Throughout the next day, Sana was tired. Sleeping off and on in bed. No energy. It was like the past few days hadn't existed at all. I thought, maybe this was normal in the process of his healing. Not every day could be a good one. But, yesterday, he'd been tired also. Not as much as today, but fading. I was worried about what tomorrow could bring.

We were on the couch now, a drama program on in the background on low. I wasn't paying attention. Sawai-san seemed into it, but I couldn't bring myself to watch. I was only thinking about Sana, and how he was today.

I'd woken him up like usual in the morning. He was calm and happy, but not talking much. By the time I had chosen some comfortable clothes to put on him, he'd fallen asleep. It seemed like our morning routine had exhausted him. He'd fallen asleep on top of the covers, peacefully. I sat down next to him, running my fingers through his hair. He was wearing an old t-shirt of mine and some sweats for pajamas. He looked so small in them. I couldn't get away from that fact.

What followed was a day where he slept for eleven of the twelve hours that had passed. It was almost like he hadn't slept the night before, that kind of sleeping. But, I knew he'd slept then, too, because I hadn't slept much. Just thinking about Madison Square Garden and the rest of the tour, thinking about America.

But, thinking about it now, I was worried.

I knew he was getting better. The last few days had to be evidence of that. But, how would he be on tour? I'd gone on tour in Japan many times. But, that seemed tiny compared to what we were about to embark upon. America was so large. I heard it could take days to cross some states. How would we be traveling? By land or air?

The idea of him on an airplane gave me great pause. What if he had an emergency in the air? What would we do? And all of his medications. How would those travel? Were we allowed to bring them to America? What did that entail? Did we need paperwork? What if there was something he was on that was banned in America? How would we cope?

The realities of this were settling in. It was big enough to go to America, stressful enough, but with Sana...

I knew since we wanted to go to Hawaii to get married, we'd have to deal with some of this. But, on tour we'd be traveling around. How good was he with travel? He seemed enthusiastic about it yesterday. After the meeting with Lyra, he couldn't stop smiling. He wasn't very talkative, but we'd hugged on the couch for the rest of the night until bed. He was so pleased. He told me that I deserved to perform at Madison Square Garden. That seeing me there, achieving that, was better than any dream. Having all those people appreciate me. What that did to my heart couldn't be described in words. What that meant to me. It meant more than being admired by twenty thousand people in Madison Square Garden.

But what if he had an emergency on an airplane? What if he had a day like today, where he was this tired? I knew what I'd be like. I'd be worried sick.

Thinking about it in a Japan context. If he'd been with me, for example, on one of my old tours. We'd traveled the country. We'd stay in hotels and go in a van to the venues, having to be up and about at very specific times. Keeping schedules, and not straying for even a minute. Sometimes we'd fly, but mostly we'd be in the van traveling to different places. There'd be vans trailing us with our gear and staff. I was so passionate, that I'd help arrange our merchandise at the venues, help direct those setting up the stage. I'd be in hair and makeup for hours, my stylist and dresser helping me get ready.

Just thinking about getting ready like that. My stylist doing my professional makeup, arranging my wig just so, choosing hair pieces. My dresser handling my antique kimono and expertly dressing me just like in olden times, so specific and painstaking. So many steps to do. I'd lose sense of time, paying attention to what they were doing. But those hours. I wouldn't want to be away from Sana like that. I'd be so worried, thinking about him. So much could happen within those hours. Being away in the dressing room.

And the kimono I wore. They were the real thing, lent to me by loyal collectors. They wanted to see the kimono they collected being moved by an artist. Someone who knew how to move them, bringing their old pieces back to life. They were worth tens of thousands of dollars, and whole ensembles were priceless compared to the history I was wearing.

What if Sana had an emergency while I was wearing such an ensemble? I wouldn't be able to carry him to safety. I wouldn't be able to hold him. The kimono didn't belong to me.

If he'd been with me during our old tours. I don't think he could have kept a schedule. Not with how he is now. His illness was unpredictable. Having to rush to the van was laughable in expectation with him being this tired. Ridiculous. Him having to appear during a promotion, running to an interview held somewhere out of the way.

All it did was worry me. And the food on tour. Often, we wouldn't be able to eat. There wasn't time. Or, we'd run and grab something from a convenience store, back in the van in five minutes. Sometimes, wherever we were would have something for us to eat, provided, but we'd have no choice in what they'd give us. That would never work with his limited diet.

Sure, it was different now. There were modern conveniences. We could Uber Eats something to our hotel for him. But there was no way of knowing what kinds of restaurants would be nearby in any given city.

And the wheelchair accessibility. This was a new horror I hadn't thought of earlier in the day. What kinds of wheelchair access were there in America? What were the laws?

The more I thought about it, the more impossible it felt. But, above all, I wanted to do this with him. I wanted to figure out some way. I was determined. He wanted to see me perform at Madison Square Garden. And I wanted him to be on stage with me. That was the period at the end of the sentence.

Around 11pm, I decided to call Keitaro about it. All the worrying. It was getting to me. Sana was still sleeping, it looked like he was going to sleep through the night. We were in my bedroom. Sawai-san had gone to sleep in the living room already.

I woke up my phone and pressed his number. I had no idea where he'd be or what he'd be doing, but I knew he would take a call from me.

He answered in a few rings. It was quiet where he was. "Hello? Hi," he said, so calm. I had remind myself that he'd performed in America before. He couldn't have been too worried, or maybe I was underestimating him. He'd always had a cool exterior.

"Hi. I was thinking about the tour," I launched right away. Too worried to delay it with nice words.

He made a pleased sound. "Oh, yeah? You want to talk to me about it? I've been thinking about it, too." It was clear he was smiling from the tone of his voice. He didn't sound tired, either, despite the time of night.

"Yeah. I told Lyra about it. They're over the moon. Worried, of course, but who wouldn't be? But, that's not what I want to talk about. I told Sana about it, too. At the same time. He took it well, much better than his bandmates, but I'm so worried about him."

"Worried?" Keitaro asked, his tone changing. Matching a little bit of what I felt inside.

"Yeah. About how he's going to do on tour. He's still so... I know he's getting better because of these new medications, especially the one treating his hyper thyroid condition, but... How is he going to travel? What is America like? I've been worried all day. I'm thinking about what it was like on my old tours, and he'd never survive on one of those. It's ridiculous to think about it in that context. He-"

Keitaro made a slow tsking noise. It made me stop.

"Our tours are nothing like the company you and I used to be a part of. Fleeting World is very professional. I remember those old tours. The vans-"

"The vans, my god," I interrupted him.

"Yes, the vans. We're not going to be in vans."

"What are we going to be in? How are we going to travel?" I made a long, suffering noise. "I need to plan this out, Keitaro... I just..." I sighed deeply, my hand going through my bangs. I rested against my headboard. I realized I'd been very tense. Just his few words to me was easing that, though.

"Breathe. It's going to be fine."

"How is it going to be fine? Can you explain it to me?"

"It's a while away. A lot of things have been finalized, though. The tour starts in August and goes into September. I know that's a long time, but nothing compared to what it could be. We'll be traveling America in tour buses. They're basically outfitted as motor homes that can carry a lot of people at once. There's still seating in the front, but there's a small kitchen, an eating area, stacked bunk beds built in, lots of storage space."

A feeling was creeping up my back, going into my stomach at his words. I shook my head. "That doesn't sound very wheelchair friendly. A bus... How would Sana's wheelchair even get inside? Will the hallway be wide enough? I don't know..." Rapid images of what it could be like were filling my head already, like an over full box.

"Relax. Breathe."

I tried to.

He went on. "Sana's not the only musician who uses a wheelchair. On our tour, yes. But not in the history of music. There's plenty of things we can do. Fleeting World is going to make a lot of money from this tour. They're planning on shelling out a lot of money for it. I'm sure we can adjust the tour bus for you and Lyra to his needs. I'm glad you're talking to me about this now, so that we can. You can even tell them what he needs so they can make sure."

Relief was filling my chest, like fresh, cool air. I sighed deeply again. But, it was replaced with more worry.

"And... And what about the food? He's on a limited diet. You know that. I don't know what kind of food America has. All I know is that he said it has a lot of stuff with no sugar. Sweet stuff. But that's all he's told me. What is he going to eat? What kind of food can we expect? He can't go without meals, not only because of certain medications he's on, but also due to his diabetes. He needs to eat. We can't-"

"Whoa, it's okay. Breathe."

I did. I realized my hand was gripping my sheets hard. I eased it open.

He breathed with me. "The tour is going to be catered. We'll have catering staff. We can definitely get them to provide food that goes along with his needs. It's definitely not like our old company. I remember that crap. Fleeting World takes care of everyone, and I mean everyone. Heck, Davy's a vegan. I bet he and Sana could share a menu, even. You should see the way Davy demands that he gets the food he wants. With Davy around, I'm sure Sana will have no problem eating. If Sana needs a snack, go up to Davy. I'm sure he'll share his stash with you. He always has some good, healthy snacks. One time, he had an entire mini fridge full of fresh vegetables and salad stuff. I raided it myself after I got sick of McDonald's and late night fast food. It was great. And Davy's so nice, he doesn't care. You know that. He'll give you whatever you want, or help you find it."

I paused. He was right. "I forgot he's a vegan. Wow... That makes me feel so much better, you have no idea." My fingers pushed into my bangs again, staying there. Suddenly, I wanted to talk to Davy. We hadn't talked since last Summer. Maybe we could plan out the food situation together. It was all sounding better and better.

"Yeah. So, don't worry. It'll all be taken care of. Fleeting World really cares about their artists. It'll be nothing like at our old company. They won't over work us, either. Heck, I even told them I need certain rest days to rest my voice, and they worked those into the tour schedule already. The dates are all finalized. Tickets are already on sale. I'll send the schedule over to you. Since you already told Lyra, I'll send the schedule over to them, too. We'll plan it all out, I promise. There's nothing to worry about."

Tickets are already on sale. Maybe he'd meant it a different way, but that sentence made me sweat. My fingers were tingly.

"Okay. You know I trust you."

"Absolutely. I'll be thinking about Sana, too, and asking around. We'll work out everything. You said he's doing a lot better anyway, right? I know he still has dietary restrictions, but maybe this will go better than you think. We have to have hope. We'll do our best. It's going to be okay."

"Okay."

"You think about it, alright? Tell me more about your concerns. We'll figure out solutions. Especially, tell me what your bus needs in order to accommodate him. We'll do it."

I already knew one thing that wouldn't work. A big obstacle. Something I'd forgotten to mention.

"You said there's stacked bunk beds. Sana can't do that. I need to sleep in the same bed with him. What if he falls out of it, and-"

"Relax. See? This is what I'm talking about. It's another solution we'll think of. It's going to be okay."

I breathed. "Okay."

"Yeah. I think you need to get some rest. Don't worry too much. There isn't a need to. Anything you come up with, tell me, and I'll communicate it to the appropriate people. Keep telling yourself, Sana isn't the first musician to go on tour who uses a wheelchair. He's not the first one to go on tour with diabetes, or heart issues, or anything else he has. There's solutions. It's all been done before. I know that sounds weird, but it definitely has. The history of music is long. There's so many different kinds of musicians. Heck, Ray Charles and Stevie Wonder go on tour and they're blind. Think about it. We can do this. It's going to be alright."

I nodded as he was speaking. He was saying some deep truths. It was all correct. And it soothed me more than anything in the world.

I agreed with him, and we said good-night. He was being so kind as always. Always my best friend. Knowing me so well. He knew how worried I was. He'd seen it all before.

I slipped down into the covers, and slid behind Sana. In the darkness, I wrapped my arm around him and pulled him close. He was still asleep as he had been all day. I told myself he was healing, and his body was just hard at work. We have to have hope. That's what Keitaro had said. Look at things on the positive side. Don't worry too much.

All I could do was listen to those words, and try to think of the positive side.

As I drifted off to sleep, I thought of the most positive image of all, this image resting on top of the box of my worries inside. Of myself wearing an elaborate kimono ensemble, my skin powdered white and my hair done in a luxurious style of an oiran. Dancing, and as I gazed up, there he was, on a literal pedestal on stage, singing a song for me, so beautiful with his eyes closed, so into it. And all around us, twenty thousand fans watched in awe as they finally heard the voice of the man I love, finally realizing the potential I always knew he had since the first day I'd met him.