REFLECTION

The phone was ringing again. A crash of thunder from outside shook the entire building. Shin rubbed his eyes and pulled himself out of bed for the third time that night. What was it this time? A stroke? A head trauma? Or perhaps one of those rare cases that no one can figure out? He grabbed the phone clumsily and fumbled with it until the speaker was facing the right direction. "Dr. Mouri speaking."

"Sir? Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry—"

"It's fine, it's fine. What's the emergency?"

There was a pause. Then, "Oh, no. This is your doorman, from downstairs. Remember me?"

"Yes, Mr. Satou, how can I forget?" said Shin, propping one elbow against the desk, wondering who might call him next. "Weekdays, midnight shift. But… why are you calling?"

"There's a man downstairs to see you. Says his name is… sir, what was your name again?"

Shin groaned inwardly, grabbing the nearest piece of paper and crumpling it with the hand that wasn't holding the receiver. He groaned again when he realized it was the medical history for one of his new patients—he'll just have to make a copy of it later. And what was taking the doorman so long?

Suddenly, a new voice came on the other end. "Shin? Shin, are you there?"

That voice. It was so familiar, yet Shin couldn't quite pinpoint whose it was. "Yes, I'm here. Who is this?"

"It's… it's me. Seiji."

Shin's heart nearly stopped, but he wasn't exactly ready for another visit to the hospital, even if it would be as a patient this time. "Oh, my goodness. It's been forever. Okay, stay right there. I'll be down there to meet you in a minute. No, less than a minute."

He threw on a jacket and rushed to the elevator. Had Seiji sounded a little shaky, or had his voice just changed? Maybe he had stayed out in the rain without an umbrella for too long. Maybe he had caught a cold. Maybe Shin should have brought another jacket downstairs. But it was too late for that. The elevator door opened.

They stared at each other for the longest time, as if to compensate for those lost years. Seiji had cut his hair to reveal both eyes. His jaw and cheekbones were now more defined, but he was definitely the same Seiji. Looking at him made Shin wonder if he had changed just as much.

"How long has it been?" Shin finally whispered. "Eight, nine years? Oh, I can't even remember."

Seiji smiled a little. "It'll be ten next month."

"Well, you're soaking wet. Let's go upstairs and get you some dry clothes."

When they got to Shin's apartment door, Seiji hesitated for a moment before stepping in after his friend. "Is there… anywhere I can leave my shoes or clothes? I don't want to get your floor wet."

Shin laughed and flipped on the light switch, revealing the pile of papers and magazines on the floor. "No need for cleanliness or formality around here. I'm turning into Touma. After ten years, my transformation is almost complete. Wait here. Let me bring you something else to wear."

Seiji picked up one of the papers on the floor. It was a page from the Japanese Journal of Medical Science.

"Here you go," said Shin, tossing him a large sweater and a pair of sweatpants. "You can change in the bathroom. It's on your left, if you don't remember where it is."

As Seiji disappeared into the bathroom, Shin sank down on the couch and took a deep breath. As much as he needed it, he wasn't going to get any more sleep tonight. Of course, he was absolutely delighted to see his old friend again, but he secretly wished Seiji could have picked a better time to visit. Perhaps something urgent came up again…

He suddenly felt a cold hand on his shoulder. It was Seiji, now in Shin's dry clothing, who had somehow sat down next to him without him noticing. "Shin, you look pretty tired. I know you're probably getting ready to stay up the entire night, but we can talk tomorrow morning."

Shin suddenly felt very relieved, not because of Seiji's offer, but because it moved him to think Seiji was visiting for personal reasons. "No, it's all right," he said. "I'm afraid I won't be home the entire day tomorrow—"

"All the reason for you to rest."

"I'll be okay," Shin said firmly, walking over to the stove to heat some water. "Besides, I want to hear from you. Where have you been? What are you doing in Tokyo?"

"I… It's kind of hard to explain," Seiji began. "Well, less hard to explain and more difficult for me to say."

"Some tea?" Shin asked from across the room. He brought over two cups anyway, despite Seiji's polite refusal. "Have some. You need it."

Seiji received the cup gratefully. "It's a good thing you still live here," he said, taking a sip. "I would never have found you otherwise. I wasn't even expecting to visit you here."

"I wasn't expecting to see you either," said Shin, touching his shoulder lightly. "You don't have to tell me why you came. I just want to know what you've been doing for all these years."

"Well, I inherited my grandfather's dojo," said Seiji. "It's not so peaceful up in Miyagi anymore. You've probably heard, but the population has been soaring these past few years. Sometimes, it feels as if I'm running a business and not a dojo. So what are you doing now?"

"I'm a neurosurgeon. It's nice to still be saving lives, without the fighting."

Neither of them said anything else, but the silence was a comfortable one. Shin found himself imagining what the situation might be like if Shuu, Touma, or Ryo were the one visiting late at night. Shuu would be talking nonstop, and probably rummaging through the refrigerator and making himself right at home. Touma would probably do something similar, without the talking part, in which case the silence might not be so comfortable for Shin. With Ryo, every sentence would probably start with "I can't believe…" or "Do you remember the time when…" Then, it would be all friendly hugs and pats on the back.

But Seiji… They rarely spoke to each other back in the old days, only because they didn't quite have to. It was a strange sort of mutual understanding. However, there was something different about Seiji now—something softer, as if all these years of peace had smoothed out the edges in his heart.

"Shin," said Seiji suddenly. "I don't know why I came to Tokyo. All I know is that it has something to do with the five of us."

"Us? Or our armors?"

"Us, as humans, as normal people in this world. Or maybe it's just me. Have you spoken to Ryo, Shuu, or Touma lately?"

"The last time I spoke to Shuu was at least five years ago. I was still in school back then." Shin smiled at the memory. "He told me he was studying to be an architect, but that he would much rather be a professional food sampler. Have you talked to them?"

"I kept in touch with Touma," said Seiji. "He works at the NASDA (Note: National Space Development Agency of Japan) headquarters now. His father is absolutely ecstatic about it."

"Wow. Not that I'm surprised," said Shin amusedly. "Isn't that here in Tokyo? Did you visit him?"

Seiji lowered his eyes. "No, I didn't. I didn't tell him I was coming."

Shin resisted the urge to ask why, hoping Seiji would tell him if he needed to. He drained his tea and gestured toward Seiji's half-empty cup. "More tea? The water on the stove is warmer now."

"Yes, please. Thank you."

For a while, they drank their tea quietly. Being with Shin suddenly reminded Seiji how good it felt to be sitting on a couch with a close friend. He would have done anything to return to one of those days, where they all sat together in the living room and just talked—not about saving the world, but small random things, like Touma's obsession with Namco games or Ryo's bad sense of fashion. Even Shuu and Shin's conversations about Astro Boy brought back pleasant memories. Seiji could think of something to say to each of them, if only he were there again.

He sighed and leaned back on the couch. "Would you choose to be a neurosurgeon again, if you were given the chance to go back?" His voice sounded strangely light, as if it were coming from the next room.

"That's a tough one," said Shin thoughtfully. "If I had known medical school was so challenging, I might not have chosen this path. But knowing the rewards, I would probably go through it again."

"Shin, that's great. I still remember the time you told us you weren't sure what you wanted to do for the rest of your life." Seiji closed his eyes, trying to recall those few months of confusion. "Now that I look back, that was a horrible time for all of us. You were the one holding us together."

"We all held each other together, Seiji."

"But you made us look at ourselves, at what we were and what we've become. It was so easy to forget ourselves in the world we were in. Who else but Shin constantly keeps in mind those little things that made us—"

He was cut off by a flash of lightening that lit the room and the thunder that followed, causing the lamp next to them to flicker violently.

"Seiji. Seiji, what's wrong?"

The flickering lamp made it hard to see, but Shin could still make out Seiji's limp figure on the couch. Was that Seiji shaking, or was it just the light deceiving him? Suddenly, the figure grabbed Shin by the shoulders, his hands icy and hard.

"Who am I, Shin?" am unfamiliar voice demanded. Shin looked ahead, but he could only see a dark outline of a man. "Tell me I'm still Seiji, and that I'm not in Tokyo, visiting the friend whose compassion I never needed. Tell me I still have a purpose of my own."

"Seiji…"

"I'm so sick of legends, traditions, duty. I thought it was over."

Shin embraced Seiji warmly and pressed their foreheads together, feeling the flood of fear and nausea through whatever was left of their link. "It is over, Seiji," he said, holding himself together willingly. It was all he could do to keep a good friend in one piece. "It's okay now. I understand."

"I know you do," said Seiji softly. "That's why I came to you. How do you do it? How do you just break away and find yourself again? How do you change without changing who you are?"

Hearing Seiji like this made Shin feel achingly weak. What could he say? What could he do?

Trust.

"Look at me, Seiji," Shin whispered. The room was completely dark now.

Seiji lifted his head so that they were face to face, but all he could see was his own reflection in Shin's bright eyes. Suddenly, flashes of his life appeared before him. He saw his mother, his father, and his sisters. He saw his grandfather in meditation. He saw the cat who lived in the basement and his grandfather's bonzai tree. He saw Korin as he found it for the first time. He saw a lost young man in armor. Finally, he saw himself meditating in his grandfather's dojo, unable to clear his mind of his longing and past mistakes. As he leaned in to experience these moments again, they quickly faded and Seiji was left with an image of Shin's concerned face.

"Live with these memories," said Shin. "Don't regret them. Relive them, but don't change them. I want to be able to see Seiji again in another ten years, okay?"

Their hands found each other in the dark and clasped. Shin took that as a promise. They stayed in the embrace for what seemed like eternity, and neither of them noticed when the rain stopped or when the first light of day began to appear.

"Seiji? Have you fallen asleep?" A smile, then two voices laughing.

"No, I just woke up… from a very long nap."

Shin sat up and stretched, reaching for the telephone.

"Who are you calling?"

"First, the hospital, to call in sick."

"Then?"

The telephone rang before Shin could answer. "Hello? Dr. Mouri speaking." There was a pause, then another. Just for that brief moment, time stopped for them, the same way it did so many years ago. Seiji waited patiently for Shin's next response. Suddenly, Shin leaned over and held the receiver at Seiji's ear.

"…and Shuu and I thought it would be a great idea if we could meet sometime this week. Hey, Shin? Are you still there? Okay, then, I'll continue to assume you're in such a state of shock that you can't speak. Or maybe you're still half asleep. Sorry again for calling so early. Anyway, do you happen to have Touma or Seiji's number? Shin? Shin?"

"Ryo," Seiji finally managed to say. "Ryo, it's Seiji. Shin and I… we're both here."