Katawa Shoujo: Re-Take

[LordDarknus]

This is my fan fic, it's big, it's not too good, and they are probably many much better than it,

http://www.lorddarknus.blogspot.com/201 ... -take.html

but this one's mine.

(disclaimer: not proof-read)

P.S. : I did not sleep for a few weekends, writing it.

[Oddball]

Well, it seemed rather obvious that you wrote it without getting any sleep. The whole thing felt like a dream somebody else was trying to describe to me without having a firm grasp of English. I'm sure it all made sen to you, but I was left scratching my head or rolling my eyes just as often as not.

I had to read the beginning of it a few times just to figure out who the point of view character was.

Then I had to reread parts of it once I realized the characters commenting on her narration weren't actually there. ... so she's disagreeing with figments of her imagination, I guess?...

There are parts where I can't tell if what she's talking about takes place in the past, or hasn't happened, yet, or what. You randomly slip Japanese into your writing without explaining, leaving me to wonder if I'm missing a reference to something.

Hisao changes languages for no reason.

The characters randomly say things that no actual person would ever say. There personalities seem to fluctuate depending on what lines you need them to say.

You even throw what logic and personality you're trying to adhere to out the window at times in order to make "funny" comments and jokes.

Sometimes it seems like the characters have just met, other times it seems like they've known each other for a while.

It's like a proper flow of time, logic, and characterization have no place in this story.

All in all, this is really horrible.

[Yellow 13]

This is my fan fic, it's big, it's not too good, and they are probably many much better than it,

http://www.lorddarknus.blogspot.com/201 ... -take.html

but this one's mine.

(disclaimer: not proof-read)

P.S. : I did not sleep for a few weekends, writing it.

[LordDarknus]

I'm sorry for the major suck...

I did tell you it's not too good.


but if some bit of explanations would help;

prologue; Iwanako's perspective
act 1; Emi's perspective (that was a bit of a dream sequence where she "introduces" herself, sorry, bad idea)
act 2; Rin's perspective
act 3; Lilly's perspective
act 4; Hanako's perspective
epilogue; Shizune's perspective

bonus part; saki's perspective then suddenly rika's perspective


Sorry again for the suck.

EDIT: Forgot to Thank You guys for even posting a Reply though; Thanks. Oddball and Yellow 13.

[LordDarknus]

you know what?

One more try.

I am not giving up on this;

I've got blisters on my fingers, but I Will pull this fic out of the horse's arse.

At least let the ideas in this one be acknowledged.





Re-Take (Synopsis)

Prologue
-Betraying One's Being


After Hisao's sudden heart attack and subsequent revelation that he has a heart condition, Iwanako has spent her days dedicated to Hisao's well-being, finding herself drawn closer and closer to him.

But he pushes her farther and harder, despite coming too close more than a few times than he should have. Having had enough of the painful uncertainties and emotional turmoil, Iwanako decides to write Hisao a letter, declaring her love for him to be pure and worthy.

She waits for his reply in the snow, under the tree they first kissed. She was happy at the prospect that there would be some finality if Hisao decides not to show, but Hisao physically drags himself up to her. Raising her hopes but starting down an unsure path for both of them.

Iwanako tries one last time to reconcile with a more and more distant and broken-hearted Hisao.

Hisao yelled at her, the only thing he could do anymore, sending Iwanako running and crying from the cut of cold sharp truth; There is no future for both of them if they choose to be together. No matter what.



Act 1
-This Broken Body


Emi, a girl with prosthetic legs who always looks ahead, didn't see Hisao as she bumped into him, sending both of them tumbling down a rabbit hole of teased love. They decide to be running partners in the morning, ostensibly for the sake of needing exercise.

Though even Emi herself notes that it's barely even puppy love that she's starting to feel, she sees something in Hisao; a spark, a determination in his eyes that would never relent. She sees herself in him.

Pushing Hisao to be more than her shadow, she ended up falling in unrequited love with him. Unacknowledged even to herself though, her feelings once nearly led Hisao to try his limits, and he does, accidentally stepping on Emi's toes when he tried to "psycho-analyse" her in a bid to help her remove her extreme social mask of false happiness.

Emi trips over herself at that, not wanting to have her darkest secrets catch up to her; she bluntly has Hisao kicked out from her routines, and they both forcibly move on.


.....Until absence made her heart fonder and ponder; "what was Hisao up to with Miki?"

She does eventually talk herself into spying on him, and as she does so, finds Miki teaching Hisao how to swim. But that didn't turn out so well when Hisao had a heart flutter mid-lesson and nearly drowned, forcing both Emi and Miki to enter the pool to save him, only Emi's efforts were Entirely unnoticed as she had been too distant from him.

From that moment on; Miki was no longer just a rival on the track, Miki became the only one Emi has ever been jealous of. And it's not because of her height, even if that's one of the many things Hisao finds attractive in Miki.


Not being one to mull over such things.. or anything, Emi finds herself; days later, troubled instead over Rin's growing nervousness, apparently the School Festival is coming up and her project is not at all finished, due to a "lack of ideas".

Hisao comes to the rescue, shockingly so to Emi, but not enough for her to kick him off the roof as she decides to eat all his boxed lunches, while Hisao instead simply talks random nonsense with Rin. Giving the desperate artists perhaps some needed ..."ideas".

Emi grows annoyed when Rin suddenly points out that Hisao's white eyepatch over his left eye made him look like a pirate. The same ambitious profession Emi herself wishes to achieve, which was actually a secret to never be whispered again.

Still the same day but under a much brighter sun, Rin somehow finds motivation to paint again, thanks to Hisao's ...randomness. Rin bids her farewells and leaves Hisao and Emi alone again after so long.

While nothing even-remotely exciting happens, they do "patch" things up and start to see "eye-to-eye". Enough so that Emi can't help but brashly ask Hisao about his choice of eyewear.

Hisao hesitates but relents, telling her that he had tried to give Miki a makeshift prosthetic hand, landing himself a great punch intended for his face. Emi would have leapt in joy at hearing that, but she doesn't, instead, she just offers him her hand to lift his spirits up. As the bells for class sounds, they both start down their way again. Together.


Time blurs as it smooths over the wrinkles of the past, until on one particular morning run; Emi decides on the day of the Festival to perhaps confess to Hisao. Not Love, that would be asking too much, but perhaps an intimate relationship with him.

Not thinking too much about it and confidently bolstered by her reflection's affirmations, Emi meets Rin at her mural, but not Hisao. As the Student Council's claws and talons were too swift and sharp with their prizes; Misha and Shizune had roped Hisao into playing the Festival's games.

At first Emi decides to simply sit with Rin all day at the completed mural, until she decides that was stupid, and instead drags Rin along on her Hisao-spying.

But it was not as she had hoped, as Hisao and Shizune seem to be getting along very well, quite because both of them seem fluent in complicated things such as English, and quite despite both of them barely understanding each other.

Despite her displeasure, Emi doesn't stop spying on Hisao though, and instead witnesses as Hisao hides another heart flutter in plain sight. Emi seems to be the only who notices the pain he's feeling, but fails to catch up to him as he covertly leaves an injured Shiraki with balls of forlorn hope.

Not long after losing Rin somewhere, Emi does finally find Hisao again, somewhat unfortunately as he tried to comically escape from her with a freshly ordered bowl of grossly unhealthy (but delicious!) Takoyaki.

Just as Hisao was about to eat, Emi commands him to stop ...and Hisao surprisingly does in the gaping-mouth manner reminiscent of Rin.

They both sit down on a bench and simply talk the time away, while Emi unconsciously starts eating all of Hisao's Takoyaki. But Hisao reveals a shadow of his own dark secret, he is suicidal, and had half-heartedly wanted to stop his heart with whatever bowl of "fried crap" he could find.

But he is not hopelessly manic, instead, he accepts his very imminent mortality and wishes to shorten the agony of waiting for it. Emi is almost reduced to tears at this before she sees again, something in Hisao; the same melancholic but unrelenting determination that had her fall in love with him in the first place.

The feeling convinces Emi that he's going to be alright. Somehow, perhaps down a dark road of pain and sorrow, but he'll be alright. For she decides to be there for him. To be with him. To be like him.

Accepting the darkness that cannot be outrun, they both decide to check on Rin's mural, wanting to see how it fares in the setting sun.


Unexpectedly; Lilly and Hanako appear, apparently having helped Rin previously in the desperate days of paintings and now turning out to admire their finished work. No doubt it was at Hisao's dubious "encouragements".

Though Emi soon notes that an even More Unlikely duo; Shizune and Misha, had done the Same for Rin, but only because they lost a bet or a game to Hisao.

Not that it matters somewhat, for somehow, as the fireworks shoot and declare their finality, Hisao deftly reveals his true personality; that of a very broken, "heartless" person. But Hanako, the only one admiring the mural instead of the dancing colours in the sky, speaks up about it.

Rin seizes the moment and convinces Hisao that he is deserving of forgiveness, greatly surprising Hisao, a most defeated person who finds nothing but agonising death to look forward to, Hisao can only ask in return what he needs forgiveness for;

Rin: "to be happy"

For reasons that cannot be described, Hisao cries in Rin's warm embrace, perhaps silently promising to himself to appreciate his life with his new friends. To Live, his life, with his friends.

As Hanako had said to him: "It is not meaningless if you survive."

Emi finds something to learn too, in that starry starry night, when Hisao finally stopped seeing the world as he saw those spectacular fireworks; A world of Nothing but a barren Stage, where shadows of former selves strut and fret their hours upon the stage before being heard no more.

It was but a tasteless tale told by an anguished idiot, full of sound and fury. For in the serene quiet of a shared night with new beginnings; Emi accepts that Hisao is not a fool, and neither is she; Hisao is going to be alright. He just ...didn't, quite need her.



Act 2
-Our Shattered Souls


Rin, a girl who no arms but bearing a remarkable tendency to embrace things no one else can; enjoys her time spent with the enigmatic Hisao.

Mostly not just with Hisao, but with a whole band of hobbyist singers, consisting of Lilly and Hanako, Shizune and Misha, Emi and Hisao, and herself.

It was Hisao's idea to form this little "unofficial" glee club, and he somehow convinced everyone in it that it was a good use of their time. And it mostly is, as many of the English songs Hisao imposes on them do actually help them familiarise with English. (His regular random "ravings" also consists of discussing some textbook lessons and sharing his ..interesting perspectives on the problems)

And while no one was at all professional in terms of the actual singing, and Shizune herself was a very very bad ...well, literally Tone Deaf, if it must be put that way, the ever insightful Rin does see in it that everyone is just together because they like each other's company. Despite some little slights that still get out eventually.


Little slights... Rin seems to see many of these "little slights", or seem to be the root cause of them, wherever she goes, whomever she greets.

One day, it all seems to finally comes to the forefront of her "mostly-cloudy with a chance-of-comprehension at tea-time" thoughts, when she starts arguing with Hisao while having a meal at Emi's house.

Hisao seemingly angry, almost leaves the table, but Emi stops him and barks at him to sit down. But the "damage is done", as Meiko (Emi's mom) disappears from the table instead, "to bring a little more food".

Emi would have start a lecture at both Rin and Hisao for their poor behaviours, before Meiko brings in a bowl half-full... or.. half-empty of spaghetti, as noted by a rather hungry Rin.

Despite that, Rin didn't like spaghetti as much as Hisao did, and would have liked for him to have her lions share.

But he already started on his plate, so only ..."awww", is all, that Rin puts it as.

And just starts on her own dish anyway.

Unexpectedly, the Nurse shows up and proudly declares of his cooking of the spaghetti, but it greatly upset Rin when only stormy anger struck Emi. Meiko and the Nurse try to stop Emi as she storms out of the dining hall, while Hisao hastily wipes his mouth and slides his chair back under the table. Probably wondering what to do as much as Rin was confused of it all.

Rin apologises for sadly upsetting Emi, and even Hisao too, but Hisao calmly explains that it's not at all Rin's fault; The Nurse and Meiko have decided to wed, and Emi has nothing but muted hatred for it.

This explanation only confuses Rin more, but before Hisao can say more, he quickly drags Rin by the sleeve, (an act Rin romantically notes) before they miss Meiko's car.

Apparently, Rin didn't notice that Emi had loudly took off on her motorcycle, and the Nurse had chased after her on his own motorcycle, and Meiko was about to start chasing them in her car. Hisao puts Rin into the front passenger seat and quickly gets in the back as Meiko speeds towards her errant daughter.

Meiko seems to know where Emi is going already, and starts uncomfortably spitting out bits and pieces of her past tragedy. Making Rin ever more sad and confused, regretting her questioning of the relevance of Emi's father to the situation at hand.

Hisao thought it best for he himself to start explaining Emi's dark past as best and respectful as he can, lest Rin feels forever uneasy and guilty for her little slight with Meiko.

It appears that Emi's father was an undercover police officer, working with an American DEA officer. The American officer was someone Emi looked up to, and had qualities that she aspired to. Someone whom Emi trusted, whom slept with Meiko and destroyed everything in her life.

Perhaps out of shame, or his own demons, the American officer killed himself with too much drugs, something that Emi's father tried to deny was a meditated murder on his part to the courts, despite the rising rumours and dark implications.

Emi's father didn't let that stop him, nor an ankle shattered by accident stop his life, he moved things on by taking Emi out for a movie, but was tragically stabbed to death after bumping into an addict.

And while crying over him, she had heard Meiko's car blindingly approaching, and not thinking rationally ran into the middle of the street, leading to her losing not just her father that night.

The horror in Meiko's eyes were relieved in suppressed screams and restrained tears, as the Nurse pulls Emi off her bike before both of them barrel into an oncoming train.

Meiko partially lost her mind and she braked so hard that Hisao was knocked unconscious hitting the headrest. Rin was left bleeding due to a slight cut from the seat-belt. But she was more confused than in pain, and it was confusion that hurt her most, when she doesn't know what to do.

She pulls Hisao down and out onto the street, it was raining, but she thinks that will help. A little.

Rin was soaked more and more in uncomprehensible sadness and feelings of being utterly lost, when Hisao started crying, reliving something dark and painful, the name "Iwanako" is all Rin hears, over and over again, for explanations.

Not wanting to see him drenched further, she leans over him to shelter him from the rain, her eyes drawn closer each time Hisao sheds a tear. Until enough tears brought Rin to kiss him, at first softly as she can, then slowly as deeply as she desires.

His eyes finally open in shock, but grew tender with wistful sadness at what just happened.

Was that another little slight too? Something she should never have done? No matter how right it felt? Rin can't feel anything right anymore, as she tried in vain and failed in shame to offer Hisao a hand.

Hisao gets up on his own anyway, leaving Rin to stare at her retracted cotton cuff, gripping the pain of sadness.

They start exchanging very worried words about Emi, but are unsure if they should approach, so decide they need to leave her to Meiko and the Nurse. They can't do anything to help Emi now, this is a moment between her and her new family, whether she accepts them or not.

And in that shared moment of being lost and helpless in the rain, Hisao can only ask Rin;

Hisao: "Why did you kiss me?"

Rin felt only a natural answer was the right answer; and that she loves him. She kissed him, because she loved him.

Neither of them really knew. At all. Rin perhaps was far more surprised when Hisao kissed her back, for reasons neither of them knew either.

As the rain had given her arms made of tears in heaven, she gave him a hug that no one else can; A hug with arms made of sadness, helplessness, loneliness and happiness. All brought together in the taste of tomato spaghetti sauce mixed in the rain of tears.

Rin feels something she has never felt before, she tries to paint it in her heart before Hisao starts to gently push her back, it was a firm push that only grew colder and maddening. It turned her arms back into just lifeless sleeves sliding down Hisao... the feeling of something suddenly snapping hits Rin's mind, that one special paintbrush she were to paint her love with, was broken forever.

But the pain doesn't sting.. Rin tries not to feel that "thing" she felt, when Meiko and the Nurse and Emi came back from the brink of death.

Emi is still badly shaken, probably the same way Rin is, but Emi doesn't seem sorry.

Hisao tells her something; "Don't be afraid." The words Iwanako softly whispered before dying in his arms.

Hisao: "I'm sure your dad would say nothing less. Right now; He's asking; "Can you Stand Up for Yourself?", how are you going to answer him? By falling and wallowing your life away in tragedy? That's not what you showed me when you ran with me."

Rin tells Emi that she is a being worthy of happiness, and capable of finding herself in this, and begs her not to run away from it. Though Rin cannot say that Emi is now the only one left to her.

Emi ...relents, she lets Meiko embrace her, she lets the Nurse hold her, she lets herself be a daughter with a father again.

Emi lets herself be who she always wanted to be; a happy girl with a beautiful family.

As they all look up to the heavens, a little bit of light starts to shine purely through, and it just might have come from Heaven's gates.


Emi: "I'm sorry Dad, I'll try to be a better person, I promise."

Emi cries at her own words, but for once, she is at peace with herself. And for Rin, Emi's smile on her laughing face now, will never fade from her memory. If everything else becomes tatters of canvas, there is at least this one beautiful picture that Rin can fondly remember, painted eternally in her heart.



As distance with Hisao silently grows and dreams of him quietly dies, Rin's mind slowly regress into a state where there is no longer anything to paint, there is not enough ideas for her to put down, not since she was lifted up and dropped by Hisao.

Even Emi has moved out of the dorms and back into her home, and gone back to her old school. Rin can not bring herself to dislike any of that arrangement for Emi is too precious to her, but she does sincerely welcome Hanako becoming her hallmate and partner in art class.

She welcomes even more the prospect of being alone in an attic, with nothing but her creations and Hanako's music to keep her company until her exhibition.

Dazed with depression of a dainty kind, perhaps Hanako and Rin weren't so different after all, something Rin notes in kindness as Hanako brought them oranges to practice peeling on. And eat too, Rin has a habit of forgetting that. Often times Hanako has to stay until Rin has eaten her dinner before taking the bus back to Yamaku's dorms, the attic can only accommodate Rin.

One lonely evening in this good new arrangement, while Hanako plays her electric violin and doesn't notice Rin leaving for a walk, the wayward artist starts to see the world in a light not typical of even her;

"The city streets come alive in harsh hushed sounds as darkness whispered itself over them, cars and cars drive and drive, the pulsing veins of a heart slowing in the moonlight's cold touch."

"I wander the wrinkles of the map, tip-toeing on the edges of monsters's tails. Maybe it's not so bad to be alone when no one can find you anyway. When no one cares if you live or die. In Emptiness, I drown. Before a truly dark night washes down without words."

"Ashes and ashes, thick and heavy, one solid mass. That was my night sky. A charcoal crushing a tiny red ant that is me. Every step I take is a black dot in history's white sands. The streetlights blinked to false life when I made it home."

And Rin does find something that forces us to think as coherently as she can, Rin has caught Hanako doing something to herself with one of Rin's paintbrush that would only be shameful to describe.

But too lonely to do anything remotely sensible, even for Rin, she kisses Hanako in the midst of it, asking her to pleasure her too.

This only sends Hanako in a frenzy, almost leaving before Rin hugs her, almost crying for Hanako to not leave her alone in the cold of a lonely death.

No one is an island, Rin needs someone to be herself, Hanako is someone she needs right now to be able to paint. There is nothing to paint but blackness when she is without someone to hold and hold her in return.

Hanako doesn't move nor answer for almost as long as it took for Rin to simply give up, and sadly let go. But Hanako doesn't leave. She stays with Rin, and helps her paint, as herself again. To try.. and Be herself again.

Hanako decides to sleep on the attic sofa tonight, Playing a lullaby as Rin rests her head on her lap and, for the first time; truly dream.



Act 3
-To Mend My Mind


It's not a sad day, when Lilly left her friends. Despite the tears and the goodbyes, from beloved Hanako and ..bewildering, Hisao.

She will return to them soon anyway, it's only temporary.

But when she does return, and "sees them again", as Lilly herself put, it will be all the more happier than if she doesn't leave at all, since she is undergoing an operation that will restore her sight.

Indeed, this is not a sad day at all, not in the least.


Her first day seeing again was one of unending joy and eternal relief. Her mother is the first brilliance she saw, and it was only right for Lilly to spend her first day in her arms again, just a gently cradled babe reborn again. Her head resting easy on her shoulder.

The next day or so.. Lilly doesn't quite adhere to the doctors' instructions to stay in bed, preferring instead to enjoy the garden outside and, at the sound of a rabbit running away, decide to catch it.

And she does! But it was skittish and trembling in her arms, Lilly can't help but think of Hanako, and give her heart into comforting the poor rabbit. Soothing it with kisses and comforting soft words, until the sun moved enough in the sky to tell her; it's time to go back.

Lilly carries the now calm and snuggling rabbit with her, but only earned herself an extension of her stay at the hospital and had to let the rabbit go.

But Lilly wasn't too upset at it, since Shizune and Hideaki came by one day to visit her. Shizune was more than happy to secretly reveal that she has learned to talk almost normally, with the help of a powerful 'audio-visual translator tool', something that Lilly instantly knows is another one of Hisao's many nosy and anonymous doings.

She almost lets slips of it to Shizune, but thankfully Shizune doesn't seem to notice anything, since her lip-reading is still not good enough to catch the more complicated words.

Shizune doesn't waste time using her new speaking talent to describe Emi's wedding to Lilly, and as she does, Lilly's imagination takes vivid hold of her;

Emi was dressed cheerfully than ever, and Very Cutely, according to Shizune, as she was the flower girl of the wedding.

Lilly imagines herself there, avoiding Emi's swinging arms almost haphazardly, but very happily, throwing the flowers about, while Shizune sits beside and narrating the course of events. Even Misha is there and keeping quiet. Crying with happiness, but pleasingly quiet to Lilly.

Rin is painting portraits of the scenes, near where Hisao and Hanako are playing the music for the wedding. They aren't.. professional, but they're good enough for Emi.

And indeed they don't falter a note, when Meiko enters the scene, and Hanako accompanies it with the most moving a capella of an uplifting hymn. Guiding in heavenly grace Meiko' steps to her husband-to-be.

With a little help from Hisao's uncanny preparedness, Emi is given the script to first ask in sacred confirmation her mother, then tearfully.. her father, if they accept each other, in damage and in health, in imperfection and in beauty.

Their softest two words ever uttered hit Emi emotionally to her knees, but she stood again on her feet and lifted the moment up to the very crux of the wedding; and clapped as her father brought Meiko into his arms for their first kiss, as Husband, and Wife.

Lilly wonders with her heart, if such feelings she harbours for Hisao could turn out true.


An answer falls into her lap one day, still a while before she returns, but long enough for her to consider her answers;

A complex but brilliant music box, hand-made by Hisao and Hanako was sent to Lilly as a surprise gift, and it was of such a delicate beauty that Lilly finally sees...

The love between Hisao and Hanako was confused with her own.
Lilly had seen in Hisao her English Teacher, the man she saw her love and future in, just as life took to darkening from an accident out of her own carelessness.

Lilly had planned to elope with her English Teacher, across the sea and maybe to Paris, where they'll find their happy home, lost and hidden away from the rest of the world. But day dreams in a chemistry class brought repercussions Lilly wasn't prepared for, as she blinded herself and almost her only friend who had kept Lilly's dark secret.

The English Teacher's relationship with Lilly was exposed, but quickly covered up. Both had to keep unimaginable distance to maintain their family's honours, but it was only in sorrowful vain and of unspeakable pain when Lilly heard her English Teacher had hung himself. His wife died in childbirth, bearing another man's child.

Brightly reliving the horror in the dark, after a long-distance conversation with her friends, a disillusioned Lilly finally says that it's only for the best; that she will never return again, not even to see their faces with her own eyes.

She will remain where she is, where she can keep herself from hurting Hanako and Hisao, and promises; Sincerely, that if God willing she will find for herself again; a new happy life.

There will not even be pictures sent to Lilly, for a mere polaroid will only betray to convey the person Lilly loved. She settles decidedly instead, for only the sound of a voice to remember each-of-them by.

The happy moments will not be lost in the dark to her, but carried on in to

A wish of good luck, and a wistful goodbye;

And it was over.


Lilly was gone forever



Act 4
-A Healing Heart


Hanako, a girl with a dark and tortured past, spends a cold night with Hisao.

These are her thoughts and their words;



the air grew darker than our hearts, but i catch myself too accustomed to the sadness, that i could smile.

"remember when we first met?"

Hisao: "in the library? Yeah, Yuuko-"

"no, not that."

Hisao: "..., we were.., six? five?"

"i was six. you were five. Hanabi was.. two months old, i think."

Hisao: "..., I never understood what you were saying, Hanabi was crying in my ear,"

"you thought "Iwanako" was her name, when i was telling you 'my name is Hanako, this is my sister, please look after her for me'."


Hisao: "you promised.."

"you didn't want to take her, you kept pushing her back to me,"

Hisao: "until you promised you would ..marry me, in return,"

"i swore, on her life, i will look after you."

Hisao: "I should have stopped you then, I should have kept you from running back into the fire,"

"it was my choice. i Chose to go back, and die with my mother"

Hisao: "You were trying to Save her."

"maybe.. i don't know. i'm a bad person. i'm rather selfish."

Hisao: "You carried your mother as far as you could, before collapsing from the smoke."

"maybe i should have died then, life is meaningless when no one cares if you survive"

Hisao: "I Care. You Survived. Life is Not meaningless if you Survive. It Never is."



he takes my bad-hand and kisses the blood away, the blood called guilt, neither of us can ever seem to wash it away

i pull away from him, i don't deserve him, he doesn't deserve me. we both need to stop acting like-

Hisao: "children."

"huh?"

Hisao: "err, no, just.. I heard a story, a Chinese story,"

"hmm?"

Hisao: "just a.. story, about the 'Red String of Fate'."

"....., is that a manga?"

Hisao: "no.. well, maybe, I'm not sure, but no, I'm thinking about a story;"

"tell me..."

Hisao: "a boy once met a wise old man on a dark lonely road; the old man was seemingly curious about the boy and asked if the boy wanted to meet his future wife."

"..., go on"

Hisao: "the boy said there's no such destiny, but the old man explains that every husband and wife are tied by a 'Red String of Fate' since birth. That's how they find each other."

"you better not be making this up"

Hisao: "I'm not. The old man told the boy to walk further down the road, because his future wife is coincidentally; Right There."

"you're making this up."

Hisao: "I am not. The boy finds a little girl actually there, but not believing nor interested in his 'Future Wife', he threw a rock at her, making her cry and run into the dark."

"sounds like something you would do."

Hisao: "shutup, I'm not finished. Years later, when the boy grew up and had a good business going, he was to be wedded to someone he had never met before, which is quite common in Ancient China, where families decide every aspect of their children's marriage, even their spouses."

"I still think you're making it all up-"

Hisao: "On the wedding night, the boy lifted his wife's red veil, and finds her incredibly beautiful, but; is a little perplexed as to why she wore an ornament over her eye, he asks, and she explains that when she was young, a boy called her mean things and threw a rock at her, giving her the deep permanent scar which she hides with the ornament. The end."

"....., so....., the boy did meet his future wife"

Hisao: "yes"

"that's ..like a disney version of our story"

Hisao: "...., yes"





"i love you"


that is the closest my tears will ever reach his heart, but he pulls me into his warm embrace anyway,

and all i wanted was just to cry, for once; to actually cry with my one good eye,

and... Heal.







the end.





if this is still horseshit.

well... I don't even know anymore.

goodnight





And another thing, I'm not sure if either of you or anyone reading my fic realise that I actually went through a lot of unnecessary pains to reflect the general feel of Internetness in it, You know? It's sort of my way of thanking the Internet peoples for making this game possible, how do I put this...

I made Katawa Shoujo Re-Take to read like a Lotus Flower blooming out of the asshole of the Internet. Because that's how Katawa Shoujo itself came about...

oh shit.

now I see what went wrong.



DAMMIT!

[Oddball]

You have some tense issues, seemingly slipping from past tense to present quite often. I'm bad at that myself though, so I can't complain too much there. You also need to check your capitalization. The script fic aspects don't help much either.

Your detached style of omniscient narration gives me the impression that I'm reading the cliffnotes version of an actual story rather than reading the story itself.

I think your biggest problem though is that you're trying to make a statement rather than telling a story. Don't worry about pulling anything out of anything's ass and just tell the story you want to tell. Save your symbolic meanings for when you get better with basic storytelling.

You do have some nice ideas there, but the stye you resent them in drowns out any effect they might have.

[LordDarknus]

Hey, Many Thanks for posting again Oddball!

You have some tense issues, seemingly slipping from past tense to present quite often. I'm bad at that myself though, so I can't complain too much there.

Ah, that's okay. Wait what? It's meant to be like that, it's not going down the Stream of Time drop-by-drop, it's a Skipping Stone just touching the surface of it all, some things have already happened by the point you land at one "skip", .....so yeah. Sorry.

You also need to check your capitalization.

Not quite Sure, about What you Mean... but... Yeah. I'll Keep that In Mind.

The script fic aspects don't help much either.

Yeah, I get that a lot... I think it's fine though. I believe the Audience should get some imagination of their own while imagining the characters, instead of the writer bothering to describe... basically just people talking.

It'll get from 'Too many words' to 'Too Much words' very quickly and we have to go back and edit someone's position/reaction for the Littlest Reasons if we change just a Slight Bit Something down the conversation a few lines later.

I hate doing that.

Your detached style of omniscient narration gives me the impression that I'm reading the cliffnotes version of an actual story rather than reading the story itself.

It's a synopsis.

I think your biggest problem though is that you're trying to make a statement rather than telling a story.

I think Stories ...are In and Of Themselves; Statements. .....of; Feeeelings....

(or at least they Should be, otherwise... why bother? I'll end up relying on "interesting gimmicks" or something)

I wrote the Synopsis simply because I Do Not want those Ideas to go to the Dark Forsaken Land where the Horseshit-fics go to die, I mean; at Least let someone Else find the Ideas and use them in their fics, either wholesale or for inspiration, I don't care, the Ideas Must Survive. I Have Died In My Weekends For Them.

"My Ideas Cannot Be Deeeeead!"

Don't worry about pulling anything out of anything's ass and just tell the story you want to tell. Save your symbolic meanings for when you get better with basic storytelling.

ow.

You do have some nice ideas there, but the stye you resent them in drowns out any effect they might have.

awww, but I like my style.....



All in all seriousness, I think you're saying that my writing just really sucks and I need to go practice in a closet or something... err, a little harsh, but I think that's the point.

But you know... I don't care.
(not meaning to sound impudent)

I'm pretty sure I can write "normally" if I wanted, I just write flamboyantly, or crazily, or whatever, because that's how I see the world.

And I like how I see the world. It's never boring.

So screw me, I Care about getting the Feelings across, Yes. I'm not an idiot. That's the Whole Point of telling a Story.

But I Don't want to pass it along in a way that just isn't.. Me.

Unless I have to write for Money, or my Life, I don't think I'll change too drastically. But maybe I'll do something later, after seriously studying and considering the wisdom you've imparted to me here, Oddball.

Right Now, I have to go post a comment about a "Dick in a Box"...
http://ks.renai.us/viewtopic.php?f=52&t ... 35#p126012

and then go to sleep.

Goodnight.


And Thank You, Oddball.
I appreciate it.

[Dream]

Not to be rude, but it sounds like you think that "improving my writing style/skill my looking at things that aren't working or maiming it's potential, and fixing them" neccessary implies "abandoning who i really am" (Whatever the later means, but that is a whole separate matter) It's really not as black and white as that. Oddball's giving you very good advice and you would do a great disservice to yourself by ignoring it. On that matter, i would also recommend you check the "tips for fanfic writers" thread if you already haven't, some really good advice in there.

[LordDarknus]

Not to be rude, but it sounds like you think that "improving my writing style/skill my looking at things that aren't working or maiming it's potential, and fixing them" neccessary implies "abandoning who i really am" (Whatever the later means, but that is a whole separate matter) It's really not as black and white as that.

I don't think one can truly "abandon" who they are, it's incredibly hard to change oneself. I know that for a fact. What I meant was...

I'm not a Perfectionist anymore, not after playing Katawa Shoujo... and that.. well, that explains the huge suck with Re-Take there, but I'm still a Minimalist, a very Extreme one if you want to put it at that.

On that matter, i would also recommend you check the "tips for fanfic writers" thread if you already haven't, some really good advice in there.

I have read those tips, (I think) and they're pretty much the same everywhere; "Your style is abnormal LordDarknus, this is how you do it."

I'm not comfortable reading 'Lord of The Rings' despite it being accepted as Great Literature, and I seem to be the only one who is obsessed over Shakespeare's constant "lashing on the limits of language" to do things which the words were not invented for...

Basically; if I have to put into all into one dramatic line: "No one understands an artist, like how an Artist Understands the World."

Oddball's giving you very good advice and you would do a great disservice to yourself by ignoring it.

Also; I am Not abandoning Oddball's sound advice, I plan on Using up my ..Unused material from Re-Take and doing my last ...Take, on it. Well, it's just a little thing, but it will be an exercise to prove to myself or anyone that I really Can write "normally" if I have to.

Or if it pleases you.

The Audience is Always Right, After All.

And Thank You, Dream. I think youuu might have a Good Point about me losing myself there for a bit.

I tend to do that.

Sorry.


P.S. : I don't know when it'll be done, so it'll be out when it's done.

P.P.S. : Which means I'm gong to be offline for a while, while I lose some More sleep over it.

P.P.P.S. : Why Do I Do This To Myself???

[Helbereth]

I have read those tips, (I think) and they're pretty much the same everywhere; "Your style is abnormal LordDarknus, this is how you do it."

I'm not comfortable reading 'Lord of The Rings' despite it being accepted as Great Literature, and I seem to be the only one who is obsessed over Shakespeare's constant "lashing on the limits of language" to do things which the words were not invented for...

Basically; if I have to put into all into one dramatic line: "No one understands an artist, like how an Artist Understands the World."

Pretentious drivel. The day you call yourself an artist is the day you've become a hack.

Expressing yourself through words follows the same basic rules of any other medium. Just like you cannot paint without following the rules of color, or sing without recognizing the rules of melody, you cannot write expressively without following the rules of language and grammar. They're not nearly as limiting as you seem to think, and I'm disappointed you haven't realized that.

My suggestion -before you start writing- is to do a lot of reading. Start here if you're not interested in regular books; there's a wealth of material on this forum you can absorb, along with hundreds of thousands of words available to peruse on the associated pastebin (link is an archive listing): Here

If you want to find some of the better-written material, someone (not myself) has been making up a list of recommendations for a while that he adds to irregularly: Here

There's also this thread on the forums where a number of people posted their own recommendation lists: Here

As a final note; in the future, don't try to change the rules to suit your needs - at least not where language is concerned. Using the long-outdated words of dead playwrights is not going to garner favor among people who can't understand your writing because you refuse to follow the rules.

[Oddball]

Let's compare writing to ... oh let's say a car for example.

Now, if you know how a car works, how it's built, and what parts do what parts do what, you can start to modify it. You can replace parts with other things, remove things that you don't need, and replace certain parts with other things that will work better.

On the other hand, if you know nothing about cars, if you consider yourself "too good" for cars and insist on building or modifying one without any real knowledge of how they work, you're more likely than not going to end up with a pile of junk. There are rules to writing because those have been established as things that work. Learn what works, then you can modify it to what works for you.

"Everybody is wrong except me!" isn't a statement of artistic independence. It's a declaration of delusion.

[Catgirl Kleptocracy]

There is no right or wrong way to write fiction--unless there is.

If your goal here is to write what you want so that you get individual enjoyment out of the act of writing, then you're doing just fine with what you're doing. Good on ya.
If your goal is to write a story that is going to communicate something, and that audiences are going to continue reading, then there are techniques that work and techniques that don't. I wouldn't go so far to call them anything as rigid as rules (except for when I would), but Oddball's car analogy is spot on--some things work, and other things don't. Some things will make your story better, others will actively hinder it.

I applaud you for writing a story. I don't care why you wrote it. I don't care about its quality. You sat down and did it. Pat yourself on the back. However, when you write something up, as soon as you hit the 'post' button, you lose control of that story. It's posted on the internet for an audience, and the audience has every right to comment on it, positively or negatively. Since you posted the story up, I'm going to assume you were actively seeking an audience, and that this writing wasn't solely for personal enjoyment. There aren't any 'rules', but if you want to keep an audience, there are ways that work and ways that don't.

If this really was written for personal enjoyment, then you succeeded so long as you had fun writing it. Did you? If so, pat yourself on the back, and I'm happy for you. Beyond that, there isn't anything more to say.
If you're writing for an audience, listen to what Oddball and Helbereth are trying to say. Keep in mind, they're trying to help you. I'll help you out too, if you want. We can even find a way to keep your style--you don't have to sell your soul to write a 'normal' story that will successfully communicate with and engage an audience. But if you still don't care, I wish you luck. Thank you for sharing your story, regardless of what comments say, and I honestly appreciate that you're so focused on keeping your own personality in your writing. It's a good thing. That said, don't expect an audience to continue on with your story simply because it's true to your artistic vision. I don't mean to come off as harsh or elitist, but it is what it is. However you go on from here, good luck! And keep writing!

[LordDarknus]

I'll just keep my foot in my mouth from now on then.





(this takes place near the end of act4, before the part Hanako meets Rin again)

------------------------------

Playing the piano isn't a difficult propect, it's a mathematical matter of melodies to dance my fingers on the keys.

"My name is Hanako Ikezawa."

Pouring my emotions into rainfalls of colours on Hisao's black-and-white keyboard, I wished I wasn't so afraid to let him know that I'm far better than him at weaving music.

"Let me share with you this story."

But even lively songs will come to a dead end, as I learned again in acquiescing into the silence of an empty tea room.


Loneliness accompanies silence, it is the sting of such ever-potent oppressiveness that mists my eyes with wistful happiness, remembering those sunny memories of everyday jubilees that only play perfectly without present sorrows, in forgotten corners of times past.

I follow the sound of those jubilant singings, out into the hall and onto a path unknown, careful and taking heed to place my next step on the same tile Hisao did, long before such childish thoughts became a solitary game in a school of empty echoes.

The long path ends when my little smile barely begins, but whatever little thoughts of a happy memory I carried with me was taken cruelly, abruptly disappearing into the dark hollow mirror of deadness that is Hisao's dormroom door.


I shouldn't have to swallow my hopes and stifle my dreams when I finally knocked meekly on the cold wood, but an eternity of soundlessness still cut through my heart.

I wish to see him again, to hear his broken-hearted honesty and kiss his sad eyes to sleep. But begging him to let me through only drives my silly little wishes further into the dirt.

I want to walk away from this deceptive frame where my dreams die and despair drowns me, but I push my head into accepting this heavy wall Hisao put in front of me, while desperation has me holding back little sobs as I cry rattling the doorhandle.


But reality gives in as my thoughts give way. The door is not going to open. Hisao is pushing himself from me.

Is this normal for him? To be so heartless after we made love? To disregard the rebirth of our souls in the rain?

My bad-hand knocks one last time. With the weight of the stone that is my breaking heart. .....no, I kick the damn door.


The immediate cracking of locks flying open first struck out an apology from me, in fearing that I had splintered something. Only for my gaze to quickly redden to dark anger, in reflection of Hisao's own unforgiving stare thrown as a dagger.

But he turns away, and the darkness softens into sadness, and then just pure pain. A look of regret. Feelings I share and reflect, I try to hold his face but only grasped shadows of wind as he turned and left me at door, he didn't see me reach for him.

From a shining hope I had tried to reach my hands slowly fell, into almost-forgotten habits of nervous fidgeting. Hisao goes coldy back to his desk and acts as if I was a delivered furniture, closing himself away as I closed the door behind myself, entering his domain.


A flit of casualness has me bouncing a little from sitting on his bed, and the nonchalance continued as I simply start talking about my day. In making myself believe my own words amidst stifling sadness my eyes shifted to hope in thin air, outside his window where winds rustle.

I had talked myself dry and parched by the time I brought myself back to the room with him, coming down from clouds up in my head. And he hasn't moved a bit since the time we sat here together. What is he even doing? A pencil idles in his hand held over a long-overworked portrait of ...me.

I try to speak again, this time as myself. But he still doesn't hear me, as if forever lost in himself. My bad-hand threw him his own pillow, but the blow struck deeper than I would ever wish for;


He threw himself upright and sent the chair rocking precariously from the anguish exploding in his voice, almost screaming as he tears off his eye patch and shows me a bloodied left window into his soul, then rolled up his left sleeve and point damningly at the missing flesh.

Cleaved horridly when he tried to reach for Iwanako falling in front of a train, the reliving of it suddenly fractures again his skull when she pulled his arm out of instinct. And no matter how hard he presses his hands to his head he can never forget how Iwanako lived long enough to hear him crawl and whisper to her,

Whispers of truths never known.. that her name was Hanabi, my baby sister, whom I gave to Hisao when I myself was a child, before I ran back into our house to save my mother from the fire.


"Don't be afraid" were her last words to him, and he can't live by them no matter how strange and twisted he has become for it. Only more tragedy haunts us as he starts blaming himself for Lilly being lost at sea after regaining her sight, for Rin almost dying from a cold after sleeping out in the rain because she missed him.

He vehemently argues his intentions were pure and true, from anonymously purchasing all of Rin's paintings to have her recognised and accepted at a prestigious school, to paying for the experimental procedure to restore Lilly's sight.

But it all doesn't seem to matter, everything burns. Nothing he touches ever lasts; and to demonstrate he tears the beautiful portrait in half. No one he loved ever has a happy ending; but to stop himself from imagining me hurt he looks down to the ground, where tears melt the bad-half of my face on paper.


A wisp of wind traced us in our unspoken sorrows, touching along the floor and delicately putting the torn page back together as one. My 'Mona Lisa-smile' was intended for both of us.

Collapsing from dark weight over his heart, the man I love reaches but fumbles for a medicine bottle. Gripped by constrictions of inaudible pain, he was withered to his knees and into my arms swiftly catching.

I swipe off his stiff frantic hands, only hindering me as I remove his thick sweater vest and unbutton his shirt. But that only seemed to make things worse, he tries one last time to point at the muscle-relaxant he wanted, but before confusingly letting his head hit the floor, I had already accidentally knocked over the bottle to the back of the table.



KS: Re-Take
-Lost and Found



Unmoving as I wait, sitting without a thread of sane thoughts on the cold chair outside the hospital room, I stare at the tiles on the polished floor. They were ugly and dirty. Drawing me in to gaze upon the dust and filth that is my reflection on them.

First a gentle click is what whips my head to the opening door, then creaking fear opening into a bleak world I have to face summoned me to my feet, the doctor exits quickly but suddenly remembers my lingering presence. Not wanting to prolong he just decides to nod as I naturally enter the room behind him, seemingly he tries to avoid looking at me altogether.

I wonder how similar his behaviour was to what I'm doing; trying to look out the window as I approach Hisao on the bed. He's looking to the sky and the wind as well, so I don't feel awkward or foolish or rude. But I feel so regardless. For now I can only sit in silence as he doesn't even turn to see me here beside him.


He says something as I'm about to, we both stop as we start again our sentences, and he tells me to speak first. I tell him I'll go with him back to Shanghai, where he was raised after adoption. To Iwanako's parents' house. I'll stay with him there. For as long a time as we have. I promise.

His eyes try to find my only eye, but he can't lift his head out from the weight of what I said, he just reaches for my hand and holds it. And we both don't let go of each other.

"We'll be with each other", it's our silent promise, made against the hopelessness of a world that has forgotten you. A world that doesn't think you deserve to be happy. Our world.



How bewildering a change to witness; Hisao's make-up and contact lens and sleeve hides all his scars well, but he no longer talks freely of the insane and inane, he often did so and ruined the charm of his clever "mask", a mask that I secretly wish I could have.

But I appreciate this new persona Hisao wears; 'polite and quiet'. Despite our conversation seemingly suffering more and more each time we talk, running out of words too early or saying something we both regret. Though it's only me who's started stuttering again.

So I resign to silence and lean my weight slightly on him, as I watch him engrossed in trying to learn something by comparing the same brochures in different languages. Ostensibly just to look busy studying Italian so I don't bother him for conversation.


I think he really didn't like using so much money on private seatings, even if it means total peace and quiet for us. Given his rapidly worsening heart condition, we both Need time and space from other people. Lest social stress from inconsiderate passengers provoke him again, ...Hisao admittedly was never good with people in the first place.

The signal-lights flash and fished my thoughts out of oceans of daydreams. I unthinkingly buckle my seat-belt in obedience, and that's when it "clicked" to me; that I'm now actually going home with Hisao back to Shanghai. Finally meeting Iwanako's parents in-person. And seeing Rin again too, as she attends the Advanced Art courses at the same International School as Hisao went to.

I look out the window to find a city not too unlike a crowded Gotham, I say as much to Hisao who's the bigger Batman-fan, but he only mentions something about Chicago and urban architecture and bridges before falling quiet. I just pretend he's thinking about 'The Dark Knight' now, the only movie I ever saw in a cinema with him, and a few days right after my birthday.


As the plane imperceptibly jolts from a near-perfect touchdown on tarmac, Hisao mentions that pilots seem to appreciate praise for their smooth landings, as the skills and dedication involved are tremendous. This is his way of not making me feel bad, as we both patiently wait in a sudden sparse air of hollow silence as the other passengers disembarked first.

We are the last ones to leave, and actually meeting the pilots as we do. I stammer to remember what Hisao said to say but he finishes my halted words for me, pleasantly surprising a good "谢谢" (Thank You!) out of them as they hurried off somewhere where duty must still beckon them.

Might as well, that they didn't notice me too much. I fell from walking beside Hisao to just being an overgrown shadow, as we walk into thickening crowds of acute alienation. I'm now a near-helpless foreigner in the largest city in China, a thought that throws me into tightening shivers.


Distracting myself with the almost-cool way Hisao flags down a taxicab without even trying, I lifted at least my own luggage into the car trunk to unload guilt and worry for his heart, before we close the trunk to a good "thud" together in synchronised unison. Something we both smile to each other about, as we shyly board the taxi.

Hisao reads out the long address from a mental note and has us on our way to parts unknown, I try to keep to myself as they chat idly out of a less-stringent brand of asiatic politeness. Not understanding completely the ancient dialect Hisao somehow knows, I just convinced myself to admire this new historic-world of aged-sunlight and old-dust behind the safety of the passenger window.

From modern cars and company trucks segueing into almost-rustic vehicles and many many bicycles, I catch myself waving back to little children or senior citizens, since I'm now a foreign guest, intruding on this welcoming land that ..actually doesn't differ too much from Japan. It's not too great a change as I feared, and I find comfort and ease in my fears relieved.


Groaning whistles brushed past my ears, the taxicab's brakes are of such an ancient kind, I just can't help but be amused rather than annoyed when they woke me up, arriving at our destination just as my sleepiness had put me into Hisao's embrace.

A tiny laugh as he tries to reach for his wallet, then he almost wished he could kiss his money goodbye before handing them to the bowing driver. I let a little tiny laugh escape me too, while I busy myself with our luggage's unloading. Almost shrieking when the driver offered me his help, I just nod frantically as he laughs it off, not paying heed to me as I stand there like a horrific statue.

But I did make myself meet his gaze again, and he bows politely in return, before shaking Hisao's hand and starting off with his rickety taxi that more and more resembles a wooden wagon, taking its place in this painting of a scene where time forgot to move on.


There is still some walking to do, but not much. We have to navigate these little steps up the hill to reach Iwanako's house. The greenery's beauty around me is not as cleanly cut as the gardens I've been in, it's old and wild with secret stories untold and daring dreams unsung.

These are trees so large and steadfast, they must have witnessed men and women confessing their love under them, grown unchanging in watching over the couple's children play in leafy shade, and wished they weren't so jaded when one generation passes them and the next begin anew the wistful story of life itself.

I wonder which tree it was that Hisao and Iwanako played and slept under; Which one of you good sentinels watched over him and my sister? I give you my thanks. And yes, this is the prodigal Hisao, finally come home to... I nearly tripped before I could finish my silly train-of-thoughts, I quickly reassure him nothing's wrong and picked up my pace again.


It actually does tire me, more than I had hoped reaching Iwanako's house. Though if Hisao has any trouble, he's not showing it, being used to this much exercise may be what's keeping him going for so long. Or it actually may be what's thinning his heart day by day.

I discard these unwholesome thoughts, shaking them out of my head and admiring the somewhat-tall greyish white building that my sister had called home all these years. It would have been my home too.. but I made Hisao promise to never tell of my existence, Hanabi doesn't need to have be a constant reminder of the past.

Surprisingly, Hisao doesn't ring the doorbell, but instead steps on on unnoticed boulder and lets himself in over the wall. I was afraid some dogs would have come running and biting, or an alarm would blare sounding, but he just offhandedly explains that no one's home during the day; Mei Hua and Meng Hu (Iwanako's parents) are out running their restaurant, and Rin is still at school.


The driveway was paved in small red-and-black tiles, and one of them lifts to reveal a set of spare keys. Clever. It was all obviously very nostalgic to him, and Hisao savours every of his little habits of motion in opening the locks and front gate for me.

My entering was met with an arrest of emotions in turmoil, lesser and indecipherable thoughts troubling me with each step. I must have looked so lonely standing in the doorway, the light rushing in from behind me to illuminate this forbidden abode.

But he holds my hand and kisses me, temporarily stunning me to pull me into his and Iwanako's Shangri-La. A home I had hoped to Never soil with my presence, and yet.. can't ignore the importance of this sacred place. This is the home that would have been mine too, if I had let myself be known. If the world had not forgotten about me.


A swipe of a lonely shadow flicks my attention to the wooden staircase, that's set in the same classical-western style as everything around me. Hisao too turns to look when he sensed the figure at the top of the stairs, suddenly stopping himself from unpacking and rising rigidly to his feet.

Confusingly, Rin in Iwanako's hand-me-downs questions if she is dreaming, or whether we all are. But comes slowly down the stairs and into reality with us. Leaping at the last few steps into Hisao's arms, both of them trying not to cry after finding each other to truly be real in the world that's finally become lost to them.

The meaning of being with each other, this feeling of family that I didn't intrude upon, locked in a world of dark shadows and brilliant sunlight. Where in contrast of the extremes we find a single happiness in our shared loneliness, where we are together in the rain, snow and hail, and will die peacefully knowing our lives were not wasted alone... this is what made me feel at home.





It will be night soon, I was under orders to shower and stay clean, while Hisao does his damndest best to ensure not a single tiny blood-sucking mite was brought home with us. After his recounting of a rather terrible infestation experience with a hotel, I decide not to put up resistance at all.

But he was awfully quiet with his whole business, so it only serves to surprise when I heard something in the garage. I drifted from my guest room into a dreamy descent to the source of the rustling sound. This home has yet imprinted itself on me, but I let myself freely pretend I'm a curious child wondering around her home in the blues and orange of an unrealistic sunset's light.

Pushing open the door to the garage, I find Hisao almost moved to crying in ..admiring a car. It's in soft metallic grey with a black stripe, its angular shape emphasised in the cloud of dust thrown up when the tarp was pulled down. The garage lights flickering to life only served to highlight it's well-maintained frame and alert Hisao I've caught him ..doing something.


"my err, mistress" is what Hisao calls it, the "Toyota Celica Supra 1984 Mark-II P-Type" which he proudly recites. I don't understand boys and cars so I just say "that's nice". But he doesn't stop introducing me to "her" as he points out the custom gauge-computer and some other features he stole from Knight Rider.

Even Rin came to see and almost yawned with me as he goes on and on about the specifications, all without landing a single finger-print on her dainty gloss finish.
Then as soon as he was done and had carefully
rolled "her" "night gown" back on, he asks us if we want to see something else, we declare an immediate "No!" and quickly leave.

At least some of Hisao's previous rambling personality had survived this far, but I wonder if he was always so unhinged since he was little, or if it was something that changed in him after the, ..bad things that happened along the way in finding me again. My thoughts don't go very far before Iwanako's parents arrive home.


Apparently, as Hisao describes by just the sound of them pulling up; they drive a black Honda Civic 1999 Si Coupe, with "Red Vinyl Stripes!" and mean-looking "eyelid" covers on the lights, and indeed; they do. Although that's not at all what moves me, when I see for the first time; the two people who raised Iwanako for me.

I don't know if I should bow or cry, or hug them, or run away and hide, but they took the first steps and greeted me, introducing himself as 猛虎 (Meng Hu), and herself as 梅花 (Mei Hua). My mind spins in the night and tears start down my cheeks at their words. I barely believe this is happening, this.. most beautiful feeling in the world.

I don't deserve this kindness, I shouldn't be treated so warmly, but they don't hesitate to comfort me unconditionally, they held me and christened me 小花 (Xiao Hua), calling me family. It took years to have this heaven of happiness grace my heart, I only wish it wasn't flying past so fast.


We went back in as family; me, Hisao and Rin as children with parents again, Mei Hua delightfully asks us if we have any special requests for dinner since our tastes might not take to her chinese-style cooking but Hisao.. or 久夫 (Jiu Fu) as they call him, suggests the excellent dish of fragrant fried rice.

And we children sat and waited together at the table, while our mother prepares for us a warm dinner. Embarrassed yet overly happy for such a small thing, I smile at myself as I look to Rin, she's smiling too and trading random talks with Jiu Fu. Casually switching between English and the Mandarin dialect Rin picked up when she was orphaned in British Hong Kong.

Keeping up with two languages is hard enough, but two unhinged characters with intriguing personalities makes for a most surreal family reunion. Ahh, reunion. This feeling of being Lost and Found again, when the world remembers you exist and cherishes you for it. When the meaning of bliss hits me for the first time, I simply let myself smile in tears.







Someone's soft gasping screams tore my mind from sleep, only it's me waking from a nightmare. I find an unfamiliar sea of darkness hung over me, as Rin slept peacefully happy while hugging me like a bolster pillow. I smile in the cuteness of her snuggling me when I shifted, and savour all of the little affectionate moments I've shared with her before finding again the peace of sleep.



If this new life is a dream, I wish I would die in it before I wake up. ..now that's something Hisao would have said, with his bitterness at life increasing the more the days pass. We are nearing the time when the doctor said his heart would give out, and no pacemaker or miracle cure can regrow a lost heart.


I only notice the pensiveness whenever I catch him looking out the window, trying to recapture something he forgot to keep caged in. Maybe his will to live? His desires? His dreams? There is nothing I can do to help him in those moments, I've learned to keep away and let him find his own reasons to stay.


While Rin and I go out and spend time wandering the hill, playing games in our head and chasing childhoods found again. For these brief moments few and far between, I think I see myself and Hanabi as we would have been; happy and full of innocence, as if we finally forgive our lives for being cruel and could live on smiling with hope.


Hope that I share with Hisao at dinner time, as we talk about our days spent and adventures met. Even Meng Hu and Mei Hua recount snippets of humour in meeting quirky customers. But Hisao often falls quiet in not knowing what to say, since he either spent his time playing his old video games again or drawing or writing. Before crying himself to sleep and wishing for things that can never be.


I sometimes pick out his works to admire, they are ..bizarre, to say the least. Though every now and again when Rin makes an uncharacteristically specific request, Hisao does manage to produce something almost beautiful to witness. As if.. without others to live for, he has no reason to be, so he wastes away in formlessness.


I say that much to him, that without connecting with anyone anymore, he would truly die a most lonely death. My words don't seem to affect him, as he just keeps playing his game. Without much thought and passion, he continues mechanically, just ticking down the days when ashes and dust would reclaim him.



And the last days have all but come and gone. Now the doctor's prediction is to be tested.

He locked himself into his room, not telling me where the spare keys are kept. Rin doesn't know, and she's asleep without a care in the world. I find myself knocking softly at his door, once I'm sure the house is still in the ignorant bliss of night.

"Please.., please just let me," but let me what? Let me help? Let me in? Let me be with you? None of them sounds honest enough, since Lilly had said the same things and I ignored her regardless. Only when she caught me one time, doing something recklessly stupid did she shame me into accepting the blind angel's help.

While Hisao does many stupid things all the time, I can't think of one that would appeal to his sense-of-shame with. In fact, he throws his boisterous pomposity around so much, it doesn't seem like he Has any shame in him. And it all suddenly makes sense; How could he live or move on, knowing that he loved Iwanako? His own sister? And that he only hurts everyone he ever touched?


No shame, no pain. No person. Only someone who lives loudly unrestrained, and practically unstoppable in what he wants to achieve. The cost is losing humanity, becoming jaded and indifferent to the most horrible things in the world, and finding emptiness and a twisting mad monster in the mirror.

But I learned somewhere, somehow; that only with love, True Love, can there be Shame. Perhaps Adam and Eve had learned to love, and in that learning; found reasons to be ashamed. Their bare beautiful bodies suddenly exposed to each other, they must hide away until the time is right again.. to find and be with each other once more.

So I'll wait, until the time is right again. He'll hold on to life long enough to see beauty once more, I know it, he's persistent by that much.


I just have to be in a place where he can find me.



I think my new home means a lot more than I remember.





The End





Wanting - Hideaway
(Everything in the World)


You don’t ask much, but when you do
It’s always sincere, and true

You don’t talk much, but when you do
It’s rarely about you, but I can still learn something new

You know I’m gonna love you all the way
Though these three little words I never hear you say


I’m ready when you are

It’s not too late to start
I never wanna be apart

But we are, without love
I know you’re ready, yes you are

Because the red is in your heart

I know you’ll never be too far away
Because I’m your baby and you’re my hideaway



You don’t argue, but when you do
You always have good reasons to

You don’t break down, but the day you did
My heart dropped to the ground

So I stood there and cried along

You know I’m gonna love you all the way
Though these three little words I never hear you say


I’m ready when you are

It’s not too late to start
I never wanna be apart

But we are, without love
I know you’re ready, yes you are

Because the red is in your heart

I know you’ll never be too far away
Because I’m your baby and you’re my hideaway


You know it’s gonna take a lot to push me away

But time is running out I need to hear you say

I’m ready when you are

It’s not too late to start
I never wanna be apart

But we are, without love
I know you’re ready yes you are

Because the red is in your heart
I know you’ll never be too far away

Because I’m your baby and you’re my hide away



I’m ready when you are