Life's measure

"Wh-what happened to your D-Dad?", Benjiro asked, concerned.

Yamanaka was still fluttering her eyes, to blink away the tears that were threatening to form. Looking at her, Benjiro just knew, on some instinctual level that she had most likely been keeping this bottled up for a long time. Most likely nobody had ever even thought to ask if she was doing alright. Why would they, Yamanaka was the girl who was always happy and upbeat to a fault. Who would suspect there was such weight behind that obnoxiously cheery attitude?"

"It all started almost six or seven years ago", she began, "It started out small, like they always do. Dad would just forget little things here or there. No big deal, sometimes I forget things that happen just as soon as they're finished. But things got progressively worse, to the point where Dad was forgetting things that shouldn't be forgotten. He forgot what day of the week it was, then it was things he was supposed to buy at the grocery store, despite the fact he had a list in his hands.

"Eventually, Mom took him to the doctor and after running a few tests, they diagnosed him with early onset dementia."

The mop-headed boy couldn't help but gasp a little. Benjiro could see where the normally cheery girl's story was going from a million miles away. But it was like seeing the subway come while you sat on the train tracks, no matter how far away it was, you knew it would hurt upon arrival.

The only somewhat sensitive thing he could think to ask was, "H-How old is he?"

Yamanaka just stared at the papers, as if waiting for them to speak, "Forty-six."

Benjiro bit his knuckle hard. A barrage of things to say were ricocheting in his head, but none of them seemed quite right. Admittedly, he wasn't well versed in medical knowledge, but he knew that Yamanaka's father wasn't quite within range, "I th-thought stuff l-like that happened-d to people in th-their f-fifties and up."

She started tapping on the paper, "It should, shouldn't it", her rhetoric becoming edgy, "It's supposed to happen to older people, not people that aren't even over the hill."

Yamanaka stared at the ceiling, her tapping becoming harder, "We don't even have a history of it in our family", she spat, "It just randomly appeared, like the world's most sh*tty lottery."

"And al-ll this", he waved his hand, "It's all inf-fo on the disease."

She slowly nodded, "As soon as I learned about it, I dove headfirst into research. I looked everywhere, books, public websites, WHO. I even found numbers for hospitals that potentially offered a cure. And for nearly six years, I have been searching and searching and searching, for something...anything that could possibly lead to an answer."

The two of them spent the next few minutes in silence, just staring at the table and each other. Yamanaka was finished saying what she had to say, and Benjiro was at a total loss for what to say. He had devoted more time thinking about his own mortality than he wondered if he should ever admit, but it was always difficult seeing someone else confront the mortality of someone they cared for. It seemed doubly difficult when that person's mortality was drawing close at a terrifyingly premature pace.

"D-Did you ever f-find a possible ans-swer?" Benjiro asked.

'What are you thinking, you fool!' Inei screamed, 'Now isn't the time to be probing!'

'Sorry, I panicked', Benjiro apologized, 'There was just too much of an awkward silence.'

'And you thought asking her about possible answers for the incurable disease that her father has?! Yeah, that's a great plan, you dumbass', Inei reprimanded

"He's on a small cocktail of drugs", Yamanaka answered, "It helps but, they were only postponing things."

'Good Lord, this girl is more of a pessimist than we can be', Inei observed.

'Now who's the one having thoughts without thinking ahead of time?" Benjiro prodded.

Benjiro stood up and turned to leave, "If y-you really d-don't want anyone to f-find out, I c-can keep my mouth sh-shut."

"I'd appreciate that, thanks."

"I d-don't kn-know if I can or if y-you even w-want any help, but if y-you're feeling down in the dumps, m-my door is usually open. I h-have lunch in a m-music room that n-nobody uses in th-the 200 hallway."

Yamanaka let out a humorless grunt, "I may take you up on that one of these days."

Between Yamanaka feeling she had dispensed enough and Benjiro feeling that he was out of questions, the two of them came to an unspoken agreement that they were finished talking. As Benjiro lengthened his stride on his spindly legs as much as he could, he felt relief that they were done talking, but a different kind of weight settled upon him. He didn't say a word as he set his books on the front desk or as the librarian scanned them. Looking concerned, the older man asked, "Is something the matter?"

He wasn't sure if he should be talking about this with anyone, however, "H-Has Y-Yamanaka been c-coming here often?"

A knowing look passed over the man's face, "She's been coming here for years, and always with the same purpose in mind."

Benjiro swallowed dryly and muttered, "I see."

"And in all the years she's been coming here, she's always came alone", the librarian explained as he put the books into a bag, "She hasn't brought a friend and she hasn't brought a family member."

Walking back home, both of those interactions nagged at him. He didn't necessarily consider Yamanaka to be a friend, but now that he was thinking about it, he had never seen her sit down and talk with the same group of people. She was always bouncing from group to group like the little social butterfly she was. But by the same token, he never saw her be particularly chummy with any of their other classmates. And the entire time she interacted with everyone else, there was always that toothy grin she always had.

When Benjiro got home, and closed the door, he breathed a sigh of relief when the silence greeted him. Dad wasn't home, so he was on his own that night, which suited him perfectly. After the weighty couple of hours he just spent at the library, none of which involved working, a little silence felt nice. His Dad always added some color and noise into his life, which was sometimes good. He never said anything about it because his Dad was almost always doing the best he could, but sometimes it was a little overwhelming, as simple as the gestures were.

Benjiro went up to his room and grabbed his guitar. He still didn't have the clearest of ideas as to how he was going to handle this, but something told him, he was on a good track. After setting down the guitar and opening his notebook to a blank page, he sprawled himself out on the couch and took a look at the books he borrowed. Flipping through "Teaching for Dummies", a copy of "Unusual teaching methods" and "Musical Theory", he got to work.

Benjiro jotted down everything that seemed important, and a few different lines of simple rhymes that would hopefully be not too difficult to memorize, "Although, considering how much trouble Haruoka seems to have, simplicity will be key", he thought aloud, "Seriously, why do people have to make learning things so complicated?"

'I heard that it actually doesn't have anything to do with actual intelligence', Inei said, 'Apparently they make students do so much work and give them complicated subjects to see how seriously they take work and how dedicated they are to acquiring knowledge.'

Benjiro groaned at that thought, "I can see the point behind that, but that still seems like such a stupid thing to do. If we actually needed half of the things they teach us in class, I'd be surprised."

'I think they most likely give you so much work to give kids a taste of the hopeless wasteland that is adulthood.'

"You know, just because you're not wrong about something doesn't always mean you need to spout it off."

Benjiro went back to looking at his books and coming up with a few small ditties. Strumming them out on his guitar, most of them sounded pretty good, at least to him, but as for his 'pupil' he wasn't sure. The rhyming schemes were simple and the vocab, which he stole a look at when Haruoka went to the bathroom, were well within the boundaries of difficulty. After reading, writing and playing for almost three hours, he felt a little worn out. Flipping through his notebook, he had covered at least five pages in possible ideas. Seeing the pages covered made him think of Haruoka which made his chest ache dully. Shaking those thoughts from his head, he went and heated up some of the food his Dad prepared for him the day before. When he looked at the clock, he noticed it was only about six in the afternoon.

"OK, I know a weekend probably isn't enough to prepare for this, but let's pray this works."

Out of curiosity, since his Dad wasn't there, the mail wasn't brought in just yet. Sticking his head out the door, there were a few things inside the box. Benjiro flipped through them, a few bills, something official looking and, bringing a smile to his face, a letter from Mine.