February. We've come so far. It's raining and snowing together, a wintry mix. I see the snow now, from my hospital window, shadows on the brightly lit curtains from the city lights, like little, gentle secrets. Should I be awake? He sleeps now, his head on my bed, in his hands. He's fallen asleep finally. I saw the worry in his eyes. "Shinpaishinaide," he kept telling me over and over. Don't worry, my darling. We'll go home soon. My mom will be there. She will make you katsudon.

I want to eat katsudon. I want to make katsudon. He loves when I cook for him. My strange Asian-American fusion dishes. He loves when I bake for him, too. The many cakes I try out. And even when they don't work, I still find him standing at the refrigerator at midnight, taking a forkful out of my failure cake. "Umai," he just says simply with an innocent face, when I catch him over and over again. It makes my heart full of butterflies, and he likes this term of mine to describe my heart. My Americanism, turned our -ism, something we say to each other to express a heart too full of emotions.

But now we are here because of my heart. My failure heart. My failure body. He is here, curled like this, with the light of the moon and the shadows of the falling shapes beyond the curtain, because of me. I dare not put my hand on his head, as he does to me so many times because he knows it makes me calm, because I dare not cause him to be awake. He was so worried today, I bet he is worried as he sleeps. I bet he dreams of me. Of all the terrible things that can happen. And I stay awake because of all the terrible things that can happen. I am too scared to sleep.

Instead, I think of the day we met. It was only a few months ago, strange to think that. Look how far we've come, only in a few months. We met at the beginning of October. Actually, I knew of him for so long before that. He is a musician, as am I. But I had been a fan of him for so many years. He's just so much like me. We like the same music. I was ever silent, quietly following his social media things. Excited to see what he was doing. But one day...

One day, he wrote that he was sick on his blog. He had a pretty terrible flu, and wrote with such suffering. He wrote that he wished someone could make miso soup for him, like his grandma used to make. He said he was lonely. Such an atypical entry. My hand pressed to my heart and I let out a pathetic noise, and I could not keep silent. I agonized over my decision, but after so many years, I wrote to him. A black pebble in the dark, likely to go unnoticed even if it makes a sound. 

But it made a sound. 

To my surprise, he responded so quickly. What did I say? What in the world did I say in this letter over an email? All I said was that I was a musician, too. That I could make some pretty good miso soup. I wrote it like it was a joke, just in case it needed to be taken as a joke. But he didn't take it as a joke. Maybe I caught him at just the right time, maybe in just the right emotions. I don't know. But there he was in my net, vulnerable, and suddenly staring at me with his full eyes. 

I wanted to scream, all these emotions. 

But I quickly learned he was just this normal person. He asked me to call him, and I called him over the computer in a video chat. There, we chatted. I told him about me, that I like to cook. He was quite excited, because he doesn't know how to cook. He claimed he would burn candy just by taking it out of the package. We had a good laugh at that. And oh, his laugh. That smile. My heart was overflowing with butterflies. Just this warm honey feeling, calm, beautiful. 

I told him I am a musician, once again. He wanted to know what I do. So, I took out my violin and he leaned closer to the camera. I played one of his songs, but it was his vocal part. I think this was what led to him being enchanted. I'm not sure. He is still a mystery to me. But something I did led to him inviting me over to his apartment. 

And once there, I made miso soup for him. I helped him to his bed. I covered him in a blanket. And I cleaned his apartment. Around 3am, he woke up and found me doing his laundry. He says this is the moment where he fell in love, but he didn't know it at the time. This is the story he tells everyone. I was there, putting laundry into the dryer, singing a song. A song about the joy of a beautiful love, in an aching, high voice, a thin cry of passion. I did not think he'd be awake. I sang to comfort myself, a song which is one of my favorites. I did not imagine he would hear, and that it was one of his favorites, too. But that was the moment which led to where we are.

Earlier this evening, his sister came by my hospital room and wanted to know what was going on. "What is wrong, what happened today? Did Sana fall out of his wheelchair? Is that what happened? I heard from mom. Why did you fall out of your wheelchair? Did you hit your head? Will you be home soon?" 

I was too weak to answer. Tetsu answered for me. "Sana did fall. He didn't hit his head. He was very nauseous and vomited a lot, and was so weak he fell out of his wheelchair at home in our bedroom, and could not get up. We don't know why he is vomiting. It's not something he has eaten. We were going to come to the hospital today anyway to see his doctor to get some tests done, because he's been so weak and tired lately. But we came by ambulance. I'm glad you don't think that's dramatic. I thought it was necessary. Mom thought it was necessary, too. My goodness, I was so scared. I called for mom when it happened! I called the paramedics. Sana said he didn't feel good at all, that he felt weird. They took him here. The emergency doctor who's seen us before is seeing us again. That's comforting."

The whole time, I was so worried, because Tetsu hadn't eaten at all, not once today. I'd fallen early in the morning. I'd wanted to cook breakfast for us. That's why I was up so early. But I felt so nauseous all of a sudden. I couldn't stop vomiting. I didn't know where it came from. Where did it come from? Why is my body doing this? Why now? Tetsu found me two hours later in the bathroom which is attached to our bedroom, laying on the floor. He carried me to my wheelchair, and that's when I fell, and he realized how sick I felt. I never want to see that look on his face again. 

His sister stayed with us until about 10pm. That's when Tetsu sent her home, for fear of the wintry mix that was coming in. "It's going to be a big storm, you don't want to get stuck here with us, do you? Your husband will miss you," he'd told her. She'd reluctantly left then. I know how much Natsuko cares for me. She is the leader in the family's fight for us to get married. She desperately wants to be my sister in law. But we've only known each other since October. However, I know she can sense a change in her brother, and I can see it, too. 

There was a time, early in this relationship, when Tetsu's family didn't know much about me. They knew none of my secrets. But this illness has a way of revealing things. I'd been in the hospital in December, and there was a point where Tetsu trusted them enough to tell them something which I keep hidden from most people. 

"Sana is transgender," he'd told them while I was asleep. "He was born female at birth, but he is male and has always been male. Please don't see him any other way. However, in order to treat him the staff knows he is transgender, and I didn't want you to find out through one of them saying something. So I am telling you." 

Because I am transgender and my birth certificate still says female, we can legally get married. However, I don't think either of us wants to. Once again, we only met in October. But even his mom is excited. So, so excited for her son. This change in him. I can't help but catch their fever, though I shake my head. They are just so joyful, so full of smiles. So playful. It's not something I am used to seeing in a family.

And tonight, Tetsu said something which makes me stare at the falling shadowy shapes beyond my hospital curtains. He said, if we did get married then he would hold me the whole time during the ceremony so I could not fall. He would not let me go, no matter what. He said this so casually, almost in a joking way, with that big smile that I adore, because Natsuko had been talking about us getting married again before she left. I didn't know what to say, so I just started crying. And he held me, just like he said he would. I felt so warm, so safe. Not something I've ever felt before. This completeness. Feeling his warm breath on the side of my face as our cheeks pressed together. His hair against my face. His gentle, yet totally encapsulating touch. I felt like...I'd never be alone again. My heart was overflowing with butterflies, and I knew his was, too. 

"Ah, are you awake?" 

That voice. I looked down, and there he was, awake. A night owl, as always. I knew he wouldn't be asleep for long. 

He propped his head up, using an elbow on the bed, staring at me with those now familiar adoring eyes. "Feel sick?" he asked, his voice taking on its distinct higher tone that I know so well, now that he is more awake, I dare say alarmed, by my wakefulness. 

"No, I feel okay."

"Oh. Oh, good." Good. Said so full of relief. It makes my eyebrows crease upward in the love for him, involuntary. "You don't feel nauseous? Did the anti-nausea medication work?"

I just nodded and smiled at him. He's so adorable, so sleepy. He rubbed his eyes and I can see he is trying to make himself more awake. He doesn't need to do that for me. 

Suddenly, he smiled. Ah, that smile. He laughed a little bit. "I can't believe we left the house without your contacts or glasses. That's never happened before. I need to remember this." His smile went a little sad, a far away look, just for a split second, but I saw it. Please don't feel sad. 

But, I know he is sad, because of something which happened earlier today. He thought I was sleeping, but I was not asleep. His mom had come by with my glasses and an overnight bag for us. He'd told her quietly that he'd asked my doctor, Yokohara-sensei, to ask the hospital to admit me due to his fear that I might have an emergency during the snowstorm, and that he might not be able to get me to the hospital due to the snow and ice. My doctor had apparently faxed this over hastily. She was concerned for me, too. Which makes me concerned. When my doctor is worried, that is a bad sign. She's usually so cavalier on purpose, trying to get me to not worry. But this is serious. 

Just a few days ago, we'd been so happy. I'm still trying to be happy. I can see everyone else is trying to be happy, too. But it is a strain. Just a few days ago, his family had been joking with us, because my feelings of sickness had been taking a downturn. "Maybe you're going to start a family, maybe that is what it is," they'd joked. "You've done it now." We'd all had a big laugh about that. It really took the worry away. But I didn't get any better. 

For days, I'd been laid on the couch, laying on top of Tetsu as he held me. His mom would come and cover us with a pink blanket. I just felt so weak and tired, in and out of sleep, fluttering. Tetsu kept me company, talking to me when I was awake. About the songs I was working on, covers of things. The sheet music. My band members. The new band members that I want to add to our ensemble for the sound that I want. Things that make me happy. I asked him about his own music. It made him smile. "Shinpaishinaide," he'd said, with that smile and cute expression. Don't worry. 

But I do worry, because my illness is taking him away from his music. It's ripping me away from my own music. And I don't know what to do. I hesitate to say that my band is now on hiatus, in limbo. We don't know what direction we're going, because I'm so sick. We made this decision in December, announced it on social media. The few fans we have are so worried and devastated. I read the forum they made. They know somehow that Tetsu and I are dating. They now know about my illness. But they suspected I was sick years ago, when I fell down on stage. It is now an infamous video. I fell down like a singing bird who'd been shot by a hunter's arrow. Something I'd hoped never to show anyone. 

"What are you thinking about?" He's smiling at me, his chin on the bed. He's tired. I feel sorry, but I don't say that. He doesn't like it when I say sorry. It makes him feel sad.

"About you."

"Oh?" His shocked expression. A wondering expression, with cautious joy. I press my hand to his precious cheek. So warm. 

"Because I love you."

He presses his face to my hand for a brief moment, I feel his breath in my hand, it's my whole world. And in the same breath... "I love you, too."

And I know it's true. His eyes are closed, and his small smile is a little essence of bliss in my hand.

Somehow, I am smiling, too. I laid back on my propped up bed, and somehow slowly, with the little shadows gently falling outside, I fell asleep again.