Half-Sight

04 | investigation

a/n

hey everyone! i hope everyone's doing well and hanging in there before school wraps up for the holidays. 

here is an update for chapter 4 of half-sight :) feel free to reach out to me if you have any questions or comments!

all my love,

krissy

♙

nine years ago

hina ogawa

CONGENITAL TOXOPLASMOSIS.

It's a mouthful. But they're the first words that carve a space into bones even though I have no idea what they mean.

"It's hereditary," says the doctor. The office walls are peeling with lavender paint. Sunlight streams through wooden blinds. I'm young, so young the only thing I remember is the onigiri trembling in my hands. Pity gift. "I pulled up her records. A parasite from her mother's Red Lung infection caused her retinas to experience severe scarring upon birth."

"We know that. She's half-sighted," otousan murmurs. "I'm just wondering why she's experiencing...stinging."

"Well, that's common," the doctor offers. "Her vision may be worsening."

His eyes widen. "Worsening? But when she was born, the doctors said this was it."

A puzzled pause. "This is it? I'm sorry, what does that mean?"

"Her vision. As in no progression toward good or bad."

"That's not true," replies the doctor slowly. "Perhaps they meant this was her best possible outcome. There are new accommodations that prevent worsened vision now." Papers shift. "In fact, there's a very popular brand with built-in AI systems..."

Tension spikes. My dad's voice lowers. "She doesn't need AI."

"Of course not. It's just an option. I mean, she doesn't even have a cane."

"I'm not going to give my daughter a cane if it's going to heighten the chances of her being terrorized on the streets—"

"As I said, okyaku-san. An option."

And that's that. My dad bows his thanks and guides me from the room gently but firmly. The entire walk home is unsettling.

Otousan gets in these stormy moods often—face dark, brows creased low, this really angst-ridden, agitated look in his eyes. It's a little over a year after okaasan has passed, so any mention of her infection's side effects in me is like poison to his mood. At times like this, a voice flares up in my head. Real useless, Hina. You want to be a liability for the rest of your life?

So the idea of not even a cane, but a vision-enhancing AI system makes my heartbeat spike with disbelieving excitement. Advertisements on train station walls or bus pelts start speaking to me. I see bold kanji written beside an image of a contact lens.

LIVE HALF-SIGHTED. Except the word HALF is blacked out in a sweep of ink.

But then otousan comes back late from work, ridden with exhaustion and smelling of tobacco, bringing home a paycheck that can barely pay for food, utilities, transportation, rent—and all my hopes fade gently away.