Bryce opts to disregard all that advice. On the morning of the flashforward, he prepares to kill himself out on the Venice pier. For someone who is all, "I walk alone into the valley of death," he sure has no problem making sure there are plenty of bystanders for his lonely trek into mortality. Then we see a sequence only slightly more detailed than the initial series of events in the pilot: Bryce walking out on the pier to go kill himself, looking out over the pier to watch the surfers, preparing to shoot himself, and right as he places the gun to his chin ... passing out. Boy, Bryce is lucky that he didn't squeeze the trigger reflexively.

Then we see his flashforward in some detail: Bryce is sitting at a table in a Japanese restaurant, studying the painted carp on a privacy divider. A kimono-clad waitress comes up to him and he asks her for tea, in Japanese. A girl in a shirt with a waterwheel on it walks over, and when Bryce looks up, it's Keiko -- her hair down, her expression tentative. Bryce says, "You're really here," then, switching to Japanese, invites Keiko to sit down. She does and the two of them stare goonily at each other until the giggles set in. Bryce then takes Keiko's hand and notes the kanji tattoo on her left wrist reading, "Believe." She laughs some more, and then the flashforward ends.

Bryce comes to, looking up at a brilliant blue sky and a bunch of balloons floating heavenward. Keiko comes to on her bathroom floor. She stretches out, then begins laughing in delight at her flashforward.

And now, we're all caught up to the present. Bryce is spending all his free time on two things: painting different impressions of his flashforward, and learning Japanese. We see him at home, painting away, surrounded by giant canvases of Keiko's face. He better have the good sense to put all those away before she comes over, or else she is going to be seriously creeped out. Bryce's language lesson is interrupted by a run to the loo; he's back on the chemo, and it's not sitting well. As he chunders, the tinny little voice on his language tape asks, "How are you feeling today? I hope you are well." O THE IRONY. As the tape reels on, "I am lost. Who are you? What do you want?" I have to wonder: Is it really possible to buy the Rosetta Stone Language Acquisition series, Foreshadowing Edition? Or is that one of those products that cropped up post-flashforward?