By his fourth week of recovery, Javier had developed a daily routine that the hospital staff found both impressive and concerning. He woke before dawn to complete extra physical therapy exercises in his room, spent his official therapy sessions pushing himself beyond what the doctors recommended, and devoted every free moment to researching ways to find Aiko.
"Javier, you need to pace yourself," Dr. Ramirez warned as he watched his patient attempt to walk farther than his rehabilitation plan called for. "Recovery isn't a race."
"It is for me," Javier replied, gripping the parallel bars with determination that bordered on obsession. "Every day I spend in this hospital is another day she doesn't know what her mother wanted to tell her."
His tablet had become his constant companion, filled with browser tabs about Japanese hairstyling schools, international student exchange programs, and social media searches for anyone matching Aiko's description. He had created detailed notes about everything Emiko had told him, organizing the information like a detective building a case.
"You're becoming fixated on this search," Isabella observed during one of her visits, noting the scattered papers and screenshots covering his bedside table. "The doctors are worried you're not focusing enough on your own recovery."
"My recovery depends on completing this mission," Javier said simply. "I can't move forward with my life until I know whether what happened to me was real."
The intensity of his determination surprised everyone, including himself. Before the accident, Javier had been focused but balanced, dedicated to cycling and his studies without becoming consumed by any single goal. Now, finding Aiko felt like the only thing that mattered.
"Tell me again what you remember about where this encounter took place," Isabella said, settling into the visitor's chair with the patient expression of someone who had heard this story many times.
"A park, somewhere with a hill where you could see the city below. There was a fountain nearby, and cherry blossom trees. She was sitting on a bench, completely soaked from the rain." Javier's voice took on the focused intensity it always had when recounting details. "Her hair was so tangled and matted that it looked like it hadn't been properly cared for in months."
"And you spent about an hour helping her?"
"Maybe longer. I sectioned her hair carefully, used water from the fountain, worked through each tangle with patience. She didn't speak much at first, but gradually she started to relax. By the end, she looked completely different—not just her hair, but her whole demeanor."
Isabella watched her brother's face as he described the encounter, seeing a peace there that she hadn't witnessed since his awakening. It was clear that the memory of helping Aiko was as meaningful to him as his determination to find her now.
"What if she doesn't want to be found?" Isabella asked gently. "What if she's built a life that doesn't include connections to that difficult time in her past?"
"Then I'll respect that," Javier replied immediately. "But I have to at least try to reach her. If Emiko was real, if those messages were genuine, then Aiko deserves to know her mother never stopped loving her."
Over the following days, Javier's research became more systematic. He had identified several Japanese hairstyling academies with international programs, cross-referenced them with Spanish cultural exchange partnerships, and begun reaching out to international student organizations.
"I've been thinking about the encounter," he told Dr. Herrera during one of their sessions. "She seemed young, maybe a teenager. If she was inspired by what happened that day, she might have pursued something related to hair care or beauty."
"You're building a lot of assumptions on limited information."
"I'm building a search strategy on the details I have," Javier corrected. "Emiko told me Aiko would pursue beauty work because of what I showed her that day—that caring for someone's appearance could be an act of kindness rather than vanity."
His physical therapy sessions had become secondary to his research, though his progress remained remarkable. The doctors attributed his rapid recovery to his motivation, not realizing that his motivation was entirely focused on leaving the hospital to continue his search in person.
"I've been thinking about social media differently," Javier explained to Isabella during her next visit. "Instead of trying to find her directly, what if I make myself findable? If I share my story publicly, maybe she'll see it or someone who knows her will."
"That's a significant step. Are you ready for that kind of attention?"
"I'm ready for whatever it takes to complete this mission."
By the end of his fifth week, Javier had convinced his doctors to accelerate his discharge timeline. His physical recovery was progressing faster than expected, and his mental determination was unshakeable.
"I need to get back to my life," he told them during a discharge planning meeting. "But my life now includes finding this girl and delivering her mother's message."
"And if you can't find her?"
"Then I'll know I did everything possible to honor what Emiko entrusted me with. But I will find her. I have to believe that someone who spent months talking to me about her daughter wouldn't have done so unless there was a way to complete the mission."
As he prepared for discharge, Javier organized his research into a comprehensive plan. He would return to his apartment, continue his rehabilitation as an outpatient, and dedicate every available moment to finding Aiko.
The girl from the hill had become more than a memory or a mission—she represented proof that his experience with Emiko had been real, and that love could transcend even briefly anchored molecular body death to deliver important messages.
Somewhere in the world, Aiko was living her life, unaware that a determined young man was organizing his entire recovery around finding her and sharing the message her mother had died wanting her to hear.
Javier intended to make sure that message reached its intended recipient, no matter what it took to find her.