Running on empty [Emi's good end cont'd.] (updated: 3/9)

[edward_low]

I probably wouldn't have written this if I had access to an Emi fanfiction as well-written as Guest Poster's 'Sisterhood' - the best Hanako epilogue I've read so far, by far.

Hanako is perfectly adorable and definitely fun to write about. But the path in front of her seems rather clearly defined as 'getting more social'. I'd like to think that Emi is a bit different. More open-ended.

It's not easy to write Emi, because she's so cheerful and disarming. With Hisao at least, Emi is always leading the conversation, the small-talk. There's little doubt that she's good at socialising, making her presence attractive, wanted. There's little doubt she's pretty damn good at making you fall in love. While the (good) ending in Katawa Shoujo was immensely satisfying, I think her character warrants a little more analysis, a little more love. That's putting it mildly! I think Emi, when alone, is a very different Emi than we're used to. The same way that Hisao notices that Emi 'getting in the zone' (as she shuts everything and everyone else out) on the track is a fiercer, different, Emi. We'll see.

So, the essentials. This carries on from Emi's good end. This will be fairly traumatic. I know how this piece of fanfiction will end. The narrative perspective may shift between Emi and Hisao without warning, though it should be fairly obvious who the narrator is. There will probably be graphic sex, though nothing gratuitous. There will definitely be swearing, and it will be gratuitous.

And fuck formatting, seriously.

It's been ten years since I've written seriously (I was ten), so I hope you will forgive the numerous errors that I will inevitably make. I plan to update at least once every week. Do comment, or PM me your feedback. It means a lot. Thank you.

---

Prologue:

'Ibarazaki E-Emi.'

The name doesn't roll off my tongue, unlike what you would expect. It's a bit odd, isn't it? Of most of the names you know, you probably say your own the least. Much like how you'll don't dial your own cell phone number, so much so that telecommunication companies have to list it automatically in your phone's contact list, lest you forget.

'Ibarazaki Emi.'

Referring to myself in the third person felt oddly comforting. It did feel like I was someone else. There was a phase - about two weeks - where Rin was caught in a bout of idiosyncratic illeism. It was delightfully cute, but it disappeared after a fortnight. Where did it go?

'Ibarazaki Emi.'

The female bathroom at the dormitories is rarely empty. I'm grateful for the privacy. I've always been grateful for privacy. It's one of the perks of running with Hisao every morning - the timing is usually such that most of the female students are at breakfast, leaving me alone in the bathroom, with shower and mirror.

'Emi.'

I know what people think of when they hear that name. The cheery, happy-go-lucky, eternally energetic Emi. My parents even deviated from the conventional kanji for the mora 'え' (e), choosing to use the character for smiling, laughing. Combined, my name is literally 'beautiful smile'. I cringed a little inside when I first understood this, but on hindsight it's got to be better than 'bottom of the mountain'.

I giggle a little at this. I'd probably feel bad if I knew a Yamashita, but I didn't, so there's that.

I stare intently in the mirror, locking peridot eyes with my reflection as I aggressively towel off my hair. I make a few faces in the mirror out due to force of habit, but cease quickly.

I shudder involuntarily. It's been a while since I've done this. Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I feel a temporary, happy disassociation of self, imagining that those intent green eyes belong to someone else, but it never ever lasts. The knowledge that in my reflection I can see me, all of me, all there ever was ...

I resist the sudden, overwhelming urge to break the mirror.

There is a slow, burning soreness in my thighs that I attempt to focus on. There are many things I don't want to think about, and I suppose ... I suppose the future is one of them. Let's think about the future then. Okay, the future. What with exams over and graduation in less than a month's time. Thinking more than one, two steps ahead was never my forte. If a goal wasn't in sight, it might as well not be there at all. I used to say that to Rin all the time, who would sagely nod and follow up with the classic:

'And even if it was, how would you know it exists anyway?'

We would laugh and laugh like it was the funniest thing in the world.

I can feel my body relax, even if only slightly. Happy memories more effective than a hot shower - who would have thought? I decide to push my luck, and break into a silly smile. They say emotions and emotional responses are a two-way street. Me, I could've sworn they weren't related ...

Chapter One:

I exited the bathroom swiftly, heading straight for my room. I still had quite a bit of time before our rendezvous at noon, so it would be prudent to tidy up for a bit - my room was still a mess from the last time Hisao came over. I noted my prosthetic legs dripping slightly from the shower, but otherwise in fully functioning condition. Amazing feat of science, really. Maybe I should get around to finally researching how they worked ...

Smiling a little at the wonders of that which I did not understand yet, I increased my pace significantly - as tribute, of course. These relatively stylish prosthetics may not be my main running blades, but that shouldn't stop me from walking very briskly. I think. I also try not to think of what Nurse would say. In any case, the carpeted floor of the female dormitory has an excellent grip. I probably would have broken into a jog if a dark haired girl wielding a pair of crutches hadn't just rounded the corner, right in my path. As fast as I was going, she still managed to leverage on her crutches to nimbly spin herself out of the way, avoiding what could have resulted in a disastrous collusion. And probably two detentions for the resident detention expert.

'Aaaand that was a three-sixty. You can thank me later. Not this time, Emi! Not ever.'

She called out as she continued limping forward without missing a beat, giving me a lovely view of her retreating back. Haruko probably had a very, very smug smile on her face as she said this. She flicked her ponytail for extra melodramatic effect.

'Just you wait!'

'Can't. I don't do waiting.'

I grinned broadly. Words weren't required to convey my genuine admiration for this girl, but I had shouted after her anyway. Haruko may have been missing her entire left leg, thigh and all, but she was the star of the co-ed football team for a reason - the reason being that she had insane reflexes, stunning agility, and probably the genes of Zinedine Zidane. No one could steal the ball away from her, and no one wanted to the one to initiate a sliding tackle on someone on crutches. Apocryphally, opponents have literally cried from the sheer frustration of watching her slowly dribble through entire lines of defence.

She turned down prosthetics, claiming three legs were better than two. Evidently there were some absolutely disgusting tricks you could only pull off with three legs. Just the mental image made me smile. It was only a matter of time before the Japanese Football Association caught on to her.

Nonetheless, the warmth from the little Charlie-Brown-and-Lucy-esque encounter had largely faded by the time I had finished making my bed. I folded my arms and looked around at the scattered textbooks and printouts strewn haphazardly across the floor in my frantic revision for the exams. A few empty bottles of Pokka milk coffee were half-hidden all over in odd unthinkable places. A gentle stream of light from the window illuminated the title of a tossed aside book on physiotherapy that landed on the floor. I smiled in spite of myself. Sex wasn't entirely to blame for the room's wake-of-a-tornado's state, I suppose.

I sighed and flopped down on the mattress, entirely defeating the purpose of my previous efforts. But that was okay; a messy room gave me things to do. And I didn't mind the disorder all that much. The ceiling remained a static orange-brownish, a comforting colour. Last year, Rin christened it 'Chiffon Orange', and we lay bodies crammed on the bed, staring at it in thoughtful silence as the sun went down, until we had gotten hungry.

Rin. I miss Rin. Her presence was so random it seemed more like omnipresence. She would pop up when you least expected, and most needed it. I would visit her right now if only she was there. I had gone to her room three days ago for our daily clothing ritual, and instead of finding the somnolent auburn haired girl, I found a scrunched up piece of scrap paper placed right in the centre of the unmade bed. Good thing I didn't throw it away, for it read:

'Hey. You.

I'm going on an adventure.

.|.'

Jesus Christ Rin. Is that a lopsided unbalanced division sign, or just a penis that's happy to see me? Her artistic rendition of a smiley perhaps? It's right up there with the other nineteen questions I'll be asking Rin when she comes back, but I know I won't be getting a straight answer for any of them. For someone who can't even be bothered to get up on time, nor dress herself properly in the morning, she sure can muster extraordinary willpower when she feels like it. I ponder where she could have possibly gone for an adventure. The jungle, machete in mouth? Mountaineering, one resolute step at a time? The ocean? That was a good one. I pictured Rin doing the butterfly stroke, her skin slowly changing colour, metamorphosing into a flipper-less dolphin in front of some amazed tourist's eyes, smirking as she hightailed it towards the chiffon orange sunset. Rin would be the stuff of legends someday. I was sure of it. And wasn't I going to be a tyrannical pirate? She would be the dolphin to my pirate. I would spend my life tracking this devious red-haired dolphin, the two of us locked in a fateful tussle. Hisao mentioned a book like this before, I'm sure.

I sighed again. I had read somewhere that sighing, or more literally, the taking of a deep breath did wonders for resetting your breathing pace, effectively resetting your psychological outlook and your emotions. At least, that was the main intended therapeutic effect, quote, unquote. Well, it wasn't working. So much for science.
I stole a glance at my digital alarm clock, worried about what I would see.

'Quarter to eleven ...'

I had always envied Hisao's and Ikezawa's ability to simply sit down with a book and let time sweep them away. Even if it was solitary, it was at the very least engaging, and they didn't have to be alone with their own thoughts. In fact, most of the students at Yamaku had ways of entertaining themselves during a lull - not that there were many in a school year. All I really have is running, and even then I'm fairly limited by the condition of my legs and the need for an actual running track. Not that I've ever let that stop me, but still ...

I don't have very good thoughts when I'm alone. I wouldn't be more specific even if I could. These thoughts are unformed and numerous, like millions of spiders waiting to hatch. They make sounds, loads of sounds, but I put a lid on it. Indistinct muffled cries are all that's left. These thoughts are especially loud given the silence of the room, the cacophony impossible to ignore. The sheer emptiness, the void of the day is like a vacuum, the unequal pressure causing my body to expand. Stretching my skin, pulling my body apart, ripping, exposing ... exposing what, really? All that physics cramming sure has made my mind's metaphors more vivid. As Minoru would say -

- Okay, that's enough absent-minded introspection for one day. I sit up abruptly, my heart pounding faster than it usually does after a two-hundred-metre sprint. Screw the meeting time, I want to see Hisao now. Right this moment. As fast as possible. This is what I tell myself.

Good thing I'm Ibarazaki Emi then.

[LilyKitsune]

Well it is a lovely start! Im bad at commenting seriously, as im not much of a writer myself. I know I enjoyed it, and the writing flowed well. Some of the thoughts in Emi's head are a little more poetic than I imagined her being, but it's nothing bad. Overall, it is a wonderful setup to a story I'll definitely be checking back in on.

[dewelar]

As someone who has also bemoaned the fact that good Emi stories are few and far between (and who attempted to address that himself to a degree), I'm looking forward to seeing where this goes as well.

For me, this doesn't feel very Emi, at least not yet. It almost feels...Emi Sue-ish. It's a bit heavy on Western pop culture notes, and also on SAT words. I cannot, for the life of me, ever hear Emi using words like "illeism", or thinking about things in terms of mathematical symbols. I also agree with LilyKitsune that the overall vibe of her inner monologue is a bit too...refined, maybe? Finally, the title of this story sounds awfully ominous .

That said, the actual mechanics of the writing are quite good. It flows nicely, and it does build things well to make one want to see what's to come. I'll be keeping an eye on this.

[brythain]

Finally, the title of this story sounds awfully ominous .

Or sounds allusive with regard to an infamous incident along Emi's route...

Yes, this isn't quite Emi's voice. It is, however, an unusual voice, something you won't find in any of the characters so far. Hmm. Ideas, ideas...

[LilyKitsune]

Aw neat, I was right about something in writing analysis!

[edward_low]

Chapter Two is finally done after being re-worked.

I do apologise

a lot

[dewelar]

...aaaaaand I'm out.

[Mirage_GSM]

Uh... yes, that devolved quickly ^^°
I was just about to compliment you on the first chapter and then this...
Oh well, one general piece of advice I wanted to give before I read chapter two was to suggest you don't post every chapter as soon as you've finished writing. Build up a buffer of two or three or more chapters because sometimes you'll want to go back and change something so you don't write yourself into a corner.
I guess that advice still applies, but after chapter two you've got bigger things to worry about.

[LilyKitsune]

What did I just read?

[azumeow]

What did I just read?

Porn. I think....I think we all just read porn.

[BaldBombshell]

Porn pulling from Ascent, even.

[azumeow]

Porn pulling from Ascent, even.

Yeah, I noticed that. A nice, but particularly white-knighty fic.

[bhtooefr]

Unoriginal and badly rewritten porn.

I award you no points, and may FSM have mercy on your soul.

[edward_low]

I'm really surprised by the reception. It was meant to be a parody of that utterly ridiculous scene in Ascent, but I suppose that wasn't the right thing to do / I did it wrong ...? Explanations and reasons would be nice - I really am confused.

I intended this to be a serious project, and it still is. If the parody is way too off-putting (that being the only reason), it can do without it. Thanks for the feedback.

I spent the day working out a very satisfying plot, and originally decided I had to modify chapter one and two accordingly, though frankly chapter one more than two because ultimately Emi's perspective is still the one that requires more adjusting. And then I read all this. So, entirely rewrite chapter two, sans parody? Okay.

[brythain]

I'm really surprised by the reception.

*grin* as a relatively junior member of the forum myself, I have to say that before I posted any fanfic, I read my way through the Library (well, more than half of the threads in this section) and the Ask thread under Public Discussion first. I took note of what got panned in the fanfic threads, where people tended to draw the line, etc.

Some things, I realized, wouldn't work. After posting my outline alone, I got lots of stiff but friendly advice. After that, more advice. People here are generally very helpful. I've only been here six months, and if you do your research, it helps them and helps you, and helps them help you.