Chapter 2.2: The Hinahata's Home

The journey to their home unfolded as a picturesque expedition through a tranquil neighborhood, characterized by a series of standalone houses that radiated an enchanting blend of modernity and visionary architecture.

Each residence stood confidently, their façades embellished with immaculate gardens teeming with a riot of colors that conjured scenes reminiscent of a speculative future depicted in a science fiction narrative.

"This doesn't even look like Japan anymore!" I exclaimed, my voice tinged with wonderment at the remarkable metamorphosis. The nation had undergone a striking evolution; the traditional cultural elements I once associated with it had been overshadowed by sleek, futuristic designs meticulously crafted to withstand the capricious whims of nature.

The car began to decelerate and gracefully turned into the driveway of one of these avant-garde homes. As the garage door ascended with a gentle, mechanical hum, we glided into the polished interior of the garage. The vehicle came to a soft stop in the pristine, expertly designed space.

The doctor was the first to exit, swiftly moving to the rear of the car to assist me. Meanwhile, Kei, exhibiting a sense of belonging, was already vanishing into the house as I was carefully wheeled in her wake.

I was rather taken aback by the cutting-edge elegance that filled the interior of the home. My gaze was immediately captured by the plush, padded flooring of the grand entryway that seamlessly flowed into an expansive living area adorned with an exquisite spiral staircase, undoubtedly leading to their bedrooms.

To the right, a three-seater couch, upholstered in deep navy fabric, beckoned relaxation, while a large, ultra-thin flat-screen TV commanded attention on the wall.

"Welcome to our family home!" Boomed Mr. Hinahata, his voice resonant with infectious warmth and enthusiasm. I realized that I would need time to adjust to his exuberance. "Let's get you to the elevator and settled into your new room."

With that, the doctor navigated my wheelchair through a graceful archway into the next room, revealing a transparent, cylindrical elevator. Its glass doors were seamlessly integrated into the elegant décor, presenting a vision of modern design. As the doors opened, they revealed a circular platform awaiting us.

The doctor gently maneuvered my wheelchair onto it, stepping inside just as the doors closed around us, encasing us in a shimmering cocoon of glass and polished metal.

I marveled as the platform ascended, the sensation akin to floating through air as it whisked us to the first floor in mere seconds. The doors opened with a soft, melodious hiss, revealing a warm and inviting hallway where Mrs. Hinahata stood poised, ready to guide me out of the elevator and toward the last room on the left.

"We only have one room available, and it was a storage space until a few hours ago. I truly apologize for that." She said, her voice imbued with genuine concern. Yet, gratitude surged within me, filling my heart.

"I should be the one thanking you for your kindness in taking me in." I replied earnestly. "Honestly, how many people would so willingly open their doors to a stranger?" My heart swelled with appreciation. "Thanks to your generosity, I feel like I'm on the path to recovery."

The doctor fell quiet, a delicate pink hue creeping onto her cheeks as we approached my new room. I glanced at her, intrigued; perhaps she wasn't used to receiving such heartfelt gratitude.

"No worries at all. Anyway, here we are." She said, elegantly swinging the door open, allowing me into the space.

The room was simple yet inviting, embodying a sense of warmth. In one corner, a single bed was neatly made, draped with crisp, white linens that invited rest. A window nearby filtered soft, golden light into the space, illuminating the corners, while a peculiar blue box occupied the opposite end of the room. The same type of box that I had noticed in the hospital room.

"What are those blue boxes?" I asked, recalling a similar device from my hospital room. The doctor gently lifted the Holograph 2.0 from my lap and placed it at the foot of the bed, then knelt down to assist me in removing my trainers.

"They're personal storage units." She explained, glancing toward the box. "But don't let their size fool you; they can hold a surprisingly substantial amount of items."

Once I was comfortably settled on the bed, propped up by plush, supportive pillows, she handed me the Holograph 2.0. "We'll begin your rehabilitation tomorrow." Mrs Hinahata said, her voice soothing as she turned toward the door. "For now, just relax and take some time to familiarize yourself with what's transpired since your time away." With that, she stepped out, leaving me enveloped in a warm, tranquil silence.

I held the sleek, ultrathin device in my palms, its cool surface reflecting the dim light of the room. My thoughts surged with endless possibilities, each more enticing than the last. "Hmm, where to begin my exploration..." I mused, a blend of excitement and apprehension tingling through me.

Thus commenced my journey into the past, a thrilling endeavor to unearth all that had happened during between 50 years ago and today...

***

As the gentle hues of twilight enveloped us, casting a warm glow in the dimly lit dining room, we gathered around the wooden table. The remnants of our dinner—colorful vegetables, aromatic spices, and rich sauces—lay scattered across plates, a stark contrast to the bland meals I had consumed in the hospital. The satisfying aromas filled the air, making my stomach rumble in appreciation.

"I'd like to try going to school." I declared suddenly, my voice slicing through the comfortable hum of conversation. The moment hung heavy in the air as all eyes turned to me, a mixture of curiosity and surprise flitting across their faces.

Mr. Hinahata cleared his throat, glancing toward Mrs. Hinahata with a thoughtful expression. "Well, school will close for the summer break in a few weeks. But once the new school year starts, I don't see any reason why you can't attend." He said reassuringly. A silent agreement passed between them, but I noticed a thread of concern woven into their expressions. Meanwhile, Kei lounged in her chair, her posture slumped, her disinterest radiating like a force field.

"School ain't all that interestin'." She remarked with a wide yawn, slumping further in her chair, her elbow resting carelessly on the table, head drooping in her palm as if the very thought of school bored her to tears.

"That's because you hardly ever show up." Mrs. Hinahata snapped back, her eyes narrowing as she pinned her daughter with a look, her exasperation palpable in the bustling atmosphere of the room.

Kei pushed herself away from the table with an audible scrape, her chair protesting against the wooden floor. Standing tall, she emanated a fierce defiance. "Not like they teach anythin' I don't already know." She retorted, pivoting sharply and striding out of the kitchen, leaving her parents to exchange heavy sighs, their frustration hanging in the air like an uninvited guest.

"I just wish I understood why she detests school so much." Mrs. Hinahata murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Turning her attention to me, she continued warmly, "If you want to attend school, we'll make the necessary arrangements for you. But for now, let's focus on your rehabilitation. Ok?"