Fresh Air--Epilogue by Patrick Drazen "MAMA!!" Asuka sat bolt upright in bed. Even though the air conditioner was on, her pajamas were soaked with sweat. That damned dream again! As hard as she tried, she couldn't remember the smallest bit of it once she was awake. She knew only that she would wake up every other month or so calling for her mother. But why? She couldn't even remember her mother; she'd been orphaned in a car crash years ago. Was some ancient part of her life trying to force its way to the surface? She peeled off the sodden shirt, went into the bathroom, turned on the light and started wiping down her arms, stomach and breasts with a towel. Once her breath and heart rate had slowed down toward normal, she dropped the towel and started posing in front of the mirror. She couldn't help it. Here it was almost her 18th birthday, her senior year in high school, and she'd been developing quite nicely, if she did say so herself. She wished her boyfriend was around. Even though it was--what time was it? She glanced back into the dark bedroom, where the digital clock glowed 2:50 AM. It made no difference; she knew she could call him even at 2:50 AM. He had his own problem with dreams. Too bad he was out of town, tonight of all nights. She'd gotten used to calling him, and letting his voice soothe her down from her nervous fear. Why did he have to be gone tonight of all nights? She thought she heard a click at the window. She held her breath and waited. There; another click. She ran to the bedroom window and looked down to the lawn. There he was, standing just inside the gate, ready to toss another pebble at the window. She threw open the window and waved joyously to him. He just stood there, a smile on his face, and mouthed the words "Thank you." That was when Asuka realized she was still topless. Her arms flew up to cover her chest, but when she leaned back out the window to say, "Wait there!", she was still smiling. She pulled on a sweater, raced downstairs and out the door, and into his arms. They kissed for a solid minute, clinging to each other as if he'd been gone for a month instead of a week. When they broke for air, she asked, "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be back for two days!" "Why?" he smiled. "Is there someone I'm not supposed to know about?" Asuka gave him a light hit on the arm with her fist. "Anta baka," she smiled. "Anyway, it's over for me." Asuka's heart sank at once. "Oh no." He had set such store on this competition. "What happened?" "This did." He produced a sheet of paper. Although she'd spent time in America as a child, English wasn't one of Asuka's stronger languages. "What is it?" "It says," and he couldn't contain himself any longer; his face lit up like the full moon. "It says that cellist Shinji Ikari won the Young Artists Competition at the Glyndbourne Music Festival..." "You won?!" "...which means that I'm going back next year. I'm going to solo in the Lutoslawski concerto!" "That's wonderful! Congratulations!" She threw her arms around Shinji, this time giving him a peck on the cheek. "We've got to celebrate!" "At this hour?" "I know one place that's open all the time," she said as she dragged Shinji into the house. Five minutes later they were sharing coffee and cookies at the kitchen table. "You had the dream again tonight?" Asuka nodded. "I don't know where it comes from. It happens less and less often, and I suppose I should be glad. Shinji?" "Yes?" "I only met you about a year ago in school, but you've been so nice to me, especially about these dreams. But I was wondering. You never talk about your mother, so I've been afraid to bring up the subject." Shinji started stirring his coffee, even though he took it black. "I never talk about her because she's dead. She died about ten years ago." "Oh Shinji, I'm sorry." "Don't be," he smiled. "She developed cancer and they tried to be aggressive about it, but it spread. Still, she wasn't in any pain until the end, and that was quick. In some ways, her last year was her best. We went places, we talked. I have a lot of good memories of her." He leaned back in the chair now, remembering those times. "And then?" "Huh?" "What did you do after she died?" "To tell the truth, it's all a blur. I know I moved around from one relative to another, and I hated it. I kept to myself a lot, I guess. That was when I started to get serious about the cello. I won a government scholarship to a school for the arts. It was nice, but I felt like something was missing. So I asked to do my senior year at an ordinary high school." "I'm glad you did." "Me too." Their hands met across the table. Asuka watched Shinji's smile suddenly fade to apprehension. "What's wrong?" "There's one thing I haven't mentioned." "What is it?" "The prize includes a scholarship to study music at a university. Next year I'll be attending the Royal Academy in London." London. A mere ten thousand miles away. What was he thinking?! It was the closest Asuka had come in a long time to completely losing her temper. Her look at Shinji was more of a simmer as she said, "And you think I'll wait for you?" Shinji took her hand in both of his. "I hope you'll join me." He had slipped something into her hand. When he let go, she was holding a thin gold ring with a small, fragile-looking diamond. "Ever since I met you, I've known that we were supposed to be together. Please marry me." Asuka had wondered about this moment. She imagined a fancy restaurant overlooking the ocean or a ski chalet in the mountains. But here, in a kitchen in the dead of night, with her amateurish cookies and coffee! It was all so... so perfectly Shinji. As the tears overflowed her eyes, all she could do was nod her head yes. *** The wedding was a marvel. Shinji had chartered a special train to take everyone--mostly school friends--to Kyoto. There they were married in the traditional Shinto ceremony, followed by (in a nod to Asuka's German lineage) a concert performance of Bach's Wedding Cantata. Through it all, Asuka and Shinji happily beamed. And through it all, the relative Shinji had spent the last couple of years with, even though he'd often be away from home for days at a time, the man he called "Uncle Batou" stayed at the back of the hall, taking it all in. Halfway through the wedding ceremony, Batou heard something happening behind his brain.