For Centuries - Season 1 [Completed]

Episode 13

"Waterloo Sunset", The Kinks

"Are you keeping a diary?" I asked Tadatsune.

"No, I have never done that."

"You should try. Telling stories from your past and keeping a trace of the events of your life can be very useful. Also, I can teach you some techniques that can help you with your memory."

"Thank you," he said in Japanese. Joe took his hand and then, trying to come around, Tad breathed deeply and said in English: "I can try that."

"You will see that once you have passed that difficult step, you will be able to create a mind connection with other people. The capacity generally appears at this moment. You will be able to read minds to some extent and to open yours for other people. It is tricky at first, but at the same time, training your brain to do it is also a way to anchor you in the present and to put some order in your mind."

He agreed and we worked together. Joseph decided to stay for a while to take care of Tadatsune. We had long conversations about the past and I enjoyed learning about moments of the professor's life that I did not know much about. He was born during the Heian period in an aristocratic family close to the Fujiwara, a clan who ruled the country at the time with the imperial family. He told us about the poets of this era and how much writing was essential to the social life of the court.

He spoke about the first poem he had written himself, when he was a child, on the topic of the color of an old tree. It was not so bad for a first try, according to him, but his lack of technique in calligraphy had prevented him from shining with this piece of work in front of his parents. A very shameful moment, he said to us.

He had understood immediately on this day that words would be the only craft of his life. He could have described the exact feeling of a walk in the garden on a rainy day or the smell of his favorite food. But his ability to tell us his story was still limited by the lack of his memories. At first, they were like very detailed flashes in a blur, but then some missing links reappeared.

He was not always lucid but he was getting better every day. Telling us about his life created connections between his memories and he started to be more and more able to recontextualize what he had in mind. However, he also had to accept the fact that some aspects of his life would ineluctably drown into a cloud of impressions and uncertainties as he would go further in his life. He had to stay anchored and let go.

We finally found the drawing he was looking for. At first, it triggered another crisis, but after a while, the drawing became like a totem in his quest for stability. He did not want to talk about his sister but he showed me a memory of her when they were children in the family home. I could feel the love they had for each other.

Every night, he was reading poetry for us. On these evenings, I discovered the melancholic words of the princess Shikishi, a poet from the XIIth century: "As spring comes my heart melts, and I forget how like the soft snow I go on fading." We even tried to write poetry of our own, a very poor one, I must say, that I decided nevertheless to turn into songs. He was merrier every day, and I could see that Joseph was less worried.