Akira Pseudo-Route [Complete!]
- Thanatos02
- Posts: 150
- Joined: Mon Oct 15, 2012 5:52 pm
Akira Pseudo-Route [Complete!]
First and foremost, an introduction is in order, since this is my first time coming to these forums. My name is Thanatos02, or just Thanatos. Usually I'm found on a certain imageboard in their Katawa Shoujo general threads, but I decided I'd drop by here and see what things are like on the other end of the pond. Basically, most of my previous writing has been of the fap-fiction variety. I am not an acclaimed or established writer by any means, and in fact the first real piece of writing I ever put out was a story about a loud pink-haired bi-curious girl grinding on the lap of a socially retarded high schooler with a heart problem. So yeah, take that however you want. My pastebin is at http://pastebin.com/u/thanatos02 just in case you feel like subjecting to yourself to my earlier, lewder works, although advertising for my past stuff is not what I've come to the Renai to do.
My objective here is to, first and foremost, tell an entertaining story. I doubt I'll be able to get the kind of emotional response that the canon stories have managed to warrant, but that's fine with me. I was voted as the class clown in my graduating class, so I've always felt more comfortable in making people laugh rather than anything else. My other goal is to become a better writer, and I've been prepared to undertake the acts that entails without any objection. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated in all of its forms, although I'm not one to turn down insults and compliments even if I may disagree with them from time to time.
Now that I'm done talking about myself, here's onto the thing you're probably here for.
Overview:
The Akira Pseudoroute is an attempt to create a path for Akira Satou, Lilly Satou's older sister. Rather than going the way of the original routes and the other pseudoroutes, I've decided to try something different and have this story branch off of an alternate ending to the Kenji Ending, or Manly Picnic from the official game. Rather than fall from the roof to his untimely death, Hisao is knocked off balance trying to evade Kenji's grab/grapple/attempted fondle and falls on his back, going to sleep on the roof in a whiskey-induced stupor. In this alternate reality Akira Satou becomes the main heroine of the story, joining Hisao as he pulls away from his stagnant lifestyle.
Why Akira?
Akira, while not initially my favorite girl, was quick to interest me as a reader; even so many years back when I first saw her in the act 1 demo. The many impressions I got from her character spiraled into numerous ideas and interpretations, all of which eventually wove into a story I found myself wanting to write. Granted, she isn't a "Katawa Shoujo" so it doesn't really fit into the original theme very well, but something about it all really drew me in. The idea wasn't very well-planned initially, since the concept of an Akira route as a whole was something I'd have thought impossible until one night during a bout of writer's block, I woke up at 3 in the morning with tons of plans and concepts screaming through my head. Since then, it's taken a lot of re-writes and outside input/influence to shape the Akira route into what it is today, and I'm thankful that I've had the opportunity to write all of this.
Okay, that's cool, but why an entire pseudo-route?!
My original "style" consisted of numerous chapters interlinked by a couple of kinda-sorta common elements, which laid the foundation for a continuity among the parts. That kind of a mechanic doesn't work for larger stories, however, which is what I've found myself wanting to write for quite a while. I'd had ideas for some Akira stories before, but none of them were really of a grand scale like this. I'm not going to lie and say I wasn't a little bit influenced and even tempted by the fame of other stories such as the Suzu, Miki, Saki, and Rika routes; but in reality I felt like my writing had never really covered much. Save for the multi-part fics I wrote; each story was self-contained. They took advantage of openings and ambiguities in the official story's plot, and were really only set up to make for cute little adventures, which most of the time resulted in sex. Long answer short: I wanted to take on something that felt a lot bigger than what I was used to, that and writing nothing but sex scenes gets really boring after a while.
But anyway, that's enough of my rambling. HERE'S the thing everyone is probably here for.
Also, I fully encourage and appreciate fanart of Akira and of the scenes depicted in this story. I've seen some nice things already, and there's nothing that warms my heart more than knowing that something I've written has compelled someone to take an hour out of their life to sit down and draw something for it.
Theme of Akira Pseudo-route (Thanks to Crimson!)
https://soundcloud.com/crimson-harmony/acceleration
Title page by Honitsu oh my god he's amazing!
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Act 2: White Wine
-- Part 1: A New Beginning P.1 P.2
-- Part 2: Gathering Intel P.1 P.2
-- Part 3: Black Coffee P.1 P.2
-- Part 4: A Spark Ignited P.1 P.2 P.3
-- Part 5: Great Expectations P.1 P.2
-- Part 6: Public Relations P.1 P.2
-- Part 7: Wrong Place at the Right Time P.1 P.2 P.3
-- Part 8: Intoxication P.1 P.2 P.3
Act 3: Shaken
-- Part 1: Insight P.1 P.2
-- Part 2: Progress P.1 P.2
-- Part 3: Silent Comedy P.1 P.2
-- Part 4: Kicking off P.1
-- Part 5: Qualifications P.1 P.2
-- Part 6: Deus Ex P.1
-- Part 7: Bad Company P.1 P.2
-- Part 8: Chains P.1
Act 4: Highball
-- Part 1: It's Never Just Rain P.1
-- Part 2: On The Rocks P.1
-- Part 3: Retrospective P.1
-- Part 4: Web P.1
-- Part 5: Imbalance P.1
-- Part 6: Crisis P.1
-- Part 7: Battle Phase P.1
-- Part 8: Shatter P.1
-- Part 9: Remnants P.1
--- Intermission: Bridging the Gap P.1
Act 5: Chaser
-- Part 1: Come Fly With Me P.1
-- Part 2: Just The Way You Are P.1 P.2 P.3
-- Part 3 - The Good Life P.1
-- Part 4 - That's Life P.1
-- Part 5 - My Way P.1
-- Part 6 - The Way You Look Tonight P.1
-- Part 7 - Under My Skin P.1
-- Part 8 - Sway P.1
-- Part 9 - Cheek to Cheek P.1 P.2
-- Part 10 Finale - Fly Me To The Moon P.1
My objective here is to, first and foremost, tell an entertaining story. I doubt I'll be able to get the kind of emotional response that the canon stories have managed to warrant, but that's fine with me. I was voted as the class clown in my graduating class, so I've always felt more comfortable in making people laugh rather than anything else. My other goal is to become a better writer, and I've been prepared to undertake the acts that entails without any objection. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated in all of its forms, although I'm not one to turn down insults and compliments even if I may disagree with them from time to time.
Now that I'm done talking about myself, here's onto the thing you're probably here for.
Overview:
The Akira Pseudoroute is an attempt to create a path for Akira Satou, Lilly Satou's older sister. Rather than going the way of the original routes and the other pseudoroutes, I've decided to try something different and have this story branch off of an alternate ending to the Kenji Ending, or Manly Picnic from the official game. Rather than fall from the roof to his untimely death, Hisao is knocked off balance trying to evade Kenji's grab/grapple/attempted fondle and falls on his back, going to sleep on the roof in a whiskey-induced stupor. In this alternate reality Akira Satou becomes the main heroine of the story, joining Hisao as he pulls away from his stagnant lifestyle.
Why Akira?
Akira, while not initially my favorite girl, was quick to interest me as a reader; even so many years back when I first saw her in the act 1 demo. The many impressions I got from her character spiraled into numerous ideas and interpretations, all of which eventually wove into a story I found myself wanting to write. Granted, she isn't a "Katawa Shoujo" so it doesn't really fit into the original theme very well, but something about it all really drew me in. The idea wasn't very well-planned initially, since the concept of an Akira route as a whole was something I'd have thought impossible until one night during a bout of writer's block, I woke up at 3 in the morning with tons of plans and concepts screaming through my head. Since then, it's taken a lot of re-writes and outside input/influence to shape the Akira route into what it is today, and I'm thankful that I've had the opportunity to write all of this.
Okay, that's cool, but why an entire pseudo-route?!
My original "style" consisted of numerous chapters interlinked by a couple of kinda-sorta common elements, which laid the foundation for a continuity among the parts. That kind of a mechanic doesn't work for larger stories, however, which is what I've found myself wanting to write for quite a while. I'd had ideas for some Akira stories before, but none of them were really of a grand scale like this. I'm not going to lie and say I wasn't a little bit influenced and even tempted by the fame of other stories such as the Suzu, Miki, Saki, and Rika routes; but in reality I felt like my writing had never really covered much. Save for the multi-part fics I wrote; each story was self-contained. They took advantage of openings and ambiguities in the official story's plot, and were really only set up to make for cute little adventures, which most of the time resulted in sex. Long answer short: I wanted to take on something that felt a lot bigger than what I was used to, that and writing nothing but sex scenes gets really boring after a while.
But anyway, that's enough of my rambling. HERE'S the thing everyone is probably here for.
Also, I fully encourage and appreciate fanart of Akira and of the scenes depicted in this story. I've seen some nice things already, and there's nothing that warms my heart more than knowing that something I've written has compelled someone to take an hour out of their life to sit down and draw something for it.
Theme of Akira Pseudo-route (Thanks to Crimson!)
https://soundcloud.com/crimson-harmony/acceleration
Title page by Honitsu oh my god he's amazing!
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Act 2: White Wine
-- Part 1: A New Beginning P.1 P.2
-- Part 2: Gathering Intel P.1 P.2
-- Part 3: Black Coffee P.1 P.2
-- Part 4: A Spark Ignited P.1 P.2 P.3
-- Part 5: Great Expectations P.1 P.2
-- Part 6: Public Relations P.1 P.2
-- Part 7: Wrong Place at the Right Time P.1 P.2 P.3
-- Part 8: Intoxication P.1 P.2 P.3
Act 3: Shaken
-- Part 1: Insight P.1 P.2
-- Part 2: Progress P.1 P.2
-- Part 3: Silent Comedy P.1 P.2
-- Part 4: Kicking off P.1
-- Part 5: Qualifications P.1 P.2
-- Part 6: Deus Ex P.1
-- Part 7: Bad Company P.1 P.2
-- Part 8: Chains P.1
Act 4: Highball
-- Part 1: It's Never Just Rain P.1
-- Part 2: On The Rocks P.1
-- Part 3: Retrospective P.1
-- Part 4: Web P.1
-- Part 5: Imbalance P.1
-- Part 6: Crisis P.1
-- Part 7: Battle Phase P.1
-- Part 8: Shatter P.1
-- Part 9: Remnants P.1
--- Intermission: Bridging the Gap P.1
Act 5: Chaser
-- Part 1: Come Fly With Me P.1
-- Part 2: Just The Way You Are P.1 P.2 P.3
-- Part 3 - The Good Life P.1
-- Part 4 - That's Life P.1
-- Part 5 - My Way P.1
-- Part 6 - The Way You Look Tonight P.1
-- Part 7 - Under My Skin P.1
-- Part 8 - Sway P.1
-- Part 9 - Cheek to Cheek P.1 P.2
-- Part 10 Finale - Fly Me To The Moon P.1
Last edited by Thanatos02 on Wed Nov 19, 2014 8:59 am, edited 71 times in total.
- Thanatos02
- Posts: 150
- Joined: Mon Oct 15, 2012 5:52 pm
Re: Akira Pseudo-Route
Act 2 - Part 1-1: A New Beginning
Why did I have to sit next to the window?
I don't even remember most of what happened yesterday. I woke up around noon because of the festival outside and moped around looking for something to do. Then I ran into Kenji, he wanted someone to hang out with, so I decided to go with him, against my better judgment.
Then there was a bottle of Jack involved. Not sure how he got it, or where it came from, but I didn't say no when he offered to share. The rest of it is the hazy part. I remember something about a manly picnic, and then Kenji tried hugging me or something. There was a piece of broken fence behind me, that stands out in my memory for some reason, so I think I hobbled out of the way and fell over on my back.
Now, I'm sitting in science class, unable to pay attention as my brain revolts against its mortal coil, pulsating against my skull as if it were a cage. It doesn't help that my eyes feel like they're being squeezed by my own eyelids.
“Hisao, would you like to read the next paragraph?” Mutou calls out, having sensed my lack of focus on his lecture.
Crap, here we go.
My throbbing eyes scramble about the text in the book in front of me, looking for even a semblance of a clue as to where we could have been. All I can do is take a random guess, so...
“The second law of thermodynamics states that in general the total entropy of any system will not decrease other than by-”
“Where are you reading? We're on page 381, six chapters behind thermodynamics.”
Flip the page flip the page flip the page flip the page...
“A substance may dissociate without necessarily producing ions. As an example, the molecules of table sugar dissociate-”
“Keep trying, you're getting warmer.” Mutou interupts.
“In general, ionization can be broken down into two types: sequential ionization and-”
“Too far back.”
“I give up.”
“At least you tried. Try to pay attention in chemistry. It would be a shame if we got to the next unit and had a couple of students leftover who still didn't understand this stuff.”
The next victim is called, a girl named Miki Miura, who fumbles around just the same before correctly guessing the right spot and reading from there.
It's been a week since I got here. I barely know the name of anyone here, and I haven't really socialized with anyone other than Misha, and by extension, Shizune. I guess Kenji counts, although as much as it pains me to say this; I wish he didn't.
Maybe I should have joined a club? There was a literature club, an art club, even a light music club I'm sure I could have tire-ironed my way into. Student council at the very least would have given me something to do, and two girls to talk to.
I'm barely given enough time to fall deeper into depression before the bell rings. I gather my books and decide to head off to lunch on my own, having already been dismissed by Shizune and Misha as they set out on their council duties.
However, I'm only able to make it one step past the teacher's desk before I'm called back.
“Hisao, were there any problems today? You seemed pretty out of it.”
Well, besides being hungover on half a bottle of whiskey, everything seems to be okay.
“I'm just tired. I wasn't able to get a whole lot of sleep after the festival.”
“That's it? Really? I was worried for a second there.” Mutou responds, his demeanor changing from worried to relieved.
“Did you enjoy the festival?” he continues.
“It was...okay. I didn't really do much.” I respond.
“Well at least you got out of your room and had some fun. I'm sorry if it seems like I'm cracking open a can of worms here, but you've seemed pretty depressed ever since you got here. I'm glad to see you're trying to fit in.”
Yeah, trying to fit in. That's definitely what I'm doing. Running away from the girls who want me to be in their group, refusing to push myself to get healthy and at least get a foot up on this disease, and ignoring every chance I've gotten to be friends with someone.
“I don't think that's the case.” I reply, reeling back as I realize that my subconscious just vocalized.
“What do you mean?” Mutou asks.
Oh geez. Here we go.
“I haven't really gotten to know anyone past introductions. I feel like I'm not welcome here, somehow."
"I just don't know what I'm doing, what I should be doing, or anything like that.” I confess.
It hurts to say, but it's true, at any rate. I haven't been doing much of anything, besides keeping up with schoolwork. And that's all I'm good for at this point.
“That is a problem, hmm...” Mutou replies, scratching his chin in thought.
“I'm not sure if I can give you any advice that you haven't already heard or thought of yourself -- I'm a science teacher, not a counselor.”
Yeah, that's what I thought.
“If you want something to do though, you can fill in for a colleague of mine. Mr. Clarke, the head of the science department here, and I normally go to a small symposium in the city. He had some business to take care of back home, so his seat will be empty. And, well...it wouldn't cost you anything to go in his stead.”
“I suppose it's something to get my mind off everything. I'll think about it.” I answer, with a bit of reluctance.
“That's what I like to hear. I'm going to try to leave from here at 7 A.M on Saturday, is that good with you?"
I nod my head.
"It shouldn't be very crowded, only a thousand or so people. Oh, and there's a dress code for the lecture I want to attend, do you have something nice to wear?”
"Something nice? How nice? The only formal wear I thought to bring with me was a pair of slacks and a dress shirt. I made sure to bring that sweater vest I got for Christmas last year as well."
He winces at the sound of the words 'sweater vest' for some odd reason.
"Well, this is a pretty high class event, so a suit is advisable. Not a tuxedo though, that's a little too much."
"What if I don't have a suit?" I ask.
It's the truth. I don't have a suit. I've never really done anything that warranted me having to dress up in something that nice.
"Every good man deserves a suit. I think this would be a great time for you to go out and buy one!"
And how much is that going to cost? They get pretty expensive, from what I've heard. It's on Saturday, so I won't be able to borrow one from my Dad. And then there's the matter of the fact that I don't know any guys here well enough to just pop up and ask to borrow their expensive formal wear.
"Trust me, a nice suit goes a long way when you're eighteen." he adds on upon hearing my distressed sigh.
"Alright, will do." I answer, unable to think of anything else to add to the conversation.
At this point, Mutou starts shuffling the stack of papers into his briefcase with a new-found fervor, giving me an invigorated wave as I step out the door.
Well, I guess now I'm going to a science symposium with Mutou.
Science has always been my strong point, more on the chemistry side than anything, but all science is good to me. I've never really shown an interest in it though. At the very least; it gives me something to do. Maybe I'll find what I want to do with my life while I'm there.
My mind flutters back and forth between ideas as I try to decide what to do for lunch. Or what not to do for lunch, rather, since I still feel a little sick from last night. Some fresh air would be better at this point, so the roof seems like the best plan of action.
I round the corner and make my way to the end of the hall, into the stairwell, following the path I've already imprinted in my mind. It only takes a few flights of stairs to carry me to my destination, a land of fresh air and sunl-
Agh, my eyes.
I wince as the natural light of the cosmos overwhelms my sight, having to shield my face as I step out onto the expanse of the school roof.
A deep breath of air fills my lungs, helping clear my head enough to realize that there's still a mound of blankets on the other end of the building.
It's not that I want to make sure Kenji gets them, but knowing my luck; it's likely that the school would link the empty bottle of whiskey back to us somehow. I step over to pick up the blanket, only to notice that there's something weighing it down.
“Don't tell me...”
A sharp tug to the 'picnic' cloth causes a stir, and then a loud yell.
“DON'T TAKE MY COCOON, ASSHOLE!”
“Kenji, what the hell are you still doing up here?”
“YOU BETTER RUN, I KNOW JUJ- whoa what are you doing in my room?”
I'm glad to know that I woke up a lot better off than Kenji. It's roughly noon, meaning he's missed all of his morning classes – not that I think he cares much about that. He's also sunburned on his forehead, thanks to the patch of skin that was hanging out of the blanket.
“You're still on the roof.”
He gives a light chuckle before adjusting his glasses and looking around.
“This is all within acceptable parameters.” he answers.
“We got completely hammered last night. You're waking up on the school roof at almost one in the afternoon.”
“Acceptable parameters.” he repeats.
“Parameters for what?” I ask, knowing full well what happens when I ask questions like this.
“You think that's the first time I've gotten drunk? At least the school roof is safe. No one comes up here. You should have been there when I woke up in front of that crazy music store in town. I'm still amazed that I didn't get mugged or...kidnapped by feminists or...something.”
This is a normal thing for Kenji? As in, every week he breaks out a bottle of aged liquor and goes nuts? Does he always do it alone or are there others? I doubt he downs an entire bottle of alcohol by himself. Maybe he has a hidden list of companions, and I just happened to be his target for the week.
I wonder who the others could be.
“That sounds...adventurous.” I comment.
“Naw, man. I'm not an adventurer. I'm like some kind of messiah. Preaching the evils of female supremacism. Spreading the word about the feminist menace.”
“The femenace. I'm gonna use that from now on.”
In a surprising act of athleticism: he rolls back, pushes off with his hands, and lands flat on his feet; brushing the dust off of his school jacket as if to boast 'hangover? What hangover?'
“But whatever, dude. I'm gonna go ahead and go, I got stuff to meet, places to do, people to go, that kind of thing.”
He bends over and scoops up his picnic blanket, leaving the empty bottle of whiskey on the ground; a caramel-colored monolith standing over the plain gray concrete expanse. It's artistic, in a way.
“And remember man, there's these charts you need to see.”
With that last final comment, he disappears into the stairwell, only an aura of confusion left to signify that he was ever here.
Why did I have to sit next to the window?
I don't even remember most of what happened yesterday. I woke up around noon because of the festival outside and moped around looking for something to do. Then I ran into Kenji, he wanted someone to hang out with, so I decided to go with him, against my better judgment.
Then there was a bottle of Jack involved. Not sure how he got it, or where it came from, but I didn't say no when he offered to share. The rest of it is the hazy part. I remember something about a manly picnic, and then Kenji tried hugging me or something. There was a piece of broken fence behind me, that stands out in my memory for some reason, so I think I hobbled out of the way and fell over on my back.
Now, I'm sitting in science class, unable to pay attention as my brain revolts against its mortal coil, pulsating against my skull as if it were a cage. It doesn't help that my eyes feel like they're being squeezed by my own eyelids.
“Hisao, would you like to read the next paragraph?” Mutou calls out, having sensed my lack of focus on his lecture.
Crap, here we go.
My throbbing eyes scramble about the text in the book in front of me, looking for even a semblance of a clue as to where we could have been. All I can do is take a random guess, so...
“The second law of thermodynamics states that in general the total entropy of any system will not decrease other than by-”
“Where are you reading? We're on page 381, six chapters behind thermodynamics.”
Flip the page flip the page flip the page flip the page...
“A substance may dissociate without necessarily producing ions. As an example, the molecules of table sugar dissociate-”
“Keep trying, you're getting warmer.” Mutou interupts.
“In general, ionization can be broken down into two types: sequential ionization and-”
“Too far back.”
“I give up.”
“At least you tried. Try to pay attention in chemistry. It would be a shame if we got to the next unit and had a couple of students leftover who still didn't understand this stuff.”
The next victim is called, a girl named Miki Miura, who fumbles around just the same before correctly guessing the right spot and reading from there.
It's been a week since I got here. I barely know the name of anyone here, and I haven't really socialized with anyone other than Misha, and by extension, Shizune. I guess Kenji counts, although as much as it pains me to say this; I wish he didn't.
Maybe I should have joined a club? There was a literature club, an art club, even a light music club I'm sure I could have tire-ironed my way into. Student council at the very least would have given me something to do, and two girls to talk to.
I'm barely given enough time to fall deeper into depression before the bell rings. I gather my books and decide to head off to lunch on my own, having already been dismissed by Shizune and Misha as they set out on their council duties.
However, I'm only able to make it one step past the teacher's desk before I'm called back.
“Hisao, were there any problems today? You seemed pretty out of it.”
Well, besides being hungover on half a bottle of whiskey, everything seems to be okay.
“I'm just tired. I wasn't able to get a whole lot of sleep after the festival.”
“That's it? Really? I was worried for a second there.” Mutou responds, his demeanor changing from worried to relieved.
“Did you enjoy the festival?” he continues.
“It was...okay. I didn't really do much.” I respond.
“Well at least you got out of your room and had some fun. I'm sorry if it seems like I'm cracking open a can of worms here, but you've seemed pretty depressed ever since you got here. I'm glad to see you're trying to fit in.”
Yeah, trying to fit in. That's definitely what I'm doing. Running away from the girls who want me to be in their group, refusing to push myself to get healthy and at least get a foot up on this disease, and ignoring every chance I've gotten to be friends with someone.
“I don't think that's the case.” I reply, reeling back as I realize that my subconscious just vocalized.
“What do you mean?” Mutou asks.
Oh geez. Here we go.
“I haven't really gotten to know anyone past introductions. I feel like I'm not welcome here, somehow."
"I just don't know what I'm doing, what I should be doing, or anything like that.” I confess.
It hurts to say, but it's true, at any rate. I haven't been doing much of anything, besides keeping up with schoolwork. And that's all I'm good for at this point.
“That is a problem, hmm...” Mutou replies, scratching his chin in thought.
“I'm not sure if I can give you any advice that you haven't already heard or thought of yourself -- I'm a science teacher, not a counselor.”
Yeah, that's what I thought.
“If you want something to do though, you can fill in for a colleague of mine. Mr. Clarke, the head of the science department here, and I normally go to a small symposium in the city. He had some business to take care of back home, so his seat will be empty. And, well...it wouldn't cost you anything to go in his stead.”
“I suppose it's something to get my mind off everything. I'll think about it.” I answer, with a bit of reluctance.
“That's what I like to hear. I'm going to try to leave from here at 7 A.M on Saturday, is that good with you?"
I nod my head.
"It shouldn't be very crowded, only a thousand or so people. Oh, and there's a dress code for the lecture I want to attend, do you have something nice to wear?”
"Something nice? How nice? The only formal wear I thought to bring with me was a pair of slacks and a dress shirt. I made sure to bring that sweater vest I got for Christmas last year as well."
He winces at the sound of the words 'sweater vest' for some odd reason.
"Well, this is a pretty high class event, so a suit is advisable. Not a tuxedo though, that's a little too much."
"What if I don't have a suit?" I ask.
It's the truth. I don't have a suit. I've never really done anything that warranted me having to dress up in something that nice.
"Every good man deserves a suit. I think this would be a great time for you to go out and buy one!"
And how much is that going to cost? They get pretty expensive, from what I've heard. It's on Saturday, so I won't be able to borrow one from my Dad. And then there's the matter of the fact that I don't know any guys here well enough to just pop up and ask to borrow their expensive formal wear.
"Trust me, a nice suit goes a long way when you're eighteen." he adds on upon hearing my distressed sigh.
"Alright, will do." I answer, unable to think of anything else to add to the conversation.
At this point, Mutou starts shuffling the stack of papers into his briefcase with a new-found fervor, giving me an invigorated wave as I step out the door.
Well, I guess now I'm going to a science symposium with Mutou.
Science has always been my strong point, more on the chemistry side than anything, but all science is good to me. I've never really shown an interest in it though. At the very least; it gives me something to do. Maybe I'll find what I want to do with my life while I'm there.
My mind flutters back and forth between ideas as I try to decide what to do for lunch. Or what not to do for lunch, rather, since I still feel a little sick from last night. Some fresh air would be better at this point, so the roof seems like the best plan of action.
I round the corner and make my way to the end of the hall, into the stairwell, following the path I've already imprinted in my mind. It only takes a few flights of stairs to carry me to my destination, a land of fresh air and sunl-
Agh, my eyes.
I wince as the natural light of the cosmos overwhelms my sight, having to shield my face as I step out onto the expanse of the school roof.
A deep breath of air fills my lungs, helping clear my head enough to realize that there's still a mound of blankets on the other end of the building.
It's not that I want to make sure Kenji gets them, but knowing my luck; it's likely that the school would link the empty bottle of whiskey back to us somehow. I step over to pick up the blanket, only to notice that there's something weighing it down.
“Don't tell me...”
A sharp tug to the 'picnic' cloth causes a stir, and then a loud yell.
“DON'T TAKE MY COCOON, ASSHOLE!”
“Kenji, what the hell are you still doing up here?”
“YOU BETTER RUN, I KNOW JUJ- whoa what are you doing in my room?”
I'm glad to know that I woke up a lot better off than Kenji. It's roughly noon, meaning he's missed all of his morning classes – not that I think he cares much about that. He's also sunburned on his forehead, thanks to the patch of skin that was hanging out of the blanket.
“You're still on the roof.”
He gives a light chuckle before adjusting his glasses and looking around.
“This is all within acceptable parameters.” he answers.
“We got completely hammered last night. You're waking up on the school roof at almost one in the afternoon.”
“Acceptable parameters.” he repeats.
“Parameters for what?” I ask, knowing full well what happens when I ask questions like this.
“You think that's the first time I've gotten drunk? At least the school roof is safe. No one comes up here. You should have been there when I woke up in front of that crazy music store in town. I'm still amazed that I didn't get mugged or...kidnapped by feminists or...something.”
This is a normal thing for Kenji? As in, every week he breaks out a bottle of aged liquor and goes nuts? Does he always do it alone or are there others? I doubt he downs an entire bottle of alcohol by himself. Maybe he has a hidden list of companions, and I just happened to be his target for the week.
I wonder who the others could be.
“That sounds...adventurous.” I comment.
“Naw, man. I'm not an adventurer. I'm like some kind of messiah. Preaching the evils of female supremacism. Spreading the word about the feminist menace.”
“The femenace. I'm gonna use that from now on.”
In a surprising act of athleticism: he rolls back, pushes off with his hands, and lands flat on his feet; brushing the dust off of his school jacket as if to boast 'hangover? What hangover?'
“But whatever, dude. I'm gonna go ahead and go, I got stuff to meet, places to do, people to go, that kind of thing.”
He bends over and scoops up his picnic blanket, leaving the empty bottle of whiskey on the ground; a caramel-colored monolith standing over the plain gray concrete expanse. It's artistic, in a way.
“And remember man, there's these charts you need to see.”
With that last final comment, he disappears into the stairwell, only an aura of confusion left to signify that he was ever here.
Last edited by Thanatos02 on Tue Oct 23, 2012 6:25 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Re: Akira Pseudo-Route
Oh boy, I am loving this. Keep at it!
Re: Akira Pseudo-Route
Yay! I've been waiting for someone to do an Akira Route :DDDDD
Routes: Hanako>Lilly>Shizune>Rin>Kenji>Emi
Girls: Hanako>Misha>Rin>Shizune>Lilly>Emi
Girls: Hanako>Misha>Rin>Shizune>Lilly>Emi
- YourFavAnon
- Posts: 239
- Joined: Mon Jul 02, 2012 12:58 pm
Re: Akira Pseudo-Route
The erotic king has graced his presence on the renai? 'Tis indeed a great day for mankind.
I write things occasionally.
Dumps of my 35+ fics can be found here and here (including some non-KS stuff).
Dumps of my 35+ fics can be found here and here (including some non-KS stuff).
- Thanatos02
- Posts: 150
- Joined: Mon Oct 15, 2012 5:52 pm
Re: Akira Pseudo-Route
Act 2 - Part 1-2: A New Beginning
The sound of exhaust spewing into the air fills my ears as the bus takes off, carrying myself and about thirty other people into the city a couple of miles away.
I've actually been needing a suit for a while now, so this is a good thing. My parents approved as well, so I shouldn't have to go without food for a month to make up for it.
Now all that's left is the matter of finding out where I should buy it. I don't need anything of super-high quality just yet, but at the same time I don't want a suit that's so poorly made that I'll get laughed out of any formal event I ever attend.
It doesn't take as long as I was anticipating to reach the city, so any planning I was planning to do will have to happen while I'm on the run. There's three fine clothing stores here, according to some research I did before I left. Two of them are in the mall, and there's one a couple of blocks down the road from here, next to an antique shop.
Regardless of how much I may have looked at the map of this city, it's still a little different walking through it in person. And what does any sensible person do when they're walking around a city they're unfamiliar with?
“I am so lost.” I comment aloud, unable to discern anything at all from the intersection before me.
There's two roads here, 'Route 131' and 'Kanpawa Ave.' For all I know, there could just be a big wooden sign labeled 'here be dragons' and I wouldn't be any better or worse off.
The sidewalk scrolls by under my feet, and yet I feel as though I'm getting no closer to my destination. I walk past plenty of shops, apartment complexes, and other such buildings, but no fine wear stores or anything along that line.
It's not like I mind, though. I grew up exploring the city. If anything, this is a welcome change, I'm back in my own element! The smell of diesel fuel burning, the clutter-clatter of each pedestrian that passes by, the sight of the skyline...
Okay it's not the most amazing thing, but at least it's familiar.
“Zero RC, Belethor's General Goods, Patches' Pre-Owned hardware...”
Ah! There it is! 'Lyra's Fine Wear.'
The front doors have been propped open, welcoming me into the world of expensive business wear. A single counter rests in the center of the store, surrounded by rows upon rows, racks upon racks of every kind of formal clothing one could imagine. Ties of all shapes and sizes, suits of every size and make, dresses of so many colors it boggles the mind.
I wonder how much business they have to get to justify carrying this much on hand. I'm also curious about how much of it is only for display, as indicated by the absence of any kind of attendant at the front desk. In fact, the only other person here is a rather tall woman with messy blonde hair.
The front counter is relatively empty compared to the rest of the store. A measuring tape, a coffee cup filled with safety pins, and a cash register. As well as a small silver bell with a sign reading 'ring for service'
However, as soon as I reach up to 'ring for service', a voice stops me.
“Lyra's out back fixing something up for me, she'll be back in a minute or two.”
“Ah, alright.” I answer by instinct.
A few minutes pass by without incident, only the ticking of the clock there to indicate that time hasn't slowed to a standstill.
Black, pinstriped slacks, a white dress shirt with a black tie pulled snug below her collar, and a jacket thrown over her arm? Her dress style is something else. It's almost androgynous, in a way. If not for the slight curvature of her figure in all the 'right' areas and the shape of her facial features, I think anyone could mistake her for a male.
And yet for some reason I can't help but sneak a glance every chance I can. She's captivating, somehow. Neat, perfectly sized attire, and yet she walks around with her hair in a disheveled mess. Is it like that because of her job? Does she just wake up like that?
“So...what's up?”
Oh, she's talking to me.
“Nothing really, just needed a suit for something coming up.” I answer.
“Ah, that's nice. Every man needs a good suit.” she replies with a smile.
“And how about you?”
“The top button of my favorite vest popped off and I'm no good with a needle – they do repairs for free here.”
“Oh, that's good. What do you do?” I ask out of curiosity.
“Business stuff. I could start throwing crazy terminology around to try and confuse or awe you, but I'm not that pretentious." she answers, the sides of her mouth curving up into a sort of half-smile.
Well obviously she does enough to justify walking around in such high class clothing everywhere she goes. I don't think I've ever even met a woman who dresses like that.
“I assume you're still a student?” she asks, eying me up and down.
“Yeah, third year.”
"You don't look it. I guessed you were 20 when you walked in." she replies.
“That uniform seem familiar, though.” she comments, scratching her chin.
“It's a school out of the city, a couple of miles away.”
Before she can continue, the apparent owner of the store steps out of the back room and appears before us, her footsteps silent as she strides across the expensive carpet.
“I didn't have any more buttons like this, so I replaced the rest of them while I was at it. Sorry it took so long.” she states, bowing in apology.
“No no no, this is great! Thanks, Lyra!” the other woman answers.
“Thank you for coming by, Ms. Satou.” she replies, bowing again.
“No problem. I'll be back when I manage to mess it up again.” she says with a snicker, waving goodbye as she steps out the open doors.
Ms. Satou? There's a girl at my school with the same name. Lilly, I believe her name was? I might be overthinking this, it's probably just a common name.
“How may I help you, sir?”
“Ah, I need a suit for something coming up.”
“Any specifics?” she asks.
There's specifics to worry about? I thought I just got something that fit and walked out.
“Nothing special, I'm on a budget.” I answer.
“Very well.”
The woman whips a measuring tape out of her pocket and steps behind me, instructing me to stand still.
“5 feet 9 inches. 175cm.” she recites.
The measurements get finer and finer as she goes along; arm span, leg length, waist measurement, broadness of my shoulders, thickness of my neck, as well as about ten other seemingly random variables.
“I'll be right back.” she states, disappearing into the jungle of tasteful clothing.
Within the minute, she appears right behind me, almost making my heart skip a beat as she announces that she has found the perfect suit for me.
“The dressing rooms are right over there, sir.”
I take the bundle of hangers from her outstretched hand. It's nothing special, like I asked – solid black, no fancy buttons, no expensive cuffs, no sunglasses or a watch on a chain; just a plain black suit.
Her amber eyes shoot an intense stare my way as I step over and into a dressing room. A strange pressure emanating from outside the door as I change out of my school uniform and into the new...
“Wow, this fits pretty well.” I comment aloud.
From across the store, a voice announces “Perfection is my duty!” as if on cue.
Fair enough.
I hop back into my school uniform and carry the hangers to the counter, where I'm rung up in the same stiff, professional manner as everything else.
“That will be ¥------”
Alright. That's pretty fair. I guess it's nice that it only runs a few yen over the amount my parents gave me for this.
I grab my receipt, receive a wave goodbye, and step out the door, new suit in tow. All my business in the city is taken care of, but for some reason, there's one thing on my mind – who was that woman from earlier? I can't get her out of my head for some reason.
Disheveled blonde hair, ruby-red eyes, and a business suit. And yet despite all that, she wasn't the least bit intimidating or...business-like in any way. She came across as foolhardy more than anything, like she was just waiting for something exciting to happen.
I should have at least asked for her name.
Next
The sound of exhaust spewing into the air fills my ears as the bus takes off, carrying myself and about thirty other people into the city a couple of miles away.
I've actually been needing a suit for a while now, so this is a good thing. My parents approved as well, so I shouldn't have to go without food for a month to make up for it.
Now all that's left is the matter of finding out where I should buy it. I don't need anything of super-high quality just yet, but at the same time I don't want a suit that's so poorly made that I'll get laughed out of any formal event I ever attend.
It doesn't take as long as I was anticipating to reach the city, so any planning I was planning to do will have to happen while I'm on the run. There's three fine clothing stores here, according to some research I did before I left. Two of them are in the mall, and there's one a couple of blocks down the road from here, next to an antique shop.
Regardless of how much I may have looked at the map of this city, it's still a little different walking through it in person. And what does any sensible person do when they're walking around a city they're unfamiliar with?
“I am so lost.” I comment aloud, unable to discern anything at all from the intersection before me.
There's two roads here, 'Route 131' and 'Kanpawa Ave.' For all I know, there could just be a big wooden sign labeled 'here be dragons' and I wouldn't be any better or worse off.
The sidewalk scrolls by under my feet, and yet I feel as though I'm getting no closer to my destination. I walk past plenty of shops, apartment complexes, and other such buildings, but no fine wear stores or anything along that line.
It's not like I mind, though. I grew up exploring the city. If anything, this is a welcome change, I'm back in my own element! The smell of diesel fuel burning, the clutter-clatter of each pedestrian that passes by, the sight of the skyline...
Okay it's not the most amazing thing, but at least it's familiar.
“Zero RC, Belethor's General Goods, Patches' Pre-Owned hardware...”
Ah! There it is! 'Lyra's Fine Wear.'
The front doors have been propped open, welcoming me into the world of expensive business wear. A single counter rests in the center of the store, surrounded by rows upon rows, racks upon racks of every kind of formal clothing one could imagine. Ties of all shapes and sizes, suits of every size and make, dresses of so many colors it boggles the mind.
I wonder how much business they have to get to justify carrying this much on hand. I'm also curious about how much of it is only for display, as indicated by the absence of any kind of attendant at the front desk. In fact, the only other person here is a rather tall woman with messy blonde hair.
The front counter is relatively empty compared to the rest of the store. A measuring tape, a coffee cup filled with safety pins, and a cash register. As well as a small silver bell with a sign reading 'ring for service'
However, as soon as I reach up to 'ring for service', a voice stops me.
“Lyra's out back fixing something up for me, she'll be back in a minute or two.”
“Ah, alright.” I answer by instinct.
A few minutes pass by without incident, only the ticking of the clock there to indicate that time hasn't slowed to a standstill.
Black, pinstriped slacks, a white dress shirt with a black tie pulled snug below her collar, and a jacket thrown over her arm? Her dress style is something else. It's almost androgynous, in a way. If not for the slight curvature of her figure in all the 'right' areas and the shape of her facial features, I think anyone could mistake her for a male.
And yet for some reason I can't help but sneak a glance every chance I can. She's captivating, somehow. Neat, perfectly sized attire, and yet she walks around with her hair in a disheveled mess. Is it like that because of her job? Does she just wake up like that?
“So...what's up?”
Oh, she's talking to me.
“Nothing really, just needed a suit for something coming up.” I answer.
“Ah, that's nice. Every man needs a good suit.” she replies with a smile.
“And how about you?”
“The top button of my favorite vest popped off and I'm no good with a needle – they do repairs for free here.”
“Oh, that's good. What do you do?” I ask out of curiosity.
“Business stuff. I could start throwing crazy terminology around to try and confuse or awe you, but I'm not that pretentious." she answers, the sides of her mouth curving up into a sort of half-smile.
Well obviously she does enough to justify walking around in such high class clothing everywhere she goes. I don't think I've ever even met a woman who dresses like that.
“I assume you're still a student?” she asks, eying me up and down.
“Yeah, third year.”
"You don't look it. I guessed you were 20 when you walked in." she replies.
“That uniform seem familiar, though.” she comments, scratching her chin.
“It's a school out of the city, a couple of miles away.”
Before she can continue, the apparent owner of the store steps out of the back room and appears before us, her footsteps silent as she strides across the expensive carpet.
“I didn't have any more buttons like this, so I replaced the rest of them while I was at it. Sorry it took so long.” she states, bowing in apology.
“No no no, this is great! Thanks, Lyra!” the other woman answers.
“Thank you for coming by, Ms. Satou.” she replies, bowing again.
“No problem. I'll be back when I manage to mess it up again.” she says with a snicker, waving goodbye as she steps out the open doors.
Ms. Satou? There's a girl at my school with the same name. Lilly, I believe her name was? I might be overthinking this, it's probably just a common name.
“How may I help you, sir?”
“Ah, I need a suit for something coming up.”
“Any specifics?” she asks.
There's specifics to worry about? I thought I just got something that fit and walked out.
“Nothing special, I'm on a budget.” I answer.
“Very well.”
The woman whips a measuring tape out of her pocket and steps behind me, instructing me to stand still.
“5 feet 9 inches. 175cm.” she recites.
The measurements get finer and finer as she goes along; arm span, leg length, waist measurement, broadness of my shoulders, thickness of my neck, as well as about ten other seemingly random variables.
“I'll be right back.” she states, disappearing into the jungle of tasteful clothing.
Within the minute, she appears right behind me, almost making my heart skip a beat as she announces that she has found the perfect suit for me.
“The dressing rooms are right over there, sir.”
I take the bundle of hangers from her outstretched hand. It's nothing special, like I asked – solid black, no fancy buttons, no expensive cuffs, no sunglasses or a watch on a chain; just a plain black suit.
Her amber eyes shoot an intense stare my way as I step over and into a dressing room. A strange pressure emanating from outside the door as I change out of my school uniform and into the new...
“Wow, this fits pretty well.” I comment aloud.
From across the store, a voice announces “Perfection is my duty!” as if on cue.
Fair enough.
I hop back into my school uniform and carry the hangers to the counter, where I'm rung up in the same stiff, professional manner as everything else.
“That will be ¥------”
Alright. That's pretty fair. I guess it's nice that it only runs a few yen over the amount my parents gave me for this.
I grab my receipt, receive a wave goodbye, and step out the door, new suit in tow. All my business in the city is taken care of, but for some reason, there's one thing on my mind – who was that woman from earlier? I can't get her out of my head for some reason.
Disheveled blonde hair, ruby-red eyes, and a business suit. And yet despite all that, she wasn't the least bit intimidating or...business-like in any way. She came across as foolhardy more than anything, like she was just waiting for something exciting to happen.
I should have at least asked for her name.
Next
Last edited by Thanatos02 on Thu Jul 24, 2014 6:33 am, edited 4 times in total.
- NullTwelve
- Posts: 3
- Joined: Mon Apr 30, 2012 5:28 pm
Re: Akira Pseudo-Route
Its a great read so far, in my opinion.
Isaac C. I see what you did there.Mr. Clarke
- Thanatos02
- Posts: 150
- Joined: Mon Oct 15, 2012 5:52 pm
Re: Akira Pseudo-Route
Act 2 - Part 2-1: Gathering Information
“So you split your equation into two halves, the reducing half, and the oxidizing half...”
For the first time all week; I'm able to pay attention in class. Today's lesson involves oxidation-reduction reactions, a subject that elicits an even lower amount of focus from the class than usual; even Misha and Shizune are beginning to doze off.
I feel great, however. No hangover or blaring headaches. No eyeballs that feel like they could pop out of my head if I were to blink or half-digested stomach contents ready to escape from their chains of oppression at any moment. Nothing that could possibly ruin my day.
Every man should get drunk at least once in their life, so that they may appreciate the times when they aren’t drunk that much more. Maybe I’m just a wimp, or a lightweight, or something along those lines; but I will never understand people who hit the bottle as often as possible, just for the sake of doing so. Do the effects of hangovers wear off over time? Kenji seemed just fine yesterday, but I’d like to avoid using him as the standard for...well, anything, really.
“Takashi, would you like to read for us next?”
He’s facing the windows, lost in a dreamlike stupor as his eyes flutter between 'half-open' and 'what was I doing again?'
“Takashi, are you with us?”
Takashi is not with us, it would appear that he has entered a realm of slumber, a plane I wish I could devote a little more time to. His seatmate, Lelouch, has also been coaxed into rest, head propped up on the five fingers of his left hand.
Mutou shakes his head in disappointment before grabbing the heaviest textbook he can find, walking over in front of the duo, and raising it above their desks.
Is he allowed to do that?
The textbook drops from his fingers, hitting the desk with a solid, ear-shattering ‘SLAM’. Within the instant: Takashi and Lelouch both spring back into the world of the awake, sputtering nonsense as they try to orient themselves.
“Takashi, page 383, second paragraph from the top, read. Lelouch, stay awake.” Mutou chastises.
They both give a halfhearted ‘yes sir’ before performing their assigned duties, with Lelouch instead choosing to float into his daydreams and Takashi stumbling over every other word in the textbook.
However, no one raised a word of objection when a bluish-green haired girl on the front row fell asleep and even weathered Mutou's recent wake up call.
“So you split your equation into two halves, the reducing half, and the oxidizing half...”
For the first time all week; I'm able to pay attention in class. Today's lesson involves oxidation-reduction reactions, a subject that elicits an even lower amount of focus from the class than usual; even Misha and Shizune are beginning to doze off.
I feel great, however. No hangover or blaring headaches. No eyeballs that feel like they could pop out of my head if I were to blink or half-digested stomach contents ready to escape from their chains of oppression at any moment. Nothing that could possibly ruin my day.
Every man should get drunk at least once in their life, so that they may appreciate the times when they aren’t drunk that much more. Maybe I’m just a wimp, or a lightweight, or something along those lines; but I will never understand people who hit the bottle as often as possible, just for the sake of doing so. Do the effects of hangovers wear off over time? Kenji seemed just fine yesterday, but I’d like to avoid using him as the standard for...well, anything, really.
“Takashi, would you like to read for us next?”
He’s facing the windows, lost in a dreamlike stupor as his eyes flutter between 'half-open' and 'what was I doing again?'
“Takashi, are you with us?”
Takashi is not with us, it would appear that he has entered a realm of slumber, a plane I wish I could devote a little more time to. His seatmate, Lelouch, has also been coaxed into rest, head propped up on the five fingers of his left hand.
Mutou shakes his head in disappointment before grabbing the heaviest textbook he can find, walking over in front of the duo, and raising it above their desks.
Is he allowed to do that?
The textbook drops from his fingers, hitting the desk with a solid, ear-shattering ‘SLAM’. Within the instant: Takashi and Lelouch both spring back into the world of the awake, sputtering nonsense as they try to orient themselves.
“Takashi, page 383, second paragraph from the top, read. Lelouch, stay awake.” Mutou chastises.
They both give a halfhearted ‘yes sir’ before performing their assigned duties, with Lelouch instead choosing to float into his daydreams and Takashi stumbling over every other word in the textbook.
However, no one raised a word of objection when a bluish-green haired girl on the front row fell asleep and even weathered Mutou's recent wake up call.
Last edited by Thanatos02 on Tue Oct 23, 2012 6:28 pm, edited 4 times in total.
- Thanatos02
- Posts: 150
- Joined: Mon Oct 15, 2012 5:52 pm
Re: Akira Pseudo-Route
Act 2 - Part 2-2: Gathering Information
The lunch bell doesn’t come any sooner, despite the fact that I managed to stay immersed in the lesson all throughout class. Maybe time only flies if you're having fun. Or maybe it has to do with that thing about time being a relative concept that depends on-
I am thinking way too hard about stuff lately. No more thoughts, only lunch now.
Considering that the roof always leads me to one awkward situation or another, I decide to stick with the cafeteria today. I may end up sitting alone, or being stuck with the sub-par quality of our school's food, but it's better than stumbling upon a sleeping Kenji again.
The stack of papers and belongings is shuffled into my bag, its strap slung around my shoulder, and my body carried to the door, driven by the lust for a satiated appetite.
Naturally, I’m stopped halfway there.
“Hisao, are you still going to the lectures this Saturday?”
“Yeah, I went out and bought a suit yesterday.” I reply, nodding.
“Good man, good man.” Mutou answers with a thumbs-up. “Are you sure you want to go? I don’t want to feel like I’m pressuring you into it.”
“Of course I want to go. I’ve got nothing to do this weekend, and I'm hoping that maybe I’ll find something to do with my life while I’m there.”
He grimaces at the latter part of my statement, but nods his head just the same.
“Alright then. I’ll be in front of the gate at seven A.M. It takes about an hour to get there. Bring some money for food as well, since we won’t be getting back ‘til around five or six.”
I nod my head in acknowledgment and wave goodbye, stepping out the door and back onto the trail of righteous lunch-seeking.
It only takes a few glances into the maelstrom of other hungry students to steer me back off of that path, however. It's only now that I remember why I never come here for food. All of the lines are backed up at least halfway across the cafeteria, with no signs of suddenly dissipating and allowing me passage.
Is there a special system here? Do students with special food-related needs get 1st-in-line privileges? Maybe they get their own line, so they don’t have to waste away in line with the other students. But what if the special-needs line attracts too many takers and that line also backs up against the opposite wall?
Maybe that’s why this cafeteria has five different serving lines. None of which have gotten any shorter within the duration of my pointless musings.
Rooftop it is, then. For a second there I thought I had a choice.
I turn away from the chamber of starving students and make my way back up the stairs, this time to be sidestepped by something different.
Or someone different, rather.
The tapping of a long, slender cane rings out through the hallways, having emptied within the past few minutes thanks to the aforementioned lunch bell. Behind the noise lies a tall, blonde-haired girl; a certain 'Lilly Satou.'
“Hey Lilly.” I call out.
She stops and perks up, as if trying to pick out the right name to match with my voice, no doubt from a mental registry of hundreds of others.
“Good afternoon, Hisao. How are you?”
“I’m doing great. Decided I’d go up and get some fresh air since the cafeteria is so crowded.”
“That’s nice to hear. The cafeteria is avoidable, if you’ve got some free time.” Lilly responds.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m inviting you to have lunch with us. If you have nothing else planned, of course.”
“Ah. I’d love to.” I answer.
Lilly gives me a warm smile and turns back toward her previous destination, the ‘tap tap tapping’ of her cane resuming as her free hand guides along the wall. I've had tea with her once before, and I know where the room is, but I think it's safe to assume that our usage of that space may have been a one-time thing.
Anyway, today is going better than planned.
“What did you mean by ‘us’? Are there other people you eat with?” I ask.
“Only one other, I believe she’s in your class. I’ll introduce her if you two aren’t acquainted.”
I nod my head, mentally slapping myself as I realized what I just did.
You see, it’s things like this. Everyone tries to tell me that it isn’t that big of a deal, but I just can’t get past it. Gesturing to blind people, staring at girls with skin conditions or deformities, trying to shake hands with a girl who has no hands to shake, and even talking to deaf people. Is it something I’m just supposed to get used to? And if so, when do I get used to it?!
It doesn’t take long for us to reach our destination; an unused classroom on the 2nd floor. My assumptions weren't safe to make, as this is the same room I stumbled upon her last week, and more than likely the room she resides in any time class isn't in session.
“Please, have a seat wherever you like. I’ll get some tea going.” she states.
She follows through what must be a practiced routine as she fills a small water heater and sets it on the table. A pot and a pair of teacups join it, ready to fulfill their duty. After that, she opens a cupboard and lays out some food; nothing special, just a loaf of bread among other things.
“Here, let me take care of that.” I comment as she feels around for something else, beginning to look frustrated as her hand fails to locate whatever she must be looking for.
“Ah, would you?” she replies with a smile.
As she takes a seat and waits for the water to boil, I can’t help but study her facial features. Long, blonde-hair, blue eyes, a thin and soft nose…
It’s familiar somehow. I can’t put my finger on it, but it's uncanny. I thought the exact same thing when I met that woman from yesterday as well. It doesn’t help that she stands out in my mind more than anything; that messy hair, those ruby-red eyes, that thin figure...
“Hey Lilly, can I ask you something?”
“I don't mind; what is it?”
“Do you have a sister?” I ask.
She tilts her head, curious as to where this is coming from.
“Why yes, I do. Why do you ask?”
“I met someone yesterday named ‘Ms. Satou’, and I couldn't help but think that there was some kind of relation between you and her.”
“My sister's name is Akira. I’m not sure if she’s the same ‘Ms. Satou’ you met, but the possibility is certainly there.” she replies. “She comes to visit quite often, so I'm sure you'll cross paths with her someday.”
“Maybe.” I respond, adding the last touch to a stack of sandwiches and placing the tray on the table between Lilly and I.
I sit back in my chair and take one of the sandwiches as Lilly pours the heated water, maneuvering the nozzle of the water heater into the teapot and back to the edge of the table in a display of practiced dexterity, not once spilling or burning herself.
“Strange, Hanako doesn't appear to be joining us today.”
“Hanako?” I ask.
“Ah, I'm certain that you've met her. She's in your class.”
I feel so stupid right now. I've seen her leave class with Lilly multiple times; of course she's the other person.
“So you two have lunch together?”
“Quite often, yes. Not today, however. She may be in the library, lost in another story.” Lilly muses, giggling to herself.
Always in the library, huh? I remember running into her during my first week and trying to introduce myself after shying away from doing so in front of the entire class. Of course, that just went even worse and she wound up bolting out like a terrified rabbit.
“I see.” I answer, unable to think of anything else to add.
Lilly takes advantage of the silence to pour a cup of tea for both herself and I.
“So, Hisao, how are you enjoying your time at Yamaku?” she asks before raising the teacup to her lips.
“It's...”
Depressing? Confusing? Disorienting? Foreign? Different?
Maybe I could call it enlightening; it's thanks to my time here that I've come to realize how stuck I am. I can barely manage to meet new people, I'm forbidden from doing most of the things I used to have no issue with, and I can't even climb a few flights of stairs without having to stop and calm myself down. My life has become riddled with a mess of a health complication that puts my continued existence in the hands of over a dozen pills and an oversized dose of luck.
“It's been alright. I'm finally getting into the pace of my classes.”
There's no point in nagging her with my problems. I'm here to have lunch and attempt to socialize, not whine about how out-of-place I feel -- I'll figure it out on my own.
“I'm happy for you.” she says with a smile. “I hear you and Mr. Mutou have been getting along rather well.”
“Oh, there was a chair open at a science festival he's going to and I volunteered to ride with him. Science is just my thing, I suppose.”
Lilly nods and continues sipping from the little white teacup, striking me with a bit of guilt as I realize that I haven't even touched my food or the tea she prepared for me.
“Not hungry, today?” she asks, picking up on my thoughts before I can even act on them.
“Ah, yeah. Sorry.”
“It's quite alright.” she replies. “Don't feel guilty, everyone has off days. You're welcome to come and have lunch with Hanako and I whenever you wish.”
I nod my head before mentally slapping myself for what must be the tenth time today, backing up and answering with a 'thank you.'
At the very least, I have somewhere to go for lunch. This is certainly better than the roof at any rate, since I know no one but Lilly and her companion will be here.
There's still one unanswered question, however. I know that Lilly has a 'Ms. Satou' as a sister, but I don't know if that's the same one I saw yesterday...
It's only now that I realize I've spent all day thinking about a woman I talked to for all of five minutes, at a clothing store no less. I'm not sure as to why I'm so intrigued with this mystery, but at least it's something to contemplate that isn't about how pitiful I am.
I'm sure it'll resolve on its own. It's not like my life depends on it, at any rate.
Previous| Next
The lunch bell doesn’t come any sooner, despite the fact that I managed to stay immersed in the lesson all throughout class. Maybe time only flies if you're having fun. Or maybe it has to do with that thing about time being a relative concept that depends on-
I am thinking way too hard about stuff lately. No more thoughts, only lunch now.
Considering that the roof always leads me to one awkward situation or another, I decide to stick with the cafeteria today. I may end up sitting alone, or being stuck with the sub-par quality of our school's food, but it's better than stumbling upon a sleeping Kenji again.
The stack of papers and belongings is shuffled into my bag, its strap slung around my shoulder, and my body carried to the door, driven by the lust for a satiated appetite.
Naturally, I’m stopped halfway there.
“Hisao, are you still going to the lectures this Saturday?”
“Yeah, I went out and bought a suit yesterday.” I reply, nodding.
“Good man, good man.” Mutou answers with a thumbs-up. “Are you sure you want to go? I don’t want to feel like I’m pressuring you into it.”
“Of course I want to go. I’ve got nothing to do this weekend, and I'm hoping that maybe I’ll find something to do with my life while I’m there.”
He grimaces at the latter part of my statement, but nods his head just the same.
“Alright then. I’ll be in front of the gate at seven A.M. It takes about an hour to get there. Bring some money for food as well, since we won’t be getting back ‘til around five or six.”
I nod my head in acknowledgment and wave goodbye, stepping out the door and back onto the trail of righteous lunch-seeking.
It only takes a few glances into the maelstrom of other hungry students to steer me back off of that path, however. It's only now that I remember why I never come here for food. All of the lines are backed up at least halfway across the cafeteria, with no signs of suddenly dissipating and allowing me passage.
Is there a special system here? Do students with special food-related needs get 1st-in-line privileges? Maybe they get their own line, so they don’t have to waste away in line with the other students. But what if the special-needs line attracts too many takers and that line also backs up against the opposite wall?
Maybe that’s why this cafeteria has five different serving lines. None of which have gotten any shorter within the duration of my pointless musings.
Rooftop it is, then. For a second there I thought I had a choice.
I turn away from the chamber of starving students and make my way back up the stairs, this time to be sidestepped by something different.
Or someone different, rather.
The tapping of a long, slender cane rings out through the hallways, having emptied within the past few minutes thanks to the aforementioned lunch bell. Behind the noise lies a tall, blonde-haired girl; a certain 'Lilly Satou.'
“Hey Lilly.” I call out.
She stops and perks up, as if trying to pick out the right name to match with my voice, no doubt from a mental registry of hundreds of others.
“Good afternoon, Hisao. How are you?”
“I’m doing great. Decided I’d go up and get some fresh air since the cafeteria is so crowded.”
“That’s nice to hear. The cafeteria is avoidable, if you’ve got some free time.” Lilly responds.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m inviting you to have lunch with us. If you have nothing else planned, of course.”
“Ah. I’d love to.” I answer.
Lilly gives me a warm smile and turns back toward her previous destination, the ‘tap tap tapping’ of her cane resuming as her free hand guides along the wall. I've had tea with her once before, and I know where the room is, but I think it's safe to assume that our usage of that space may have been a one-time thing.
Anyway, today is going better than planned.
“What did you mean by ‘us’? Are there other people you eat with?” I ask.
“Only one other, I believe she’s in your class. I’ll introduce her if you two aren’t acquainted.”
I nod my head, mentally slapping myself as I realized what I just did.
You see, it’s things like this. Everyone tries to tell me that it isn’t that big of a deal, but I just can’t get past it. Gesturing to blind people, staring at girls with skin conditions or deformities, trying to shake hands with a girl who has no hands to shake, and even talking to deaf people. Is it something I’m just supposed to get used to? And if so, when do I get used to it?!
It doesn’t take long for us to reach our destination; an unused classroom on the 2nd floor. My assumptions weren't safe to make, as this is the same room I stumbled upon her last week, and more than likely the room she resides in any time class isn't in session.
“Please, have a seat wherever you like. I’ll get some tea going.” she states.
She follows through what must be a practiced routine as she fills a small water heater and sets it on the table. A pot and a pair of teacups join it, ready to fulfill their duty. After that, she opens a cupboard and lays out some food; nothing special, just a loaf of bread among other things.
“Here, let me take care of that.” I comment as she feels around for something else, beginning to look frustrated as her hand fails to locate whatever she must be looking for.
“Ah, would you?” she replies with a smile.
As she takes a seat and waits for the water to boil, I can’t help but study her facial features. Long, blonde-hair, blue eyes, a thin and soft nose…
It’s familiar somehow. I can’t put my finger on it, but it's uncanny. I thought the exact same thing when I met that woman from yesterday as well. It doesn’t help that she stands out in my mind more than anything; that messy hair, those ruby-red eyes, that thin figure...
“Hey Lilly, can I ask you something?”
“I don't mind; what is it?”
“Do you have a sister?” I ask.
She tilts her head, curious as to where this is coming from.
“Why yes, I do. Why do you ask?”
“I met someone yesterday named ‘Ms. Satou’, and I couldn't help but think that there was some kind of relation between you and her.”
“My sister's name is Akira. I’m not sure if she’s the same ‘Ms. Satou’ you met, but the possibility is certainly there.” she replies. “She comes to visit quite often, so I'm sure you'll cross paths with her someday.”
“Maybe.” I respond, adding the last touch to a stack of sandwiches and placing the tray on the table between Lilly and I.
I sit back in my chair and take one of the sandwiches as Lilly pours the heated water, maneuvering the nozzle of the water heater into the teapot and back to the edge of the table in a display of practiced dexterity, not once spilling or burning herself.
“Strange, Hanako doesn't appear to be joining us today.”
“Hanako?” I ask.
“Ah, I'm certain that you've met her. She's in your class.”
I feel so stupid right now. I've seen her leave class with Lilly multiple times; of course she's the other person.
“So you two have lunch together?”
“Quite often, yes. Not today, however. She may be in the library, lost in another story.” Lilly muses, giggling to herself.
Always in the library, huh? I remember running into her during my first week and trying to introduce myself after shying away from doing so in front of the entire class. Of course, that just went even worse and she wound up bolting out like a terrified rabbit.
“I see.” I answer, unable to think of anything else to add.
Lilly takes advantage of the silence to pour a cup of tea for both herself and I.
“So, Hisao, how are you enjoying your time at Yamaku?” she asks before raising the teacup to her lips.
“It's...”
Depressing? Confusing? Disorienting? Foreign? Different?
Maybe I could call it enlightening; it's thanks to my time here that I've come to realize how stuck I am. I can barely manage to meet new people, I'm forbidden from doing most of the things I used to have no issue with, and I can't even climb a few flights of stairs without having to stop and calm myself down. My life has become riddled with a mess of a health complication that puts my continued existence in the hands of over a dozen pills and an oversized dose of luck.
“It's been alright. I'm finally getting into the pace of my classes.”
There's no point in nagging her with my problems. I'm here to have lunch and attempt to socialize, not whine about how out-of-place I feel -- I'll figure it out on my own.
“I'm happy for you.” she says with a smile. “I hear you and Mr. Mutou have been getting along rather well.”
“Oh, there was a chair open at a science festival he's going to and I volunteered to ride with him. Science is just my thing, I suppose.”
Lilly nods and continues sipping from the little white teacup, striking me with a bit of guilt as I realize that I haven't even touched my food or the tea she prepared for me.
“Not hungry, today?” she asks, picking up on my thoughts before I can even act on them.
“Ah, yeah. Sorry.”
“It's quite alright.” she replies. “Don't feel guilty, everyone has off days. You're welcome to come and have lunch with Hanako and I whenever you wish.”
I nod my head before mentally slapping myself for what must be the tenth time today, backing up and answering with a 'thank you.'
At the very least, I have somewhere to go for lunch. This is certainly better than the roof at any rate, since I know no one but Lilly and her companion will be here.
There's still one unanswered question, however. I know that Lilly has a 'Ms. Satou' as a sister, but I don't know if that's the same one I saw yesterday...
It's only now that I realize I've spent all day thinking about a woman I talked to for all of five minutes, at a clothing store no less. I'm not sure as to why I'm so intrigued with this mystery, but at least it's something to contemplate that isn't about how pitiful I am.
I'm sure it'll resolve on its own. It's not like my life depends on it, at any rate.
Previous| Next
Last edited by Thanatos02 on Fri Oct 17, 2014 11:54 pm, edited 6 times in total.
Re: Akira Pseudo-Route
Ugh, my head hurts...Thanatos02 wrote:Hydrogen and Oxygen merge and create a water molecule. Why? So that each molecule can have a complete outer-shell of electrons. How? Hydrogen and Oxygen form a covalent bond – Oxygen shares two of its electrons, and both Hydrogens share their one electron.
My heart beats erratically and is at nonstop risk to just up and stop working. Why? Because the series of 'electrical impulse conductors' in my heart sometimes fumbles the signal that keeps my heart beating, thanks to a kind of nerve damage I was born with. And how? The erratic beat and jumbled up electrical signals can cause an interruption of equilibrium in my heart, resulting in cardiac arrest.
Those are definite facts. I may or may not like them, but it's how the world works.
Routes: Hanako>Lilly>Shizune>Rin>Kenji>Emi
Girls: Hanako>Misha>Rin>Shizune>Lilly>Emi
Girls: Hanako>Misha>Rin>Shizune>Lilly>Emi
- YourFavAnon
- Posts: 239
- Joined: Mon Jul 02, 2012 12:58 pm
Re: Akira Pseudo-Route
>Not making your avatar something suggestive
Here, try (and crop a part from) something like this:
Beyond that, this route will be suitable to my tastes. I commend your godly work, my friend.
Here, try (and crop a part from) something like this:
Beyond that, this route will be suitable to my tastes. I commend your godly work, my friend.
I write things occasionally.
Dumps of my 35+ fics can be found here and here (including some non-KS stuff).
Dumps of my 35+ fics can be found here and here (including some non-KS stuff).
- Thanatos02
- Posts: 150
- Joined: Mon Oct 15, 2012 5:52 pm
Re: Akira Pseudo-Route
I had the idea with multiple images, but I can't decide which girl I should make a lewd avatar out of.YourFavAnon wrote:>Not making your avatar something suggestive
- Thanatos02
- Posts: 150
- Joined: Mon Oct 15, 2012 5:52 pm
Re: Akira Pseudo-Route
Act 2 - Part 3-1: Black Coffee
Everything lies still as sun bleeds in through the window, painting the room with light. A stack of homework sits on a desk next to the bed, its silent cries to be completed falling upon metaphorically deaf ears.
Instead of studying, completing homework, or generally being a responsible student; I’ve chosen to spend my afternoon lying on the bed. Beige fills my eyes as I stare up at the ceiling, a deep sigh rolling out of my mouth as I think of all the things on my plate.
First, there’s the stack of homework which, attractive as it may be, has trouble getting me into the mood to do it. Second, there’s the matter of the science symposium I’ve volunteered to attend this weekend, and all of the preparations that entails.
I’m also running low on snack foods, supplies, and other such needs. Now would be a good time to go out and explore the town’s variety of grocery stores, if any variety exists; but this bed is just so comfortable and accommodating. It would be rude to leave it hanging like that.
Oh bed, you’re the only one who understands me. You share your comfy expanses of pillowy fluff without asking for anything in return; and I love you for it.
“Great, now I’m talking to the bed. I’m going to go crazy in this place, aren’t I?”
All it takes is a sharp knock on the door to bring me back into the world of 'those who don’t talk to furniture', a repetition beckoning for me to leave the soft, warm embrace of my mattress and venture out onto the-
Okay, I hop out of bed and answer the door.
“Dude.” A certain scarf-clad dorm mate greets.
“What do you want, Kenji?”
“What do I want? A lot of things. But I’m not here for that; I’m just here to see how you’re doing, man.
“You can see how I’m doing when you pay me back for that pizza from last week.”
He clicks his tongue, brow furrowing in disapproval as I call back to our deal from last week. An encounter in the shower I’d rather forget.
“I’ll have your money tomorrow.”
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” I answer.
“How can you be so cold over something as material as legal tender, man? I thought we was bros. Homies. Grove Street fo’ life, y’know?”
He attempts to throw up a series of gang signs, giving up as soon as he realizes that he can't even see the shapes of the twirling fingers two feet in front of his eyes.
“Actually, there is something I need.” He says.
“What is it?”
“Are you going to the grocery store later?”
“I was thinking about it, y-“
“Can you grab some milk while you’re there? I need it for... stuff.”
What kind of ‘stuff’ could you possibly need milk for, besides consumption? I’ll bet he plays mad scientist in his room, mixing together all sorts of things just to see what pops out. I wonder if he’s ever had any success. Hopefully I’ll never hear any horror stories about something like mustard gas stains in one of the rooms he used to be in.
“Alright, but I’m holding onto it until you pay me for both it and the pizza.” I answer.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, man. I’ll have your filthy lucre by tomorrow.”
I nod my head as he turns around and slithers back into his own room, the sound of the door sliding shut followed by at least seven different clicks and tumbles.
“Well, I’m already standing up.” I comment aloud as I return to my desk, sliding my keys and wallet into my pocket. Guess I'll take the cell phone as well, in case something happens – actually, I should probably go ahead and throw the emergency hotline on speed-dial; at least it'll give me some contacts other than 'Mom', 'Dad', and 'Voice Mail'.
The clicking of the doorknob indicates that my room is now impenetrable and I set out for the iron-wrought front gates of Yamaku, stepping out onto the long road to the town at the base of the hill.
I’ve thought about it before, but it still bothers me. Why was this school built on a hill? Was it some kind of bastion a couple hundred years ago when hills afforded maximum defensive capability? Was it originally a normal school populated by healthy, able-bodied students who had no trouble climbing this hill every time they had to go out and do something?
Maybe this was the only place they had to build it. I’ll go with that; that makes the most sense.
I like things that make sense. Maybe that’s why science clicks so well with me; the idea behind scientific method is figuring out why and how things work, and why and how they make sense that way.
Hydrogen and Oxygen merge and create a water molecule. Why? So that each molecule can have a complete outer-shell of electrons. How? Hydrogen and Oxygen form a covalent bond – Oxygen shares two of its electrons, and both Hydrogens share their one electron.
My heart beats erratically and is at nonstop risk to just up and stop working. Why? Because the series of 'electrical impulse conductors' in my heart sometimes fumbles the signal that keeps my heart beating, thanks to a kind of nerve damage I was born with. And how? The erratic beat and jumbled up electrical signals can cause an interruption of equilibrium in my heart, resulting in cardiac arrest.
Those are definite facts. I may or may not like them, but it's how the world works.
I’m socially incompetent and miss every chance I’m given. Why am I at a loss for words in social situations? Why am I terrible at meeting new people? How do I fall flat on my face any time I’m given an opportunity?
Why couldn't I just man up and join the student council? Barring that, would it really be so much of a hassle to just get up and run a little every morning? I even had someone who was willing to be my running partner.
Lilly was accommodating, but I just can't bring myself to take her up on her generous offer. Hell, maybe if I did that I'd be able to actually talk to Hanako, instead of scaring her off again.
If only I could find some answers. Why aren’t there any definite facts there? Why is it just how it works? What can I do to solve this problem? How can I get a grasp on this crazy rollercoaster my life has turned into?
So to speak, I could jump out of the car at the perfect time, knocking the operator out of the way and taking control of the ride. But what do those things stand for? What do I have to jump out of? Who do I have to knock out of the way? How do I control my life once I have the operating panel in my hands?
…
I’m rambling again. Too much thinking about pointless things and not enough figuring out where the grocery store in this town is. I remember going to a convenience store with Lilly called “Aura Mart,” but I can't remember where exactly it was.
There’s an art supply store, a music store, and even a book store; but no convenience store. I’ve even found the small restaurant that Shizune and Misha used to try and coax me into joining the student council.
It would also appear that a pang of hunger has found its way to my brain as I stare at the diner, a sign hanging next to its entrance reading ‘Shanghai.’
Two and two makes four.
“Welcome to the Shanghai! We're at a slow hour so you can sit anywhere you want!” a familiar voice calls out as I enter, bowing so low that she may as well just knock her forehead against the ground.
Oh, Yuuko is here today. Despite the fact that we know each other, she still plays along with her job and steps out of the way, motioning for me to take a seat.
I don't bother trying to greet her, instead stepping past the entrance and into the store. Upon looking at the choice of seating, I notice that she was right about their business slowing to a crawl – there's only one other person h-
Messy blonde hair, golden locks swaying to and fro with the building’s air conditioning, fair skin and slender hands poking out from the few areas her black, pinstriped suit doesn’t cover. Where have I seen that before?
A certain tall woman sits in the stall right next to the entrance, checking through her phone. There’s one of two possibilities; she’s taking a break here, or Yuuko had to break away from taking her order to welcome me; either way, the table is empty. As if responding to my surprise, she looks up and takes notice of me, her deep red eyes glossing up and down my person.
“Ah, hello there.” she states.
Everything lies still as sun bleeds in through the window, painting the room with light. A stack of homework sits on a desk next to the bed, its silent cries to be completed falling upon metaphorically deaf ears.
Instead of studying, completing homework, or generally being a responsible student; I’ve chosen to spend my afternoon lying on the bed. Beige fills my eyes as I stare up at the ceiling, a deep sigh rolling out of my mouth as I think of all the things on my plate.
First, there’s the stack of homework which, attractive as it may be, has trouble getting me into the mood to do it. Second, there’s the matter of the science symposium I’ve volunteered to attend this weekend, and all of the preparations that entails.
I’m also running low on snack foods, supplies, and other such needs. Now would be a good time to go out and explore the town’s variety of grocery stores, if any variety exists; but this bed is just so comfortable and accommodating. It would be rude to leave it hanging like that.
Oh bed, you’re the only one who understands me. You share your comfy expanses of pillowy fluff without asking for anything in return; and I love you for it.
“Great, now I’m talking to the bed. I’m going to go crazy in this place, aren’t I?”
All it takes is a sharp knock on the door to bring me back into the world of 'those who don’t talk to furniture', a repetition beckoning for me to leave the soft, warm embrace of my mattress and venture out onto the-
Okay, I hop out of bed and answer the door.
“Dude.” A certain scarf-clad dorm mate greets.
“What do you want, Kenji?”
“What do I want? A lot of things. But I’m not here for that; I’m just here to see how you’re doing, man.
“You can see how I’m doing when you pay me back for that pizza from last week.”
He clicks his tongue, brow furrowing in disapproval as I call back to our deal from last week. An encounter in the shower I’d rather forget.
“I’ll have your money tomorrow.”
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” I answer.
“How can you be so cold over something as material as legal tender, man? I thought we was bros. Homies. Grove Street fo’ life, y’know?”
He attempts to throw up a series of gang signs, giving up as soon as he realizes that he can't even see the shapes of the twirling fingers two feet in front of his eyes.
“Actually, there is something I need.” He says.
“What is it?”
“Are you going to the grocery store later?”
“I was thinking about it, y-“
“Can you grab some milk while you’re there? I need it for... stuff.”
What kind of ‘stuff’ could you possibly need milk for, besides consumption? I’ll bet he plays mad scientist in his room, mixing together all sorts of things just to see what pops out. I wonder if he’s ever had any success. Hopefully I’ll never hear any horror stories about something like mustard gas stains in one of the rooms he used to be in.
“Alright, but I’m holding onto it until you pay me for both it and the pizza.” I answer.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, man. I’ll have your filthy lucre by tomorrow.”
I nod my head as he turns around and slithers back into his own room, the sound of the door sliding shut followed by at least seven different clicks and tumbles.
“Well, I’m already standing up.” I comment aloud as I return to my desk, sliding my keys and wallet into my pocket. Guess I'll take the cell phone as well, in case something happens – actually, I should probably go ahead and throw the emergency hotline on speed-dial; at least it'll give me some contacts other than 'Mom', 'Dad', and 'Voice Mail'.
The clicking of the doorknob indicates that my room is now impenetrable and I set out for the iron-wrought front gates of Yamaku, stepping out onto the long road to the town at the base of the hill.
I’ve thought about it before, but it still bothers me. Why was this school built on a hill? Was it some kind of bastion a couple hundred years ago when hills afforded maximum defensive capability? Was it originally a normal school populated by healthy, able-bodied students who had no trouble climbing this hill every time they had to go out and do something?
Maybe this was the only place they had to build it. I’ll go with that; that makes the most sense.
I like things that make sense. Maybe that’s why science clicks so well with me; the idea behind scientific method is figuring out why and how things work, and why and how they make sense that way.
Hydrogen and Oxygen merge and create a water molecule. Why? So that each molecule can have a complete outer-shell of electrons. How? Hydrogen and Oxygen form a covalent bond – Oxygen shares two of its electrons, and both Hydrogens share their one electron.
My heart beats erratically and is at nonstop risk to just up and stop working. Why? Because the series of 'electrical impulse conductors' in my heart sometimes fumbles the signal that keeps my heart beating, thanks to a kind of nerve damage I was born with. And how? The erratic beat and jumbled up electrical signals can cause an interruption of equilibrium in my heart, resulting in cardiac arrest.
Those are definite facts. I may or may not like them, but it's how the world works.
I’m socially incompetent and miss every chance I’m given. Why am I at a loss for words in social situations? Why am I terrible at meeting new people? How do I fall flat on my face any time I’m given an opportunity?
Why couldn't I just man up and join the student council? Barring that, would it really be so much of a hassle to just get up and run a little every morning? I even had someone who was willing to be my running partner.
Lilly was accommodating, but I just can't bring myself to take her up on her generous offer. Hell, maybe if I did that I'd be able to actually talk to Hanako, instead of scaring her off again.
If only I could find some answers. Why aren’t there any definite facts there? Why is it just how it works? What can I do to solve this problem? How can I get a grasp on this crazy rollercoaster my life has turned into?
So to speak, I could jump out of the car at the perfect time, knocking the operator out of the way and taking control of the ride. But what do those things stand for? What do I have to jump out of? Who do I have to knock out of the way? How do I control my life once I have the operating panel in my hands?
…
I’m rambling again. Too much thinking about pointless things and not enough figuring out where the grocery store in this town is. I remember going to a convenience store with Lilly called “Aura Mart,” but I can't remember where exactly it was.
There’s an art supply store, a music store, and even a book store; but no convenience store. I’ve even found the small restaurant that Shizune and Misha used to try and coax me into joining the student council.
It would also appear that a pang of hunger has found its way to my brain as I stare at the diner, a sign hanging next to its entrance reading ‘Shanghai.’
Two and two makes four.
“Welcome to the Shanghai! We're at a slow hour so you can sit anywhere you want!” a familiar voice calls out as I enter, bowing so low that she may as well just knock her forehead against the ground.
Oh, Yuuko is here today. Despite the fact that we know each other, she still plays along with her job and steps out of the way, motioning for me to take a seat.
I don't bother trying to greet her, instead stepping past the entrance and into the store. Upon looking at the choice of seating, I notice that she was right about their business slowing to a crawl – there's only one other person h-
Messy blonde hair, golden locks swaying to and fro with the building’s air conditioning, fair skin and slender hands poking out from the few areas her black, pinstriped suit doesn’t cover. Where have I seen that before?
A certain tall woman sits in the stall right next to the entrance, checking through her phone. There’s one of two possibilities; she’s taking a break here, or Yuuko had to break away from taking her order to welcome me; either way, the table is empty. As if responding to my surprise, she looks up and takes notice of me, her deep red eyes glossing up and down my person.
“Ah, hello there.” she states.
Last edited by Thanatos02 on Tue Oct 23, 2012 6:29 pm, edited 5 times in total.
Re: Akira Pseudo-Route
I think I would die of I went to any of these lectures
I like how every time I finish a chapter, another appears
I like how every time I finish a chapter, another appears
Routes: Hanako>Lilly>Shizune>Rin>Kenji>Emi
Girls: Hanako>Misha>Rin>Shizune>Lilly>Emi
Girls: Hanako>Misha>Rin>Shizune>Lilly>Emi