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"Wake up, Okazaki."
Tomoya groaned, and rolled over in a futile effort to get away from the familiar and insistent voice in his ear. This had to be a dream. Why else would Tomoyo Sakagami be doing here? She hadn't come over to wake him up in the mornings since--
The world came abruptly into focus and he realized with a start he wasn't in bed at all. He'd fallen asleep on the couch where he'd collapsed the night before, still in his ratty jeans and stained t-shirt.
But he hadn't imagined the voice. Sakagami stood over him, a pink frilly apron over her floor-length skirt and dark blue jacket.
Tomoya flinched. "What are you doing here?" he rasped. His head and shoulder ached like hell, and his mouth was dry and parched, as if something had crawled in and died overnight.
"What do you think? I'm here to wake you up, of course."
Sakagami's voice was cheerful enough, but her smile was nervous and tight and she was watching him like a hawk with those steel-grey eyes that missed absolutely nothing--the dozens of empty bottles on the floor, the scattered food wrappers, the sink overflowing with dirty dishes. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her pity right now.
Tomoya didn't need Sakagami's help to fix his life. He didn't need anybody. Nagisa was dead, and he was alive, and everything was worthless, and the only thing he hated more than this cold and sinful world was himself.
"I'm not in high school anymore," Tomoya said. He sat up, or tried to--the ceiling spun blearily about him until he gave up and closed his eyes. "You really don't need to do this. I can take care of myself."
"I made breakfast," Sakagami said, and somehow this was enough to get him to follow her into the kitchen, where miso soup and a heaping bowl of rice porridge was waiting for them.
It wasn't anything fancy, but it was warm and it was filling and it was nicer than anything Tomoya had eaten in days. From the way Sakagami was watching him out of the corner of her eyes while he ate, she knew it, too.
"How did you get in, anyway?" he said at last when he'd finished the meal to her satisfaction. "I thought I locked the door."
Sakagami raised an eyebrow. "I have my ways."
"You broke in, didn't you?"
"Of course not!" She sounded offended he had even considered the idea. "I asked your landlord for a key."
"And he gave it to you? With no questions asked?"
"I told him I was here to help," Sakagami said with a casual shrug. "He's worried about you, you know. We all are."
"It was nice of you to do this for me, but I don't want you to make a habit of this."
"Why not?"
"Because--" Nagisa is dead, and nothing matters.
Nagisa had died here in this apartment. His world had narrowed down to the merest sliver-- he went to work, and came straight home everyday, falling asleep to the TV in a drunken stupor. He'd become his father, the person he despised most in the world, and the only thing that could be said for him was that he'd been able to leave Ushio with Sanae and Akio, so no child would suffer from his neglect. He'd been able to do that much right, at least.
"Never mind," he said weakly. "It's not important."
Sakagami shot him a skeptical look, but didn't argue. "I'm going to clean up," she said, and took his tray into the kitchen.
"Suit yourself," Tomoya said, and retreated back to the living room, turning on the TV enough to drown out the sound of water running in the kitchen.
A half-hour later, when he glanced into the kitchen, she was still at it, having finished the breakfast dishes and gone on to the stacks of dirty plates and half-filled glasses piled on every available surface. She was humming as she worked, a cheery little tune that set his teeth on edge.
God, she was stubborn. Sakagami was ferociously competent and had campaigned her way to student council president to save her beloved cherry trees. He ought to have known he couldn't possibly outfox her when she focused on something, particularly when that something was him.
He glanced around the living room. It wasn't quite as bad as the kitchen, but there were dirty clothes scattered everywhere and ugly stains on the couch from spilled beer and take-out. Knowing Sakagami, she'd probably turn her attention here after she finished the kitchen.
Sure enough, she came into the living room and started gathering up the empty bottles. Infuriated, Tomoya slammed his fist against the table. "You don't have to take care of me like this! I'm not--"
Sakagami didn't flinch. "Not what?"
I'm not worth it.
She must have seen the words in his face, because her harsh expression softened. "Okazaki," she said gently, and that kindness hurt more than any blow. "It's okay to let people help you."
"You don't understand."
"What don't I understand?" Sakagami said. "You aren't the only one who's ever lost someone you cared about, you know."
How dare she. "Get out."
"But--"
"GET. Out."
She stared him down cooly. He froze, his fist half cocked in a blow, but she didn't move, and he retained just enough self-preservation to avoid any further escalation. Sakagami could kick his ass with one hand tied behind her back and they both knew it.
"I'll see you tomorrow, then," she said, and left.
***
She did, too. There was no reasoning with Sakagami when she had her mind set on something. He thought about going down to the landlord to complain, make him change the locks, but gave up, not wanting to have that conversation either.
She deep-cleaned his apartment from top to bottom. She woke him up in time for work and made breakfast and packed a bento lunch for him to take with him every day without fail. She chattered cheerfully to him, and took no offense when he grunted and sulked instead of responding. She was never there in the evenings, but he came home each night to a fridge filled with home-cooked meals, their contents carefully labeled.
"She needs a better hobby," Tomoya said to himself one night, staring at the bounty in the fridge. "Or a boyfriend."
The words hung in the air, and he shook himself, not wanting to follow the implications any further.
***
A few days later, he got a letter from Kotomi, studying abroad in America. I heard about Nagisa, she wrote. I'm so sorry, Tomoya. I--
The world spun. His eyes blurred with tears and he couldn't read any further. He crumpled the letter into a ball and flung it away--then realized after the fact that Sakagami would probably find it if he left it there on the floor, and tossed it into the wastebasket instead.
***
"Why are you doing this?" he asked Sakagami one day in a futile attempt to get her to stop.
"I told you. I'm trying to help you."
"Don't you have something better to do?"
"Like what?"
He was embarrassed to realize he had no idea what Sakagami did when she wasn't at his house. Kyou was training to be a kindergarten teacher. Ryou was studying to be a nurse. Kotomi was on scholarship in America. Sunohara kept bouncing from temp job to temp job. But Sakagami was a blank slate, a question mark, and he knew shockingly little about her life outside of a few stories.
"You should go to the university or something, and make something of your life," Tomoya said. "You're smart and talented and people like you--you could do anything you set your mind to. Leave this town and go be someone somewhere else. Don't waste your life, especially not on a person like me who can't be helped."
Sakagami didn't say anything for a long time. Finally, she said, low and soft, "What if I don't want that?"
They stared at each other for a long moment in silence before he retreated into the bathroom and locked the door. When he finally emerged thirty minutes later, she was gone.
***
Tomoya had assumed Kotomi's letter was a one-off, but she kept writing him--pages and pages of long, rambling letters scrawled out by hand instead of typed. She also sent him collages she'd made from books and magazines, clippings pasted together into something new and different. He had to restrain a smile whenever he saw them. She'd always liked cutting things up.
If the lack of response perturbed her, she never mentioned it, nor did she ever bring up Nagisa's death again. Instead, she rambled about her research in particle physics, all kinds high-tech science jargon he couldn't wrap his head around--things straight out of bad TV shows, like multiple universes, parallel worlds, and time travel.
It would be nice if he could go back in time and save Nagisa, Tomoya thought after one particularly enthusiastic letter. But he was stuck here in this world, the one where Nagisa had died, and not even a genius like Kotomi could help him now.
***
And then, just when Tomoya thought the miserable winter would never end, it was spring again, enough so that he noticed through the haze of grief.
"I was thinking," Sakagami said casually at breakfast the next morning, "that we could go see the cherry trees today."
Tomoya glanced up sharply from his plate. "Your cherry trees?" he said, already knowing the answer even before her nod.
She'd phrased it as an invitation, but Tomoya had a feeling he wasn't going to be able to wiggle his way out of this one. Better to humor her and get it over with. "Okay," he said slowly. "Tonight, after I get off work, then."
Sakagami's smile was brilliant. "Of course!"
***
The sun had set by the time they finally made it up the hill to the high school, transforming what was usually a sea of pink into muted grey clouds hovering amidst the branches. Even in the harsh glare of the streetlights, the sight took his breath away. He let Sakagami settle him down on the grass beside her without complaint, and they didn't speak for a long time.
"This is beautiful," Tomoya said eventually. "I'm glad you were able to save these trees."
"So am I," Sakagami said. "So much of this town has changed over the years I've lived here, but I'm glad some things are still the same. These trees are so important to me and my family, I can't imagine life without them."
He couldn't help picturing Sakagami with her brother and her parents, all walking together under the canopy of falling blossoms, the way he and Nagisa and Ushio ought to be doing, maybe with Sanae and Akio tagging along as well. A stab of envy lanced through his chest like a blow, and it took another moment to register that he was crying.
"Okazaki," Sakagami said, low and earnest in his ear. "It's all right, Okazaki, it's all right--"
But it wasn't all right. It would never be all right. Nagisa was gone and he'd never be able to sit and watch the cherry blossoms with her again, here in this place where they'd first met all those years ago. How could it possibly be all right?
He'd been numb inside ever since Nagisa died, unable to cry, but despite his efforts to bottle it all up inside, the wall had broken open at last. Now he would drown, and it was all Sakagami's fault, who had dragged him here and forced him to feel it all just by being here. He felt her hand lightly rest on his injured shoulder, and screamed, a raw piercing cry of agony as he pushed her away, unable to bear her touch. In that moment he hated her more than he had ever hated anyone in his life.
"Don't worry!" an unfamiliar voice shouted. "Fuuko is here to save the day!"
Both Tomoya and Sakagami glanced up, startled, to see a young girl with long scraggly braids tied in a big purple bow standing in front of them, brandishing a wooden starfish in front of her. She had to be in elementary school, but for some reason, she wore a yellow Hikarizaka high school uniform that was too big for her, along with sagging tights and a conical birthday hat that hung lopsided on one side of her head. When she was certain she had their attention, she attempted a lopsided cartwheel and tripped over her own feet, barely catching herself before she fell. That didn't stop her from striking a triumphant pose with the starfish clutched tightly in one hand.
"Here!" she said, thrusting the starfish into Tomoya's lap. "This will make you feel better!"
"What are you talking about?" Tomoya said. "How is this supposed to help?"
"Of course it will help!" the girl snapped. "Starfish make everybody happy! It's a proven fact! See, don't you feel happier now? Fuuko's work here is done!"
And before Tomoya or Sakagami could respond, she darted back into the bushes, and was gone.
"What was that about?" Tomoya said, staring down in confusion at the wooden starfish in his hand. He would swear he'd never seen that girl in his life, and yet there was something familiar about her...
"I have no idea," Sakagami said. "Okazaki..."
One good thing: the strange starfish girl had managed to distract him from his misery long enough that he'd stopped crying. He was embarrassed that Sakagami had witnessed him break down so completely, but at this point, he was too exhausted and empty to care.
"Please," he said. "You don't have to be so formal. Call me Tomoya. I mean, it's not like we see each other every day or anything."
"All right, Tomoya. But only if you do the same."
He meant to throw away the wooden starfish on the way home, but ended up keeping it and putting it on display in the apartment for reasons he couldn't explain, not even to himself. He wasn't convinced it would make him any happier, but he couldn't deny he needed all the help he could get.
***
Spring turned to summer, and the sloughs of black grief, while omnipresent, became easier to bear, to the point where he called up Sunohara out of the blue and invited him to hang out in the apartment like old times one weekend afternoon. Tomoyo came in halfway through Sunohara's visit, and nodded at him and his unexpected guest before vanishing into the kitchen.
"Wow, you and Sakagami are sure close now, huh?" Sunohara observed when Tomoyo was safely out of earshot.
"She's just here to help me out," Tomoya said. "What are you implying?"
"Nothing! Nothing!" Sunohara said hastily. "I just noticed you were on first-name terms, that's all! And she's making you dinner and everything!"
"Nothing's going on," Tomoya said again, and that was the end of it as far as he concerned.
But he could tell from his skeptical expression that Sunohara didn't believe him, and the visit ended on on a sour note.
***
On his way home from work one evening, he stopped by the Furukawa bakery on a whim, hoping to see Ushio for a few minutes. She was asleep, but Sanae let him pick her up, and she gurgled happily in Tomoya's arms, but didn't wake, not even when he gently placed her back down in bed.
Later, over tea, Sanae asked how he was doing.
"I'm okay," he said, surprised to realize it was true. "Better, anyway. There's--a friend--who's been helping me." He felt a rush of disloyalty at the oblique mention of Tomoyo and hastily suppressed it, hoping Sanae wouldn't inquire any further. "I'm not ready yet to have Ushio back yet, but--"
"It's all right," Sanae said instantly. "Akio and I will take care of her for as long as you need us to. We're happy to help out any way we can."
"Thank you." Tomoya stared down at his hands, grief pitted against his guilt in a battle he could never, ever win. But no matter how much it felt like he was taking advantage of Nagisa's parents, it was the best choice right now for Ushio--and for himself.
"It's no trouble at all," Sanae continued, as if she'd picked up on his train of thought. "No matter what happens, you and Ushio always be family to us, Tomoya. No matter what. So don't worry about it, okay?"
***
He did worry, though. That was the problem. He loved Nagisa, missed her every day, ached for her, yearned for her, and yet at the same time, he couldn't suppress the creeping, nagging dread that he was sliding headfirst into a rebound with Tomoyo.
Sunohara already assumed they were sleeping together. And why wouldn't he? Tomoyo was a beautiful woman--kind, competent, stubborn, and smart. She was perfect, and she was always there for him, doing the things that Nagisa would have done, and it would be so easy to let her slide the rest of the way in and take Nagisa's place completely.
But after everything Nagisa had done for him, how could he betray her like that? Just because she was dead didn't mean they weren't still married, at least in Tomoya's way of thinking. Lusting after Tomoyo already made him a pervert and creep--he wouldn't let it make him a cheat and liar, too.
Of course, as he routinely reminded himself, it was laughably arrogant to assume that Tomoyo would want any kind of romantic relationship with him in the first place. He had a stable job, and he wasn't unattractive, but that didn't mean he was a good catch, especially for someone as smart and ambitious as Tomoyo. Of all the people in his life, she knew exactly how fucked up he was--there was no way she'd ever want to get any closer to him, knowing what she knew.
Tomoyo was patient, generous, and kind with him--but she was like that with everybody, especially those who needed her. Despite the attention she lavished on him, Tomoya knew he wasn't anything special to her. After all, why would someone like her latch on to a nobody like him?
For all he knew, Tomoyo wasn't even interested in that sort of thing at all. She was always turning down the guys who confessed to her with grace--and the occasional brute force if they got pushy about it. It was just as well, really--none of them had ever struck Tomoya as worthy of her.
Tomoyo was just being nice to him, for old times' sake--because he'd helped her become student council president, and she was an honorable person who felt compelled to pay off that debt, even though Tomoya had never asked her to. He wasn't going to make the mistake of believing there was anything more to it than that.
But in spite of his arguments to the contrary, he was helpless to halt the hunger inside him that threatened to devour him whole. His indecision came out as stilted, awkward conversation, and thousands of little rudenesses, as he wobbled from pulling her closer to pushing her away a thousand times in a single conversation.
His only consolation was that Tomoyo took these fluctuations in stride, for which Tomoya was grateful. As long as she didn't know how he felt, he could be selfish and still have her in his life--the one small bright spark of happiness in his life since Nagisa's death.
***
Maybe things would have gone on lurching in unstable equilibrium forever, except of course, he botched everything. It was an accident--colliding with her in the kitchen, caught up in a tangle of arms of limbs, his face pressed to hers--right up to the moment where he closed the gap and kissed her.
Her mouth opened involuntarily against his, warm and wet and exquisite, and in that moment he had no regrets. It was just as well, because as some distant part of his mind that was still capable of coherent thought reminded him, he had maybe one or two seconds left in his life to enjoy himself before she pasted him into the wall and stomped him to the death he so richly deserved.
The last thing he expected was for her to kiss him back, as if she were the one who was drowning, as if she wanted him after all. He'd never expected that, not even in his wildest fantasies, and he was the one who staggered back and pushed her away, unable to even consider the implications.
"Get out," he whispered, numb and shaking, hating himself more than he'd ever thought possible. "Go away and leave me alone. I don't want to see you ever again."
Traitor, the voices in his head whispered. Cheater. Pervert. Scum. You just had to ruin everything, didn't you?
His vision had narrowed to a thin blur, but he could still see her pressed against the counter, her face hot and flush. "Tomoya--"
"Get out!"
And to his amazement, she did, brushing past him out of the kitchen. Seconds later, he heard the door slam behind her, leaving him once again alone in his apartment. He spent the rest of the evening playing every agonizing second of the encounter over and over again, with nothing but alcohol to drown out the voices in his head, until he finally passed out in a drunken stupor in the living room.
***
He stood beneath a cloudless blue sky, gazing out across an open field full of sunflowers. In the distance, a young girl in a blue sailor suit was playing a riotous game of tag with the starfish girl. Nagisa was smiling beside him, her white lacy sundress billowing in the breeze, and even though he knew this must be a dream, he was so happy to see her that he thought his chest would burst.
"Tomoya," she said, so simple and loving, as she reached for his hand.
Only then did he remember what had happened with Tomoyo; the bottom dropped out of his heart, and instead of grabbing her hands, he fell weeping at her feet in a futile plea for forgiveness. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done it, I missed you so much, Nagisa, why did you have to leave me, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry--"
"I'm the one who should be sorry, Tomoya." Nagisa's soft voice cut over his sobs, silencing him instantly. "I wish we could have had more time together, too. But that doesn't mean you have to spend the rest of your life utterly miserable because I'm not there."
"Of course I do," he said. "What good is the world without you in it?"
"That's not true, Tomoya. There are a lot of good things in the world besides me--Mama, Papa, Ushio, the Great Dango Family--"
Tomoya couldn't help a snort. Leave it to Nagisa to bring up the Great Dango Family at a time like this.
"--and Tomoyo-chan," Nagisa finished and Tomoya flinched. "I'm glad Tomoyo-chan is there to take care of you, since I can't. Nothing would make me happier than seeing all of my favorite people happy together, enjoying their lives to the fullest."
He remembered then, how Nagisa had been held back a third time for her senior year, and she and Tomoyo had been classmates then. How Tomoyo had helped them set up the drama club. How few friends Nagisa had had in her life, how those small gestures had been so much to her.
You're not real, he wanted to scream at her. Just some random part of my brain here to persuade me it's okay to be selfish. But that was a lie, and he knew it. There was no way he could ever conjure up a vision of Nagisa that was this real, this honest, this three-dimensional--a person, not just a memory or wishful thinking. After all this time, he'd finally found her at last--
--and she was telling him it was okay to let go.
She knelt down and opened her arms, and he hugged her fiercely, sobbing as he fell against her. She held him close, stroking his hair, humming the Great Dango Family theme softly in his ear to soothe him.
"I love you, Tomoya. Please take care of yourself," was the last thing he heard before everything went white.
***
"Wake up, Tomoya."
Tomoya groaned, and rolled over in a futile effort to get away from the familiar and insistent voice in his ear. This had to be a dream. Why else would Tomoyo Sakagami be doing here? There was no way she'd ever come back again, not after--
The world came abruptly into focus and he sat up sharply, blinking. Sure enough, there was Tomoyo standing over him, as if the previous evening had never happened.
"What are you doing here?" Tomoya demanded. "I thought I told you not to come back! Don't you ever listen?"
"We need to talk," she said. "Tomoya, I don't know about you, but I've loved you ever since you helped me become student council president so I could save the cherry trees. Even if you were only doing it because you needed my help to restart the drama club for Furukawa-san."
She sniffled, and Tomoya realized with shock she was fighting back tears. He was struck dumb, his mouth hanging open, frozen in paralysis by the confession, rapidly revisiting so many memories and conversations with this new information.
"You... like... me?"
"Yes. I've always loved you, Tomoya, even though you so wrapped up with Furukawa-san, you barely even noticed. And I wasn't the only one, either. Every one of your female friends back in high school had a crush on you. Me, Ichinose, both of the Fujibayashi twins--everyone."
Really? He vaguely remembered some passive-aggressive bento competition, and Kyou acting weird when they'd gotten locked in a closet together, but all of them? Really?
"No accounting for taste, I guess," he said, and chuckled nervously in an effort to make a joke out of it.
"That's right," Tomoyo agreed. "Tomoya, I know you still love Furukawa-san. Please... don't push me away now that you know how I feel about you. I just want to be by your side, whatever form that takes."
Tomoya took a deep breath, his head still spinning as he tried to process everything that had just happened.
"I love Nagisa and I always will. But I love you, too, Tomoyo. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to ruin our friendship--and because I thought I didn't deserve to be happy ever again, that I was betraying Nagisa by loving you. But I was wrong. Nagisa told me that herself. She came to me last night in a dream and she said--there was nothing that would make her happier than seeing all of her favorite people happy together. Me, Ushio, Sanae, Akio--and you."
"Oh," Tomoyo gasped, and now she was crying for real, which meant he had the excuse to cradle her head in his shoulder and kiss away her tears. "Furukawa-san was truly a special person."
Tomoya's throat tightened,and yet somehow it didn't hurt to speak of Nagisa in the past tense anymore. "She was. And so are you."
***
"I was thinking," Tomoya said later, when they were drowsing on the couch in each other's arms, "You might as well move in."
Tomoyo's eyes lit up. "Really?"
"I mean, you practically live here already," Tomoya drawled. "The landlord keeps asking me about you all the time, and it's getting annoying. If you lived here, it'd save me a lot of trouble--"
"Of course. I'd be honored."
"And maybe..."
"Yes?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to meet Ushio. My daughter."
Her breath tightened, and for a moment he thought she was going to cry again--only for her to bury him in a hug so tight, he thought his ribs would crack. "Oh, Tomoya, I'd love to!"
"I think she'd really like you," Tomoya continued when he'd finally managed to disentangle himself. "I mean, she's only a baby, and--she's been staying with Nagisa's parents since I haven't been able to take care of her, but now that you're here, I think the two of us could make a good home for her. I mean, look how well you've done with me. We could be a real family, all three of us."
He couldn't help laughing at Tomoyo's blush--it was too easy to tease her now that he knew her weak spots.
"Tomoya," she said softly. "That's all I've ever wanted."
***
Tomoyo wrote to Kotomi in America, apologizing for his long silence and catching her up with all of the changes in his life since they'd last spoken. He was rewarded a few weeks later with a postcard in bright rainbow colors spelling out CONGRATULATIONS in English. On the other side, Kotomi had written simply I'm so glad you and Sakagami-san are happy, Tomoya, and I can't wait to come back to Japan to meet Ushio soon! My first book on parallel universes has been accepted for publication; I'll send you a copy when it's printed, so you can read it. I hope you like it! Your friend, Kotomi.
Tomoya smiled, and placed the card on a shelf besides the strange wooden starfish and one of Nagisa's Great Dango Family plushies he'd found when deep-cleaning the apartment. He couldn't help running his fingers over the pits in the starfish--maybe that crazy girl was right and it really was lucky, after all.
Thinking about Kotomi and her parallel universes reminded him of his earlier wish to turn back time and somehow save Nagisa from dying. He'd do it in a heartbeat if offered the chance, but he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life pining and miserable because he couldn't. Not when Nagisa herself had given him a second chance at life, to build the family that she couldn't.
"This world is far from perfect," Tomoya said aloud. He studied the three objects on display, each other an integral part of the story, a marker of the myriad connections binding the important people in his life together. "There are beautiful things and there are terrible things, and there are mediocre things. But I was able to find new things and new people to make me happy, even though I'll never forget the old ones."
Maybe it was just his imagination, but in that moment, he could feel Nagisa's presence, watching over him with a smile as she nodded in agreement.
He knew she was proud of him.