Yuanye Wei's apartment door wasn't locked. I pushed it open, and the light from the corridor spilled in ahead of me, cutting a bright rectangle across the floor.
Tsukago followed behind me, her boot heel landing on the threshold and then sinking into the carpet, the sound shifting from hard to soft.
I changed into a jet-black apron. She changed into a light pink apron.
He was sunk into the sofa. The TV was on, a cartoon cat being chased by a mouse, the sound effects filling the living room. His eyes were aimed at the screen but they were already closed.
The remote slipped from his dangling fingers, hit the carpet, and the battery cover cracked open a seam.
I walked over to the sofa, bent down, and pressed the back of my hand to his forehead. The skin was hot, the dry heat of a low fever. He opened his eyes. His lids were swollen, his eyeballs threaded with red veins.
He looked at my hand, then followed my arm up to my face.
"Hanzi." His voice was hoarse, as if sandpaper was caught in his throat.
I pulled my hand back. "You have a fever."
He lifted his other hand and pointed at his temple, his finger wobbling in the air before it found the spot.
"It's been hurting right here. Headaches. Insomnia. I lie down and my brain keeps spinning. It won't stop."
I sat down on the corner of the coffee table. The height put my line of sight just above his.
He had to tilt his head up slightly to look at me.
"Your headache isn't from being sick. It's because you're still trying to stay in control." His hand stopped on his temple.
The red veins in his eyes stood out sharply in the glow of the TV.
"The last time we made breakfast at your place, you said your stomach used to hurt every time your phone buzzed.
We took your phone away, and you ate two breakfasts. That was the first time you didn't have to think about anything.
What happened after that." His fingers slid from his temple down to his knee.
"After that you left. I sat on the sofa alone and started thinking again. About that deal that never closed. About the people blocking my door. About what to do next."
"So your headaches started again." He didn't answer, just sank the back of his head into the sofa cushion.
The velvet had already molded into a hollow that matched the shape of his skull exactly.
Tsukago circled around from the other side of the sofa. As she passed me she lowered her voice.
"Sister, he's turned his brain onto spin-cycle mode. One broken thing tumbling around and around, eight hundred cycles and still no result."
"A spin cycle is supposed to dry things out. His just makes everything wetter." Tsukago held back a laugh and sat down on the arm of the sofa.
She smoothed the hem of her apron flat.
"Yuanye Wei. Do babies get headaches." He turned his head to look at her, his brow creasing. Not anger—he just didn't understand.
"Babies don't have to think about anything. Someone feeds them when they're hungry, soothes them when they're tired, holds them when they're cold.
Babies can't even roll over on their own, but the whole world revolves around them. Look at that cat on TV.
A mouse has been chasing it for eighty episodes and it's still running. It doesn't get headaches, because it doesn't decide where to run."
On the TV, the cat launched itself off a sofa, got its belly stomped by the mouse, yowled, and landed in a fish tank.
Yuanye Wei did not laugh.
"But I'm an adult." He sank a little deeper into the sofa, his spine curving into an arc.
"Adults can also stop thinking." I pressed my hand against the edge of the coffee table and leaned forward.
"You tried it once. You ate two breakfasts. Now try it for longer. Give us the decision-making. All you need to do is lie there."
He was silent for a long time. On the TV, the cat crawled out of the fish tank, shaking water everywhere.
The mouse stood on the windowsill making faces at it. Yuanye Wei watched the cat, but his eyes weren't focused on it.
He lifted his hand from his knee, then let it drop. A few seconds passed. He lifted it again, then dropped it again.
As if weighing something invisible.
"But if I don't make decisions, who will handle things."
"You've been making decisions for so many years. What have you produced." Tsukago slid off the arm of the sofa and crouched in front of him.
"A bankrupt company and a bunch of suppliers blocking your door. Make a few more decisions, and they'll be hauling away this sofa to pay off your debts."
Yuanye Wei opened his mouth. No sound came out.
——He piled every decision onto his own shoulders and then asked why his shoulders hurt.
It's not that his shoulders were stupid. He just thought hurting meant he was getting things done.
"We'll handle it." I closed my phone. His number had been dialed five times in the past half hour. "You dialed five times. Every single time, you wanted me to make a decision for you.
After the fifth call, you fell asleep. Your body already chose. Your brain just hasn't caught up yet."
He looked down at the remote on the carpet. The seam where the battery cover had cracked open was still there, the silver spring inside exposed.
He picked the remote up, flipped it over in his hand, and the battery cover snapped shut with a click. Then he placed it on the coffee table and slid it toward my hand.
"I won't think anymore. I'll listen to you." Tsukago reached out and nudged the remote another half inch toward me, then lifted her head and looked at him.
"Freedom isn't being able to do anything. It's not having to do anything. You used to think from morning to night, and your company still disappeared.
Now you hand your brain over to us, and at least you'll get a good night's sleep. That brain of yours is way more qualified as a decoration than as a decision-maker."
Yuanye Wei lifted the back of his head from the sofa cushion. For the first time, his spine did not curve.
The time his back left the sofa was very short, and then he leaned back again, but this time his shoulders were loose.
[chat] He's fallen 😭
[chat] Daughter is so good at this 😭
[chat] The remote hands over decision-making
[chat] He finally gave in 👏
I stood up from the sofa. Tsukago came over and leaned close to my ear. "Sister, when he said that but just now, this girl thought he was about to start reciting pi.
That expression was like he'd been constipated for three days and all he could squeeze out was one but."
"He's been holding it in for thirty years. He's only just learning how not to. Give him time."
"Thirty years to squeeze out one bankrupt company. Impressive efficiency." I held back a laugh and glanced back at the sofa. Yuanye Wei had already closed his eyes.
"Start with sleep. Don't think about what comes next. When that time comes, someone will think for you."
Yuanye Wei pulled his legs out from under the coffee table and curled onto his side on the sofa. His knees drew up, his toes pressing against the armrest. When his eyes closed, his eyelids no longer twitched.
Tsukago pulled the small blanket from beside the sofa and draped it over him. One corner slipped to the floor, just inches from where the remote had fallen earlier.
She tucked the fallen corner between his shoulder and the sofa cushion, her movements very gentle.
"Babies don't need blankets, but he's already forgotten how to be a baby. We'll teach him again. Lesson one: if your brain isn't being used, shut it off. Don't let it idle."