Scraps and Runoff

[WetCrate]

Just plain garbage that I've been scribbling because... Just because, I guess.

There are three "stories," though I use the term very loosely because these are really just ideas given enough space to roam but not enough to avoid sleeping in their own feces.

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'I can't lie like this anymore, Shizune. I like Misha.' Hisao's signs were still sloppy. Misha refused to look Shizune in the eye, from across the student council room. 'I'm sorry.'

The blue-haired girl pushed past Hisao, toward her ex-best friend. Misha's golden eyes were finally fixed on Shizune's, and were afraid. 'So you're stealing my boyfriend?' A flinch, and Misha dropped her eyes again. 'I'm talking to you!' Fingers snapped, getting the girl's attention. 'Are you stealing my boyfriend?'

Hisao moved in front of his new lover, but Shizune roughly pushed him out of the way. From the corner of her eye she saw the boy fall to the ground roughly, but Shizune's focus was on Misha. 'Answer my question.'

There was no laugh, no bright cheery smile. 'I'm sorry, Shicchan. I didn't want-'

'Yes or no?'

Her head nodded once, giant pink curls bobbing from the movement.

No tears. 'You're both off of the student council. You've lost my trust, and I can't work with you if I don't trust you. Now get out.'

'But, Shicchan-'

'Don't you think you're being too formal? After all, we're not friends.' Watery gold eyes trembled. Weak. If you show emotion like that you'll give me the upper hand. 'You can call me Hakamichi, or President. But Shicchan is unacceptable.'

'Now wait a minute, Shizune.' Hisao had regained his feet and moved next to Misha. 'You're being too harsh. It's not like-'

'Like what?' I said no tears. Shizune's eyes started to burn. 'It's not like she knew we were going out? It's not like she and I talked late into the night about you, and our relationship? It's not like I told her I loved you before I told you?' A rogue tear wound down Shizune's red face. 'Well that's not possible, Nakai, because all of those things did happen. She knew. And so did you.' Turning her back to Brutus and Judas, Shizune flung an angry finger toward the door. Just get out.

Shadows moved across the room. Shizune felt the door close behind her.

Water dripped onto the floor. I thought I said no tears...

----------

Fall arrived without Shizune so much as looking at either Misha or Hisao. Not for their lack of trying, of course. Notes, confrontations, schemes involving the head nurse: all went unheeded. You're dead to me.

Then Misha started missing class. Dark circles appeared under Hisao's eyes, skin pale from lack of sleep. Whispers around campus: Misha wasn't doing well.

Maybe one of her ulcers will kill her. She deserves it. The pink-haired girl had always had trouble with her stomach. It seemed that justice was finally catching up to the harlot.

'Her body isn't reacting to the treatments. Medication doesn't help and she refuses surgery.' Hisao's eyes, angry but helpless, captivated Shizune. 'She needs you right now, Shizune. Please, don't do this.' Hisao's signing was awful, but the look in his eyes had been worse. 'Just go and see her.'

Shizune never did make it to the hospital, nor to the funeral. Misha's desk still had flowers on it, even weeks after she'd passed, but none were from her.

How is one supposed to handle betrayal? Just shrug and forget it ever happened?

Wind rattled the window. The vibrations ran through the wall, to Shizune's back. She looked up to see a dark, dreary November sky. November 1. Happy birthday, slut.

Suddenly even the small light coming through the window disappeared. Shizune turned, but couldn't make anything out, even the window. She felt for the edge of the bed and stepped off lightly, moved to the light switch. It wasn't working either.

"Shizune."

Terror gripped the deaf girl. Something she'd never felt before.

"Shizune."

Oh, God, what is going on? She brought her hands to her ears, tried to drown out the strange sensations.

"Shicchan. I know you can hear me."

I can... hear?

Misha appeared before her. Shizune could see nothing else. Her dead friend was dressed in the Yamaku uniform, like always. 'Misha?'

"Talk to me." There should have been something behind Misha, a bedside table. But there wasn't. There was nothing.

'I am talking to you. Misha, what are you doing here?' Shizune's signing was slow, frightened.

"No. Don't sign. Talk."

Some malevolent force opened her mouth for her, forced air past her inexperienced vocal cords. "Misha?" The vibrations running through her throat scared her to death. Tears dripped down the girl's face. "What's going on?" I sound... odd. My voice is so low. "Please, Misha, how are you here? You're dead."

That odd sensation returned. "Yes, I'm dead. All I wanted, before I died, was to apologize to my best friend." The deceased girl started to glow, a dull red corona shining around her phantasm. "I never meant to hurt you. I couldn't control my feelings any more than you could control your hearing. But you wouldn't even come to see me." A high-pitched whine started in the background. Misha's red aura increased in intensity. "All I wanted, Shizune, was to talk to you. To see you one last time. To tell you how badly I felt."

The noise grew in volume. To Shizune's left and right, red lights appeared, started moving toward her. "What's going on, Misha?" The tears were coming faster now, and Shizune was huddling against what she assumed was her dorm room door. "W-What is this?"

"I was so distraught, Shizune, that I couldn't die in peace. I couldn't pass on." Misha's golden eyes turned jet-black. "I couldn't even die without seeing you. And now it's too late." The red lights approached Shizune; she could see that they were spiders, almost 10 cm across not counting the legs, fire-red and phosphorescent. They were coming for her. "I can't go to the afterlife, Shizune. Shicchan." Misha's pink hair started to writhe of its own accord. "And I've come to make sure that you can't, either."

The spiders were almost upon her. She started swatting at them desperately, sending them flying. Other spiders were instantly upon their fallen comrades, devouring them in seconds. Those who had feasted glowed a brighter red, almost orange.

"No." Shizune could feel the arachnids all over her body. No matter how quickly she moved her hands, she couldn't get them all off. The door moved behind her; hot breath washed over her body. "No!"

"Yes, Shizune." Misha's face was completely hidden, behind a blackness so dark it seemed to draw her in. "I've come for you, and I'm not leaving until I'm satisfied."

"No, no! NO!" The spiders covered Shizune. A sharp pain in her leg; one of the spiders had plunged its glowing abdomen into her flesh. Immediately pain shot up and down her body. "Aaaagh! NO! Misha, please! PLEASE!" More of the attackers plunged into her skin, corrupting her flesh. The monstrosity behind Shizune grinned, wide and hungry, revealing missing and rotted teeth. One of its three misshapen hands moved to stroke her cheek, almost gently, rubbing blisters that oozed with pus across her face.

Misha's voice pierced the fear-induced haze. "You wouldn't come and see me, Shicchan. It's been a while since we've spoken. We should catch up." Writhing pink centipedes jutted from Misha's head haphazardly, coalesced into an appendage, gently brushed against Shizune's other cheek. "After all, we've got all the time in the world, now."

All the blue-haired girl could feel was pain.

"I missed you, Shicchan." A dark line appeared on Misha's body, splitting it down the middle from her collarbone to her groin. It widened to reveal a row of razor-sharp teeth, dripping with some unknown fluid that sizzled when it fell to the floor.

"Give your friend a hug."

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"It's hard to believe I heard you correctly." I reached a shaking hand out to Lilly, let it drop. Hot tears seeped through her fingers. "...Are you serious?"

"I know you don't want me now." The girl turned roughly, toward the wall and away from my wide-eyed stare. "I wouldn't want me either."

"Lilly." Her shoulders started to shake. "Lilly, look at me." She refused.

I couldn't very well grab her shoulders and turn her forcefully, not after what I'd heard. So I just stood, stood and stared as the girl I loved most in the world hugged her stomach and cried. The long, pale hair I ached to stroke covered her neck, but I could tell that she wasn't lying. I could see the scars, working their way down the base of her skull along her spine.

"Lilly, I..." I had to say something, anything. I couldn't just leave it like that. "Lilly, I don't care."

Suddenly she whirled on me, fists flying. I took a blow to the eye, and one to the sternum before I could wrap my arms around her. She pounded ineffectually against my chest. Well, not so ineffectually. I could feel my heart struggling to keep up with the pounding. It took a while to realize that she wasn't hitting me anymore; my blood was surging in my ears, throbbing. The pain hadn't left.

But there was no time for that. This wasn't about me. Lilly was hurting. "I-I'm sorry." The surging pain in my chest made me stutter a bit, but I tried to keep from passing out, fighting off the tunnel vision through sheer willpower. "I... don't really know what to say, what I can say." She shivered against my chest; my left arm was starting to go numb. "I c-can't imagine how terrible that would be."

Lilly's scars... they were so... apparent. I was amazed I'd never noticed before. The thick, puckered flesh ran from the base of her neck downward, into her white blouse. I could count four different scars, all at different angles, all terrible to behold. Purple and swollen, even after all this time.

"Why wouldn't I want you?" One by one the fingers on my left hand lost feeling. "I love you. Being abused doesn't affect that." I clung to the feeling of her face pressed against my chest, her delicate wrists in my hands. She moved her head back and forth, dragging her red eyes against my shirt.

"No. I'm horrible."

"You're my girlfriend. And I love you." With my working arm I brought a hand up to her face, lifted her chin, touched our foreheads together. I closed my eyes, forced words past my fear-clenched throat. "I will always love you."

And, the last thing I ever did, I kissed her. Adrenaline surged through my veins; the final experience in my short life was the, softest most tender kiss the world has ever seen.

I collapsed, Lilly screamed, and I died.

The funeral was short. I watched from my small makeshift memorial shrine in the Yamaku auditorium, adorned with flowers and a single picture of me, before finding out about my heart defect, when I was still a normal, happy young boy. Lilly didn't show up. I don't blame her. She's had enough pain in her life. I'd rather she forget me.

Here I sit, in my old dorm room, now occupied by a rather obnoxious young paraplegic. It's unfortunate that you have to stay within a certain distance of where you died. I'd love to go see the ocean one more time, or the mountains. Or even town.

From my lonely perch in the corner between the ceiling and the far wall, I watch, incredulous, as Lilly walks through the door, with the translucent body I have come to associate with the dead, and the face of an angel. Like me, she is nude, but there is no body to blush, no organs to engorge, no hormones to rage. Her eyes...

"Lilly." My room's new occupant sneezes as Lilly passes through him, starts to float toward me. Her beautiful blue eyes are clear, and they shimmer with emotion. "Your eyes..."

Non-lips press against my un-mouth. I feel a breeze, from somewhere, the first feeling I've had since my untimely death. Breathless despite our lack of lungs, we part. I've wrapped what used to be my arms around her body – her back is smooth, unmarred by drunken beatings and makeshift whips. "I'm sorry. I... killed myself." Softly, a whisper in my ear. "I couldn't bear to live with the thought that I killed you, Hisao. I... I died when you did." Wispy blonde hair frames her sad smile perfectly. "I wanted to see you again." She brings a translucent hand to my cheek and looks – looks – into my eyes. "I wanted to see you."

"Lilly..." Again we kiss. Somewhere below us my young roommate sneezes once more as the air around us burns white, brighter than a magnesium fire.

When it clears we are gone.

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"You know that's bad for you, don't you, Hicchan?" Misha stands behind to me, her hands on her hips, and glares. I take a slow drag of my cigarette and nod. "It's bad for you! With your heart condition, you could be in real trouble if you don't stop!"

My legs are dangling off the roof of the school. My back is to the fence, my body perched precariously on the small ledge between it and the open air. "I know." Ash drifts into the wind as I flick the increasingly short cylinder of tobacco.

"Hicchan!" I keep facing forward. "This is serious business! You could be in real trouble, you know?" My shoulders shrug slightly. "Don't you care?" I shrug again, watch the cherry burn bright as I inhale. "Hicchan!" A smoke ring wafts lazily toward the sky. "Whoa~!" marvels the girl behind me, suddenly sounding much less upset. "Whoa! Do that again, Hicchan~! That was amazing!"

The warm sensation of inhaling fire soothes me. I curl my tongue and breathe out just so; Misha laughs gleefully and claps her hands. "I thought you didn't like me smoking."

"Ah!" I can hear the girl catch herself, I can see her frown in my mind's eye. My mouth turns up in a small smirk. "That's right! You shouldn't be smoking, Hicchan!" The chain link fence rattles behind me and I look up to see Misha climbing, one foot just above the gray wall against my back, one at her waist, the toe of her shoe stuck through one of the small metal openings.

I can see her panties, but say nothing. One last drag of my cigarette, and I flick the butt off the edge of the school, enjoying at the view of delicate white cotton undergarments. "That's dangerous, you know."

She swings one leg over the top, short arms supporting her weight via the top bar. I watch as the other leg sails over. "Wah!" she exclaims suddenly, her foot slipping out of its ring, dropping her weight.

"Whoa!" Immediately I'm up, weight balanced on the narrow strip of concrete, and I place a hand on her body, trying to at least slow the momentum. But she's fine. Her hands are still gripping the top of the fence, and she glares back at me, at my hand placed squarely on her rear end. The white panties are remarkably soft. Her green skirt flutters above my hand as a sharp gust of wind rips over the roof. "You all right?" She swats my hand away roughly and drops her weight on the ledge abruptly, one hand securely entwined in the fence's links.

"I'm fine." She doesn't blush, but then again neither do I. Soon my back is against the short retaining wall again, my shoes hanging freely in the air. "Hisao!" cries Misha as I reach into my pocket and pull out the white package of cigarettes. "Hope?" I shrug and pull a square out of the box, raise it to my lips. "Hisao!" Her hand whips out and snatches the offending object, a fingernail biting painfully into my lip in the process. "I told you to stop!"

With one finger I rub at my mouth. It comes away bloody. "That was uncalled for."

"Ah!" Even as she breaks the cigarette and scatters the tobacco I pull out another, and quickly light it. "Hisao~!" She's got her hands on her hips again.

My smirk is a bit painful, with the cut lip. "Have a seat."

She eyes the strip of solid ground nervously, then gathers herself visibly and proceeds to scold me some more. "This is no time for jokes! I'm here to stop you from smoking!" She bends over and reaches across my body, toward my right hand, but I extend the arm and pull it just out of her reach. "Hicchan! Stop it!" She struggles, putting a hand on my shoulder for support. My arm stretches further, and I gaze longingly at the smoke drifting from my hand. Such a waste. "Just give it to me!" One final surge and I can feel her breasts press against my face.

Finally Misha straightens and crosses her arms underneath her chest. "Mou~" she whines, pouting. "Hicchan, why won't you listen to me?"

"Have a seat." My left hand pats the cement next to me, the cigarette already dangling from my lips.

It is several tense seconds before I take any more action. "Here, look." Another smoke ring drifts into the air, and despite the stern look on her face I can see Misha's eyes light up.

"...Fine." Down the retaining wall she slides, one hand behind her head holding onto the fence for safety. Then she's landed, and the girl adjusts her skirt beneath her. A sideways glance. "When did you start smoking?"

"Last year."

Misha kicks her legs back and forth, like a little girl. "Why'd you start?"

"No reason." Somewhere below us other students look up and notice us sitting. One points.

"Come on, tell me! There had to be a reason, right? Right?"

"Not really." Another breath of fresh tar.

Misha isn't satisfied with my answer. Her frown is back, and I can see why she and Shizune get along so well. "Tell me!"

"Hey, why'd you come up here anyway?" The students below lose interest and go on with their business.

"That's right!" The girl beside me straightens. "Shicchan was looking for you!"

I figured as much. "Need me for more heavy lifting?"

"Wahahahaha~!" Misha's cacophony of laughter draws more looks from below, but those students, too, quickly lose interest. "Hicchan, you're an important part of the Student Council! Don't you want to help your school?" A noncommittal grunt passes my lips. "Aw, Hicchan, don't be like that! It's important, don't you think?" Another grunt.

"Why do you and Shizune spend so much time with me, anyway? Does she have the hots for me, or something?" Another used filter sails off of the roof.

From the corner of my eye I can see Misha start at my deduction, then she laughs loudly again. "Wahahahaha~! Hicchan, you're smart! I didn't even know until recently!"

"Well, it's kind of hard not to notice. She's hardly subtle." Not the way Shizune is always on my case about the smallest things, making sure Misha is out of the room half the time we're together, and the way she enjoys teasing me. Maybe some people would mistake that kind of behavior for loathing, but I remember elementary school. You're mean to the people you like.

"You think?" Misha watches me pull out another cigarette and light it. "Wow, you really like smoking, don't you?" I decline to respond.

Neither of us speak for a moment, letting the sun and the breeze do the talking instead. It is a gorgeous day in early fall, and the air smells of the coming cold. That, and cigarette smoke.

"So so, do you like Shicchan?" I can't help but cough, surprised as I am from the sudden question. "Whoa! See? I TOLD you smoking was bad for you!" She's scowling at me again, but I'm too busy hacking up a lung to pay much attention.

When I regain control of my body I toss a disgusted look at the cigarette and discard it, still mostly good. I feel sick to my stomach. "What kind of question is that?"

"Hu hu~" My pink-haired classmate is covering her mouth impishly. "Hicchan likes Shicchan, Hicchan likes Shicchan~!"

I decide not to take the bait. Instead of reacting angrily, I answer with an honest, "Nah, not really." Misha's face freezes. "Don't get me wrong, she's nice enough in her own way, but I only like her as a friend."

"Oh." For a split second Misha's eyes glow with glee, then her face falls into the sad frown I expected. "That's too bad, Hicchan, because Shicchan really likes you!" My heart skips a beat. "Is it because there's someone else you like?"

My façade of cool indifference melts away with a chuckle. "Worried about Shizune?"

"Of course!" A strong pose, hands on her hips, shoulders square, chest puffed out. "She's my best friend! I've got to look out for her!"

Slowly scratching the scar on my chest I sigh. Guess I was wrong. "Well, I do like someone else. You're pretty cute." A fierce blush spreads across Misha's face, matching her hair. I don't know that I've seen her blush before. She turns her head away quickly, speechless, another first. I let out a long, strong laugh that carries across the Yamaku school grounds. Misha nervously smooths her skirts as my mirth winds down. "Wow, you turned as red as a tomato!"

"Hicchan, you're mean~!" She punches me in the arm and crosses her arms in a huff. "You shouldn't tease girls like that!" Her face is still glowing a healthy shade of red.

Now it's my turn to fidget uncomfortably. "I know." I fix my eyes on the blue sky above. "I wasn't teasing." The soothing wind suddenly turns cold, and I shiver a bit. Or maybe it isn't the wind. Suddenly shaky, my hand races for the familiar rectangular object in my pocket. Dry paper rubs against the cut on my lip, but I ignore the pain, the dried blood, and start to hurriedly flick the flint on my lighter. The wind refuses to let me light the cigarette, however, and I spend a few moments shaking the green plastic piece of shit up and down, furiously working at the ridged wheel.

Finally the familiar orange flame sprouts up from the metal cap and I take a deep drag. Oh, that's the stuff.

Misha's head hits my shoulder. My mouth drops open, and the cigarette falls, bounces off of my pants, then continues to the pavement below. I can't see the girl's face, but the warmth of her body says enough. "Misha...?"

Suddenly she's holding onto me tightly, clutching my arm to her chest. "I like you too, Hicchan."

The sensation of this girl holding onto me for dear life is so pleasant that it takes me a while to register her words. I can feel adrenaline rush through my body, and I scratch at my face nervously. "R-Really?"

She nods against my body.

I say nothing. There's nothing to say. We stay like that for a long while, just enjoying each others' company, reveling in touch and smell. Her shampoo reminds me of flowers; the skin of her hands is warm through my light button-down shirt.

"Say, Hicchan?" Lifting her face she looks at me from beneath cherry blossom-colored bangs. "Can I have a cigarette?" The smile that spreads across my face makes Misha blush and frown. "What? Don't be mean, Hicchan, I was only asking!"

"No, no, of course you can." Out comes the box, and I open it to find only one smoke is left. A moment of panic, then I steel my resolve and pop the tobacco into my mouth, light it, and take a drag. Before Misha can react I pass it to her. "Here, I started it for you."

Her blush reappears in full force, probably caused by the implications of her lips touching the same filter as mine. Her fingers reach out to accept my gift. She peers oddly at it for a second, then she raises it to her lips hesitantly. "Like... this?"

"Just take it slowly-" I start, but before I can finish the thought she's coughing. Her arm thrusts the offending cigarette back towards me, and I smile. She's just too cute. "I told you, take it slowly." She's still coughing, but I gently push the hand back toward her. I start to rub her back soothingly and soon she's recovered. "Here, try again, but just take it easy." I guide the cigarette to her lips. "Draw a little into your mouth, like sucking on a straw," I mimic the action, "then inhale it gently. It's going to be hard at first, but just remember to breathe as normally as you can."

I watch her body shake as the unfamiliar toxin enters her body, but she keeps from coughing again, much to her credit. Still, the cigarette is soon back in my mouth, and Misha is frowning. "That tastes terrible."

A shrug. "You get used to it." I inhale and puff out a plume of smoke. "After a while."

She clamps onto my leg with a hand. "Whoa, I feel dizzy."

"One puff and you're buzzing?" I smile, but she obviously doesn't feel good. "Here," I offer her my arm, "hold on to me. I won't let you fall."

As her head nuzzles into my shoulder again I can't help but smile. Birds fly by overhead and my grin widens. "Hey, Misha?"

"Yeah?" She lifts her golden eyes to me.

"You're welcome to join me for a cigarette any time."

Misha's cheeks flush. She treats me to a rare, shy smile. "...Sounds like fun."

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[The Commissar]

@Scrap 1

Remember kids, Chaos does weird to you. Do not go into strangers' houses. They may be cultists.

@Scrap 2

Heartrendingly sad.

@Scrap 3

Set-up for scrap 1, maybe?

Also, how are your other stories coming along, Crate?

[Layzuhl]

Two scraps about ghosts, my inner /x/ is beaming.

[U.T. Raptor]

bulbawut2.png (22.68 KiB) Viewed 7832 times

Also, go post this on /x/. I don't think they've had any KS threads yet...

[SirMax]

1 was waaaay wtf. 2 was a bit... eh. I dunno, nothing wrong about it so much, just a bit disjointed and with a pinch of cliché. Loved the third one though, although dang, Hisao is a MASSIVELY heavy smoker...

[vermithrx]

These were fun to read. If the following criticisms of scraps 1 and 2 seem harsh, it's because I have a personal bias against the supernatural without heavy foreshadowing or unless the writer puts an effort into creating a setting by which it becomes marginally believable. (Maybe those are really the same thing.)
Scrap 1:
I enjoyed the begining and thought you were setting up a full exploration of how she might deal with her feelings of betrayal and eventually move past them... but then a monster came out of nowhere and ate her. It was rather unexpected and disappointing. Also, I found Shizune being able to hear and speak perfectly all of a sudden and accepting that fact moments later to be pretty unbelievable.
Scrap 2:
The beginning of this one is very disorienting because Lilly is acting a lot like one would expect of Hanako and you don't make it easily apparent who is supposed to be who until late in the scene. Oddly enough, it gets progressively more believable after Hisao dies and the end is very moving. I find it an amusing paradox that you're imagery after that consists almost entirely of pointing out how there is no image to portray.
Scrap 3:
I have nothing to say here other than well done... and damn you for making a smoking habit look endearing!

[Bara]

Damm it! I've quit smoking 3 times already; are you pushing me towards starting again?!!
Number 3 was a stone cold wench. The 4th would probably kill me.

[SnigendePind]

While reading Scrap3, I suddenly bursted out "Nicenicenicenicenicenicenicenice!"

So that´s my comment.

Nicenicenicenicenicenicenicenice!

Moar?

[SnigendePind]

I rewrote SCRAP 3 to fit with my mood right now... :3





"You know that's bad for you, don't you, Hicchan?" Misha stands behind to me, her hands on her hips, and glares. I take a slow drag of my blunt and nod. "It's bad for you! With your heart condition, you could be in real trouble if you don't stop!"

My legs are dangling off the roof of the school. My back is to the fence, my body perched precariously on the small ledge between it and the open air. "I know." Ash drifts into the wind as I flick the increasingly short cylinder of weed.

"Hicchan!" I keep facing forward. "This is serious business! You could be in real trouble, you know?" My shoulders shrug slightly. "Don't you care?" I shrug again, watch the cherry burn bright as I inhale. "Hicchan!" A smoke ring wafts lazily toward the sky. "Whoa~!" marvels the girl behind me, suddenly sounding much less upset. "Whoa! Do that again, Hicchan~! That was amazing!"

The warm sensation of inhaling fire soothes me. I curl my tongue and breathe out just so; Misha laughs gleefully and claps her hands. "I thought you didn't like me smoking weed."

"Ah!" I can hear the girl catch herself, I can see her frown in my mind's eye. My mouth turns up in a small smirk. "That's right! You shouldn't be smoking weed, Hicchan!" The chain link fence rattles behind me and I look up to see Misha climbing, one foot just above the gray wall against my back, one at her waist, the toe of her shoe stuck through one of the small metal openings.

I can see her panties, but say nothing. One last drag of my blunt, and I flick the butt off the edge of the school, enjoying at the view of delicate white cotton undergarments. "That's dangerous, you know."

She swings one leg over the top, short arms supporting her weight via the top bar. I watch as the other leg sails over. "Wah!" she exclaims suddenly, her foot slipping out of its ring, dropping her weight.

"Whoa!" Immediately I'm up, weight balanced on the narrow strip of concrete, and I place a hand on her body, trying to at least slow the momentum. But she's fine. Her hands are still gripping the top of the fence, and she glares back at me, at my hand placed squarely on her rear end. The white panties are remarkably soft. Her green skirt flutters above my hand as a sharp gust of wind rips over the roof. "You all right?" She swats my hand away roughly and drops her weight on the ledge abruptly, one hand securely entwined in the fence's links.

"I'm fine." She doesn't blush, but then again neither do I. Soon my back is against the short retaining wall again, my shoes hanging freely in the air. "Hisao!" cries Misha as I reach into my pocket and pull out the bag with my weed. "Hope?" I shrug and pull bit of weed out of the bag, and begins to roll another blunt . "Hisao!" Her hand whips out and snatches the weed, a fingernail biting painfully into my finger in the process. "I told you to stop!"

With one finger I rub at my hurt finger. It comes away bloody. "That was uncalled for."

"Ah!" Even as she breaks the weed and scatters it I pull out a premade, and quickly light it. "Hisao~!" She's got her hands on her hips again.

My smirk is a bit painful, with the cut lip. "Have a seat."

She eyes the strip of solid ground nervously, then gathers herself visibly and proceeds to scold me some more. "This is no time for jokes! I'm here to stop you from smoking weed!" She bends over and reaches across my body, toward my right hand, but I extend the arm and pull it just out of her reach. "Hicchan! Stop it!" She struggles, putting a hand on my shoulder for support. My arm stretches further, and I gaze longingly at the smoke drifting from my hand. Such a waste. "Just give it to me!" One final surge and I can feel her breasts press against my face.

Finally Misha straightens and crosses her arms underneath her chest. "Mou~" she whines, pouting. "Hicchan, why won't you listen to me?"

"Have a seat." My left hand pats the cement next to me, the blunt already dangling from my lips.

It is several tense seconds before I take any more action. "Here, look." Another smoke ring drifts into the air, and despite the stern look on her face I can see Misha's eyes light up.

"...Fine." Down the retaining wall she slides, one hand behind her head holding onto the fence for safety. Then she's landed, and the girl adjusts her skirt beneath her. A sideways glance. "When did you start smoking weed?"

"Last year."

Misha kicks her legs back and forth, like a little girl. "Why'd you start?"

"No reason." Somewhere below us other students look up and notice us sitting. One points.

"Come on, tell me! There had to be a reason, right? Right?"

"Not really." Another breath of fresh THC.

Misha isn't satisfied with my answer. Her frown is back, and I can see why she and Shizune get along so well. "Tell me!"

"Hey, why'd you come up here anyway?" The students below lose interest and go on with their business.

"That's right!" The girl beside me straightens. "Shicchan was looking for you!"

I figured as much. "Need me for more heavy lifting?"

"Wahahahaha~!" Misha's cacophony of laughter draws more looks from below, but those students, too, quickly lose interest. "Hicchan, you're an important part of the Student Council! Don't you want to help your school?" A noncommittal grunt passes my lips. "Aw, Hicchan, don't be like that! It's important, don't you think?" Another grunt.

"Why do you and Shizune spend so much time with me, anyway? Does she have the hots for me, or something?" Another used filter sails off of the roof.

From the corner of my eye I can see Misha start at my deduction, then she laughs loudly again. "Wahahahaha~! Hicchan, you're smart! I didn't even know until recently!"

"Well, it's kind of hard not to notice. She's hardly subtle." Not the way Shizune is always on my case about the smallest things, making sure Misha is out of the room half the time we're together, and the way she enjoys teasing me. Maybe some people would mistake that kind of behavior for loathing, but I remember elementary school. You're mean to the people you like.

"You think?" Misha watches me take a deep hit. "Wow, you really like smoking weed, don't you?" I decline to respond.

Neither of us speak for a moment, letting the sun and the breeze do the talking instead. It is a gorgeous day in early fall, and the air smells of the coming cold. That, and weed smoke.

"So so, do you like Shicchan?" I can't help but cough, surprised as I am from the sudden question. "Whoa! See? I TOLD you smoking was bad for you!" She's scowling at me again, but I'm too busy hacking up a lung to pay much attention.

When I regain control of my body I toss a disgusted look at the blunt and discard it, still mostly good. I feel sick to my stomach. "What kind of question is that?"

"Hu hu~" My pink-haired classmate is covering her mouth impishly. "Hicchan likes Shicchan, Hicchan likes Shicchan~!"

I decide not to take the bait. Instead of reacting angrily, I answer with an honest, "Nah, not really." Misha's face freezes. "Don't get me wrong, she's nice enough in her own way, but I only like her as a friend."

"Oh." For a split second Misha's eyes glow with glee, then her face falls into the sad frown I expected. "That's too bad, Hicchan, because Shicchan really likes you!" My heart skips a beat. "Is it because there's someone else you like?"

My façade of cool indifference melts away with a chuckle. "Worried about Shizune?"

"Of course!" A strong pose, hands on her hips, shoulders square, chest puffed out. "She's my best friend! I've got to look out for her!"

Slowly scratching the scar on my chest I sigh. Guess I was wrong. "Well, I do like someone else. You're pretty cute." A fierce blush spreads across Misha's face, matching her hair. I don't know that I've seen her blush before. She turns her head away quickly, speechless, another first. I let out a long, strong laugh that carries across the Yamaku school grounds. Misha nervously smooths her skirts as my mirth winds down. "Wow, you turned as red as a tomato!"

"Hicchan, you're mean~!" She punches me in the arm and crosses her arms in a huff. "You shouldn't tease girls like that!" Her face is still glowing a healthy shade of red.

Now it's my turn to fidget uncomfortably. "I know." I fix my eyes on the blue sky above. "I wasn't teasing." The soothing wind suddenly turns cold, and I shiver a bit. Or maybe it isn't the wind. Suddenly shaky, my hand races for the familiar bag in my pocket. Dry paper rubs against the wound on my finger, but I ignore the pain, the dried blood, and start to hurriedly flick the flint on my lighter. The wind refuses to let me light the blunt, however, and I spend a few moments shaking the green plastic piece of shit up and down, furiously working at the ridged wheel.

Finally the familiar orange flame sprouts up from the metal cap and I take a deep drag. Oh, that's the stuff.

Misha's head hits my shoulder. My mouth drops open, and the blunt falls, bounces off of my pants, then continues to the pavement below. I can't see the girl's face, but the warmth of her body says enough. "Misha...?"

Suddenly she's holding onto me tightly, clutching my arm to her chest. "I like you too, Hicchan."

The sensation of this girl holding onto me for dear life is so pleasant that it takes me a while to register her words. I can feel adrenaline rush through my body, and I scratch at my face nervously. "R-Really?"

She nods against my body.

I say nothing. There's nothing to say. We stay like that for a long while, just enjoying each others' company, reveling in touch and smell. Her shampoo reminds me of flowers; the skin of her hands is warm through my light button-down shirt.

"Say, Hicchan?" Lifting her face she looks at me from beneath cherry blossom-colored bangs. "Can I have a riff?" The smile that spreads across my face makes Misha blush and frown. "What? Don't be mean, Hicchan, I was only asking!"

"No, no, of course you can." Out comes the bag, and I open it to find only enough weed for one more is left. A moment of panic, then I steel my resolve and pop the weed up, roll a blunt, light it, and take a drag. Before Misha can react I pass it to her. "Here, I started it for you."

Her blush reappears in full force, probably caused by the implications of her lips touching the same filter as mine. Her fingers reach out to accept my gift. She peers oddly at it for a second, then she raises it to her lips hesitantly. "Like... this?"

"Just take it slowly-" I start, but before I can finish the thought she's coughing. Her arm thrusts the offending blunt back towards me, and I smile. She's just too cute. "I told you, take it slowly." She's still coughing, but I gently push the hand back toward her. I start to rub her back soothingly and soon she's recovered. "Here, try again, but just take it easy." I guide the stick to her lips. "Draw a little into your mouth, like sucking on a straw," I mimic the action, "then inhale it gently. It's going to be hard at first, but just remember to breathe as normally as you can."

I watch her body shake as the unfamiliar drug enters her body, but she keeps from coughing again, much to her credit. Still, the blunt is soon back in my mouth, and Misha is frowning. "That tastes weird."

A shrug. "You get used to it." I inhale and puff out a plume of smoke. "After a while."

She clamps onto my leg with a hand. "Whoa, I feel dizzy."

"One puff and you're high?" I smile, but she obviously doesn't feel good. "Here," I offer her my arm, "hold on to me. I won't let you fall. But don't green out on me!"

As her head nuzzles into my shoulder again I can't help but smile. Birds fly by overhead and my grin widens. "Hey, Misha?"

"Yeah?" She lifts her golden eyes to me.

"You're welcome to smoke with me some other time, brah"

Misha's cheeks flush. She treats me to a rare, shy smile. "That's a deal, bro..."

[SirMax]

1) Does Hisao really not mind dropping illegal drugs with his fingerprints all over the place?
2) Is he immune to cannabis? He seems totally unaffected by smoking it.

[Captain Niggawatts]

What the shit.

[SnigendePind]

1) Does Hisao really not mind dropping illegal drugs with his fingerprints all over the place?
2) Is he immune to cannabis? He seems totally unaffected by smoking it.

1: He's at a school with disabled children. They have plenty of students who use medical marijuana, so they don't notice.
2: When you smoke as much as him, you don't feel so much.

Yeah, I was baked when I wrote it.

[Captain Niggawatts]

1) Does Hisao really not mind dropping illegal drugs with his fingerprints all over the place?
2) Is he immune to cannabis? He seems totally unaffected by smoking it.

1: He's at a school with disabled children. They have plenty of students who use medical marijuana, so they don't notice.
2: When you smoke as much as him, you don't feel so much.

Yeah, I was baked when I wrote it.

1. Marijuana is illegal in Japan. There is no medical marijuana. Furthermore, even in the US, they wouldn't give illegal drugs to children medicinally.

2. Hisao doesn't smoke, at all. It's one thing to tweak personality traits a bit in your fanfics, because nobody can expect to be 100% accurate. Even when the character is your own creation, consistency can be difficult. But when you make such an audacious adjustment to the character's personality, it's both inaccurate and a little insulting.

Obviously, it wouldn't be a big deal if you painted Hisao as someone who smoked pot, because even though it's extremely unlikely, it's still possible that he might. But you not only paint him as a chronic smoker, but make the entire focal point of the story smoking pot. If all you wanted to do was write a piece of pro-cannabis propaganda, you should at least use your own characters rather than subvert somebody else's.

[SnigendePind]

1) Does Hisao really not mind dropping illegal drugs with his fingerprints all over the place?
2) Is he immune to cannabis? He seems totally unaffected by smoking it.

1: He's at a school with disabled children. They have plenty of students who use medical marijuana, so they don't notice.
2: When you smoke as much as him, you don't feel so much.

Yeah, I was baked when I wrote it.

1. Marijuana is illegal in Japan. There is no medical marijuana. Furthermore, even in the US, they wouldn't give illegal drugs to children medicinally.

2. Hisao doesn't smoke, at all. It's one thing to tweak personality traits a bit in your fanfics, because nobody can expect to be 100% accurate. Even when the character is your own creation, consistency can be difficult. But when you make such an audacious adjustment to the character's personality, it's both inaccurate and a little insulting.

Obviously, it wouldn't be a big deal if you painted Hisao as someone who smoked pot, because even though it's extremely unlikely, it's still possible that he might. But you not only paint him as a chronic smoker, but make the entire focal point of the story smoking pot. If all you wanted to do was write a piece of pro-cannabis propaganda, you should at least use your own characters rather than subvert somebody else's.

DUDE! Chill out, man! The original cigarette smoking Hisao was created last year, and I got high and remembered this yesterday, and decided to rewrite it! Don't be all so analytical about it.

Smoke more, chill out.