The United States of Misha (Misha Post Shizune Good End)

[VenomSymbiote]

This was a much better chapter than usual; I definitely enjoyed it much more. I do have one nitpick- is it really necessary for Misha to add "chan" to every single person she meets? I know within KS she attached it to Hisao almost immediately, but I feel as though that term should be earned from her, rather than just given out freely, especially to people she hardly knows (like her roommate). I know it's probably too late to change that now, but I felt it worth mentioning.

Also, small typo. In the sentence "They’re poor skill reflects poorly on my chosen school," "They're" should be "Their."

[Hoitash]

This was a much better chapter than usual; I definitely enjoyed it much more. I do have one nitpick- is it really necessary for Misha to add "chan" to every single person she meets? I know within KS she attached it to Hisao almost immediately, but I feel as though that term should be earned from her, rather than just given out freely, especially to people she hardly knows (like her roommate). I know it's probably too late to change that now, but I felt it worth mentioning.

Also, small typo. In the sentence "They’re poor skill reflects poorly on my chosen school," "They're" should be "Their."

There, Their, and They're are my mortal enemies. I am a second year graduate student and aspiring writer, and I still can't keep them straight , thanks for noticing, I'm gonna go fix that.

With the nicknames, your right, they are earned,but think about it: Henry is her tutor and her only real in-country contact, Will makes her laugh, and Carla has played a game of Risk, thus earning her a special place in Misha's heart.

It might also be a coping mechanism of some sort, now that I think about it.

What about the last chapter did you find better then the previous ones? I'm always eager to better my craft- figure it might help me get published one day.

[Silentcook]

I am a second year graduate student and aspiring writer,

Ah, this explains a few things. Calling yourself "a writer by trade" before was something of a misrepresentation, then.

Anyway, if this is the case then yes you do NEED to learn to proofread. A piece where you mix those up (or where you use "your right", come to that) isn't even gonna get a look past the mistakes.

Which also means: revise previous parts to insure everything is consistent with your current style choices. Time to take out all those italics in the beginning.

[Hoitash]

I am a second year graduate student and aspiring writer,

Ah, this explains a few things. Calling yourself "a writer by trade" before was something of a misrepresentation, then.

Anyway, if this is the case then yes you do NEED to learn to proofread. A piece where you mix those up (or where you use "your right", come to that) isn't even gonna get a look past the mistakes.

Which also means: revise previous parts to insure everything is consistent with your current style choices. Time to take out all those italics in the beginning.

I'll do that now, then.

I consider myself a writer, both as an editorialist and because its what I do all day due to unemployment, but you're right, and I apoligize- I edited the comment to be more accurate.

I'm better at proofreading then i used to be, so hopefully I'm still getting better.

[griffon8]

Oh, and because of that chapter title I can't get that song about the KKK beating up gay jewish black dudes out of my head... (Come to think of it, I don't even know the original...)

Ha! That's exactly what happened with me.

And I'm glad I didn't get around to reading this until you removed all the italics and brackets. I found it easy to understand what was being conveyed how. Clear writing FTW.

[Hoitash]

Response to my lack of symbols for languages has been positive, so I’m going to continue not using them and try and convey the language through context and writing. Thanks to Silentcook, Oddball, griffon8, and everyone else who’s read and commented. It’s great to be considered part of the community here

As to the chapter ahead: I regret nothing.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Five: For the Emperor!


Thursday afternoon found Misha making her way to the Office for International Students. Henry had agreed to meet her for some ASL tutoring, and she wanted to double check some questions she had about her other courses, as well. The building was easy to find, having a bit more glass than the rest, signifying it as a newer structure. The large sign labeling it helped, too. Walking inside, the layout looked like any other office building; bland paintjob, lobby, front desk, and hallways and stairs that led deeper into the building.

Remembering what Henry had said about finding him, Misha asked the young woman at the counter where Will was.

“Will who?” the secretary asked.

“Er, Henry Donovan’s~ Will?” Misha asked, realizing she didn’t know Will’s full name.

“Oh, that guy. Will Benson. He’s in storage room one, down in the basement. Take the stairs on your left and it’s the first door on the right.”

Misha thanked the secretary and descended the metal and tile stairs down. She easily found the metal white door marked as “Storage One,” though someone had placed tape above the words and written “Student Lounge Two” in black Sharpie.

Opening the door, Misha expected a room full of boxes and totes. What she found was definitely not that. A corner on the far left was full of boxes and totes, but most of the room was empty. Almost empty, at least. Two fold-out tables were laid out parallel to the wall to the left of the door, with a layout of oddly painted miniatures arrayed on opposite corners on a field of fake grass, sand, and buildings. Will was standing against the wall, dressed in a gray trenchcoat with a gaudy gray hat with red trim, a large pin of a silver double-headed bird pinned to it. A red scarf was tied around his waist as he pointed dramatically to a tall young man with sandy blond hair Misha didn’t recognize. The young man was wearing something that she slowly recognized as a costume Viking helmet on his head.

“You greenskins don’t stand a chance against the might of the Emperor!” Will said to the other man.

“Bring it on, dah bigger dah fight, dah better!”

“Will you two get on with it already; I can’t play winner if you never play the damn game.”

Misha hadn’t noticed the young woman sitting in a folding chair against the right wall, but now that she did she was surprised she hadn’t. She had long black hair, with bright brown eyes, and wore a short blue skirt and matching shirt. She was also wearing a bright purple cape that hung behind her over the black metal chair she sat in, her smooth legs fidgeting as she sat. Noticing the door was open, the woman turned her head to face Misha, “the cute brunette a friend of yours?” she asked Will.

Will turned to the door, “oh, hi Misha.”

“Hi, Will. Who are your friends~?” Misha asked, keeping an eye on the other woman; she seemed to keep glancing between her and Will.

“The ork warboss is Jerry,” Will said, and Jerry nodded, not taking his eyes off the game, “and the eldar wytch is my stepsister Lynda. She’s visiting for the weekend from Toronto.”

“Hi,” Misha said to Lynda, ignoring her confusion at Will’s standard enculturation through osmosis technique. Lynda looked Misha up and down, taking in her almost normal colored hair, her light pink dress, and the bag of books and notes at her side hanging over her shoulder. Misha raised her eyebrow, “something wrong?”

Lynda smiled, “no, you just have nice eyes.”

Will coughed, and Misha turned back to him, hopefully hiding the slight flush from Lynda in the process, “I assume you’re here for Henry, and not to be eye candy for my sister.”

Lynda stuck her tongue out at Will as Misha nodded, “I need his help for tutor-ing,” she said.

“He’s in his office, second floor, room seven, dealing with a serious matter that only he is qualified to decide,” Will said, his outfit somewhat underscoring his normally pompous tone.

“Please,” Lynda said, “he’s picking the movie for tomorrow’s movie night,” Lynda looked back at Misha, their eyes meeting for a moment until Misha glanced away- Lynda’s gaze was one of examination, and it made Misha uncomfortable, “hey, you wanna come, we could make it a double date. You, me, and Will and Henry.”

“Uh…”

“Lynda, could you play nice with the international students?”

Lynda rolled her eyes and ignored Will, “I can show you his office while these two finish their game, assuming they ever start it.”

“Thanks,” Misha said, still not sure about the young woman’s interest in her, if that’s what it was. Stepping aside for her to walk out, Misha followed Lynda up the stairs, watching the purple cape twist and rustle as she bounded upwards. Her hair caught the light of the halls in sheens and glimmers, and when she looked at Misha, her bright brown eyes conveyed a confident and inquisitive nature that reminded Misha of Shizune, much like the earlier stare of evaluation had.

“Here we are,” Lynda said, jerking a thumb at the door, “sorry for being a bit blunt; I prefer the direct approach, leaves less chance for people to think things through. I would appreciate it if you came along, though. I don’t like being the only girl there sometimes.”

“…I don’t know you,” it was both the smartest and dumbest thing she could have said, but it was the truth. Still, she was intrigued by Lynda’s forwardness and confidence. The contrast between her and Misha had piqued Misha’s curiosity. Still, random movie nights with her tutor, his friend, and his friend’s stepsister seemed like an odd thing to ask of a complete stranger.

Lynda shrugged, “that can change- and you do know Henry and Will,” she said, opening the door to the second floor. Another white hallway, with blue carpeting this time, greeted them. Room seven wasn’t too hard to find. The door was closed, and Lynda knocked loudly, “It’s the Dean, we have some reports about a misuse of school property!”

“Very funny, Lynda- that room is legit and you know it,” Henry’s muffled voice said. A few seconds later his door was open and he gazed down at Lynda, looking somewhere between amused and annoyed.

“Hello, Henry,” Lynda said, brushing past him into the small office. It looked like several people used it, as the small room had four cheap wooden and metal desks, with eight matching chairs, and a couple of bookshelves on the wall opposite the door. A green plastic potted plant in the far left corner attempted to break up the monotony, since there were no windows. Lynda quickly took a seat in a chair across from one of the desks.

“Come on in,” he said to Lynda, rolling his eyes, then looked at Misha, “you can come in, too. I just need to finish up before we can tutor; we can do that in the lounge down the hall.”

Misha stepped into the office and sat at another chair, after angling it so it faced the same direction as Lynda. Henry sat behind the desk they faced and started signing forms from a small stack, “I just need to sign some forms for some landfill somewhere. You can go now, Lynda.”

“I wanted to ask you something,” Lynda said, crossing her legs, “can Misha come to tomorrow’s movie night?”

Henry stopped signing forms and looked at Lynda, “and you want to invite a complete stranger to our movie night why?”

Lynda shrugged, “she knows you two, how strange can she be. Besides, you and Will are always going on and on about enculturation, what better way then through cultural participation. And I like her hair, makes her seem like a fun person. Are you a fun person?” she asked Misha.

Misha nodded, ignoring her confusion, “I think so~.”

“See, she admitted it,” Lynda said, earning her a glare from Henry. The two entered a staring contest, neither one blinking. Both their gazes pierced into each other, but it was Lynda who cracked first, sighing quietly.

“Fine, you want the truth?” she asked.

Henry nodded and muttered a quick “sorry about this” in Japanese to Misha, who was too focused on the battle of wills before her to worry about being ignored.

“She has that lost look in her eyes I used to have, okay?” Lynda said.

Henry turned to Misha, looked at her eyes for moment, sighed, and turned back to Lynda, “if she wants to come, she can, but,” Henry pointed a pen at Lynda, “ignoring the rules of the Office that violates, if she comes over, I am going to warn her about you.”

Lynda shrugged and turned to face Misha, “my name is Lynda Long, I’m a nineteen year old sophomore at the University of Toronto, I’m bisexual, and suffer from type 1 bipolar disorder,” she turned back to Henry, “that cover it?”

Henry gave a stunned nod. Lynda smiled and trotted off back downstairs.

“Take your meds tomorrow!” he barked after her.

“I will!” she called back.

Henry grunted, “that’s a relief, at least.”

Misha’s brain slowly recovered from the overpowering aura that had filled the room with Lynda- fortunately she was used to such people, “what just happened?” she asked, stunned into her native language.

“Lynda happened,” Henry said, also using Japanese as he quickly recapped what Lynda said, since Misha had missed most of it.

“The choice of going is of course up to you,” Henry concluded, “you going technically violates a couple of University policies regarding mentors and their mentees, but I can wave it off since a visiting international student would be present- and she has a point about enculturation. Besides, the school has bigger issues to worry about, like its students using a storage room as a tax write-off.”

Henry’s smile as he finished gave Misha some confidence, so she didn’t mind asking what Lynda meant by a “lost look.”

Henry shifted a bit, glancing around before answering, speaking in slow English- more from nerves than anything else, likely, “you’re not the only one who’s questioned her sexuality. Her disorder didn’t help with that. Her saying that you remind her of herself when she was younger may be the truth- I don’t know, it’s not my business. Either way, she does have a habit of looking after the younger members of Toronto’s LGBT movement,” Henry chuckled, “her own mentoring program, you could call it. It might be good for you, and she definitely has an interest in you- she normally doesn’t tell people about her disorder; it tends to make them nervous.”

Misha nodded, “that makes sense,” Misha paused, her reluctance and her curiosity fighting each other before curiosity got the better of her, “Tell her I’ll go- it will be a good enculture-ation experience, at least~.”

“I will,” Henry said, smiling and getting up from his desk, “these papers can wait, we should start on the tutoring.”

Misha started to follow Henry as he walked out of the office, but stopped. She had an idea, and she wanted to say it out loud before she left the room, and the last vestiges of Lynda’s confidence that it contained. Besides, who better to tell then the closest person she had to a friend in the States and a complete stranger who wouldn’t judge her?

“Henry?” she asked. He stopped just outside the doorway and turned around.

“Lynda told me about her disorder, so tell her…. Tell her I might be bisexual, too. Maybe,” Misha stared at the floor and bolted down the hall. It was quick, random, out of place, and probably too soon, but she had looked into her past and addressed it to someone. That and the muttered “okay” from Henry, were worth the embarrassment and anxiety that flooded Misha’s system before focusing on performing proper ASL could drain them.


+++

Next Chapter

Dakkadakkadakkadakka…

Never enuff dakka.

[VenomSymbiote]

This was a much better chapter than usual; I definitely enjoyed it much more. I do have one nitpick- is it really necessary for Misha to add "chan" to every single person she meets? I know within KS she attached it to Hisao almost immediately, but I feel as though that term should be earned from her, rather than just given out freely, especially to people she hardly knows (like her roommate). I know it's probably too late to change that now, but I felt it worth mentioning.

Also, small typo. In the sentence "They’re poor skill reflects poorly on my chosen school," "They're" should be "Their."

There, Their, and They're are my mortal enemies. I am a second year graduate student and aspiring writer, and I still can't keep them straight , thanks for noticing, I'm gonna go fix that.

With the nicknames, your right, they are earned,but think about it: Henry is her tutor and her only real in-country contact, Will makes her laugh, and Carla has played a game of Risk, thus earning her a special place in Misha's heart.

It might also be a coping mechanism of some sort, now that I think about it.

What about the last chapter did you find better then the previous ones? I'm always eager to better my craft- figure it might help me get published one day.

I suppose. Still, having read the current chapter, I don't think Misha should start spouting "Lyndachan" just yet, especially considering the somewhat awkward way the two met. As a coping mechanism, it might work, but only if you write in an explanation for it; what is she coping with, so to speak?

To be honest, I can't remember why I disliked the earlier chapters But I can say that cameos are always nice, which is why I liked Shizune's appearance.

[Hoitash]

I suppose. Still, having read the current chapter, I don't think Misha should start spouting "Lyndachan" just yet, especially considering the somewhat awkward way the two met. As a coping mechanism, it might work, but only if you write in an explanation for it; what is she coping with, so to speak?

To be honest, I can't remember why I disliked the earlier chapters But I can say that cameos are always nice, which is why I liked Shizune's appearance.

I may have subconsciously noticed this, since Misha doesn't address Henry or Will with -chan very much, nor will she nickname Lynda for quite a while.

Shizune was hard to write, glad you liked it

[griffon8]

I would appreciate it if you came along, though. I don’t like being the only girl their sometimes.

there

Interesting development. But I thought Misha thought of herself as gay, not bisexual. I could be remembering things incorrectly though.

[Hoitash]

I would appreciate it if you came along, though. I don’t like being the only girl their sometimes.

there

Interesting development. But I thought Misha thought of herself as gay, not bisexual. I could be remembering things incorrectly though.

I'm imagining her move on Hisao has her a bit confused on the subject as well. If anything, that's the "maybe" she was referring to.

Oh, and fixed. Thanks for that

[Hoitash]

This chapter and the previous one were a pain for me to write, so I hope they turn out okay. Feedback is, as always, welcome. I’m actually worried I’m going too OC with Misha, despite the latitude this situation gives her.

One of the hazards of going so left field with a fic, I guess.

Oh, and sorry for failing to properly notify you guys of Thursday's update -oops, I knew I forgot something Thursday.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Six: Dinner and a Movie


Misha spent most of Friday wondering what had come over her to ask Henry to tell Lynda about her sexual orientation. The tutoring session had managed to not be awkward, and that had eased Misha’s worry about her own forwardness. Lynda’s aura of confidence was likely a factor- Henry had said as much after tutoring. Knowing neither of them would really care helped, too.

The knock on her dormitory door at 4:30 pm made her jump. Carla hadn’t heard it; she was too engrossed in the work on her laptop. Getting up from her desk, Misha opened her door to see Lynda, wearing blue jeans and a purple shirt.

“Hi,” she said, seeming a bit calmer then when they had first met- she wasn’t fidgeting, at least, “I thought you might want to get to know me better, and I want to get to know you better, so I was thinking we could grab some dinner before the movie tonight? I’m also sorry for yesterday- Henry told me what you said; if I had known you were so unsure, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

Misha smiled, “it’s okay, he said talking with you might help me with that, so dinner would be great,” Misha paused for a second, “I would not mind if you told me why you were interested in me in the first place, though.”

Lynda shrugged, “like I said, you remind me of myself when I was younger- more then I originally thought, apparently.”

Misha smiled; hearing her say it again, coupled with Henry echoing her, helped reassure Misha that Lynda’s intentions were honorable. She quickly grabbed her purse and said goodbye to Carla, who nodded to show she heard, before closing the door and stepping out to the campus, Lynda next to her and slightly behind on her right.

“So, where do you want to go?” Lynda asked, “I’m not a student, but I can pay for myself, so we can go wherever you want.”

Misha named her favorite on-campus place, and Lynda nodded, “okay, sounds great. Will likes that place, too.”

After a quick walk and the ordering of food, the two found themselves looking across from each-other on a small cheap gray round table. The place was pretty empty; few students ate so early it seemed. The building had a simple gray carpet and matching walls, with tables similar to theirs- in varying sizes- littering the space around them.

Misha examined her cheeseburger and fries before eating them, noting the poor sandwich construction skills of whichever student had made the burger. Lynda had opted for a chicken sandwich with onion rings.

“So,” Lynda said after sipping from her juice, “getting to know each other. Let’s start with the basic stuff, the least likely to upset someone stuff. Your name is Russian, right?”

Misha was used to that and shook her head, “everyone calls me that because of my personality, but I’m from Japan. My real~ name is Shiina.”

Lynda nodded, “I see,” Lynda paused, her eyebrow raised slightly, “Asian names usually mean something; what does Shiina mean?”

“’Good,’ or ‘virtue’,” Misha returned the eyebrow gesture as her own curiosity took hold, “Does Lynda mean anything~?”

Lynda shrugged, “it varies a bit depending on the country and language. The English version means ‘serpent,” Lynda thought for a second, “it’s a mistranslation from German, where it means ‘the old serpent.’ Why it means that, I have no idea.”

Misha’s eyes widened a bit, “you seem to know a lot about names.”

Lynda shrugged again, “I’m studying to be a linguist,” a confused look from Misha, “oh, it’s the study of languages. Why words mean what they mean, how they got that meaning, and how that meaning can change over time. It’s the history of how humanity communicates with each other, really. Make sense?”

Misha nodded- it sort of did, at least, “That sounds really~ neat. Speaking of word meanings, what does “stepsister” mean?” five months wasn’t a lot of time to study a language, even if she hadn’t had anything else to do.

“It means Will and I are related by marriage, not blood-our parents marriage, not ours.”

Misha gave a quick loud giggle at that, and Lynda continued, “Will’s Dad is my stepdad, and my mother is his stepmother- confusing, I know.”

Misha nodded, though she thought she figured it out, “Does your mother live in Toe-ronto?”

Lynda nodded, “she’s an artist with an advertising agency and she needs to be close to work. Some things just can’t be done online. Dad’s in the army; he’s in Iraq right now, and I live on campus anyway, so I don’t really see either of them. I visit Will because we’re pretty close, and he lets me spend the weekend at his and Henry’s place,” Lynda took a big sip and looked into Misha’s golden eyes, “well, I told you about my family, what about yours?”

Fair was fair, after all, “Dad’s a salesman, and Mom is a chef at a fancy restaurant,” Misha thought for a moment, “I guess that’s where I get my love of fancy food.”

“Any siblings-er, brothers or sisters?”

“I have an older brother, but we don’t talk. He moved to Russia and we haven’t heard from him in years,” Misha looked at her empty food basket, “he was the first to call me Misha…”

“Sorry,” Lynda said. Misha nodded and looked up from her basket. Lynda flashed a quick sympathetic smile before pulling out her cell phone to check the time, “we better get going, the movie will start in a bit, and I want to show you the way decently, not just lead you. That way you can find your way back without getting lost.”

Misha nodded, doing her best to physically shake the bad memories from her mind as the two got up and made their way outside. The route led them to another dormitory building, similar to Misha’s. Henry’s room was on the third floor of another white hallway, and Lynda knocked loudly, “it’s the RA, dorm check!”

“Very funny, Lynda,” Henry yelled back. The door opened to reveal him, holding a DVD box and wearing blue jeans and a green shirt, “hi, Misha.”

“Hi~!” Misha said, the past once again behind her as the two stepped into Henry and Will’s dorm. It looked a little like Misha’s dorm, but it was bigger, with a small living room between the bedrooms and bathroom. The living room had a small brown couch against the back wall’s window, across from a TV with a bunch of consoles and devices plugged into it. The walls were again white, their monotony broken by a large Gears of War poster on the right wall. A refrigerator and microwave sat to the left of the couch, and to the right a purple and blue sleeping bag was tucked into a corner.

“Oh, they're here,” Will said, appearing from the bathroom, “Hello.”

Misha and Lynda said a quick hello to Will, after which Henry spoke up again.

“Now that we’re all here, you two make yourselves at home. I’ll put the movie in when the popcorn is made. You two want anything to drink?”

“Beer me,” Lynda said, plopping down on the floor in front of the couch and leaning back slightly.

“Uh…” Henry turned to Misha and quickly asked in her language, “you won’t tell on us, will you? None of us can legally drink yet in this country.”

“I won’t say anything, as long as I can have one~,” Misha said with a grin.

“If you’re gonna give her one,” Will said as he made the popcorn, “give her a real beer, and not that horse piss from St. Louis.”

“I like those beers,” Henry said, sighing lightly as he opened the fridge and pulled out four brown glass bottles of beer. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a keychain with a bottle opener on it and deftly opened the bottles before passing them out. Misha noticed he was more reluctant to give one to Lynda, but she said something about being on a half dose, so he sighed again and handed her one of the bottles.

Misha sipped the beer cautiously. It tasted…different. It was a bit bitter, but not too bad, she decided. Looking around the room, she noticed Lynda patting the floor space next to her, “you can sit by me, if you want.”

Misha nodded and took her seat, since there wasn’t really anywhere else to sit. After that and the handing out of popcorn in Styrofoam bowls, Henry put in the movie and took his place on the couch behind Lynda, with Will behind Misha, the two far enough apart so that their legs didn’t get close to the two on the floor. Misha examined the box cover sitting on top of the DVD player: Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope.

Misha enjoyed the movie, even if she had some trouble at some points; it was interesting to compare the original language to the dub version she was used to, at least. Lynda had gotten up at one point to get more beers, which Will and Misha had declined. Lynda placed the extra beers next to her, but Henry kept nudging her with his foot until she put them back. After the second beer she spent most of the rest of the movie leaning against Misha. Misha tensed at the proximity, but she found the body warmth relaxing. Seeing Lynda was barely conscious, Henry didn’t bother to move her. Misha wasn’t sure how she felt about Lynda’s willingness to get close so soon after meeting her, but she definitely didn’t hate it.

+++

Next Chapter

Hmm… I’m not thrilled with what I have, but if you rewrite something enough times you only end up making it worse.

[bradpara]

Very good actually

[Hoitash]

Very good actually

Thanks , I appreciate knowing the effort was worth it.

[Hoitash]

I’m guessing here on the Kimmel’s layout, because I couldn’t find any images of its inside. Cept for the roof- niiiice.

Short first section is short, I know. I’ve never actually written slice of life before- well, not well, at least.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Seven: Red Pill, Blue Pill Pick One Already


She wanted to be here. She needed to be here. She was here, and that was that. Sitting in a large comfy chair, across from a counselor sitting in a similar chair with a pen and some paper in her lap, no matter how much she wondered if it was a bad idea. The counselor’s office had been surprisingly inviting, painted a calming light blue with several potted plants scattered around. A metal desk and chair with a computer on it and a stack of papers sat in one corner. The counselor herself seemed young for the job, with short black hair and bright hazel eyes.

“So, where would you like to start?” the Counselor asked, her eyes warm, inviting, and, most important, nonjudgmental.

Misha thought for a moment, and before she could stop herself she started from the real beginning of her problems.

“…When I was in middle school, I kissed my friend on the cheek- I don’t even remember why now- near the mouth, and she over-reacted, wouldn’t talk to me or let me explain it to her~. School rumors started passing around, and my friends started drifting apart from me. I wanted to tell them it meant nothing, but kissing her felt… nice… I tried to ignore it and get on with my life when I went to high school, but I fell in love with my best friend. I told her, and she rejected me…”

Misha paused for a while, the Counselor waiting patiently for her to continue. Slowly, she reviewed what happened between her and Shizune, and then paused again when Hisao had started seeing Shizune.

“… We managed to stay friends, but it still hurts, having been… used, all that time. I know she regrets it, and she is a good friend, but…” Misha sighed, “I spent months living a lie for so long, pretending to be someone I wasn’t. After that, I’m not sure who I am anymore.”

Worn out and upset, Misha slumped into her chair, “why did I just tell you all that~?”

“Well,” the Counselor said, smiling, “it sounds like you needed to tell someone all this,” she shrugged, “I just happened to be here when you decided to let it out.”

That made sense, “not even Shizune and Hisao know everything… I feel lost, here, isolated from home and family.”

“Well, the key there is to get involved and avoid being isolated.”

Misha nodded, “I am~.”

The Counselor smiled, “good. See, you’re making progress into finding out who you are already.”

Misha smiled at that; maybe she wasn’t as lost as she thought.

==

Never before had a building looked more imposing and more welcome at the same time. The nearly nine story Kimmel Center for University Life, looking much like the rest of the university buildings- beige concrete and lots of windows, though the roof was mostly glass- loomed before Misha, waiting for her to decide if she was ready for such a step forward in discovering who she was. She probably wasn’t, although during a counseling session her counselor had suggested it was certainly worth considering. The implied confidence in her strength and resolve had made up her mind. Breathing in and out slowly, Misha stepped into the building.

Misha paused inside near the door to examine the halls, information center, and lounge areas that made up the ground floor. The building’s floors seemed higher and bigger then most of the buildings on campus, giving Misha an impression of open-ness. Checking a list on the black counter of the information center, Misha stepped down a nearby hall to the elevators to where the LGBTQ meeting was taking place.

The halls were well lit, open and inviting, like the rest of the building. The large windows allowed plenty of natural light to filter in, mixing with the artificial light inside and creating an oddly calming sensation. For once, the walls weren’t white, but a light beige, and the doors that dotted the halls matched the walls and ceiling. Finding the correct door, Misha once again hesitated. Wondering dimly if this was how Hanako felt all the time, she opened the door and stepped in.

The room was large and open, like the rest of the building, with two large windows taking up the back wall. A fake wood desk on wheels was set in a corner on the far left. Covering it were plates, napkins, a pot of coffee, a pot of hot water, a box of Lipton tea bags, Styrofoam cups, sugar packets, creamer packets, a stack of energy drinks, and a plate of several different kinds of cookies. Taking up the center of the room was a large circle of cheap folding tables, none of them matching more than a few of its fellows. Apparently scavenged from across the campus, the black, purple, white, dark brown, and beige chairs sat mostly empty; most of the assembled students were standing in small groups around the room, apparently already familiar with each other, or just naturally friendly. A few students sat or stood alone, one in particular catching Misha’s attention. A short young woman with short blond hair, Misha recognized her from her essay writing class as she hovered around the food and drinks, selecting an energy drink and placing several snickerdoodles on a napkin before taking a seat.

Seeing a familiar face, no matter how vaguely familiar, helped Misha relax a little. The only familiar face around, Misha sat next to her and began observing the students as they started to take the seats. The people’s normalcy slowly reassured her, allowing her to relax and acclimate to her surroundings. These people were like her, after all. The smell of cookies helped, too- it was impossible to be stressed with the scent of cookies drifting around.

After a few more minutes the apparent leader of the group spoke up. A young man with short brown hair and round glasses, he wore blue jeans and a yellow T-shirt.

“Okay, welcome to our first meeting of the semester. I see enough new faces here that I should probably start from the top,” he cleared his throat lightly, and continued, “this meeting is to help everyone get to know each other and familiarize themselves with the organization and what it does and how it works. We also have hand-outs for group events, both on and off campus. All that’s online, as well. So, let’s start by getting to know each other; we’ll just go around the room and introduce ourselves. Your name, your major, a few facts about you, nothing serious- if you don’t want to say anything, just raise your hand when we get to you and we’ll move on We know how stressful these first meetings can be.”

And around the room they went. The girl from Misha’s class was named Kelly, and her major was computer science. She seemed a bit nervous when she spoke, and she never looked anyone in the eyes, instead looking somewhere around there left or right shoulder. Seeing other people as nervous as she was, if not more so, helped ease away the last of Misha’s anxiety, and helped her conclude coming to the meeting was a good idea. After the quick round of introductions the group leader, Fred, rattled off a list of upcoming events and details about how to sign up and what the events entailed. A few caught Misha’s attention, and she made sure to check them off the flyer that had been handed out during the introductions with her pink pen. He also said students were welcome to meet in the Center in groups or on their own, and mentioned a few of the building’s amenities, including a library and a large garden on the roof.

After he concluded, the meeting was almost over, so Fred told everyone to mingle and grab the food, because he didn’t want to take it home with him. Deciding a small storage of cookies would be good for the dorm, Misha carefully wrapped a few cookies in a napkin and grabbed a cup of tea. As she made her tea she noticed Kelly grabbing a few cookies and another energy drink, though she didn’t open it.

“Hi, Kelly,” Misha said, deciding she should talk to someone, and what better common ground than food?

“Hi, Misha,” Kelly said, her eyes not moving from her cookies. Being closer to her, Misha noticed she wore a silver necklace with a cross on it. She also had another one that depicted a male figure, but Misha didn’t recognize it.

“You have nice necklaces~,” Misha said, angling for a conversation. Slowly realizing the second necklace portrayed one saint or another, she added, “which saint is that?”

Kelly smiled, “It’s Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travelers. He watches over those on journeys and roads, and bears their burdens, for he has taken the burdens of the world upon his shoulders.”

Misha digested that for a second, “If you’re traveling, where are you from?”

“Boston,” Kelly said. Misha had no idea where that was, but she’d find out, “at least, I was…” Kelly trailed off, looking downcast. Not sure what else to say, Misha said she’d see her in class, which made Kelly raise an eyebrow before realization set in her face.

“Oh, the essay writing, right. See you then,” Misha turned to leave when Kelly spoke again, “uh, English isn’t your first language, is it?”

“Nope~, it’s my third!” Misha said, smiling widely. Kelly raised her eyebrow again but continued, “well, if you ever want help with anything in class, just let me know afterwards, and we can meet here to study, okay?”

Misha nodded, “sure sure~,” Misha said a quick goodbye and left the room, which was mostly empty by that point anyway. Checking her cell phone for the time, Misha realized it would be dark out soon. Deciding something, she took the elevator to the roof.

Misha gasped when she entered the roof. The vast glass top of the building surrounded her, and before her lay trees and plants arrayed in raised plots. Wood and iron benches dotted the scene, as did small groups of students or lone ones, talking, reading or looking out to the city. Noticing the sun on the verge of entering evening, Misha decided to view the city around her as the light was still strong, ignoring the slight vertigo the height gave her. She couldn’t see much before taller buildings obstructed her view, but she still saw plenty. The scope of the city still astounded her; she had looked at a map of the city once online, and the realization that it took up five counties had shocked her. She wasn’t surprised that it was the largest city in America. What had surprised her was the diversity of it.

Somewhere out there, maybe, she could find out who she really was. At least she had a chance, a fresh start. Something she intended to take full advantage of, no matter how much doubt she had.


+++

Next Chapter

…I really want a cookie now.

Free food seems to be a staple of on-campus events. I doubt I’m the only college student to attend something just for the food.

[griffon8]

Excellent! More Misha goodness.

I would be surprised if anything started happening between Kelly and Misha, but everyone needs friends who understand what you're going through.

Chapter Six: Dinner and a Movie

“Oh, there here,” Will said, appearing from the bathroom, “hello.”

“Oh, they're here,” Will said, appearing from the bathroom. “Hello.”