With the moonlight washing into the dark, a shadow of light cast onto Sana's not quite sleeping face. He was getting there, his eyes closed. He was uncomfortable, and had been into the evening. A weakness had descended, and he laid in my arms on the couch as we watched a variety show on TV. My parents had been with us in the room, and as we laughed at the TV, my mom and I had been watching him, too. Any signs of distress that were too much, or signs of other trouble. These things never came, and I was grateful. Now we were in our bedroom, and I was trying to coax him to sleep. He was tired, but so uncomfortable.

My hand glided through his hair, going the whole length of it. We were laying together, our bellies touching side by side. My other arm was under him, holding him to me, around the small of his back. I didn't know what this was. What was making him so weak? His sugar level was stable. He was breathing well, his O2 level fine. His heart rate was doing great. He didn't seem like he had a cold. I could only think back to a conversation with Yokohara-sensei, where sometimes it's mysterious and if it didn't persist for more than twenty-four hours, then he'd most likely be fine. But for those twenty-four hours?

And, what if he kept getting sick like this? What did that indicate? It hadn't been so long since he'd gotten sick and there wasn't an explanation. What if that had something to do with this one? It didn't sit well with me. What if it wasn't isolated?

Somewhere along the way, my mind wandered to earlier today. The conversation at our house. Nobu and Yami, talking about the tour.

What if he got sick like this on the tour? I knew he was already worried about it. What would we do? I didn't speak English. What if we had to go to the hospital? No, I knew with a certainty... We most likely would. It was an inevitability. Suddenly, it was terrifying to me. I found myself holding him closer, pressing him to me. His breaths were slowing for sleep, a good sign. I tried to ease up, but found I didn't want to. Something in me, wanting to protect him.

There were so many things about the tour that were appropriate to be fearful of. These things he was worried about... They were real. If he got sick and had to be in the hospital, he wouldn't be able to perform. But, that was the least of it. I knew that if he got sick and had to be in the hospital, the tour would have to leave us behind. I wouldn't want to leave him. The idea of leaving him by himself? It was a horror unlike any other. There would be no way I could perform knowing he was sick in the hospital. I'd have to be there. That would only complicate things.

What were the real solutions? What were we going to do, about any of it? Nobu and Yami were also talking about things they needed for the bus. For them, maybe it was about a matter of storage for their personal items, or requesting certain foods to keep them going, reminders of home, I couldn't imagine. I could think back about the things I'd wanted on tours I'd had around Japan. The practical things, the ridiculous things. But, touring with Sana would be completely different.

Keitaro had asked me what we wanted for the bus. We'd had a conversation. I'd been so worried, but now it was fever pitch. Talking to Yami and Nobu had made the tour so real. Before, it had seemed far away, but it was close. They'd already discussed so much with Fleeting World. We were being left behind, straggling along.

What did we really need for the bus? I could make an itemized list. Things I'd needed before personally, but I'd need different things now. Thinking about it, I'd been a much different person even last year. Needing such frivolous things, such as much of my wardrobe. That didn't seem so important to me anymore. Comfort items. To be honest, a lot of my comfort items... They weren't items at all.

Mermaid Orchestra might have been the drunkest ensemble in the history of Japan. We were swimming in alcohol. There were so many of us, and we drank so much. I didn't remember much of last year's summer tour, or the year's before. To his credit, Keitaro was never too critical of me. But, I was embarrassed now. We'd been an ensemble of many ages, and many of us gave any excuse to drink. I'd drink from the moment I woke up to when I'd pass out at night. We were always going on beer runs and going to find liquor.

Many of them had been encouraging of it, and now I assumed that many of those same people were no longer around me, because I don't drink anymore. I'm not fun to them anymore. I hadn't heard from any of them in the last nine months. Ever since I got fired from our old company, I hadn't heard a word. I knew who my friends were now, and most of Mermaid Orchestra weren't in that small group.

I thought back then that I was a champion at holding my liquor. All the games we'd play seemed fun at the time. But, I was really running away. Sadness that I refused to name, a loneliness that was scared away whenever they were around. Buddies with a common goal: to get drunk out of our minds and forget that we weren't really going anywhere in our lives. Forget how small fry we were. Gone were our bigger ambitions, no performing at Budokan or meeting some big name. We were so indie. I was a star at our old company, but they were really session musicians. They didn't have permanent contracts. We were always an ensemble, not a band, for that reason. Our company unwilling to give them a real chance.

They had it much worse than me, so why not watch this supposed star ruin his life? All that laughing with them. Had they really been laughing at me? Had I just not noticed? This silence from them now. It made me suspicious.

I knew sometimes, I'd go out with Keitaro and my ambition had been to get drunk. Keitaro was no stranger to alcohol. He was a rock star after all. Sometimes alcohol was his middle name. But, his goal was never to get drunk specifically. Drinking was just something he did absentmindedly while doing something else. For me, it was my life. For him to have tolerated it like he did, and still be my best friend? How was I that special? The things I regretted. The things I hoped to make up for now...

When he said I was different, he wasn't lying. It was night and day. As soon as I knew Sana was sick, I stopped drinking. Not all the way, at first. I weaned myself. It was hard, but I found that it just didn't seem too important anymore. That looking after Sana was taking over that urge. The sadness there to hide was ebbing away the more he loved me. Every time he peered at me in wonder. Every time he gave me a small smile of thanks when I tucked him in for a nap. The little things made that feeling turn away. He was worth everything.

I realized that sadness had been loneliness. That I'd been trying to fill that hole with anything I could, and alcohol fit like a missing piece for a long time. What I'd needed was someone who loved me, but that had been impossible to find. I'd been hurt too much. With my last boyfriend hurting me so much, I couldn't bear to try to find someone else. I decided I was better off alone, and after a while, I forgot the reason why I started drinking. Replacing a feeling that no longer had a name, just a sadness that somehow wouldn't go away no matter how many times I tried to fill it.

It was so different now. I was not the same person as last year. There was some strange easing, realizing this. A relaxation in myself. A relief, that I wasn't the same person as last year. Maybe we could start something new, then. Come up with a list of things we needed, with new eyes. Maybe, I didn't need any of the things I'd had last year, and that was a relief.

I blinked several times, coming back to myself. Lost in my thoughts. I gazed over at Sana, in the bare light of the moon. His eyes were still closed. I listened with my whole body, paying attention to his movements. After a while, it was clear. He was asleep. He'd fallen asleep as I was thinking.

Like this, I leaned over a little bit, and kissed him on his sweet forehead. My arms wrapped around him anew, and I held him to me. Loving him with all of myself.

He was everything to me. More than he'd ever know. He'd changed my whole life.

In the face of that, was it so hard to figure out what we'd need for a bus? Was that really the hard part? Somehow, it didn't seem so hard. Maybe, considering last year and the year before, it was actually easy.

I began to make a list in my head. First things. We'd need to measure his wheelchair to see how wide the center aisle needed to be. We needed to look at the shower and bathroom to see how we'd need to modify it for his safety. Bars in there was the first step. Maybe even bars alongside the walls, just for stability, something to grab onto just in case. Suddenly, I had a lot of ideas. Ideas that I needed to save and remember.

So carefully, I rolled Sana onto his back. Without putting pressure on him, I reached over him to our bedside table. My hand grabbed wildly in the dark, but I found what I was looking for. I gently unplugged my cellphone, and brought it close to my face. I turned it on, and began tapping words.

Hey, Keitaro. I don't expect you to respond now, but I have some ideas for what we need for the bus. First of all, we need a bed that's big enough for both Sana and I. We need to modify the bathroom to make it safer, but I'm not sure what we need in there yet. Maybe a detachable shower head? We'll measure his wheelchair to see how wide the center aisle needs to be. I'm sorry I've delayed telling you these things. We'll get on it, though. I know there's so many other things to request and consider. Can you tell me what's already been done? We can decide from there.

I pressed "send" and watched my screen for a moment. Contentment filled me. After a bit, I rolled Sana over again and placed my phone back on our table. I struggled to plug it in, but that was so important. Satisfied, I rolled him back into place.

"Mm," he sighed. My mouth went small, concerned for him. Had I woken him up? "Hmm," he breathed. "You're rolling me. Are you playing a game?" He smiled in the semi-darkness.

My hand went into his bangs, sweeping them away. This caused his smile to brighten even more, his eyes still closed, but he was so happy. "You're not asleep?" I asked, brushing his stubborn bangs away again. I wanted to see his cute face.

"Mm. No. I feel better, though."

"Yeah?" I kissed his forehead, and he made an adorable noise. It filled my heart with such joy. With even more delight, I saw him pucker his lips. I decided to play a game.

"Mmm?" Such an adorable sound. My finger went onto his lips, poking him there. He kissed my finger instead, such a loving face.

As I watched him adore just my finger, mere ounces of me, I remembered how much he loved all of me. If he adored just that much of me this much... My finger went away from his lips, and I was kissing him with all of myself. All of myself that he adored, taking him like this.

No, I knew. Loving him like this. Him loving me like this. The tour wasn't so scary. Thinking about all the things we'd faced. The things he didn't know of my past, and the things I didn't know of his. I knew we'd been through a lot. Compared to this, this tour was a joy. It didn't need to be scary at all. Just as much happiness had the potential to happen as unhappiness. There was much to be worried about, but...

With strength that he hadn't had earlier, his arm wrapped around me securely. His hand skated up my back, tenderly, landing between my shoulder blades, pressing there. It felt so good that it was euphoria, a symphony of happiness.

My fingers cupped around his ear that didn't hear very well. Loving every part of him, even the parts that he thought were defective. My thumb rubbed the top of his ear, dearly. I sucked on his bottom lip gently, and his breath quickened into my mouth.

Loving him like this. I felt as if I could conquer the world. And as we continued showing each other our love, I realized we were about to. With determination, there wasn't anything that could stop us. If we tried our best, even if it wasn't enough, we could be happy. That was really the whole point. I wanted happiness, I wanted us to achieve our dreams. We could have it, no matter what it ended up looking like. As long as we were together, I wanted to achieve whatever might come.