A monotone beeping from an ICU monitor sent a mother to her wits end.

"I can't do this any longer!"

"Akari calm down, you'll disturb the other patients"

"When will I get my son back?" she pleaded, while pulling at the shirt of her husband. Their attention is soon pulled by a receptionist entering the room.

"Sumimasen, Harada- Kazoku, the doctors would like to speak to with you," she states and walks on, clicking heels fade as she closes the pale blue doors behind her.

[Translation: Sumimasen is Excuse me & Kazoku is family]

They leave behind their youngest son by the bedside of an unresponsive eldest son.

"Watch over your brother," his mother commanded before both step out. Silence falls and the singsong of his heart rings over once more.

That phrase, he thought, overused and no longer necessary.

"It seems we are unable to identify the cause of your son's coma. If you can even call it that." A mumbled whispering could be heard through the thin walls by the listening on.

"What do you mean, Sensei?" a father's weary voice croaks.

"Your son's health is, as it should, for a twenty eight-year-old young man. His vitals stable and heart rate regular, but-" a wilted sighed.

"-but it seems his entered into a heavy sleep like state."

"A deep sleep, not a coma, so then he'll awake?" hopeful.

"We- we don't know, to be honest. His brain activity shows signs of dreaming and with other tests results done. He still has control of physical senses, but his overall subconscious is well... resting. "

"So, like a car being driven by a drunk driver. His driving because his aware of it like muscle memory although his consciousness is sealed away some place else." a nurse elaborates.

"I can somewhat understand that, but then what was the cause of this. Surely if we know the root of this we can-" the mother's hope received with dismay.

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"We thought maybe it was over stimulants from his work of some sorts or from his Asperger's-"

"No, that's not it, his symptoms were never as aggressive as others-" His mother simply states.

"That's right, so much so that no-one even realized he had it until the accident in Tokyo-" the mother's hopeful tone takes a turn as she recalls the day of her firstborns passing. She returns to sobbing in her husband's chest.

"Kenji!"

"It's alright," soothing her with one hand at the top of her head.

"I'm sorry to say this, but we have no clue as to what would be able to cause this. It's truly beyond us,"

"I hear that there are shamans-"

"Shamans? They would know more than you do!" a sorrowful retort from the mother, propping up immediately at the absurd suggestion.

"At one of the shrine temples, I know a colleague, I'll refer him to you." the doctor offers, "Harada's, I apologize, there's nothing we can do about this," and walks on his way to another room down the hall.

Meanwhile, in the room left behind, the youngest born. Through, overhead information, speaks to his brother in hopes that he hears him.

"Anki, you'll wake up, when you feel like, right?"

"I would escape too, from reality, if I could" his brother lay down his head beside him.

"If you see Kane- Aniki tell him,"

"Gomen" [Translation- I'm sorry]

...

In the late afternoon of Osaka, Japan, the cicadas cries aided only to annoy further a young man already haunted by his thoughts.

A fogged memory, "Get out!" she cries in agony, holding her mouth shut with a hand to prevent any more to be said.

Each step taken in remembrance of the night before.

"Kaa-San, it's not his fault. You know this, right?" a desperate plea for peace in his family.

The clacking of his bag and black leather shoes clicked against the concrete road. A stark contrast to the greenery of puffed hedges against the side walk.

A road to home he'd taken countless times, though this time a swinging arm gripping a liquor bottle took turns up to his mouth and back to the crisp air of summer.

The chafing between his thighs from the navy blue shiny material served only has a moment's distraction to tripping against pebbles along his path.

"Shimatta!" He hissed to his foolishness, and took a hand to his throbbing ankle. An awkward fumble slips his drink, mingling with the white of his crisp button shirt.

A few mumbled complaints and a soft voice beckoning for his attention. He froze, darted weary eyes back and forth ahead of him.

Another soft whisper. His name called from a woman's voice behind. Frantic to catch her, he spins on his heel to meet an empty, familiar neighbourhood street.

He hadn't been good with alcohol and blamed it on the few sips of pleasure.

Turning back around, hand soothing his against the ankle again. He looks up to a scenery of fresh air blasting across his face. A waved fluff of hair tossed up and wide-eyed at the beautiful field of sunflowers before him.

His heel clicks against the soft tuffs of green grass as he stares in awe and wonder if he'd had not gone made of all his stresses of life. That sound echoed and faded out in the empty street of his familiar neighbourhood.

...

"It has been two days since the disappearance of xxxx- San. As indicated before, we have been informed not to disclose his real name or personal information. Physical footage is provided of when-" an old box set television cuts out.

"Hey, I was watching that?!" a protest from a sibling on the counter top in the kitchen rings through the humble abode.

"Pipe down, you two!" A father, in half dressed Western military garments, calls over to his twins bickering in Japanese.

"Sorry!" A simple English phrase, in unison, sends him back to his newspaper in front of him.

"You know, I think it's my friend's onee-san," she chirps on and nibbles on frail nori in hand.

"What makes you say that?" the brother retorts, mouth full from digging into a mac and cheese dish with chopsticks.

"Remember Jiro- Nee, yeah he's been in a coma for some time, and they don't know what happened,"

"Did you two finish your homework?" The father asks in Japanese with a heavy American accent.

"You're in your first year of high school starting tomorrow, enough with the quibbling of things that don't concern you"

They take that as their cue to escape washing up their dishes.

"Oyasumi!" [Translation- Goodnight!]

"You think Akira would come to the orientation tomorrow?!" the brother calls out from his room across his sisters.

"You two!" exasperated.