Hey look, all im going to say is this fanfic has been a huge effort from not only me but a amazing dude called AaronIsCrunchy. I would definatly call him a Co- writer in this project and 50% of the stuff on here was either his idea or his writing.
Weve tried to make it so the characters have diffrent personalities and for each point of view to be so obvious that you can tell who it is straight away. This is both my own and Arons frst time writing anything so Critism is not only expected but wanted, to improve us and hopefully start knocking out some better stuff in the future (as long as its constructive and your not being an asshole)
thanks for taking the time to read this and I hope you stick with it, as more chapters are ready and waiting.Contents
Chapter 1 - Misha (Current)
Chapter 2 - Emi
Chapter 1 - Misha
BEEP BEEP BEEP
The harsh beeping of the alarm clock welcomes me into the new day, As a child, I used to try to remember what it was that I was dreaming about, but most of the time it would have gone before I could recall any of it. No such luck today; the dampness of my pillow reminds me exactly what, or who, was in my dreams.
Shicchan.
Falling back, my head hits the pillow and I close my eyes again, hoping it was all a dream that would never see the light of day....No such luck.
Slowly but surely, the contents of the previous day came flooding back to my memory with such clarity there's no way it could have just been a dream.
Going to Yamaku to learn sign language meant that spending a lot of time around someone in need of an interpreter. When that person is as amazing as Shicchan – cute, clever, and determined – it was only a matter of time before I started getting feelings for them.
I couldn't just be happy with Shicchan as my friend though – if there was a chance that she may have felt the same about me as I did about her, then I had to take it. I wanted to be more to her than just her interpreter and co-worker. And I had the whole of the summer to think about how I was going to do it.
The first day of term arrived after what seemed like an eternity - it wasn't like I hadn't seen Shicchan at all, but we were staying at her house and her dad... I don't think he'd like it. We met in the usual way - she was in the student council office already going through paperwork when I came in. I sidled up to her, not too close to unnerve her, but close enough that I could hold her hand, and smell her scent. With my hands shaking, a mixture of excitement and nervousness, I told her how I felt - how I wanted us to be more than friends, how beautiful I thought she was... And then that look. She hadn't even signed her response and I knew what was happening. She told me she thinks of me very highly as a friend, that she couldn't think of a person she liked more, but we could never be more than that. And then 'sorry', with an expression signifying she knew this was killing me.
I had spent all summer thinking of this moment, of how I could finally be truly happy with her, and in the space of a minute I had been reduced to a feeling I was nothing. Shicchan put her arms around me, but not how I hoped it would be: where I wanted the warm embrace of a new-found love, she was only able to OFFER a hold of consolation, of pity. I couldn't bear to stay any longer, and broke away, running for the dorms with suppressed tears spilling over, running down my cheeks. I feel so stupid, for almost certainly ruining a friendship that I shouldn't have been so selfish to want more of. And now I have to spend today pretending nothing happened, business as usual, knowing the one thing I truly want I can never have.
'I hate myself.'
So now I lie here, staring at my ceiling, hoping that the my bed will swallow me up, saving me from the embarrassment that will inevitably come when I eventually see her. I can imagine it now, to see her usual beautiful, flawless eyes looking down on me with pity. Like I'm some stupid teenager fan girling over her idol. But our relationship isn't that bad. Is it?
Huh. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm no better than those gullible, sweet and innocent girls that devote their life, their passion into something that will inevitably come back and sucker punch them straight in the gut.
I pull my pillow over my face and leave it there as I gently sob into it. But no tears are realised; no, they dried out hours ago. After I've calmed slightly I contemplate getting ready for school, but even if I could gather the energy I'm not sure if I would want to. But then again, I promised myself I would be strong, if not for myself, for Shicchan. I don't want to leave her alone mute for two days straight.
Slowly, as if the thought of a helpless Shicchan sent my body into autopilot, I get out of bed, and begin my morning preparations.
I haven't had a chat with Shicchan now for a week. It's not like we haven't 'spoken'; I've interpreted for her, and ensured that she's not been forgotten about in class, but I haven't felt able to breach the rift that I feel has grown between us. We're now sat in the Student Council office, dealing with a stack of paperwork that I'm sure doesn't have to be done for a couple of weeks – Shicchan arranges the papers into organised piles and I staple them together. Collation she calls it.
The room seems quieter than it ever has done – of course, talking with Shicchan is a silent ACTIVITY anyway, but beforehand, it didn't seem any different to speaking normally. I keep glancing up at her, watching her intense blue eyes concentrating on the otherwise simple task like it was the most important thing in the world. At least, that's how she usually is. But she seems slightly distracted.
She looks up at me, a hand cutting through the air saying that she wants to say something. The look she usually places on whatever work she's set her mind on is now squarely focussed on me. I'm sure it would appear quite intimidating to others, but I know what's coming, and the effect is not intimidating. Instead, it's one of resignation. She's going to tell me how stupid I was to do what I did, and how she feels it's too awkward between us, and we can't be friends anymore.
I can barely watch the hand gestures as they spell out the inevitable...
[Misha, I'm quite worried about you. You seem distracted, and so dejected. It's making me sad to look at you.]
And there's the... wait, what?
I'm pretty sure I must have visibly double-taken, as Shicchan gave me a questioning look, obviously as confused by my reaction as I was surprised at her announcement. She quickly returned to her previous expression though, and continued:
[You've been off your food too, you barely touched your curry bread yesterday and you only ate the bentou I made you out of courtesy.] She looked fairly hurt while she signed that last part, so it only felt right to offer an apology. Shicchan accepted with a slight smile, one which radiated sincerity, certainly not the smile one gives just as a formality, like when greeting a stranger. The feeling of my self-loathing now was twisting in my gut, forming a lump in my throat and a heaviness behind the eyes – why does she still treat me the way she does, even after my selfish faux pas? I'd almost rather she did hate me, a deserved retribution for my actions.
But if she did leave me, I'd lose the most caring friend anyone could want. I don't deserve it, I don't deserve her, but if she left, that might just be it. My life would lose all meaning...
[I'm taking you to see the nurse, I think you might be showing early signs of DEPRESSION. And I can't allow my best friend to feel like that, so we're going now.] The word depression clanged around the room despite it's silence, and even Shicchan seemed to wince in discomfort while signing it. The look in her eyes, almost disciplinarian, and a slight sharpness to her hand movements tell me that I don't have much of a choice in this matter, so we pack away the paperwork and the stapler, and leave for the auxiliary buildings.
“Come in! Door's unlocked, I won't bite!” came the optimistic sounding entry-call from the office. Shicchan rolled her eyes and twisted her mouth slightly once the 'invitation' had been relayed to her, but I think she'd stopped by the time we entered. Either that, or the nurse just didn't notice. Or care.
“Ah, Hakamichi and Mikado, the gruesome twosome! What can I do for you today?” he exclaimed, not even trying to suppress a huge grin across his face. Shicchan shot him a loaded stare at this, and this time he definitely noticed, immediately turning to a much more serious, doctor-like expression.
Shicchan began to tell the nurse everything she had noticed that was unusual in the past few days. When speaking for her, it gets pretty easy to just detach yourself to some extent and say it how she'd like it to be said – sometimes it's difficult, but no-one seems to mind. However, talking about myself for her is strange, almost like my presence there is awkward but I have to be there for reasons of practicality. After a while, the nurse turned to me and, pulling out a well-worn notepad from his jacket pocket, started to ask me some questions. Most of them essentially recapped on what Shicchan had already told him, but I wasn't going to overcomplicate things, and decided to just answer them anyway.
After about 15 minutes of questions the nurse looked down at his notes, and then relaxed his gaze slightly, as if he was about to say something. However, he didn't for a few moments, and instead started to stare at an unimportant section of a wall, gently slapping his jaw with two fingers and ticking in time with his tongue. I turned to Shicchan – not to say anything, just as something to relieve the sensation of waiting, even though it had only been about a minute since we stopped our discussion. There she is, the cause of all my pain yet still my raison d'être, seemingly unfazed by the world around her. Just one of her many endearing qualities I suppose; some see it as aloofness, others as coldness, but I see it as just a contentness with life most would envy. It's just a shame I can't share in it...
The nurse lets out a small cough – I'm unsure if he actually was clearing something or just getting my attention, but it achieved the latter either way. It seems he's ready to give his verdict, as he takes a seat whilst putting his notepad away.
“Mikado, it's too early to determine whether you are actually depressed or whether you are just going through a bad spell. It's for this reason that I am unwilling to let you go on antidepressants until we can be sure that they are what you need – the potential side effects of those are something that would have to be seriously weighed up against.” A small wave of grim relief crosses my head – at least for now, I won't have anything behaviour altering in my body, although could it be argued that my behaviour has already been altered? The heavy grey cloud in my head seems to be making light work of that. I look to my left and see Shicchan with what looks to be an accepting face... Or is it agreement?
“Instead, I recommend that you remove any factors that may work towards lowering your mood. That means ensuring you get enough sleep if possible, eating healthily and at regular times in the day, not watching anything distressing. Try to get some exercise in – it doesn't have to be 10km runs, but you should aim for about 30 minutes of walking a day. It should also go without saying, stay away from alcohol. You shouldn't be drinking it anyway, but it'd only serve to make it worse.” He said this last part with the tiniest of smiles, as if he knew I wouldn't anyway, but I suppose it's covering all possibilities. All except one...
“Does that mean Shi...” I had made sure not to sign this, but the nurse was already stopping me before I could finish. Still holding a hand out, he responded with a firm shake of the head “No. I understand what happened may have triggered this, but she is your friend and severing those that care about you is the absolute worst thing you can do.” I think I may have relayed this to Shicchan without realising, as she looked at me gently nodding.
The nurse OFFERED to allow me and Shicchan the afternoon off to relax and address any issues (I think I know what he meant, but didn't press it further), but the look on Shicchan's face told me she didn't want to miss class today, as we'd already missed most of the morning. I suppose class would keep my mind off things for a bit, so I agree, and we start to make our way to the door, thanking the nurse for his time. He responded with a decidedly more serious smile than the one we were greeted with, and requested that we see him in a week's time to see how I'm doing. With that, we made our goodbyes, and left the office.
Turning to Shicchan, an overwhelming surge of emotions came over me – frustration, gratitude, yet most of all a crushing helplessness flooded into my head, causing waves of tears to start spilling from my eyes. She held her arms out, and I couldn't stop myself from crashing into her, and uncontrollably sobbing into her shoulder,
“What's wrong with me?"
Next > >
