Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 04/30/16 ~ recommitted to completion.

[BlackWaltzTheThird]

Interesting little aside you've got there. For some reason I was picturing her Dad as a bald man, so when you mentioned his hair all of a sudden my mental image shapeshifted into something weird. Also the "Blinky" nickname makes me think of Pacman. Notsureifwant.jpg.

unmoving and still

Seems a bit redundant, doulbing up on meanings like that. You don't say "the car was fast and quick", it's either one or the other.

[Total Destruction]

Goddamn. Lots to process here. I gotta stop slacking these updates.

Gotta say I enjoyed the hell out of them, and further analysis as time and sleep permit, hahah.

LOOK

[Helbereth]

For some reason I was picturing her Dad as a bald man

Well, I never described him at all, so that's only natural, I guess. Why bald, though?

Also the "Blinky" nickname makes me think of Pacman.

It's sort of supposed to. Aiko's eyes are sort of a blatantly obvious feature, hence 'two-toned stare', and the idea of a cute nickname based on her eyes seemed appropriate. Also, my sort of perfunctory background story for her dad includes an infatuation with arcade games.

Goddamn. Lots to process here.

Well, if you stopped by more often you wouldn't be so overwhelmed!

I digress...

[BlackWaltzTheThird]

For some reason I was picturing her Dad as a bald man

Well, I never described him at all, so that's only natural, I guess. Why bald, though?

No idea. He's gotta be old-ish I guess, and old blokes tend to be bald or balding. Also most of the male members of my family are bald. Might have something to do with it. Shit, I guess I'm gonna be bald too. I'd better enjoy my luscious golden locks while I can.

[Helbereth]

For some reason I was picturing her Dad as a bald man

Well, I never described him at all, so that's only natural, I guess. Why bald, though?

No idea. He's gotta be old-ish I guess, and old blokes tend to be bald or balding. Also most of the male members of my family are bald. Might have something to do with it. Shit, I guess I'm gonna be bald too. I'd better enjoy my luscious golden locks while I can.

Dude, her dad is only like 35-36 in this timeline; while Aiko is just barely 9. That seems young, to me, for baldness.

Then again, my grandfather was bald as a grape before he hit 30, so I guess that's not totally off-base.

[Gilrond]

Dude, her dad is only like 35-36 in this timeline; while Aiko is just barely 9. That seems young, to me, for baldness.

Then again, my grandfather was bald as a grape before he hit 30, so I guess that's not totally off-base.

I have a good friend, 28 years old, with little to no hair on his head. It's not common, but it happens.

[Helbereth]

Lo and behold, a new chapter! Doth mine eyes deceive me?

Okay, enough of that.

Well, I'll admit, I've had some writers block over the past month. More like writer's fatigue, really. I have endless ideas and an outline to reference, but I haven't had the ambition to sit down and write at much more than a snail's pace. Still, I've been slowly working at it and managed to shear out a complete chapter.

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Chapter 24 - Shenanigans

Distant chatter rouses me from a heavy slumber, and I find the darkness before my eyes somewhat disconcerting. There's faint light creeping at the edges of my vision, but the back of the couch and the blanket covering my head serve well to keep it at bay. Maybe it's better that way, considering the slight headache thrumming at my left temple. Last night is somewhat of a blur, but I remember the wine, Kenta's bewildered look, Shizune's evasive behavior and... wait, there was something more important than all of that. Hazy images run through my mind as I stare into the darkness and start to notice how warm I feel.

Wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, my arm is asleep, my hair is stuck to my face, and I think there might be a broken spring under the cushion digging into my back. However, I'm on my side facing the back of the couch, so it can't be a broken spring. Groaning a little, I reach behind me to try and find the source of the discomfort, and I get a hand on something that feels like a warm blanket. Running my hand along the solid object, I realize that it's moving slowly up and down and I can hear soft breaths somewhere close behind me.

Wait, that isn't a blanket!

Panic overwhelms me and I throw my hand up, toss the blanket away and roll over to stare, bleary-eyed and shocked, at the sleeping face of my sweater-vested boyfriend. The chattering voices stop suddenly and, realizing their source, I quickly grab the blanket and pull it back over Hisao and myself, hoping they won't notice that I've moved.

“She's awake, I saw her move~!” Amaya's chipper tone leads the footfalls as at least three people step around in front of the couch. Maybe they'll go away if I don't move, but I doubt Amaya will be fooled; she has seen me fake sleeping before.

The blanket is torn away, and I put on my best sleep face, but it's hard not to laugh with people staring at me like this, not to mention having Hisao's hot breath tickling my neck. If I try real hard, maybe I can actually fall asleep in this position, but Tadao's frustrated grunt indicates I won't get that chance.

“Wait~!” Amaya says, apparently to Tadao, “I got a better idea~!”

Oh, that can't be good.

A few seconds pass while I hear some whispering, and giggling, coming from Amaya and someone else; I imagine it's either Kenta or maybe Misha - they both have a rather girlish whispered laugh. Although, I'm certain Misha's booming laughter would have already been beating against my one good eardrum, so I'm pretty sure it's Kenta; it's hard to tell with my good ear stuffed against the cushion. There's a pause and a few more hushed whispers, but then I start to understand their plan as I can feel Hisao getting closer. Someone's finger presses against my chin, and I'm forced to let my face go slack as they're apparently pushing our heads together.

Hisao's limp lips press against mine, which is a somewhat strange sensation by itself, but then I feel his hand being placed on my hip and I nearly lose my composure. Deep within me, there's a voice screaming to just give up the facade and wring the neck of whoever came up with this embarrassing plan; probably Amaya. However, it's not so bad. They can have their amusement at our expense; I'm willing to play the fool for my friends.

“That's perfect~!” Amaya chirps with a giggle, “hold it just like that~!”

Then I hear a camera click and a bright flash beams through my eyelids.

“What the hell!?” I bark, sitting up on my elbow and rubbing my eyes, trying to find the source.

It was probably Kenta.

When my eyes finally adjust, I'm bewildered by the sight before me. Rather than Kenta, it's Yoko wielding the camera, grinning sheepishly. With Hisao blocking my way, and my arm being asleep, I can't make much of a chase, but I do manage to crawl over his sleeping form and fall gracelessly to the floor.

Half-awake, I start crawling toward her, smiling despite my ire. Yoko giggles and backs away a few steps as a pair of feet interrupt my pursuit.

“Morning, Swimderella~!” Amaya chirps, “that should look great in the yearbook~!”

“I'll kill you!” I yell, but it's an empty threat. Yawning the grogginess away, I manage to roll up on my knees, then sit against the couch. Amaya steps over to Yoko, apparently to inspect the picture. Both of them shoot me giddy looks, to which I respond with a half-hearted glare.

Hisao stirs and blinks, apparently wakened by my protest. “What time is it?” he mumbles.

Having no idea myself, I shoot him a crooked smile and reply, “Half past a freckle.”

“It's just after six in the morning,” Tadao remarks.

Hisao groans and rolls over to face me, grumbling, “Aren't we on vacation?”

“There's coffee and some croissants left,” Tadao says, ignoring the question.

Strangely, as I sit beside the couch and lazily look around the room, I realize I'm not really that tired. After the late start yesterday and the early night, I actually feel pretty well-rested. There's still a dull headache over my temple, but the numbness in my arm has faded, and the smell of coffee has started to brighten my expression. Nudging Hisao's leg with my elbow, I slowly stand and stretch.

Turning a tired smile down at him, I reach for his hand and start pulling. He groans in protest, but, after some tugging, I manage to get him up to a sitting position and swing his legs out over the floor. Sitting beside him, I rustle his messy hair and poke his ribs. “You're not sleeping this vacation away, Swooner,” I state, narrowing my eyes at him. “We have a swimming schedule to maintain,” I add with a giggle, “we can't let you get out of shape.” His response is to fall over sideways, groaning as he goes, landing in a heap against the arm of the couch.

“He gets a brief reprieve,” Amaya interjects, “Aiko and I have things to discuss first.”

Spectacular.

Taking me by the hand, Amaya leads me toward the bedrooms without another word. Glancing back, I see Hisao sitting up again, watching us leave with a curious expression, but we're quickly out of sight. While I think I have some idea what she plans to talk about, I'm not going to give anything away this time; she'll have to ask the right questions. Last night's events were going to lead to this conversation one way or another, and postponing it would just make it worse; I'd rather get it out of the way.

Apparently, the bedroom is still occupied by a snoring Misha, so Amaya leads me into the bathroom and closes the door. Almost immediately, her giddy smile turns into uncontrollable giggling. Unsure what all the laughing is about, I lean against the wall and set a bewildered stare on her. Once her fit subsides, she snaps a cold look on me that could wilt a banzai tree; it's startling enough to make me flinch.

“So, how was it?” she inquires, a giddy edge in her voice.

How was what?

My blank expression, and lack of reply, spurns her to iterate on the question. “Was it good? Bad? Did he know what he was doing? Did you-” she stops, seeing she horror on my face, “he didn't hurt you did he?”

She thinks we...?

“What the hell are you talking about?” I demand.

“On the beach, dummy~!” she replies, nudging my shoulder with her elbow, “Kenta told us all~ about how you came back in his arms all sleepy and happy.”

This is not exactly the conversation I was expecting.

“We didn't-” I start mumbling incoherently, “I didn't... He- We-”

Usually I'm better at forming words, even this soon after waking, but I'm so caught off-guard by the apparent direction of the conversation that I can't even put two words together. Amaya's face is screwing up with indignation, but it's really her misinterpretation at fault; or Kenta's, if I understand her source. Anything I may have done, or Hisao may have done, has nothing to do with whatever demented thought process brought her to this conclusion.

Well, maybe it does.

“We didn't do that!” I blurt finally, making sure to maintain eye contact.

She's silent for a few moments, looking like she's ready to dispute my claim, but I think the directness of my statement is working. If there's anything I know about Amaya, it's that she's really good at detecting blatant lies. Usually I can fool her with misdirection, but I'm staring straight into her eyes. The wicked grin she displayed sinks into a contemplative frown as she apparently realizes I'm not being dishonest.

Another thought hits me as I realize there are several other people in the house, all of which would have seen Hisao and I asleep on the couch and perhaps wondered what happened. Amaya will believe me, and I can probably trust Tadao and Kenta to understand my sincerity, but, if everyone thinks the same thing they did, I'm not sure they'll all be quite so forgiving.

Is that what Yoko was giggling about?

Grasping her shoulder to pull her, and myself, back into the conversation, I whisper a difficult question, “Does everyone think that?”

“No,” she replies quickly, “I assumed.” Shrugging, she shoots a look toward the door and whispers, “I may have told a few what I thought, but... if you really didn't-”

“We didn't,” I say firmly.

“Fine, sorry!” she says, “what the heck did happen, then?”

Staring back at her for a few moments, I realize there are a few things I need to recall before I can accurately tell the story. The little headache pounding on my temple isn't helping matters, either. Still, I remember enough to give her the basic outline. “We took a walk,” I explain, “I think I had a dizzy spell and fell on him again,” hearing that makes her grin, “and he carried me back.”

Apparently, judging from the mockingly raised eyebrow, my story doesn't quite meet her expectations. “That's it?” she balks, leaning back and crossing her arms, “sometimes I think you don't deserve to have a boyfriend.”

Her jest hits me strangely, causing me to frown instead of laugh. Somewhere deep in the back of my mind, there's a little gremlin of doubt whispering that what she said is right; I don't deserve a boyfriend. Slumping back against the wall, I can see Amaya's worried look, and I don't want her to worry. “Just a headache,” I remark, assuaging her concern, “little too much wine, I think.”

Giggling, she smiles brightly and remarks, “Tadao spent a couple hours in the bathroom this-morning~!”

“He drank almost a whole bottle, though,” I reply, smirking derisively, “I only had a few glasses.”

“I stopped after one,” Amaya says proudly.

“Yeah, and I ought to know better,” I reply, reaching up to rub my temple.

“Maybe a few aspirin?” she suggests. My raised eyebrow is enough response for her. Shrugging, she points toward the shower. “Shower should help,” she says, opening the door. Heading through it, she turns back and promises, “I'll save you a croissant~!”

“And coffee!” I yell as the door shuts.

“Sure~!” she replies, “and I'll even make sure the Swooner doesn't walk in on you again~!”

Her giggling makes me consider yelling something in response to that, but I hear the bedroom door close before I can think of something appropriate. Chasing after her is an option, but I'm not really worried. Even if she did try, I don't think it's likely Hisao would go along with her designs.

Right?

After the shower, my headache is mostly gone, and a nice breakfast finishes it off soon after. Tadao and Hisao apparently decided to head out for that swim without us, but that gives Amaya and I some alone time with Yoko. Sitting outside around the patio, we prod her for details about last night, but all she's willing to say is that she enjoyed the evening. Amaya tries to get more out of her, but, seeing Yoko getting uncomfortable, I hold her back.

Whatever else they might have talked about, I'm starting to think Yoko has more wrong than just feeling a little like an outcast. As much as I think being included has helped, she remains reticent and somewhat aloof. While I'm sure she really did enjoy spending time with Kenta, I don't think that's even scratching the surface of whatever is really bothering her. Asking her about it with boisterous Amaya around probably wouldn't go well, so I reserve my questions for another time.

I'm worried about her, but I don't quite know why.

When the boys get back, they both decide to head inside and torture Kenta a little. Apparently he drank himself into a stupor and spent half the night hugging a porcelain shrine. Amaya tries dragging me along to watch, but I'm content to spend some quiet time on the patio. As if sensing that I might want to ask her more, Yoko gets up and heads inside shortly after, but I'm fine with that; it can wait.

We'll be heading back to Yamaku by bus sometime after dark, and I want to spend some time doing absolutely nothing. Despite being on vacation, I feel like I've been more stressed about this whole expedition than I was before Tanabata. When we get back, the rest of the week is going to be a series of strenuous days spent cramming for and taking final exams, and I'd rather go into that feeling rested.

Although, with a house full of people, the idea of spending some time alone in the middle of the day is a fleeting dream. Not long after the morning fog lifts, I'm greeted by a distinct, “Wahaha~!” Wearing a giant pair of pink-rimmed sunglasses that seem vaguely familiar, and a long, bright yellow sun-dress, Misha comes bounding down the wooden steps carrying what turns out to be my laptop.

“You promised~!” she reminds me, referencing the conversation we had on the bus, as she pushes the device into my hands. Smirking and shaking my head, I open the directory and boot up the pirated game, handing it to her as the title screen appears.

Watching her play as she lounges in the chair beside me, I find myself amused at how quickly she gets absorbed. Knowing so little about Misha, I probably shouldn't be surprised. Somehow I never thought she'd be into video games, but I'm not going to complain. That loud mouth of hers might actually be effective at getting some of the puffed-up hyper-nerds to shut up while I'm sniping them from afar.

Assuming she'd be interested...

When Shizune comes down to join us, I'm a little apprehensive about whether she'll be annoyed, but she hardly seems surprised. Dressed down in blue overalls with the pant legs rolled up to her knees, and apparently borrowing Naoko's wide-brimmed hat, she sits in the chair on the other side of Misha with her own laptop. Raising an eyebrow at me, she moves to make a comment, but instead just shrugs and sinks into the chair. Putting her feet up, she opens her computer and starts typing.

While Misha repeatedly restarts the game, my curiosity overwhelms me and I get up to go sit by Shizune. From her smirk, I think she knows what I'm about to ask, but I go ahead anyway. [Does she play video games a lot?]

Rolling her eyes a little, she shoots Misha a quick glance before responding, [Before she came to Yamaku, she and her brother did – a lot.]

I didn't know she had a brother.

[You know more than you're telling me,] I sign, giving her a pensive look.

[There isn't much to tell,] she explains, [but it's not my place to say.]

The apologetic shrug she offers is a little cryptic, but I suppose it's not right asking Shizune. Instead of probing for Misha's reasons, I shift gears and start to ask, [I didn't know she liked to play, or I would have-]

Holding up her hand to halt my question, she replies, [She used to get distracted in her studies, so I convinced her to stop, but I don't hold it against her,] she smiles coyly and adds, [or you.]

Not wanting to delve too deeply into just how much she knows about my pointless extra-curricular activities, I let the subject drop. She seems content to continue typing, and I believe what she said about not holding it against either me or Misha. The Student Council room has a whole closet dedicated to board games, and everyone knows most of them were contributed by Shizune. Everyone has their little vices, I guess.

As the morning wears on, I notice the breeze we enjoyed for the past two days has died down a lot, and it leaves the midday heat to hang in the air. When the shade from the bungalow turns, and the sun starts peeking over the roof, the temperature quickly starts to spike and all three of us decide to head inside. Misha hands my laptop back on the way in, smiling and thanking me for letting her try the new game.

When we step in, Amaya greets us with a cheerful, “Hello~!” but it sounds a little forced. The tone doesn't seem directed at us, though, but rather the group in the kitchen.

Around the kitchen counter, Nobuo is apparently planning something with the three boys while Amaya and the other girls are sitting in the living room. Hisao waves at me, and Kenta holds up a limp hand, but Tadao steps forward and grunts, “Manly business! Move along, ladies!”

“Wahaha~!” Misha laughs, striking a commanding pose with her hands on her hips.

Shizune looks to me, but I just shake my head and roll my eyes. Turning back to Tadao, I hold up a finger to start a protest, but I decide against bothering. Dropping my hand to my side, I start walking toward the living room. Shizune follows, apparently coming to a similar conclusion. Misha giggles and trots along with us, apparently amused by the seriousness in Tadao's tone.

“Don't mind them,” Amaya says as I find a seat on the couch.

“Indeed,” Kenta agrees, apparently hearing her dismissive comment, “us men are deep in the planning stages and should not be disturbed!”

“You're already disturbed enough as it is~!” Amaya retorts, not missing a beat.

Sighing dramatically, Tadao stomps toward the door, “Come, men, we have a town to pillage!”

“And a market to raze?” Hisao adds, sounding strangely confused.

“Pillage? Raze?” I whisper, looking toward Amaya.

As Tadao steps out, Amaya turns to me and replies flatly, “They're planning to cook outside,” not bothering to lower her voice, “or, more accurately, they plan to have Nobuo cook outside.”

“Yes, and for that we'll need meat!” Kenta booms, marching out the door with Hisao in tow.

Nobuo stops at the door and sighs, jingling his keys impatiently. “We'll be back,” he states, “tell my sister to get some marinades prepped.”

Misha relays his message, which makes Naoko roll her eyes. “Oh, don't worry Naochan~! I'll help~!” Misha chirps, following her into the kitchen.

Content just to hang around and maybe watch some television, I sink down into the couch. However, apparently Shizune has other plans in mind. Snapping her fingers to get everyone's attention, she beckons the remaining four of us toward the door. Amaya and I share a glance and Yoko shrugs, but we all notice she's not in any mood to be ignored.

Once we've all turned our attention and started making our way over, she smirks and points at me; evidently I'm stuck translating. [Today is Sea Day,] she signs proudly, [and an excuse to celebrate! Have any of you been camping?]

The excited look in her eyes is probably enough emphasis, so I turn to the other two and ask her question, “She wants to celebrate for Sea Day and wonders if either of you been camping before.”

Amaya shakes her head while Yoko nods, but both seem confused; no less than myself, really.

[That's fine,] Shizune continues, smiling broadly, [all you'll need to do is find some wood.]

[A campfire?] I ask, looking for clarification.

[No,] she replies, [a bonfire!]

“Now why didn't I think of that?” I wonder aloud. Amaya tilts her head at me and Yoko holds out her hands, expecting me to elaborate. Instead, I nod toward Shizune and wave them along to follow.

She leads us outside and, after stopping at the little equipment shed to pick up a pair of thick, burlap bags, we follow her down toward the beach. Scanning along the tide line as she goes, her attention eventually fixes on a particular patch of sand surrounded on three sides by grassy hills. Using her heel to gouge some lines in the sand at the center of the half-circle, she outlines the base for the fire pit, then stands in the center.

[We'll need to circle it with some large stones,] she explains, pointing around her feet, [but I saw a big pile of them down the beach last night,] she adds, pointing down the beach. Holding up the two bags, Shizune tosses one for me to catch and nods toward the other two girls.

“Time to build a bonfire,” I finally say, smiling at them in earnest.

Yoko just nods, but Amaya is more vocal. “Aha~!” she beams, smiling broadly, “is she volunteering as kindling?”

In the interest of not sparking an argument, I ignore her question and Yoko's responding giggle. “She saw some rocks down the beach last night,” I say, holding up the bag, “I think she means for me to help get those while you two hunt down some driftwood.”

Amaya giggles and starts climbing up the hill. “I bet I'll find more than you, bean-pole~!” she taunts, smirking over her shoulder. In response, Yoko just sighs and rolls her eyes, heading off in the other direction. While they're getting started competing over sticks, I nod toward Shizune and beckon for her to lead us to the quarry she mentioned.

[You're sure we can have a fire?] I ask, but all she does is shrug.

[It's easier to apologize than ask permission,] she replies. Her logic seems borne of convenience, but I'm looking forward to a nice campfire, so I decide not to argue.

While we're gathering stones, it's hard to converse with Shizune, so I reminisce to myself. Uncle Aki used to have to grease a few palms to let us have a campfire, but nobody ever really complained. The few neighbors he had were usually fine with a little smoke, and it wasn't unusual for it to draw attention and become the center of a late-night party.

That was among the few times Dad was ever allowed to do the cooking, so Mom used to take me aside and pluck on a mandolin while I sang; Midori usually just listened. Deep into the night, we would sit around the fire, bickering and poking fun, singing songs and retelling old stories. Often we joked about how off-key Dad's singing tended to get after a few drinks, but, when he harmonized Mom's melodies, it didn't matter.

My parents always seemed happiest on those fire-lit nights. Even in the few visits after Dad's condition started affecting his mobility, sitting around a campfire is when I got to see how well they got along. Despite everything else, the time we spent together as a family, away from the wider world, always remain happy memories.

When we get back to the campsite, there are two distinct piles of wood waiting for us, but Amaya and Yoko are nowhere to be seen. Apparently, they're taking the little competition seriously and Shizune remarks it's probably best if we not disrupt their piles, something I agree with completely. While waiting for them to return, we set about arranging the fist-sized white stones around the area she had marked.

The few times I've actually worked with Shizune, I've always been impressed by how much she throws herself into whatever she's doing. The expectations she has for others is only surpassed, I think, by what she demands of herself. Even when she's completely buried under an extensive backlog of paperwork, or stuck assembling a dozen wooden stalls for the festival, or doing something as simple as building a temporary fire pit, she attacks the work with a determined smile.

Of course, her tenacious determination is often misinterpreted as forceful belligerence, which is why she and Misha were the only two left on the Student Council; until Hisao came along. Personally, I didn't have the time to devote to duties beyond representing my own class, but most others simply didn't understand Shizune's intentions. Maybe the blame for that falls on both parties, though. Shizune isn't spectacular at communicating her ideas, and it seems most people assume the worst in others.

Once she's satisfied with the arrangement, she stands and starts dusting off her overalls while peering around, probably looking for Amaya and Yoko. Catching her attention with a wave, I remark, [Amaya probably has them trekking half way to Hokkaido.]

[How about a break, then?] she suggests, turning to walk toward the grass.

Remembering the conversation we had yesterday, I realize she hasn't been acting like her normal self over the weekend. When we hit upon a subject she didn't want to discuss, she put on a grin and left the room. Normally, when confronted with a difficult topic, Shizune goes on the offensive and forces people to convince her she's wrong. Last night, though, she completely bypassed the challenge; instead heading outside. At the time, I was more concerned with what had caused her to leave and hadn't noticed how unusual it seemed.

Sitting down beside her, I try to keep my focus elsewhere, but she notices my repeated glances after a few minutes. Settling an inquisitive look on me she leads, [Something on your mind?]

Startled by her question, I fidget and smile sheepishly. The question on my mind seems like one that she just doesn't want to answer, so I have to think of something else to ask. Her look starts to sour as she waits for me to think of something, so I just ask the first thing on my mind, [Have you always been so driven?]

It's phrased rather poorly, but I think she understands what I really mean. Leaning forward against her knees, she pulls off her little wire-frame glasses and smiles with a wistful edge. [I get it from my dad,] she says, though her face immediately turns to a grimace, [he's kind of a jackass.]

Somewhat shocked by the admission, I look away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. When I look back she's resting her head sideways, smiling again. After a few moments, an apologetic looks crosses her face and she quickly adds, [Sorry, I didn't mean to-]

Cutting her off with an upraised hand, I shake my head and smile. [I'm just surprised you'd say that is all,] I reply, [I've never met your dad, but he can't be that bad.]

[He's not,] she admits. Swaying slightly, her expression settles on a nostalgic grin. [But he's very demanding. He's obstinate, unrelenting and eccentric; conversing with him is more like an interrogation,] she shrugs and smirks as she adds, [but I love him anyway.]

[You've never really mentioned him,] I remark, [he sounds a little like my mom. She's always telling me what I should do, even though she barely has her own life together,] I add with a smile, [she taught me about camping, though.]

Smiling at that, she shakes her head and shrugs. [He taught me how to 'survive in the wild',] she signs, nodding toward the fire pit, [but I still have to pass notes or talk through an interpreter with him.]

Eighteen years with a deaf daughter and he never learned to sign; that can't be right. [He never learned to sign?] I ask, shooting her a confused grimace.

[For most of my childhood, he was convinced I just refused to talk,] she replies, pursing her lips with disdain, [took me to doctors all over Japan, who all told him I was deaf and mute, but, like I said; obstinate.] Grinning, she holds her hand up as if to stifle a silent giggle.

Shaking my head, I can't help chuckle a little at the idea someone could be that blind. Somehow it makes sense, though. If her dad really is that eccentric, it explains why she has trouble communicating with normal people. How she and Misha ended up as friends is still a bit of a mystery, but, then again, Misha isn't exactly normal either.

Before I can explore that line of questions, I see Shizune perk her head up, peering over the grass. Turning to see what caught her attention, I see Yoko; at least I think it's Yoko. Her spindly arms are wrapped around an impressive bundle of sticks that hides most of her face, but the trailing locks of red hair are indication enough.

“Need help with that?” I ask, standing to start walking toward her.

“No, I'm fine!” she protests, “besides, I forfeit the bet if anyone helps!”

Shizune moves to offer assistance, but I catch her elbow. She turns a surprised look on me, but quickly shifts to a wry smirk when I explain Yoko's bet. Giving her a wide berth, we watch as she shuffles over and heaves the bundle down onto one of the piles.

Heaving a sigh and wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, she sets her eyes on the other pile and absently remarks, “She's not back yet.”

“Nope,” I say, “we came back and had time to build the pit,” I point toward the stone circle and grin at Shizune, “you're the first one back.”

Shizune waves to get my attention and asks, [What was the bet?]

Yoko answers, “Small pile has to skinny-dip tonight.”

And she agreed to that?

Dumbfounded by that revelation, it takes me a few seconds to start translating for Shizune. When I finish, she turns toward Yoko and flashes her bobcat grin, signing, [Brave.]

“Tell her it's more stupid than brave,” Yoko laments, “I'm gonna go hunt down some more just in case.”

Watching her depart, it dawns on me that she's apparently been picking up on sign pretty fast. Shizune confirms that with a prideful nod, though she admits it probably has to do with being around signing so much in class. Ito translates everything he says into sign most of the time, and the majority of 3-1 students are deaf or partially deaf, so a lot of them use sign language frequently. Even without knowing what they were saying, she probably picked up on some signs and the lessons are just filling in holes.

[You think she'll really do it?] Shizune asks, [or Amaya even?]

All I can do in response is shrug; I really don't know.

Lately it seems Amaya is having her own little sexual revolution, but she's never been an exhibitionist. However, if those are the terms of the bet, I could see her grudgingly going through with a little humiliation. Yoko, on the other hand, is mostly a mystery where anything like that is concerned. Her shyness is probably the clearest indicator, but I don't think she would have agreed if she weren't ready for the possibility of losing.

Amaya reappears a few minutes later, lugging a comically large bundle of dry logs, complaining about the heat. After adding to her pile, she quickly realizes Yoko's is still larger and sets off to hunt down more, shouting back, “Don't let her cheat~!”

Apparently we've been recruited as referees.

While the afternoon sun slowly makes its way across the sky, some passing clouds offer Shizune and I a brief respite from the climbing temperature. Whiling away the time in relative silence, neither of us continuing the previous conversation, she stares out at the ocean while I lay back and close my eyes. Focusing on nearby sounds allows me to hear some seagulls; probably heading back to their roosts after the noontime rush. In the distance, I can hear a buoy bell chiming in time with the rolling waves, and the hum of a passing motorboat; or maybe a jet-ski.

The seaside cacophony has always helped me relax. After the accident when I lost my hearing -when I almost drowned- I had horrifying nightmares. Dad used to rush into my room, no matter the hour, to help me get back to sleep, but he couldn't fight them off completely. When we went to the beach, he noticed that the nightmares actually subsided. Although it didn't make sense, he made an audio recording of the beach-side one night and gave me a CD to use in my bedside radio; it worked surprisingly well.

Years later, the seaside symphony still has a lulling effect and, if not for Shizune's sudden shuffling, I could easily fall asleep here. Noticing my slow reaction, she snaps her fingers to get my attention and I sit up quickly. Apparently Yoko is back, looking over Amaya's pile, smirking at her apparent advantage.

Standing and stretching, I notice Shizune is sketching a scorecard in the sand. “Looks like you have a decent lead,” I say, reading over the crude diagram, “what's the time limit?”

“Ends in two minutes,” Yoko replies, “she's off getting more, though right?”

“Yeah, but how much more can there be, really?” I say encouragingly, “plus she's littler than you and can't carry as much.”

“It won't matter if she doesn't make it back in time,” she remarks, smirking derisively. “Nice pit, by the way,” she offers, nodding toward the stone circle, “my mom was in the Girl Guides.” For a second her expression drops to a frown, but she pushes it away with a sly grin, “she taught me everything she knows.”

What was that frown?

Setting that question aside, I remark, “Amaya grew up taking aikido lessons.”

Folding her arms, she asks, “Aikido doesn't focus much on camping skills, though, right?”

“No, probably not, “ I agree, “but don't get in a fight with her.”

“I am in a fight with her!” she retorts, placing her hands on her hips. Puffing her cheeks out, she glares at me angrily for a few seconds. When I don't move to respond, she lets out a frustrated sigh, the hard edge of her expression softening to something like embarrassment. “I'm not afraid of her,” she says evenly, “I don't even want to humiliate her,” she admits, wrapping one of her arms around her waist, “I just want to win.”

Maybe Yoko isn't as shy as I thought.

Shizune grins and offers a confident fist pump, apparently not needing a translation to understand Yoko's determination. How this little competition sprang up, I'm not sure, but she seems to be taking it more seriously than the volleyball game. That shouldn't really surprise me, though. The volleyball game was a team event, while this is personal; just between the two of them. A potentially humiliating wager between friends. The thought of her and Amaya becoming friends makes me smile, though Yoko interprets it differently.

“When she gets back, I want Shizune to do the count,” she says, pointing toward the Class President, “that way I can expect an unbiased result.”

“You don't trust me?” I ask with a slight pout.

“Would you trust Misha if it were you and Shizune competing?” she retorts.

Although her logic makes sense, I still feel a tinge upset at her insistence. “Fine,” I concede, turning toward Shizune, [she wants you to do the tally.]

In response, Shizune turns to Yoko and offers a slight bow.

Before Yoko can reply, a sudden yell turns our attention toward a slender figure in a full run, dashing over the grass, a bundle of wood in her hands. “I've still got time, right!?” she bellows.

Turning to Yoko, I see her cast a look toward her wristwatch and sigh. “Fifteen seconds,” she says, shrugging toward me.

“Fifteen seconds!” I call out for Amaya to hear.

Her mad dash gets her back just in time to toss her last bundle on the pile. Immediately afterward, she drops down in the grass and lays out flat, panting and giggling. While Shizune tallies the piles by whatever system she devised, Amaya and Yoko sit in the grass and trade insults. Evidently, the off-handed comment Amaya made caused Yoko to formalize the wager when they met up after their first round of gathering. Of course, Amaya came up with the consequences.

At least some small part of this makes sense.

After a few minutes scratching lines in the sand, Shizune turns to me with a perplexed expression and waves me over. Turning away from the bantering pair, she looks at me with a wince and signs, [Can you check my math?]

It's not a request I haven't heard before, but I never expected it to come from Shizune. Obliging, I scan over the numbers she came up with and find everything to appear right. That's somewhat of a problem, though, since, according to her tally, the competition ended with a tie.

Nodding slowly, I sign, [it looks right to me.]

Glancing toward the pair, I see both wearing expectant expressions. Amaya glowers slyly, rubbing her hands together craftily while Yoko purses her lips and squints at us, absently twirling a bunch of her hair.

[Well I'm calling it, then,] Shizune says with a slight nod.

“What'd she say?” Amaya asks, “no messin' around, Aiko, just tell me I won,” she says with a confident smirk.

“You did,” I reply, smirking at Yoko. Before Amaya can celebrate, I add, “and so did Yoko.”

Both of them sit and stare at me in confusion for a moment before Yoko crosses her arms and huffs, “You're sure?” accompanied by a suspicious expression.

“All she had me do is check her math,” I say, patting the air.

“Well, what the heck does that mean?” Amaya says, throwing up her arms and turning a raised eyebrow at Yoko.

“I guess we both won, so neither has to do it?” Yoko suggests.

For a second, Amaya starts to nod, but a loud finger-snap stops her. Shizune sets a devious grin on them and starts signing, [They both lost, too.]

It's a fair point. Catching on to what she probably means, I hold up a hand and suggest, “You both lost, too, so perhaps you should both...” As I trail off, I see Amaya flash a toothy grin at Yoko.

“Topless, and at the same time,” she says nudging Yoko's shoulder.

Grimacing, Yoko shakes her head slightly, but, after a few moments contemplation, grudgingly nods in agreement. “After dark,” she says, “and no shenanigans.” She punctuates her demands with a finger poking Amaya's shoulder.

“This whole thing is shenanigans~!” Amaya chirps, holding out her hand.

Taking it tentatively, Yoko lets out a resigned sigh and laments, “It's my fault.”

“Hey, I'm the one who started it~!” Amaya retorts, shaking her hand furiously, “it'll be fun, don't worry~!”

Finally having the bet settled, or at least the planned consequences, we set about piling the wood into the rock circle. Shizune insists that we form it into a tent with a hollow base, which makes building it somewhat tedious, but it's how I remember the bonfires at our family gatherings being; and those usually lasted deep into the night. Stoking the hollow at the bottom with dry grass, we leave the lighting until dusk, heading back inside to get cleaned up and change into something that isn't caked with sand.

The real shenanigans start later.
________________________________________
Previous|Next

This blurb might contain spoilers, so take my advice and wear protection.
The third day won't be split up quite as much as their second day, but including all of it in one chapter wasn't working. The latter half has a very different tone to it, and together they clashed terribly, so I blocked out the first half into this fun little diversion and I'll be working on the second half as its own chapter for the near future.

Shenanigans is a word that popped into my head thinking about Office Space and Super Troopers. That really has nothing to do with this story, but it sounded funny in my head.

Yoko might not be quite the shy, bashful recluse she seems; sorry to disappoint. There's fire behind her unassuming eyes, or something like that. My apologies to Wendy; you had to know I'd use this story someday.

[BlackWaltzTheThird]

Dost mine eyes deceive me?

I think you want "Doth" there, mate. "Dost" is used for other people, e.g. "Dost thou eyes decieve you?"

“Half past a freckle.”

I dunno if it's different elsewhere, but I've always said "A hair past a freckle".

After the accident when I lost my hearing, when I almost drown, I had horrifying nightmares.

First up, "drowned" not "drown". Also it's probably got very little academic basis, but I'm pretty sure than centre clause oughta be divided with dashes rather than commas. Up to you.

Okay, that's all from your friendly neighbourhood spell checker. Now, onto the chapter itself; you say this is part one of two. In some ways, it's a bit of a relief, because the previous day, with all its chapters, sorta - well, it didn't drag on or anything, but it lasted too long... know what I mean? Anyway, it'll be nice to have this holiday wrapped up and any and all topless shenanigans (which is, by the way, my favourite word) explored to the fullest, hahaha. Once again, I liked the characterisation of Shizune; There never really was a whole lot actually addressed in regards to her relationship with Jigoro, so it's nice to see it given a fresh take here. I very much hope this gets explored further in due time.
Cheers, BlackWaltz.

[Helbereth]

it didn't drag on or anything, but it lasted too long... know what I mean?

Yeah, I sort of regret planning so much stuff to happen over the vacation, but I understood it would get long through here from early in writing. Even before the final number of attendees rose to 9 (It was 6 when I outlined it originally), and then 10, I knew there would end up being a lot going on over their short stay.

Shizune [...] Jigoro

I'm inferring a bit with that characterization. Her relationship with Jigoro always seemed like one borne of love and hate at the same time. Ultimately, he's her father and, even though he's a jackass, she's still his daughter; she loves him despite his faults. The level of comparison between Jigoro and Lydia (Aiko's mom) is probably lofty at best, but they share some traits. The little conversation with Shizune at that point heads in a direction Aiko didn't really plan in any case; she asks about that instead of why she's been acting differently.

The Shizune issue itself is something I'll be using later. That probably doesn't comfort you much, but, along with several other little (and big) conflicts, it's being set up for act 4.

One of the things I kind of made myself do is plan to explore all the characters; even the original cast where applicable. Iterating on the already bountiful wealth of writing -both in the VN and fanon- about the pre-existing characters -primary, secondary and even tertiary- is difficult to do without boring one's audience at this point. Misha and Shizune get a lot of that treatment since they're around so often, Hisao certainly gets a number of things added to his character (things he wouldn't necessarily mention, mostly), and I've tried to do the same with Emi (to a much lesser extent), and a little with Rin. Hanako and Lilly just don't cross paths with Aiko enough to make any exploration thereof make sense (that could change, what with Lilly also being a class rep, but I never really planned anything to that effect).

Doing that while trying to keep them in character and not feel like I'm completely wasting my audience's time is a bit of a challenge. Sticking so many of them in one place at the same time just made it more difficult. This whole section has been taking a lot of time to write -and rewrite (I cut out around 4500 words that will never see the light of day in this chapter alone)- just to get it to flow along and not drag while still relaying all the points I want to make. It's a bit like walking a tight-rope while carrying a ton of bricks.

Comments and such certainly help, though. If it's feeling long, I'd like to hear about why and how I might fix that, but I've really been trying to compress things as much as I can. Not even in the early chapters did this story ever intend to focus solely on Aiko and Hisao. That would definitely have reduced the word count, but it wasn't the only story I wanted to tell; I absolutely planned to have it be more of an ensemble tale.

[Hoitash]

Whoo, finally caught up.

Sorry for being so late to the party; shoulda known if you wrote it, I'd like it

Great work as usual, keep it up, hold the line, etc, etc.

[Helbereth]

Whoo, finally caught up.

Sorry for being so late to the party; shoulda known if you wrote it, I'd like it

Great work as usual, keep it up, hold the line, etc, etc.

To quote Kenta quoting Bruce Willis; "Welcome to the party, pal!"

[Hoitash]

Whoo, finally caught up.

Sorry for being so late to the party; shoulda known if you wrote it, I'd like it

Great work as usual, keep it up, hold the line, etc, etc.

To quote Kenta quoting Bruce Willis; "Welcome to the party, pal!"

Yippee-kai yay

[griffon8]

Shenanigans is a wonderful word.

[Helbereth]

IT'S ALIVE!

Rumors of my demise were mostly false (mostly).

After the furious pace I set publishing new chapters previously, going this long (five weeks and then some) without an update feels really weird. I'd like to offer some kind of explanation to that effect, but there are a lot of factors; holidays, new MMO to play, other obligations, a healthy dose of writer's block, and a lot of time spent reworking the outline for the end of act 3 and much of act 4.

I've literally rewritten the entire last day at least a dozen different ways trying to hit the right narrative flow, and I scrapped a whole lot of different plot directions in the process. I don't want to complain too much, but I really did create a difficult set of problems to work out, and I can really only blame myself.

I'll stop babbling here and let you get started on the actual story; we'll talk again after you're done.

Previous|Next
___________________________________________________
Chapter 25 - Ups and Downs

With the lull of the afternoon, I decide to get my things packed up so I don't have to do so in a rush. Sitting on the lid so I can get the case zipped up, I wonder how I got everything in there before. Not that it really matters, but I don't think the addition of a few bathing suits should have made this much difference. Although it's admittedly much less well-organized than on the trip down, so I shouldn't be surprised.

Hearing a clamor coming from outside, I quickly force the zipper closed and hop down to the floor; the boys are back. Misha left the bedroom door open when she finished disassembling her mobile closet, so I can hear Tadao bellowing, “We have returned!” adding a rasp to his voice, “with meat!”

The pillaging expedition went well, apparently.

While I'm standing by the bed, I see Tadao run by carrying a brown paper bag under his arm. Taking a few steps back to lean into the room, he shoots me a sly, sidelong glance and whispers, “You saw nothing!” then tucks the bag further under his arm and darts away.

What...?

Before I can ask, he's already gone. Whatever he's hiding away, I don't think I really care. Actually, I know I don't care; or at least I don't want to know. All this secrecy is starting to get on my nerves.

Shaking my head, I glance down at the object in my hand and smile. Having packed it first, I'd forgotten about the shiny, silver anklet I'm now palming absently. The gift Hisao bought me for Tanabata got set aside in the aftermath of that night, and I almost forgot I'd packed it for this weekend. Rolling it over and grasping the little figurine between my thumb and forefinger, I don't notice the figure standing in the doorway.

“What's that?” Amaya asks, and I reflexively pull it behind my back.

Bad move.

“Oh, now I have to see~!” she says, stepping around to my side.

Trying to hide it, I drop it into my other hand and reveal the empty one. “It's nothing, see?”

Raising an eyebrow at me, she purses her lips and tilts her head; unconvinced by my sleight of hand. “It's shiny, silver and you were ogling it with that lost-girl look of yours. Now, give~!” she commands.

Rolling my eyes, I give up and reveal the anklet, holding it up for her to inspect. Finger on her chin like always, she squints at it for a few seconds before turning a sweet smile at me and asking, “Where'd that come from?”

“Hisao,” I mumble, feeling a blush rush to my cheeks.

“Aww~,” she croons, “it's adorable.”

Whether she really means that, or she's just being nice, I can't quite tell, but I smile anyway. After the fallout from Tanabata, I never had the chance to show it to her; or anyone else. Why I felt the need to hide it, I'm not certain, but I've hardly had the chance to look at it since. Perhaps I just haven't had the opportunity, or maybe I just wanted to keep it to myself.

…or maybe I don't think I deserve it.

Somehow that thought creeps into my consciousness, and it takes hold well enough to force a frown onto my face. This little memento, unassuming and quaint, represents something both exciting and terrifying. Even if I didn't have a million other problems, it would still mean a significant change had occurred in my relationship with Hisao; one I'm not sure I'm completely ready for.

Since meeting him, I've been trying to figure out what I'm doing; what we're doing. Early on it was simple; we were friends. We swam together most mornings, saw each-other at lunch, studied together, and spent most of the time laughing. Since Tanabata, that simplicity has gone out the window. Now there are deeper implications every time we meet, and expectations from our friends... and dire consequences if something goes wrong.

And I'm thinking about this entirely too much.

Amaya is staring at me, wearing a perplexed frown that looks more like a wince; as though she feels guilty about something. Tilting her head to the other side, she looks between me and the anklet, then opens her mouth as if to say something, but stops and shakes her head instead.

“You okay?” she mumbles meekly.

She knows me too well...

Unfortunately, I'm not ready to try faking my way out of her inquisition; especially not a surprise attack like this. After spending the past week trying to figure it out myself, I think I could use the help, though the timing could be better. Despite her sometimes boisterous approach, Amaya would make an excellent counselor; assuming she can keep the condescending tone out of her voice.

“I'm fine,” I claim, though I can tell she isn't taking that as an answer. Realizing I'll need to offer some kind of explanation, I clear my throat and start to add, “I'm just-”

“Don't try to bullshit me~!” she balks, placing her hands on her hips and eying me narrowly.

Put on the spot like this, I realize there's really just one nagging issue causing all of this worry and doubt; the truth. Not anything I've lied about directly, but something I've omitted from every conversation with Hisao, and willfully kept to myself: Dad's legacy. Even if things don't end up working out -which is a whole other set of worries- if they do, and I don't tell him I'm carrying this death sentence, and he eventually finds out, he could never trust me again.

At least I wouldn't trust me...

Amaya waits patiently -or at least she isn't pushing- settling into a concerned expression that I'd rather not see. At the very least, she knows the secret already so I shouldn't really have trouble talking to her about it, but she didn't exactly take it well. We haven't talked about it since last year.

Does she even remember?

“It's about my...” I say in monotone, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. Seeing her brow furrow in confusion, I steady myself with a breath and mumble, “condition.”

For a moment she smiles, but it's sapped away when she realizes what I mean. Immediately, her hand reaches out for the door and she swings it closed.

I'm surprised I didn't think of that.

Settling a very worried pair of eyes on me and reaching for my arm with a shaky hand, she breathes, “It's not starting already is it?”

“What?” I prompt, blinking and staring at her in confusion.

“I read it can start early!” she whispers loudly, her face turning pale.

Seeing her overreact isn't encouraging.

“No, not that!” I quickly reply, shaking my head. “Why would you even think that?” I ask, then quickly hold up a hand and add, “Don't answer that.”

“Okay, okay,” she says, blowing out a long sigh, “don't scare me like that!” To make her point, she punches my arm and scowls.

While I'm standing there rubbing the welt on my arm -which I probably deserved- my mind goes back to where it was before Amaya misinterpreted my rambling. Maybe it's the pain, or the frustration, or the fact that I'm just tired of thinking about it, but I really just want things to go back to the way they were before Tanabata; or maybe even before the Yamaku Festival. Despite all I've probably gained since then: new friends, more free-time, peace of mind, and even a boyfriend, I can't help but feel like I've lost something important – something precious.

Something I can't take back.

My eyes wander back to the anklet, and I take a few steps back to sit on the edge of the bed. Amaya follows, sitting next to me and waiting. A few minutes pass before I can bring myself to look at her forced smile and start shaking my head.

“I can't not tell Hisao about it, can I?” I blurt.

Scrunching up her face, her eyes narrow, and she starts biting her lip as my question seems to disagree with her. If I had a mirror in front of me every time I tried thinking about this, I imagine I'd look like Amaya does right now. Watching her, I realize it's not something she can really answer without seeming biased -no matter what she says- but I still want to hear it from her.

“I can't tell you what to do,” she says, offering a resigned shrug, “but he's gonna find out eventually.”

Yeah, that's the problem...

“Eventually...” I echo quietly.

“We all are,” she continues, sweeping a hand across empty space to indicate everyone else in the house, “when you're ready.”

That's a sobering thought...

After a short pause, she places a hand on my shoulder and smiles. Strangely, it's a genuine smile which is a little unnerving. “I'm glad you told me,” she says reassuringly, “it's not so bad, really. I mean, it was terrifying at first, but it's better than being surprised when you keel over.”

Hearing that, I can't help but smirk and reply, “Like you do sometimes?”

Nodding, she starts to reply, “Sure, like-” then cuts herself off and glares, “Hey!” She doesn't hit me, though; probably because what I said is pretty close to the truth.

After a much-needed giggle, which doesn't last long enough, I shrug and shake my head apologetically. Her expression shifts back to a more neutral pout while I think about what she said; it's not just Hisao that will end up needing to know.

Everyone around me will, at some point, have to find out about my death sentence. Maybe I shouldn't call it that, but I can't think of a better name. Maybe by the time it becomes important I'll know a whole dictionary full of euphemisms for having a short life-span, but today I'm not even thinking that far ahead. All I want to know right now is whether it will matter if I keep it to myself for a while longer.

Me, myself and Amaya, that is...

“So...” I trail off and wince, “I should tell him...?”

Although I wanted it to sound like a declaration, I can't help making it sound like a question. From the grim look on her face, I think she was hoping for me not to ask, but it's too late now. Usually she's so giddy and upbeat, like nothing can ever get her down, but this is really making her think. Although I find that comforting -it means she cares- part of me still doesn't want her to have to consider any of this.

For a second she opens her mouth as if to say the first thing on her mind, but she stops and stares at me instead. Leveling her eyes on mine, her eyes seem assured as she states, “You're afraid Hisao won't understand.”

For a second I want to agree, and I almost start nodding, but I know that isn't right. Letting her supposition stew for a second, I turn the anklet over in my hand and start absently rubbing the chain against my palm. Finally, I shake my head and say, “No, that's not it...”

When I trail off and continue staring at my hands, Amaya makes a confused grunt and falls silent. Taking a moment to steady myself, I roll the chain between my fingers and pick up Hisao's gift by the figurine.

When he gave it to me, I understood what it meant. He hadn't just gotten it because I asked; it meant something to him. The thought got lost in a hundred other worries, but he gave it to me because he cares; he wants to see me smile – probably as much as I want to see him smile. Thinking that makes me smile, and I can feel Amaya shifting as she watches and waits for me to continue.

Until Tanabata, or maybe shortly before, I was never really sure if Hisao was really interested in me, and I regret not realizing it sooner. Even afterward, I've continued to wonder if he really cares, or if I'm just fooling myself, and I know that's wrong too. The thought that he might not understand had never really occurred to me; I expected he would, but that seems to be the problem.

“I'm afraid he will,” I say, reverting to a monotone whisper, “and that scares me.”

Hisao will understand, and probably even sympathize. The problem is if he understands, that means two things: he accepts me the way I am, which is great, but it also means he's one step closer to being a pall-bearer at my funeral. Maybe that first point ought to override the second, but Hisao doesn't need extra worries; he has enough of his own.

Amaya, even being as smart as I know she is, doesn't know what to say. Her silence is fine, though, because I'm not doing any better. Until I get a chance to figure it out, I can hold out on telling him; maybe I could talk to Mom. Dad had to tell her at some point, so she at least has experience being on the receiving end of the conversation. At least there's no pressure to decide anything today.

“I'll be fine,” I say after a few long moments. “Thanks for listening,” I add, smiling as she turns to regard me, “I think I know who I can ask.”

“Your mom,” she says flatly, offering a weak smile. Shaking her head and pushing a bright smile out through her maudlin expression, she cheerfully adds, “is she coming to visit?”

“Midori too,” I reply, which turns her forced smile into a genuine smirk.

They've met on a couple occasions, though never under particularly good circumstances – which is something I'd like to see change. Before heading home for the summer last year, Amaya spent a few days hanging around with Mom, Midori and myself, and they got along like old friends; Mom treated Amaya like a third daughter. She doesn't know how alike I think she and Midori are, though.

“Is she still spouting Italian everywhere she goes?” she asks, grinning sardonically, “last time it was like we needed an interpreter~!”

Amaya's rapid change of mood, like always, helps lift me out of my melancholy. Just seeing a bright smile cross her mischievous face helps me forget what we were talking about. Whether she knows it or not, her uncanny ability to see the bright spot in anything has always been something I envy; it's something she shares with Midori.

“She never says anything important anyway,” I reply jokingly.

Laughing, Amaya stands and turns a thoughtful look at me, asking, “You're sure you're alright?”

“Yes, Mom!” I retort, returning a mocking smile. Nodding lightly, I point toward the boys' room and add, “go spy on Tadao, he was carrying a bag of-”

“Fireworks,” she interjects, rolling her eyes, “that dumbass is planning a light-show.”

That figures...

“Remember; he's your dumbass,” I reply, pointing a mocking finger at her.

“Are you calling me a dumbass?” she asks with a mocking pout.

“Yes... yes, I am,” I reply snidely.

A knock on the door interrupts our banter and Misha's voice follows soon after. “You girls decent?” she asks.

“Only by most definitions,” Amaya replies sardonically.

“Wahaha~!” Misha laughs, pushing her way through the door and making a bee-line for the bathroom. “I'll change in here,” she chirps, “we're gonna go swimming if you wanna join us~!”

Smiling at the idea, Amaya remarks, “I have my suit on under this for later...” she trails off and sighs, no doubt recalling her bet with Yoko, “but I think I'm gonna take a nap. You should go, though...”

Smirking, she backs into the bathroom door and reaches inside. Misha's stifled yelp is cut off by Amaya's apologetic, “Sorry,” as she retracts her hand and adds, “can you hand me a towel~!”

Misha's giggles melodically, sending a tinny echo into the room. A moment later a towel appears from behind the door which Amaya grabs and immediately tosses at me. Pointing out the window, she pats my shoulder and suggests, “you always said it helps you think.”

Well, yeah...

“Besides,” she adds, heading for the door, “we're going back tonight and I don't wanna hear you groaning about not going swimming while we were here~!”

Before closing the door, she leans back inside and grins. “You should wear that thing around, too,” she says, pointing at the anklet in my hand, “it seemed to help get your head in the right place.”

“I was going to-” I start to say, but the door is closed and I hear her heavy footfalls thudding down the hall before I can finish.

Misha steps out a moment later, bouncing giddily. Proudly twirling, sending her pink drills spinning wildly around to fall across her shoulders, she puffs up her considerable chest and asks, “Whaddya think~?”

Not thinking clearly enough to really assess the rather revealing black and pink swimsuit she's chosen, I just smile and nod. “Cute,” I say absently.

Letting out another blaring, “Wahaha~!” she heads for the door, tossing a towel over her shoulder and lilting, “See you outside~!” as she goes.

Standing in the middle of the room for a few moments, staring blankly at the door, I decide Amaya's right; I do feel like going for a swim - although that does mean reopening my suitcase. Groaning softly, I unzip the case and slip into a green and black one-piece Amaya packed for me. After securing the anklet around my left ankle, I pick up the towel and head out.

Passing through the kitchen, I notice Naoko and Nobuo are working at butchering the meat from the boys' expedition. Nobuo seems to be doing all the cutting while Naoko works a meat grinder. They both nod as I pass by, and I offer a thankful smile; they've trapped themselves in the kitchen for the foreseeable future.

Heading through the door, I wonder if Naoko is really happy to spend the day with her brother. She invited him along because he's lonely, not just to cook, but I also think she's worried about him. They do seem to be enjoying themselves, though; at least as much as two people can while trapped in a dark kitchen with a beautiful beach waiting outside the window.

Finding Amaya lounging in one of the chairs on the patio, I lay the towel in the chair beside her and warn, “Don't let anyone steal my seat.”

“Watch out for hands under the water~,” she jokes, peering at me with one eye closed.

“He knows better,” I retort.

“I didn't necessarily mean Hisao,” she replies.

Somehow, I hadn't thought of that.

“I'll keep my guard up,” I say, turning to leave.

“If Tadao tries anything, don't bother telling me,” she calls, “he might not be able to stop himself.”

What...?

When I turn to shoot her a questioning glare, she rolls over, giggling lightly. Deciding she had to have been joking, I start slowly marching toward the waves where most everyone is waiting.

Passing Yoko as she sits a few feet from shore, staring blankly at the waves, I turn a concerned look on her and ask, “Not going swimming?”

Giggling nervously, she looks up at me, squinting at the sun over my shoulder, and answers, “No, just getting some sun.”

It's a reasonable explanation, but her agitated expression suggests she's hiding something. “Okay, well,” I add with an inviting smile, “if you change your mind-”

“Maybe later,” she replies before I can finish, “I'm having fun, really, no need to worry.”

Watching her eyes dart between me and the water for a few seconds, I start feeling uncomfortable, so I just nod and turn away. If she wanted to talk about it, whatever it is, I think she would. Right now, she doesn't seem to be in the mood to talk, so I continue along toward the water.

Is she afraid of the water...?

Hisao waves at me as I approach, and Tadao waves me toward them, but I'm not out here just so splash around in the shallows. The pool at Yamaku is warmer, and the chlorine isn't gritty like the salty ocean water, but none of that matters. Having not gone for a swim since Friday morning, I immediately feel better slipping under the waves.

The undulating surface is somewhat annoying, so I dive down and manage to open my eyes. The sandy shelf extends out some distance from the beach, and there isn't much of a riptide, so I don't feel worried about getting swept away.

After putting some between me and the shore, I turn and head up to the surface. Coming up stealthily, just enough to see over the water line, I peer toward the beach at the bewildered group I left standing in the shallows. Apparently none of my friends paid close attention when I dove away, so none of them have any idea I'm spying on them.

Misha is wading in hip-deep water, jumping at shadows under her feet -perhaps expecting me to jump up and surprise her- while Shizune looks on wearing a bemused expression. Apparently Kenta is keeping himself entertained, or perhaps distracted, by a handful of shells he's examining as he sits a few feet from shore in just enough water to cover his legs. Hisao is squatting so his head and neck just peek out above the water and facing the beach, so I can't tell what face he's making. Nearby, Tadao is sticking his head under the water, though I can't quite tell whether he's looking for me or just using it as an excuse to examine Misha's behind.

I'll have to use that against him later.

Smiling at their obliviousness, I lean back and float to the surface, using gentle kicks to propel myself backwards. Whenever we visited Uncle Aki, there were always adults around -especially Mom- telling me not to swim out this far, so I've never had a chance to relax like this. Closing my eyes to block out the sun, I find the motion up and down with each peak and valley is surprisingly relaxing; the water acting like massaging hands, holding me aloft.

My relaxation is short-lived as Misha's booming lilt calls faintly from shore, “There she is~!”

In response, I loft a hand in the air and wave. Their chatter is too distant and my ear is too water-logged to understand what they're saying, but their voices range from concern to relief. One of them, however, is eerily silent. Lifting my head to look at the group as another wave rolls under me, I see Hisao standing there with his arms crossed; clearly not impressed.

He's used to my watery antics, I guess.

Thinking I'll need to come up with some new tricks at some point -just to keep him interested- I decide I've had enough bobbing on the surface. As the next wave crests and I start dipping into the valley, I take a deep breath, roll my legs down and hold my arms up, turning myself into a spear. Grinning widely as I go -though I'm not sure they can see it- I slip under the water and fold forward to start descending; intending to have a look around.

When I was really little -before the accident- I used to want to be a marine biologist or something like that; I didn't really have a name for it, I just liked sea creatures. Dad liked the idea, but I grew out of it eventually. Still, I'm fascinated by the world hidden beneath the ocean surface. Unfortunately, diving really isn't my specialty -I'm not entirely sure how to handle the depth- so I only go down a few feet; just far enough to have a peek.

The sandy sea floor, about thirty feet beneath me, is littered with coral bands wrapped around rocky outcroppings. Other strange creatures litter the ocean floor; starfish, urchins, and some I can't really identify. Kelp stalks wave ominously over those, and I notice a school of silver fish darting between their outstretched leaves. Watching them flash sunlight almost in unison as they change direction makes me wish I wasn't so boat-shy; I think I'd enjoy going out diving like this.

While it's fun watching the ocean floor for a while, I did come out here to swim, not go sight-seeing. Heading up, I decide to trace the shoreline rather than swim out further. When I break the surface this time, I'm already kicking and paddling, ignoring the onlookers – if there are any. The rolling waves force me to concentrate a lot more on my breathing than I'm used to, but that just makes clearing my head easier.

Kind of...

As I'm pushing along, only one thought keeps coming back to my mind; Hisao. Swimming with him has become so routine that not having him paddling beside me feels strange. The fast pace I used to set has calmed to a less relentless speed, even without him there to keep me from spiriting ahead.

After his heart flutter yesterday, everyone found out or confirmed his condition. With that in mind, he apparently doesn't feel apprehensive about it quite so much, and even shed his t-shirt, revealing the scar. Still, I know he's gotten a lot stronger since we first started swimming together, but I'm not sure he could handle being out here for long. He doesn't quite know his limits yet, and I'm not sure I could carry him back to shore if something terrible happened.

Like Tadao walking on eggshells around Amaya's epilepsy, I'm not really sure how to carry myself around Hisao's arrhythmia. Most of the time, he seems perfectly fine, but one wrong knock to the chest could put him in the hospital – or worse. Maybe his condition isn't all that different from my disease; except that mine is much more specific about the time limit.

Dammit... So much for swimming to clear my head.

No matter what I do, I keep ending up thinking about death; it's starting to grate on my nerves. Angling back toward shore, I try to focus on swimming instead of thinking. Frustrated that I can't even clear my head with a good swim anymore, I skip talking with anyone and instead walk straight toward the patio. With any luck, they'll just assume I wanted to get to my towel.

Amaya is asleep when I arrive and sink into the lounging chair beside her, shaking my head all the while. Leaning back and closing my eyes, I listen to her soft snoring for a while, trying to let my mind go blank. When that doesn't work, I sit up and swing my feet off to the side, leaning forward to look her over. Seeing her asleep in the middle of the afternoon is a little weird, but maybe my spotty sleeping habits have finally started rubbing off on her; not that I think that's a good thing.

Time drifts away slowly as the afternoon turns toward dusk and Nobuo starts bringing the kitchen out to the patio with Naoko still assisting. Evidently, according to Kenta at least, the charring of meat requires an open-air fire, which Nobuo uses as an excuse to bring their whole operation outside. The ground meat apparently went into handmade sausages while the other cuts swim in the marinade Naoko and Misha prepared.

I wish I knew more about what they're doing.

For my part, I keep out of their way. Nobuo offers to give me some hands-on lessons, but I refuse; if my culinary teacher of a mother can't get through, I really doubt he can. Besides, when it comes to food, I'm actually content with keeping things simple; I can do wonders with a microwave.

The boys head inside soon after Nobuo finishes setting up, claiming to be holding a secret meeting; probably involving the fireworks. Misha and Shizune set themselves up down near the unlit fire pit with a big blue umbrella, joining Yoko in her sunbathing. Meanwhile, I lay back and enjoy some peace and quiet – relative quiet. Amaya's snoring starts getting louder, reminding me of another reason why we rarely share a room.

Focusing on the sound of rolling waves to drown out Amaya's nasal cacophony, I close my eyes and try to shut out the world. Getting a little time to myself, at least partially, I let the afternoon haze drift by and find myself on the verge of sleep.

Before I can sink into slumber, a sudden jostling of my chair rouses me and I sit up, groaning, “Go back to sleep, Amaya!”

Opening my eyes, I blink a few times and grin sheepishly at the blurry green mess of hair and grinning teeth a few inches away. “Oh, hey Naoko,” I say, forgetting for a moment that she can't hear me.

Apparently not needing a translation, she waves and signs, [Mind if I sit for a minute?]

[By all means,] I reply, leaning back and reaching down to try and find my glasses.

Catching them as they've apparently tried skittering away under my chair, I wipe them off with my towel and set them on my nose, only then noticing the despondent look on Naoko's face. She looks positively exhausted, or at least overheated, and maybe a little sad.

It's unusual to see, but she really does look tired. Sitting there with her hands in her lap, she rolls her head around, apparently trying to work out a kink in her neck. Her typically happy smile is hanging a little lower than normal and her eyes are held tightly shut.

When she stops, I give her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, waiting for her to open her eyes before asking, [You okay? You look a little tired.]

Shrugging, she grins and replies, [I'll be fine, thanks.] After tossing her head side to side to stretch her neck, she adds, [We were out late and I was rewarded with a headache.]

[I see,] I reply, nodding in a sagely manner. [Maybe you should take a nice hot shower,] I suggest, pointing toward the bungalow, [it helped with my headache earlier.]

For a long moment, she turns her gaze up toward the house, apparently considering my idea. Shrugging as she turns back, I'm disappointed to see her shaking her head. [After Nobuo is done, maybe,] she signs, [everyone else is either asleep, busy being boys, sunbathing, or a fire hazard.]

[It was one time!] I protest, smiling despite the bad memory. Accidentally setting fire to the wall of cabinets behind the stove in the common room got me banned for two months, which is why Amaya usually does my cooking now. [You could wake Amaya,] I suggest, [I'm sure she wouldn't mind.]

Glancing over her shoulder at Nobuo, she inhales deeply and exhales a resigned sigh. Turning back, she shakes her head as she signs close to her chest, [I'm still worried about him.] Her uncharacteristically concerned expression makes me frown. [They'd been together since his first year at university,] she explains, [he's like a lost puppy without her.]

[He'll be fine,] I reply, trying to reassure her.

Really, I don't know Nobuo well enough to believe my own words. Despite how well they seem to get along, her brother only ever came up once, and that was back when Naoko was tutoring me in sign language; over two years ago. That seems odd, though. Usually she's pretty open talking about family, and I've met her parents more than once. Looking at her now, I think there's a bit of guilt in her expression; maybe their relationship wasn't always so friendly.

[Probably,] she admits, [at least he keeps saying that, but I know it's tearing him up inside.]

Her earnest concern is heartwarming, but I don't know what to say. There's more to it than I've been told, and this is not the time or place to ask. Besides, Midori hasn't started dating yet -to my knowledge- so I haven't had much reason to think about the possibility of advising her in heartbreak. Having so little experience with romance myself, I don't think I'm much of a source for advice anyway.

Naoko sees the conflict in my expression and holds up a hand before I can try replying. [Don't worry about it,] she signs, [you have enough to worry about already.]

Does everyone see through me like that...?

[I'm just venting, I guess,] she adds, rubbing her forehead for a second. Grinning broadly, she nods and explains, [Just talking about it helped the headache~!]

Wishing I could do more than listen, I shrug and reply, [Glad I could help.]

Standing, she reaches up into a full stretch before letting her hands drop lazily to her sides. After a second she reaches up and pulls the barrette out of her hair, letting the straight locks fall across her face; evidently the braid Yoko wove yesterday didn't agree with her. Setting the barrette aside, she reaches into a pants pocket and produces an elastic, then uses it to tie her hair in a ponytail.

When she's finished, she catches me staring and smirks. [You should pull the hair out of your face like at Tanabata,] she suggests, offering me the barrette, [it might make kissing The Swooner a little easier~!]

Taking it from her hand, I shrug and set it down on the little table next to my chair. Turning back, I reply, [I think Hisao likes choking on my hair, though.]

[So is that why you like him~?] she asks with a lewd smirk.

Oh, but that's just dirty!

Setting a wide-eyed stare on her, I'm rendered speechless; or motionless, as it were. Instead of waiting for me to respond, she flashes a toothy grin and offers a shrug, quickly walking back over to continue helping Nobuo. Lately it seems all my friends have dirty minds, and now even sweet, innocent Naoko is cracking wise with perverse themes – maybe I just seek that out in people, or, worse, bring that out in people...

That's a frightening thought.

A loud pop overhead snaps me out of the unsettling thoughts and I shoot my gaze upward, catching the sparkling puff of smoke as it starts drifting away; a bottle rocket, apparently. Hearing stifled laughter, I turn toward the house and look up at the deck just in time to see a dark-haired figure darting away. Evidently Tadao is doing some testing, or mischief – or both.

Hearing a groan from the chair beside me, I turn my surprised gaze to see Amaya's eyes cracking open. One of them pops open completely while the other stays closed, but her one-eyed stare doesn't take long to aim upward.

“Is that idiot doing what I think he's doing~!?” she half says and half groans.

Sitting up, she rubs her closed eye and turns a cold look on me for a second before swinging her feet out and standing quickly. “If you'll excuse me,” she says curtly, “I have to go kill my boyfriend.”

“Ask him how he likes his meat cooked,” Nobuo says as she starts rushing up the wooden steps.

“Oh, don't worry,” she says, leaning over the railing to glower at the cook, “he'll be eating through a straw when I'm done~!”

I can't actually tell if she's serious.

He turns and signs something to Naoko, who cracks a smirk and shrugs in response. Meanwhile, I sit back down and get comfortable watching Amaya storm up the stairs. If I can avoid it, I try not to be the voice of reason behind her when she goes on a tirade.

“You coming, Aiko~?” she calls from atop the steps.

So much for that plan...

“I need someone to help get rid of the body~!” she adds, waving a hand to beckon me along. Turning to look in through the sliding door, she mutters, “or bodies.”

I should have brought a book with me.

“Of course, how silly of me,” I call back, slowly standing and heading for the stairs, “what kind of friend would I be if I didn't help you commit homicide?”

“Right!” she replies, still fuming.

Rolling my eyes despite nobody looking, I trudge up the steps, shaking my head the whole way.

There goes my afternoon nap.

Once inside, Amaya flies into a series of insults while Tadao and Kenta sit and snicker on the couch. Hisao is nowhere to be seen, so I'm not sure how involved he was with the surprise attack, but she's concentrating on the two culprits we found. Despite her infuriated tone, neither of them take her seriously. That doesn't surprise me since she usually sounds severe even when she's joking, but she hasn't cracked a smile since this started and that has me keeping quiet.

Finally throwing her arms up in frustration, she aims a threatening stare at both of them and barks, “Do you have any idea what that sudden pop could have caused!?” Looking like she's on the verge of tears, she drops her hands limply to her sides and leans back as a frustrated sigh croaks out of her strained throat.

The snickering stops. Kenta, and especially Tadao, stare at her wide-eyed and slack-jawed. That sudden noise, the little shock-wave, or the burst of light could all have caused a seizure, and now everyone in the room -even me, for not realizing it sooner- feels guilty. Sometimes it's easy to forget about things like that, and I know Amaya hates bringing it up, but both of them should know better.

From behind me I hear footsteps and turn to see Hisao poking his head around the corner wearing a bewildered look. Seeing me he smiles, but the uncomfortable silence stops him from saying anything. Instead, he stands at the end of the hall and shrugs, furrowing his brow with a silent question. In response I simply shake my head quickly and pat the air to placate him temporarily.

Knowing now that she probably asked me along to lend support -in her own way, anyway- I don't know what to say, so I just stand and wait. Tadao is similarly stunned into silence, and Kenta looks like a caged animal; neither of them seems to have any idea how to respond.

After yelling, Amaya has gone quiet too, but her angry exterior is showing signs of softening. With her facing away, I can't read her expression, but she's taking some deep breaths to try settling herself – either that or she's preparing to breathe fire. Breathing fire actually seems more likely at this point. Finally she folds her arms and leans forward, shaking her head and letting out an exasperated sigh.

”Sometimes you really are a dumbass!” she scolds.

Flopping down on the couch between the boys, she concentrates her steely gaze on Tadao even as a tired smirk turns up the corners of her mouth. Wincing, Tadao stutters, trying to respond, but ends up just mumbling incoherently. Kenta glances around uncomfortably for a few seconds before bolting off the couch and backing away, chuckling nervously.

“But you're my dumbass,” she adds, groaning a sigh. Leaning against his shoulder, she pokes his ribs with her index finger and grunts, “Don't scare me like that, Dumbass!”

And now it's a term of endearment...

Turning toward Kenta, she points that same finger at him and yells, “And don't listen to this other dumbass, either!”

Tadao nods and bows his head, finally managing to say, “Sorry,” under a resigned sigh.

She stares at him angrily for a few seconds before a bright grin spreads across her face and she plants a kiss on his cheek. Backing away, she chirps, “I still love ya~!”

Nodding slowly, Tadao replies, “I know.”

“What was that?” she rebuts, punching his arm for good measure.

“Love you too,” he mumbles, wincing at his wounded shoulder.

Kenta finally takes an opportunity to speak, puffing up his chest as he comments, “Solo denied.”

“You,” she barks, turning her stone-faced gaze at Kenta, “stop giving my boyfriend dumbass ideas!”

Making a sound like a deflating balloon, Kenta groans, “Yeah, sorry. Wasn't thinking.”

“We're used to that,” I say sardonically, “just keep your stupid ideas to yourself.”

“What she said,” Amaya adds, turning her gaze toward the quiet figure over my shoulder, “did you have a part in this?”

“No,” Hisao answers, taking a step forward, “but you can blame me for leaving these two alone with the bag.”

Following his pointing finger, Amaya jumps off the couch and walks over to the far end, snatching the brown paper bag off the floor before either of them can protest. Rifling through the contents, she raises an eyebrow for a few seconds before closing the end and tucking it under her arm.

“I'll be holding onto these,” she states, “you two idle-handed dumbasses can go help Nobuo.”

Despite her diminutive stature, Amaya can command a room when she makes use of her angry voice. It's something she doesn't do terribly often, but is always entertaining. Leading Tadao and Kenta outside, using the bag as bait, she has Nobuo put them to work and insists that Naoko go inside to take a break. When that's taken care of, she heads back inside and drags me away, claiming to need help packing.

That turns out just to be a ruse. Instead, she hops up on the top bunk and lays down facing away while I'm left sitting on the bed. Although she doesn't look like it, and would never admit it, I know she's constantly worried about having a seizure. Growing up an only child, her parents naturally doted on her, but the condition made them a little over-protective; going so far as to home-school her. Still, instead of it weighing on her all the time, she remains bright and upbeat; if a little sardonic.

That's part of the reason I opened up to her about my own disease. The relative isolation of her youth isn't something I can relate to, but we both learned about mortality, particularly our own, at a young age. While I didn't learn about my disease until after Dad died, it still came long before most people really realize they could die someday. Amaya's parents, according to her, never minced words when it came to describing the potential dangers of her condition; she sometimes calls her dad The Grim Reaper.

Affectionately, so she says.

The usual facade of indifference she holds up to hide how scared she is has just been knocked away, and she's too embarrassed to show this part to anyone yet – I can't say I blame her. If not for Tadao being part of the reason, I'm sure she would have dragged him along instead, but I was conveniently placed between her and her destination. While she's moping, I figure there ought to be some noise coming from the room –to sound like we're packing– so I decide to change for the trip home and work on resealing my suitcase.

After getting all that finished, I find myself sitting in the middle of the bed cross-legged, staring out the window. Watching the waves and listening to the wind, I'm a little too distracted to notice when Amaya rolls over.

“You think it'll ever be easy?” She asks suddenly, causing me to jump a little and snap a surprised look on her. The question itself takes a second to hit me, and I'm left shaking my head and shrugging. It's not an encouraging gesture, and Amaya points that out with a resigned sigh. While I'd like to hope it will someday be easy to work our respective conditions into conversation without having it remind us of all the baggage they bring, I don't think it ever will.

That almost makes me envy people with more noticeable disabilities like Shizune or even Kenta. People don't end up asking them about being deaf or having cerebral palsy because the symptoms are easy to notice, but ailments like epilepsy or arrhythmia, or partial deafness -or Huntington's- are a lot less obvious. Still, she needs some optimism right about now, and so do I, honestly.

“Maybe,” I say, trying to reason as I'm talking, “eventually everyone around us will understand, so they won't have to ask, or end up doing something stupid...” Trailing off, I'm not sure what I'm saying is helping.

“Maybe,” Amaya echoes, sounding less than convinced. Neither one of us really having an answer, we both fall silent.

Sitting in silence, it occurs to me that, being students at Yamaku, we're both around people who generally understand our conditions. The staff, the students, and even the locals in town at least tolerate the fact that anyone in a Yamaku uniform is probably disabled in some way - whether it's obvious or not. Still, even with that accepting attitude, we both find it hard to talk about our conditions; I can't even bring myself to mention one of them. That makes me worry about life after school; when people will be even less understanding, or, worse, more inquisitive.

“We should probably stop thinking about this,” Amaya suggests, throwing her legs over the edge of the bunk and forcing a grim smile, “we'll just give ourselves wrinkles from making that face.”

Realizing I've had my face frozen in a perplexed frown for the past few minutes, I pull off my glasses and rub my eyes, trying to flatten the wrinkles. “It's your fault!” I accuse.

“Blame Tadao – or Kenta,” she retorts, throwing her hands up in frustration, “but at least Hisao wasn't involved.”

“He did leave them alone, though,” I say, smirking.

“Yeah, well; he doesn't know them that well yet,” she replies, “and besides, he was terrified and he didn't even do anything.”

“Was he?” I ask, “I wasn't watching.”

“Until you started talking,” she adds with a smirk, “he looked like he might panic and run for the hills~!”

“I doubt that,” I retort.

Amaya just giggles in response, which is actually good to hear despite the fact that she's mocking me. Once she collects herself enough to speak, she explains, “You should have a little faith.”

Well that was corny...

“You're starting to talk like Tadao, y'know,” I remark, “and I'm not sure if that's good or not.”

“I know, I can't help it!” she complains, “You know how much he reads, right?”

Nodding, I shrug and ask, “What's that got to do with it?”

“Everything!” she retorts, smiling despite her apparent frustration, “Whenever we're not talking, he's reading; and sometimes he reads aloud... to me,” she blushes a little and starts to look like she doesn't want to continue, “when I'm half-asleep...”

Ah, that's why...

“And it sinks in,” she adds.

Two years ago, I would have thought she were looking for my approval, or an affirmation, or something like that. However, now I realize she's just venting. The smile creeping onto her red-faced expression tells me she doesn't really mind Tadao reading to her, or the apparent effects it has. Having endured some lengthy one-sided conversations with Hisao, and managing to find them endearing despite the boring subject matter, I'm hardly surprised.

Glancing toward the door, I roll my eyes and joke, “We both fell for nerds, I guess.”

“At least yours doesn't bore the crap out of you,” she claims.

If she only knew...

“Is that why you're smiling?” I chide, getting up to make my way out of the room.

“Quiet, you~!” she balks, starting to follow, “and don't call Tadao a nerd!”

“I call them how I see 'em,” I retort, scoffing as I glance back over my shoulder. Her silence speaks volumes as her heavy footsteps catch up and she walks alongside me.

As I smirk and raise an eyebrow at her, I can't help feeling a little detached from the whole situation. Twice today we've found ourselves talking about things we almost never discuss, and I'm starting to remember why – it's damn depressing. Tadao had the right idea firing off that bottle rocket, I think, even if it was a small disaster; this is a vacation and it's supposed to be fun.

At least that was the plan.

One of the first things Hisao said about it was related to fun, I'm sure. Every time Amaya mentioned it, her speech was peppered with enthusiastic adjectives and exaggerated laughter – more than normal. It's kind of sad I have to keep reminding myself of that. All my friends are here, Hisao is here, there's a big bag of fireworks around here somewhere, and I keep thinking about death.

No more; not this weekend.

Imagining the coming light-show, I put a skip in my step as we exit through the sliding door and start giggling when Amaya turns a curious glance at me. Not needing an explanation, apparently, she joins in as we descend the stairs and head toward the patio. Maybe we only have a few hours left here, but I'm determined to smile for the rest of the day, and I think Amaya agrees.

This is a no frown zone.
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Previous|Next]Next[/url]

Despite saying I didn't want to split their final day three ways, I just couldn't deliver on that promise. The previous days were written that way because there's a lot going on, and this last day is no different. Writing an ensemble story like this from a first-person perspective and having all of my major players all in one place just creates a lot of potential for interaction and I like doing character drama - so sue me.

In trying to write the whole rest of the day as one chapter, I realized there was a rift in the way it was written; specifically the first half ended up being all about Aiko and Amaya, while the latter half focuses elsewhere. They were really two totally different threads and didn't work together very well, so I did some adjusting and found myself with a complete chapter.

Babbling aside, I wanted to focus a bit on Aiko's worries, which have been peppered into the narrative but never really addressed, and I wanted to have her open up about it with Amaya. How that happened changed several times, but I finally settled on sticking that right on the beginning of the chapter and having it drive her thoughts throughout - at least that was the plan.

A special note to DanjaDoom if he's reading this: I finally found a place to use the 'B' word.

[Mirage_GSM]

Nice to see this continue.
Very well written as usual. The only thing that seeme da bit off was when Naoko came over. I'm still not quite certain why she did so...
Well, it's okay as long as you know