Lacrimo Crystallinus

She is here. She is here.

She is here.

Though my mouth is dry and tastes of medication, though the ocean taunts me, though I haven’t spoken in a month, though I’d never dared to let myself hope that she’d return, she is here. She is here!

All of my memories did not do her beauty any justice. In the time we’d been apart, she looks different to me. Her face has become more egg-shaped and mature. Her eyes have also lost their innocence and her skin has lost its color. Although she is different, she is the same, and everything she represents is the same. I feel tears threatening as I gaze on her. She is beautiful; she is everything that should be. She is Bao.

“Sa—Satoru!” she calls with her wonderful voice. Her beautiful amber colored eyes are rimmed with fresh tears that sparkle like glass. My throat constricts. I offer her a weak smile. “Satoru!” I could listen to her say my name over and over again if it weren’t said with such anguish. I look at my sister and she nods knowingly, slipping out of the room so quietly that Bao doesn’t seem to notice her exit. Bao moves to my side and grasps my hand under the blankets, her slim fingers curling and squeezing gently. She is warmer than I. “I . . . I’m so sorry, Satoru. I’m sorry for doing this to you.”

I shake my head, even now unable to speak. A tear slides down my face and for once, it is not of sadness. I can do nothing but stare at her, at her face that remains exquisite even in sorrow.

“I don’t blame you anymore. I was trying to call you for about a week now, but your phone . . .” I nod. “I’m sorry.”

My fingers glide across her petal-soft cheek and I look deep into her eyes. “So am I.” Her fingers brush against the back of my hand and she holds it to her face, turning toward my palm. The tears rimming her eyes have grown fat and spilled over. One of them slides between my fingers and into my palm.

“. . . Is it true? Is it true that you stopped speaking to your friends . . . because of me?” she asks, her sweet voice breaking.

“Yes,” I say reluctantly, looking away from her. “I didn’t speak to Suzumura, Takanori, or Momoe. I couldn’t face people or their sympathy for me, the way they look at me with that pity in their eyes. I don’t want pity, but sometimes, I think it was worse that I didn’t speak.”

“Why?”

“They would still talk to me, you know, the way that one would talk to a mentally handicapped person or one in a coma. No one knew what I felt or thought. I just held everything in until . . . this happened.”

“What happened? Momo wouldn’t tell me anything; she just said that you needed me.”

“I tried not to think about what I’d done to you,” I say, running my fingers through her hair, inhaling her sweet scent. “But at night, when I could not avoid myself, it came back to you . . . always. And it hurt me. Guilt gave me insomnia and eventually made me sick. Early one morning, I woke up and my heart was beating too quickly. I collapsed in the hallway of a Shanghai hotel, found having fainted while knocking on Takanori’s room door.”

“Satoru!” Her voice is full of concern and regret. “I didn’t know . . . When Momo told me, I didn’t really believe it. I thought she was saying it to get us back together. I’m sorry . . . I’m really, really sorry.” She squeezes her eyes shut and tears, fat and hot, leak out and down her cheeks.

“What I did was horrible. I know that.” I tilt her face up long to kiss her. Her eyes open and the light in them wavers like the surface of a moonlit lake. “I will spend forever trying to prove to you that my feelings have changed. I will spend forever trying to prove . . .”

Her breath catches in her throat as I speak, and her eyes close almost as if in defeat. “I love you, Satoru Okabe.”

My lips part and the words manage to escape the tightness of my throat. I even manage to smile. “And I love you, Bao Zhao.” Tears drip down her cheeks and she buries her face in my chest. I hold her tightly.

“I am ready,” she says, her voice wavering as her form flutters with each contained sob. “I’m not afraid anymore.”

“Of what?”

“To face the future. With you.” She leans up to kiss me softly on the lips and I feel my entire body give in to the gesture. I feel as though she could do whatever she wishes with me and I would be happy. My hand slides across her face and I pull her closer. Just as I begin to feel faint, she pulls away and inhales. She smiles sweetly and her hand moves up my chest, clinging to my shirt. “Please get better soon. I plan to be here for a week and a half, but I was always hoping that you would show me around a little . . .” Her eyes glint happily. I smile too.

“Of course. I’m sure I should be better in a few days. Enough to give you tours of my favorite places and perhaps a tour of someplace a little more . . . private.” She blushes and smiles.

“I think I would like that.” She kisses me again, this time lightly.