cardiologist or a psychologist. They'd probably do better than me."
Emma's eyes narrowed. "Seriously?!"
Before he could answer with another stupid remark, she grabbed her handbag and threw it at him, hitting him squarely in the face.
"Hey! What's the big idea?!" he exclaimed, catching the bag before it fell.
Emma crossed her arms, clearly satisfied. "Now maybe you'll get the idea."
"Haaah…" Isaac sighed, standing up from the bed and changing into clothes more suitable for the clear weather outside.
Emma remained pouting, her gaze fixed stubbornly to the side.
"You seem in a foul mood," he said, grabbing his wallet and phone from the nightstand.
"Once you've caught your breath, call me. We'll go for a stroll and enjoy the vacation."
He adjusted his jacket, glanced at his reflection in the mirror, then slipped his phone and wallet into the jacket's pocket.
"W-Wait!.. What?!" Emma exclaimed. "Are you leaving me alone and going strolling?!"
"You're in a foul mood," he replied calmly, moving toward the door, "and I'm not in the mood for pointless arguing till night."
"Erm… listen…" Her voice softened. "When will you be free?"
"Hm?" He stopped and turned back to her. "That was a sudden change in tone."
Then he stepped closer, smiling faintly.
"You can join me anytime. In fact, I'd actually prefer it. I can wait for you too, so we can enjoy the sights together."
Emma hesitated, then smiled back.
"I know you just want to enjoy the vacation, but…"
She paused, then shook her head. "No, forget it. I'll take a nap and join you later."
She rested her head against the pillow.
"Fuuuu…" Isaac let out a long sigh as he headed for the door.
"You know," he muttered under his breath as he walked toward the elevator, "I may be ignorant about love and romance, but I'm not an idiot."
"I want children too. Just not at the price of your happiness."
Isaac eventually took a taxi, deciding to spend the rest of the day visiting several tourist spots on his own, making the most of a vacation he deserved.
At the base of Mount Fuji.
Isaac was having the time of his life.
He had visited many of Japan's famous tourist spots, saving the best for last: he was currently at the base of the iconic mountain.
He stood quietly, camera in hand, taking pictures of the mountain.
Fuji rose before him like a painted masterpiece.
Its snow-capped peak gleamed beneath the pale sky while soft pink petals drifted down around it. It was peaceful. Almost dreamlike.
Yet, despite the beauty, a part of Isaac's mind lingered elsewhere.
He found himself feeling empty over the fact that Emma hadn't joined him.
She said she needed to "check on something" and promised to join him the next day.
The excuse had sounded casual enough—but Isaac knew better. Being a good liar himself, he had long learned how to recognize one.
And when his wife lied, he could tell before she even said anything. Still, he chose not to press her. Knowing exactly why she lied, he let her be.
Instead, he decided to enjoy the strange harmony of a city where cutting-edge technology and ancient history existed side by side.
By any reasonable standard, it was a perfect day.
The only downsides were Emma's absence—and the phone call they had shared earlier.
Where she had jokingly called him absurd for worrying, laughing as she said that even if heaven itself collapsed onto the earth, Isaac would somehow walk away just fine and would keep her safe too.
He had laughed along.
But for a reason he couldn't quite explain, those words stayed with him longer than they should have.
And his intuition had been right, though he couldn't figure it out.
* * * ISAAC'S POV * * *
The chilling air of a moonless night brushed against my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.
I hurriedly shoved my hands into my pockets to warm up, but the fabric of the empty pockets offered no comfort against the cold.
Sigh.
My pockets weren't always empty.
Two or three hours ago, they held my phone and my wallet, which contained my money, identification papers, and my passport. And because of that…
I was a 34-year-old penniless foreigner in Tokyo. How did I find myself in this situation?
I had been pickpocketed when I least expected it, ruining what had been a perfect day.
While walking back to the hotel, I muttered curses under my breath—not for anyone to hear, just to calm myself a little.
If only I'd convinced Emma to join me and waited for her, or at least kept a backup ID or cash in another pocket…
I wouldn't have had to walk to the hotel—and worse, I didn't even remember the rest of the way back.
"Oh fuck! And if the day wasn't bad enough!" I cursed as it started raining out of nowhere.
The rain only got heavier, and I could barely see the street ahead.
I kept walking until I reached a crossroad with a green light, but I stopped anyway to rest.
I leaned my back against the wall and slowly sat on the ground to catch my breath.
Walking for four hours straight isn't a walk in the park at all.
And this damn leather shoe wasn't made for strolling—if I had known I would have to walk this much, I would have worn something more comfortable.
As I caught my breath, a very smelly man came and stood next to me, then started to rest too.
His mouth was dripping blood, likely from an injury hidden beneath his clothes.
His clothes weren't fancy; he wore striped pajamas, like a prisoner's outfit from old movies.
The pair of pajamas were worn out, frayed, and covered in unwashable stains from many sources.
His glasses were cracked, one leg inverted. Finally, he was even barefoot.
In short, he was a penniless, homeless man—probably in worse circumstances than I was.
Since I hadn't seen anyone for the last half hour, I decided to ask the man for directions.
I looked at him before saying, "Excuse me, Mister…" He shivered, scared, before slowly turning his head to me.
"Do you happen to know where the Havana Hotel is? The four-star one?" The man looked at me with a dead-fish gaze, then shrugged.
I sighed, forcing myself not to curse in front of him.
Now I was literally homeless.
If only these bastards weren't so racist, I would've gone to a police station, reported what happened, and asked for help.
But no identification meant no help.
They even tried to throw me in jail when I tried to report what happened because I didn't have any ID pap—
"Hey! Listen to me, Nanahoshi!" A boy with brownish-black hair shouted, grabbing a girl's arm.
The girl responded with an arm chop, sending his arm away, then pushed him and started shouting back.
"No, Shinohara! You didn't even apologize—and you still keep wasting my time!"
My train of thought was cut off by the loud shouts coming from the middle of the road.
I looked at the three teenagers—middle schoolers, maybe high schoolers—two boys and a girl in the middle of their squabble—
It seemed only one boy and the girl were arguing, while the other boy desperately tried to calm both of them down.
But none realized they had wandered into the middle of the road.
"Apologize? You are clearly the one who wronged—Nanahoshi!"
"No, you are the one who wronged—Shinohara!"
Their shouts grew louder, enough that even the smelly man beside me stopped caressing his strangely inverted rib to look.
"Calm down, you two. Nana, Aki. Calm down."
"Shut up, Kuro!"
Before anything could happen, part of me wanted to step in and stop the kids.
Another part wanted to mind my own damn problems.
Yet somehow, my feet moved on their own toward them—and the fat man beside me started moving too.
Out of nowhere, the fat man opened his mouth, trying to shout, "Watch out!" while pointing at a speeding truck far down the road.
I hardly recognized it, only by the strong glare of its headlights.
But no sound came out of the man's mouth.
Frustrated, he tried to run toward the kids, but instead slipped on the slick, rain-soaked pavement and crashed with a loud thud, blood running from his head and jaw.
Well, at least he tried. He really did try to help the kids out of the goodness of his heart.
(Maybe, after I deal with this, I'll call him to the hotel and help him if he needs it.)
I pointed at the glaring light before shouting, "Watch out!" In English, trying to catch their attention while running toward them.
As I shouted, one of the boys hugged the girl tightly, preparing to take the impact himself.
(The one arguing with her… I believe his name was Shinohara.)
The other boy tried to run to the sidewalk, but the damned slick muddy road made him slip too, and he fell on his face.
I had to get him out of the way first.
I ran as fast as I could, scooped up the fallen boy, then yanked him out of the way.
Before I could do anything else, a blinding light appeared where the kids had been.
(It almost felt like getting stung by a flashbang again.)
It blinded me for a few seconds.
Suddenly, a sharp pain tore through my back, and I found myself flying through the air.
"Oh, shit!"—or at least, that's what I tried to say. Only a groan of pain came out.
When the truck hit me, time seemed to stretch as I spun helplessly through the air, my body twisting uncontrollably.
While rotating, I saw the truck lose balance and crash into a wall, nearly squashing the boy I'd just saved.
As I tried to locate the other two kids, a loud thud echoed across the street, and blood splattered everywhere.
My vision blurred as a cough tore from my mouth, more blood splattering from my crushed ribs.
Immediately, everything narrowed before turning completely dark.
* * * After 5 minutes * * *
Urghh.
My body hurts.
Huh…?!
Why can't I stand up?
"Cough… cough—"
The cough tore out of me uncontrollably, splattering blood from my mouth.
The force of it made my whole body jerk—pain detonated through me, sudden and total, like my body had been crushed all at once.
My legs didn't respond at all. Only the screaming pain told me they were still there.
My left arm was the same. No response. I couldn't even feel it properly—just the warmth of blood spreading downward, pooling beneath my shoulder.
My eyes hadn't closed once—not even when I'd blacked out earlier. They were locked open, rain burning into them like acid, each drop stabbing straight into my eyeballs.
But all of that was just the prelude.
The real pain came from my back.
It was twisted to an unnatural angle—an angle a human spine was never meant to take.
I couldn't move it. I couldn't even feel it properly. Just a crushing, suffocating agony that told me something vital had been destroyed.
Sounds were coming from everywhere.
People screaming. Shouting. Car horns blaring from other lanes.
I could hear them—but none of it registered.
I tried to talk, to ask for help, to ask someone to tell me why I'm like this—but pain didn't let me.
It wasn't just that I couldn't talk. My vision was very blurry because of rain and blood, and I couldn't register anything in front of me.
The only thing I clearly saw was a police officer standing over me.
He frowned briefly after I coughed, then checked my pockets for identification papers with his flashlight's tip.
Before aiming it at my eyes and turning it on, checking for a response.
When he found none, he reported to his radio:
"The unidentified foreign male. Breathing's unstable. Spine's gone. Mark him critical."
He closed the report before leaving me and disappearing out of view.
The sounds continued to grow louder, but all were Japanese. People saying:
[Is the driver okay?]
[Will he make it?]
[Erm… will the victim survive too?]
[…Highly unlikely.]
Some were wailing: [The high schoolers must be saved!]
Suddenly, I heard a voice louder than all before, ringing right inside my ears, though I couldn't register it at all.
"Lades Zaltok, Zenith!" Huh?! What's this language?!
But the moment I heard this voice, my whole body got shocked unnaturally and uncontrollably.
And with a loud cough that tore through my throat, more blood flew from my mouth.
The officer returned again, this time wearing gloves. He touched my still-attached arm to feel the pulse.
"Life in critical… nothing can be done. He is done for," he coldly reported again to his radio.
Before he said this, I was trying to ignore what my body was saying, fighting it with everything I had.
But when he said it—
Time stopped.
My mind stopped accepting anything.
My remorse and will to fight disappeared.
The thought settled in.
This wasn't something you walk away from.
Just when I was about to surrender, I remembered Emma.
And everything we fought for together.
How she happily smiled when she heard from my friend about Japan's new surgery capable of making sterile women fertile again.
And how she was determined to keep fighting—so what right do I have to surrender like this?
I won't die yet. Not because this idiot said it.
Nor because my body is screaming and breathing like a corpse.
None of this matters. I will survive because I have to.
When I woke from my internal dispute—
He disappeared again from view, but his filthy voice didn't.
"According to the witnesses, there were three high schoolers during the accident. Only one can be found…"
His sound grew more distant with every word until it was barely audible.
"…I need intense search in the area…"
Finally, those were the last words I heard of his useless report.
Hmph.
I won't stop fighting because he said so. Nor will I surrender because my body gives up.
See,
Nothing happened, idiot.
A few minutes have passed and I'm still alive, bastard.
I will keep living—no matter what happened or who said it.
"Hahen Faiom, Paul!" Suddenly, a woman's voice screamed—not just through my ears, but through my soul.
It was too loud, to the point I felt my ears bleed from the ringing.
When I was about to scream from pain and from whatever in hell this language was—
A more violent shock ran through my body, and I coughed uncontrollably. With every cough, more blood tore violently through my throat.
My vision blurred more than ever, and I felt my strength being forcibly pulled out of my body.
The pain coming after these strange words was always worse than the pain already tearing through me.
I heard two more loud voices at the same time afterward.
The first was the ambulance horn blaring, and three men in full paramedic suits immediately appeared above me, doing their best not to vomit.
The second was the paramedics declaring steps one by one.
They started checking my body without touching anything, trying to find the best way to slide the stretcher beneath me.
In a second, they slid it under me professionally, then slowly lifted me and placed me on it.
When they lifted me, I coughed a single weak cough, and I slowly felt like I could breathe again.
They carefully tried returning everything to its right place and subduing the gushing blood before getting me inside the ambulance.
I felt the pain slowly decrease, and the blood no longer poured out like before.
Did I make it? Can I be saved?
"Hahen Faiom Mouy, Paul!" The same woman's voice screamed again—louder and worse than before.
The aftereffect this time wasn't coughing or choking.
This time, it felt like all my strength was forcibly ripped away, as I immediately lost feeling in all my limbs, like someone was flattening my torso.
The pain wasn't just internal or mental.
For some reason, all my remaining blood tried to force its way out of my body, pain comparable to being crushed alive.
The paramedics started moving crazier than before, injecting me with adrenaline. Somehow, they figured out my blood type and started connecting blood bags to the IVs.
"Aaa… err… um…" my friend tried to say something but couldn't, so he immediately tried to stop the gushing blood the paramedics couldn't see.
"And what do you think you are doing?" I heard the trash cop's voice again.
Suddenly, he forced his way into the ambulance and grabbed the homeless man's wrist with a crushing grip.
"Listen here, this is already a pain-in-the-ass job. And the last thing I want is writing in my report that a filthy homeless man killed a pain-in-the-ass unidentified foreigner."
My friend tried to scream or say anything, but his voice wouldn't come out.
"Do you know how—?!" The trash was trying to pull the man out of the ambulance before the older paramedic stepped in and forced him back.
"I believe your message reached us, Mr. Officer," he said calmly, "but this man is my patient too."
"And we are taking him to the hospital as well. So would you be so kind as to wait until he makes a full recovery before asking him what happened as an eyewitness to the accident?"
The idiot didn't answer. Instead, he neatened his cuff, clicked his tongue, and left.
And when I thought only those other two bastard officers were the only racists in the whole country, fate answered me by showing someone who would have proudly worked as a slave trader if he had the chance.
"Don't worry. Everything is fine now. You were helping, weren't you? Thanks—but next time, let us do the job."
"He Tlie Un Ome Nou Vuy Gome, Shiine!" The voice screamed again inside my head.
And immediately, I lost the ability to see or feel anything. The only things still attached to me were my hearing and my working brain.
And neither was giving me good answers.
The screams and shouts of the paramedics were loud. Even if I couldn't register them, I still heard them perfectly.
They were screaming—one is DNR, the other is Delta.
One was wailing, asking Yama to be merciful to these souls.
The old paramedic cursed this strange day.
But even though the words were right above me, I couldn't hear them clearly.
The only thing I saw were dark, giant silhouettes moving above my head—one of them placing a hand over my chest and head.
Are they here to take my soul?
Hah.
…
Should I stop denying it?
It's clear now.
Should I recite my beliefs too?
But I can't remember anything.
Can they at least let me see Emma one last time?
Haaah.
"See you in heaven, Emma," I said in my head as one of the silhouettes lifted me.
At the same time, I suddenly felt my eyes slowly opening again—and my mouth moving again—but all the words the paramedics were saying got cut off.
..
..
Suddenly, the dark silhouettes gained color—yet everything remained too blurry for me to comprehend.
When I tried to open my mouth to speak, nothing came out.
The same happened when I tried to move.
I still couldn't move a toe.
The only thing returned was the ability to be breathe.
Though I could only manage—weak, shallow, painful breath.
The pain was still there, spread across my entire body, but it was far weaker than before.
I kept trying to force out a sound, to move anything at all, when I heard a baby giggle—and at the same moment, I finally produced a sound myself.
…What?!
What's a baby doing here?
The silhouette holding me stiffened, staring down at me with wide eyes.
I still couldn't see clearly, but her gestures—her expression—were readable enough.
Then she moved her hand to my head and chest.
Just like the shadowy one earlier.
She began speaking those same strange words—the ones that had brought pain before.
I shut my eyes and clenched my teeth, bracing myself for pain.
But nothing happened.
Instead, the pain began to fade. Slowly. Piece by piece.
My body… felt lighter.
Still expecting some pain that lagged I slowly opened my eyes.
?!
When I opened my eyes again, they opened immediately. No pain. No delay. Slower than normal, maybe—but they opened easy enough.
The blur receded.
Colors sharpened. Shapes settled. Space itself started to make sense again.
Eh?!
The silhouette holding me… it's a human?!
And a woman at that?!
And she's crying?
…Why though?
The huge man beside her is crying too?
What exactly happened while I wasn't aware?
Are they crying before telling me I'm going to hell?
Hah.
They should save their effort. If someone like me made it to heaven, then something somewhere went horribly wrong. I don't even deserve to smell the place.
Again?!
I tried to speak for the second time.
But What I heard it was unmistakably a baby's voice.
And this time, it was far easier. Too easy.
Still, the sound was strained. The baby is clearly suffering from horrible pain to produce sound like that.
My body hurt too. Badly. Even if it was nothing compared to earlier.
The two giants started talking rapidly, overlapping each other like people who'd lost their minds, before the woman once again placed her hand on my head and chest.
(Somehow, from the day start, fate still managing to belittle me, someone who is a giant by Earth's standards.)
She spoke those strange words again.
Then her hands lit up with a soft green glow, drawing my eyes to it.
Warmth spread through me.
My body kept improving—bit by bit—until, for the first time since waking, I felt… human.
The blur in my vision became tolerable. I could actually see now.
And that's when it hit me.
This isn't a place for judgment.
These people—giants or not—aren't angels. They don't fit that image at all.
The woman holding me is blonde, blue-eyed. European features.
But her clothes—
A white nightgown.
This isn't ceremonial. This isn't divine.
I forced my eyes elsewhere.
(If this is still some kind of test, the last thing I need is failing it. I'm a loyal husband. Emma comes first.)
The man nearby—
Even through lingering blur, his body is terrifying.
Muscles that make the ones I had feel like a joke.
Dark-blonde hair. The kind that belongs on a model.
Only his tears strip away that composure.
When I finally managed to move properly—and they realized I was fine—they erupted into celebration, placing me onto something small...
A crib?
…No. A bed. Comfortable. With fences?
Great. Still belittling me. Whoever responsible for what's happening for me today. He is doing a great job destroying my ego.
I'm a grown man, damn it!
When I tried to voice my complaints for the third time, a baby's giggle rang out again—clear this time.
Close.
Very close.
Huh?! Can someone explain to me what's happening in here?
Am I some kind of caretaker for a newborn?
Is that it?
Is this my role?
Is this the exam?
From Earth to wherever hell my brain is in now, I need answers.
Suddenly, the blonde man leaned in and kissed me mid-celebration.
Ew, disgusting.
I nearly gagged.
What the hell is wrong with him?
When I tried to curse him out, only a baby's voice came out—for the fourth time.
…
...
Okay.
No.
That's too much.
Something is very, very wrong.
Before I could process it, the blonde woman lifted me and pulled me close to her chest.
Oi! Oi! Lady, at least cover yourself first!
Then out of nowhere she exposed her breast and pressed my mouth against it.
When I tried to push away—
I saw them.
Baby hands.
A small, soft, red new-born hands on her chest.
And at the same time—
I felt my own hands.
Touching her breast.
That mean the small hands....
No, they aren NOT mine.
No!
No! No! NO!
Someone tell me I'm in a coma. Please. Anyone. Right now! I'll wake up any second. Now! Wake up! Now I will wake! I'm waking any second NOW! This is just my brain misfiring. I will wake, right?
I screamed inside my head like a madman.
But my body—
My body accepted it.
Naturally.
Instinctively.
It latched on, drank, acted as if this was normal.
SOMEONE WAKE ME UP!
The man kept kissing both of us, hugging the woman, shouting incomprehensible words as he jumped around.
Just then I finally felt full, my body stopped on its own.
The woman, following instructions from a third voice, tried to make me burp.
Huh?! Since when there were a third person in the room?
But she failed.
The owner of that third voice lifted me instead, patted my back carefully—
Three seconds later, I burped.
And then the weight returned.
Sleepiness crept in.
My eyes began to close on their own.
Yes,
I should sleep.
When I wake up, I'll be in bed beside Emma.
This will all have been just another one of those strange dream.…Right?
Clinging to that hope as everything faded to black.