Lacrimo Crystallinus

Looking up at the digital clock hanging lonely on the white-gray wall, my thoughts were still fuzzy. The doctors told me hours ago that I’ll be a little hazy for a while, but I feel as though it’s been too long this way. However, my gaze wanders to the empty doorway, and I wonder how long I’d been sleeping. When did Gackt leave my side? Did he visit me while I was sleeping? My eyes are dry at least, but I dreamt of Zhang again—I had had no solace even in the land of dreams, but at least I was healing.

Lifting my head again, I try to focus my eyes and look at the doctors outside my room. They are clothed in that pastel-blue color and are sitting behind desks, mulling around lazily, some are even chatting with one another, as if it is a high school rather than a hospital. I wonder if it is always like this, if it is actually like Scrubs and House MD and other doctor shows. Do they really have sarcastic, but loveable doctors who suck at breaking the news to their patients? I smile at the thought, but the lightness fades quickly when I look again at the clock. My mind is still fuzzy, but… didn’t Gackt say he would be back by five? I wrack my mind for the answer, and contemplate using my cell phone to call him, but I decide against it.

Hours pass and I am bored out of my mind. I take up daydreaming, thinking of happier, easier days. I wistfully remember of the day Gackt took me to the expensive French restaurant and I first saw his car, his Honda NSX that I had so gracefully called a “Honda S-E-X”. A smile tugs at my lips, but they are like granite, and refuse to move very far. One of the older nurses arrives to check up on me and smiles sweetly before setting the clipboard at my feet.

“How are you feeling, honey?” she asks as if she is my mother. “Are you still a little sleepy?”

“My head feels fuzzy, but I think I’m okay… my arm hurts.”

She frowns and scribbles furiously at her clipboard. “Your x-ray is being examined right now, but the doctors think it was a clean break, so that’s good. And the… other test is being examined too. Does anything else hurt?”

“My… um…” I flush, not wanting to say the word. “But that’s normal… right?”

“Oh sweetie,” she says almost sadly, brushing the hair from my eyes. Her smile appears very sincere and pained. “It’s perfectly normal, dear. There wasn’t anything… abnormal… when we checked. It’s normal for women that have never done that before to feel pain and without proper procedure during, it’s common for pains extending past the area of penetration.”

“Oh, um… thank you….” I manage, troubled by the haziness of the memory. Though I know it happened only hours ago, possibly a day or two at most, it seems as if it happened so long ago. I smile back to her, though. “Have you seen my… friend? He is thin, kind of tall, and Japanese… he was probably wearing sunglasses.”

Her gaze is thoughtful, and it lingers for a moment longer than necessary on my face. “That handsome young man? Oh yes, he was here while you slept. The fellow refused to leave even when we told him that we had just put you under. The police took him to the station for questioning.”

“Did he come back before I woke up?” I ask, knowing I must sound a little more concerned that is appropriate. “I’m sorry to ask this of you…”

“Don’t worry, honey. He hasn’t been back yet, but he seemed unwilling to leave. I understand men, and I know for sure he’ll be back, I guarantee that.” She smiled at me, and I wondered if she knew about our secret. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

Several more hours pass and I become more worried. The feeling that something is wrong sits in my stomach like lead. I find myself unable to escape into my half-reality, and instead, I stare out the window, looking for Gackt, expecting to see him at any moment. All weariness has left me and my mind feels sharp and clear… but so does the pain in my arm. A younger nurse checks on me periodically, and explained moments ago to me that the older nurse left for the night. I nodded. It’s been two hours and I feel lonelier than I have in a long time.

I turn away from the door after an hour or so of unending vigilance, sleep beckoning sweetly. As I’m about to drift away and into dream, the sound of the door swinging open makes me jolt awake. I turn toward the door excitedly, but my enthusiasm diminishes when I realize that my parents are standing in the door with glossy mahogany boxes and some plastic bags. A pang of guilt strikes me forcefully at the realization that I would prefer to see my boyfriend over my parents. I shake away my earlier disappointment and find that even though I would prefer to see Gackt now, I am still grateful to see my biological parents together, for once.

My mother, with tears in her eyes, slides the box onto the counter and rushes over to me, her arms, sure and strong, wrapping around me as she sobs into my neck. With my uninjured hand, I stroke her long black hair softly, stifling a sob of my own. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there! I’m sorry… I should have stayed… I’m sorry…” she cried incoherently. I sniffle.

“Mother, it’s okay. It’s not your fault… I’m—I’ll be okay.”

She sobs again and I can feel the hot tears soaking through the thin gown provided by the hospital. “Oh Bao, you always were so strong… my baby…”

“Mother, please—he’s gone… he got what he deserved,” I assure her, squeezing her to me for a moment. I force a laugh. “You’re hogging me, mother!” She laughs too and steps away, wiping her face on her polar fleece sleeve. My father sits beside the hospital bed, his eyes full of sorrow and pain as he looks upon me in silence for a long moment. His hand clutches mine as if afraid that I’ll slip away if he doesn’t.

“Bao, we’re so happy you’re alive… we’re so relieved that you are well… well enough to laugh, at least,” he says with a smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes. His hand slides over mine, gently caressing it. “Tell us how you feel.”

“We’ve been worried. So worried!” my mother adds, sniffling.

“The doctors are evaluating my tests tonight, but they think my left arm is broken. My femurs are bruised and my ankle is sprained, but otherwise, I’m fine,” I say, holding on tightly to my father’s hand, calloused from all the manual labor he’s done. He shakes his head.

“What about the rest?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you feel?”

“I feel…” I pause, uncertain of how to answer. “I feel used and dirty—secondhand. I feel like he literally took something from me, but I also feel angry. I want to slap him hard.”

My father nods in understanding. “I would like to do more than that to the little bastard.”

“There’s nothing more we can do, father,” I say, stroking the back of his hand with my thumb. “We must let the law have its way with him.”

“I know,” he says grudgingly. “And that’s what infuriates me the most.”

I look into my father’s eyes, surprised and afraid of the cold, raw hate I see there as he looks at the floor. It looks eerily like Zhang’s eyes, and I shiver to think of the two as a similar entity, however different the circumstance. We are all silent for a long moment until the door swings open. The three of us turn our heads at the sound, rather than out of interest. Gackt steps in when we have our heads turned toward the door, all leather jacket and sunglasses.