[OC] Puppet Show: The Show's Back On! (Sleepy Chapter 2!)

[RidiculousLuke]

*Author Apology*
H-Hey, how's it going? You doing good? That's great . . . M-Me? Oh, I'm okay. Suicidal mostly, but decent. A gun hasn't come into the equation just yet.
So, what's been happening with Puppet Show? Well, unlike the last time I was on here, it has an ending. The main reason I threw a couple pictures at you guys and shat myself running was because I didn't have an ending. I was writing blind.
This time though, I've got one!
So please enjoy the newest version of Puppet Show, there isn't much writing here unfortunately. The months I've been away, I've literally been perfecting the first chapter only. Which is what I'm going to post first, to test the waters again.
I'm sorry for leaving this thing unfinished, I've been a punk bitch. I just want to write a decent story about something as taboo as OC characters, you guys deserve that.
So I hope this pleases . . . If not, I apologize and rest assured, I will add another scoop to the hole I've been digging for myself.


[Description]
Spontaneity and unusual panic guiding him on a cold day in Tokyo, Kichirou Susumu, a double amputee, returns to Yamaku academy a little earlier than his peers. As he does so, the curtains slowly draw open and the strings pull at the skin of our actors, a grand show will soon lay before us.
Be sure to enjoy the performance. Don't mind the blood.

(Readers tastes be advised, this story contains only OC Characters.)
This story is also 18+, it contains naughty language and possible future debauchery.




Acts/Arcs/Chapters

(1) Where The Cripples Roam:
Part 1*
Part 2*
Part 3*
Part 4*
Part 5*

*Links will be updated when the chapter itself is posted

[RidiculousLuke]

[This post is reserved for Character Bio's and possible artwork]

[RidiculousLuke]

It's been a while . . . Granted, I might be on the wrong platform. Spontaneity's to blame here, not even sure if I packed everything. Not that there was much, I only have one bag. With a shrug, I return my attention to the store-bought roll in my hand. Chew after chew, I observe the people around me. While Tokyo's always busy, everything does feel more lax right now. Which makes sense since the trains here are all outgoing. The rails splay out across Japan, my destination resides slightly north of here.

My school, Yamaku Academy, is known for two things: A very nice and convincing pamphlet and for being a school that caters to teaching the disabled.

Disabled, crippled, handicapable, whatever the term you use, I happen to be one of them. An accident a couple years ago rendered me with an amputated left hand, a below-knee amputation of my right leg, no parents and a whole lot of scars.

Scars that make me look quite the sight. So much so that I sometimes have this habit of wearing something hooded as much as possible when I'm out. Like right now for instance, 'Better to look suspicious than a freak show.' I always say. I can try and hide, but I can't hide my reflection . . . Always staring back at me, as if to prove something.

Peeling back the last of the plastic wrap, I finish off my roll. I toss the waste into the bin next to me and pull out my wallet. My expression lowers and I sigh, stretching the fabric of my wallet out as if to further showcase it's emptiness. I should've gotten more... Three days worth, what was I thinking?

Thirty minutes pass before the train arrives. Thankfully, I was right on the money. At least, in the train department. As people start boarding, I rise from where I was sitting. Pulling my hood down out of habit and making sure my prosthetic is still attached, and functional. Boarding with duffel bag in hand, I wander cabin after cabin before finding an empty booth.

I sit down just as the doors close and the automated announcer speaks. It only takes a matter of minutes for my attention to be drawn to the selection on my music player for the scenery to change, from bustling skyscrapers to quiet rolling hills of green.

Choosing the right song's going to be the hardest part of this stretch...





Three hours later, I'm wandering the streets of another city. Totally different from Tokyo, but somehow interchangeable.

Shit, where was the stop for the bus that passes Yamaku again? It hasn't even been a year and I've already forgotten... Though I didn't choose to remember in the first place. Stay away from the city for a while. Yeah I sure did do that, didn't I?

Crap.

Well- Wait, I do know a city slicker familiar with this place. Almost too familiar . . . Though I haven't heard from him since break. Not even sure if he'll answer his phone.

Hand in my pocket I look up, past the overhanging walkway and to the building looking to the street. The sight of the afternoon sun and the digital time display on the building make me grumble.
Flipping my phone open, I find the city slicker in question, and hesitate slightly before crashing my thumb onto the call button before I think otherwise.

The tone rings on as I lean against a nearby wall... Worse case scenario, I wander the streets until I find it. But why do I have this feeling that I'll miss the buses anyway and be forced to stay here? Wait, so I do know! Wait, no. I don't, do I? Shit, this is getting confusing! I knew I should've stayed-

"Hello?"

My mind stops. A strand of sweat rolls down my concealed forehead, for some reason I check the corners around me before opening my mouth.

However, before I can even mutter a sound, the city slicker takes off.

"Hello? Hello- What is it now, Sis? I'm on the phone! What, you think you left your- Holy fuck, are you kidding me?! Hey, don't tell me about language when you're the one who decided to leave your underwear in my room! Fine, just get in here already . . . Are you even sure you did? Forgive me if I'm a little sceptical of you launching your undergarments into my room while in the throes of passion with your girlfriend! . . . What now? Look, just hurry up! You're getting your lesbian all over my manga! Not here? What a surprise! W-Why are you looking at me like that? What, you gonna cry- Ow! Fuck! You kicked me, you- I-I'm going to tell Mom about this and your fuck buddy won't save you! Yes she is so, they always are!"

I look up at the building again, trying to figure out how much time has passed . . . Looking to my feet again, my previous nervousness is gone.

"Sounds like your break's been eventful." I pull away from the phone and snicker quickly.

"What the- Oh! Kichirou, it's you. Sorry, in the heat of- whatever that was, I didn't check the caller ID."

"Hardly a problem, so what was that about underwear?" I lean away from the wall, keeping my head low as people pass.

"F-Fucking get off it! My sister's been a nightmare since Christmas..."

"Guess so... Listen Takashi, I'm a bus trip away from Yamaku-"

"What? Why are you there? Isn't it kinda early? I need a calendar in this room." Takashi sighs.

"You have your phone." I rub my neck, "I can't remember where the stop to Yamaku is, I was hoping you knew."

"Like the back of my hand! But why are you there man? I just checked, you're early-"

"I know. Just- I had to leave early."

"From your Uncle? Weren't you excited about staying with him?"

I scratch my chest with my stub anxiously, "Yes, of course. But I wanted to start the year off early, you know?"

Takashi chuckles, "Hoping it'll show on your grade score?"

"A guy can hope, right?"

"Good to see your taking your New Year's resolution seriously. Though, I don't think there's an award for arriving before the staff come back from their benders."

I sigh, "Maybe not. Anyway, where am I going?"

After giving me the details, which were needlessly expansive, I leave where I was standing, join the crowds and begin walking. As I do so, I chat with Takashi a little more.

The short version of Takashi's situation, swears and unnecessary details aside, is that when he arrived home he stumbled on the sight of his parents in the entrance hall as usual. Only this time, they weren't facing him, they were looking into the house. Into the living room apparently, where Takashi's sister, who had supposedly arrived moments earlier, sat with her new girlfriend.

That's the short version, because I didn't ask further. That shouting match earlier gave away enough hints.

A corner later, I spot the bus stop Takashi mentioned. With a sigh of relief, I join the others waiting, phone still to my ear.

"When are you coming back?" I ask while peering down the street.

Takashi hums, "A few days, maybe. Truth is, If I had the money I would be gone already. I might just wait until Mom and Dad ship us kids off again."

"Your sister doesn't go to a school near home?"

"Nope, we actually take the same train. Except she goes south. Which makes sense you know, I'm sure that's the only direction she goes when she's at that school of hers."

I stifle a laugh, "Takashi, from the things you read I would've thought you were more forgiving of that kind of thing."

The city slicker coughs, "D-Dude, I have nothing against it. You like what you like. It's just that she's freaking the family out. Mom and Dad are a little, well, you know..."

I nod, "Yeah."

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the bus. With a smoke-laden lurch, it stops right by the corner.

"Well, here's the bus now." I smile, "I'll see you soon then? Maybe?"

Takashi chuckles, "Yeah man, eventually. Try not to run rampant at Yamaku while I'm gone."

Before the call ends, Takashi lets out another chuckle, "It's where the cripples roam, after all."

Putting my phone back in my pocket, I briefly look to my concealed prosthetic and left arm.

"Where we roam, huh." One last look to the sky and roll of my shoulder, I board the bus.

I pull out my wallet and pay with the little change I have, the driver gives me a nod and motions to the back. I bow slightly and look for a seat. The more steps I take, the more concious I become of my prosthetic.

Carefully making sure not to blind side someone with my bag, I sit with and next to an old man, four rows back. He's asleep, thankfully. For his sake, and mine. The doors shut and the bus heaves off. The hull shakes, but this does not wake the man. With the nap I had on the train, I simply lean back and watch the scenery pass by.

My brain's whirling right now anyway... Speaking to Takashi was a ride I hadn't expected. I've haven't known him long and while I did know his family was an obscure topic, from the pieces that would slip into his sentences, I didn't think they were quite like that.

I'm envious, honestly.

The city having now become a mere concrete blip in the distance, the bus approaches the forest. I think about an hour will pass before we get to Yamaku. I absorb this fact while clutching my scalp, trying to
shake the events of this morning away.





Light ripples into the bus. The canopy overhead has pulled back and hints of civilization teeter on the horizon.

This town's an old one, a small scale model of Japan's tradition. While not fading, the farewell trails of progress mark the roads here. Only the school overlooking this place gives a person any semblance of a future. Which is true, only a few places in Japan showcase a service like Yamaku. Unlike those others, Yamaku's backdrop is like a blanket.

Wonderful comfort for what is unfortunately for some, a brittle glass bed.

The bus weaves round each street corner, a series of tight roads persist until we begin climbing the hill up. I check the time on my wrist watch as the bus strains. Just about an hour . . . Despite being a bastard to find, it was true to it's schedule.

As the road becomes more flat, my eyes dart from either side-walk. Wondering if I might see that familiar green and white.

I rub my neck. I'm early, remember?

The wrought iron gates of Yamaku pop into view and in a few moments, the bus lurches to a halt. Making sure not to wake the old man, who is still sleeping, I rise out of my seat and walk to the front of the bus. On my way out, I can tell their eyes are on me. Surely no one stops here unless something's wrong with them . . . and they're right.

I thank the driver and disembark. The chill makes me shiver, the inside of the bus had lulled me with its warmth. The bus soon leaves, it's journey yet to be finished. I shoot it a glance, only for the sake of taking in the surroundings.

Now here are two things the pamphlet didn't fabricate, the feeling of nature and tradition. All viewed from atop this hill. I absent-mindedly run my hand through the scars on my forehead, flinching slightly at the wiry tuft growing from my scalp . . . I'm going to need a haircut soon.

My body now showing signs of exhaustion from the trip, I enter Yamaku.

Heaving the gate closed behind me, I begin walking the white concrete trail. My favourite part of the school is the grounds. Care has clearly been taken to the green here, and If the weather is nice you often see students out here.

Studying, eating, fooling around or just laying around.

I make a left, turning away from the main building. Won't be going there for a while, hopefully. Unless Takashi's forces me to.

A short walk later, the Yamaku dormitories come into view. Two buildings, each one three stories high with a single tree between them. Choosing the ramp up instead of the stairs, I glance to the mural along the wall below briefly.

Not a single signature. Only visible age and the mind of an artist.

I pull back the hood of my jacket, squinting slightly as I approach the door to the male dorm. My hand feels out the handle as I look to the single tree, sighing to myself.

Care taken to the green . . . Without further hesitation, I enter the dorm. What I find is understandably empty, the usually roaring common room is dead quiet.

Passing the bulletin board, I take a moment to inspect it. Nothing new's been put up, although the poster for the Student Council looks bigger than before. Still looks like a new world recruitment poster.

Turning the corner, I come to a stop in the middle of the hall. While not entirely disabled due to my prosthetic, I have the honour of owning a room on the ground floor. Saves one a trip down the stairs, elevator too.

I drop my duffel bag down beside the door marked 010 and kneel down to look for my keys.

Standing again and with a sigh, I unlock the door. With a light push, my room comes into view.

I pick up my bag and step inside . . . Maybe leaving the curtains closed was a bad idea, Kichirou. Tossing my bag on the bed, I pull back the curtains. Sunlight, while dimmed, bounces around every surface. Showcasing the dust and grime. Running a finger along the windowsill, I inspect it while twisting my lips.

I then move to my desk and pull open the drawer, empty. I'm going shopping . . . Tomorrow, though, maybe. Right now, I should unpack my things.

Zipping open my duffel bag, item after item returns to its place in the room.

Alarm clock on the night table, music player, wallet and other personal effects in the draw of the cabinet. Laptop on the desk, along with stationery. And finally, my limited wardrobe, back in the closet.

Kicking my duffel bag under the desk, I take a seat on the bed. Even though my possessions have colour to them, this room's still bare. Haven't had a chance to decorate yet, probably won't . . . Better if I don't.

I unzip my jacket and toss it aside, rubbing my bare arms for a time before moving to remove my prosthetic.

A once difficult process made easy by experience. The leg soon slips off my stub and on to the floor, I sigh a little as I begin removing the rod that binds this whole thing together. When that's off, only the sleeve remains. The material makes an effort to stay stuck to my skin, but I manage to pull it off after a few tugs.

I roll my pant leg back down, flap it about for a quick smirk before pulling my pants off completely. I rub my neck as I stare down at my stub, now hanging exposed over the side of the bed.

I grasp it and press my thumb against the knee, a slight tingle, an indication that it still works. Would suck if it didn't. Lucky that it does, they said. Lucky I can still see out of my left eye, they said . . . What time is it? Dinner's still way off, may as well have a nap again.

I give my pillow a good puffing before lying down, pausing halfway to grab my phone. I forgot it was in the pocket of my pants.

I hold the device above my face as I relax. It's an older model, the smartphone boom zoomed right passed me. Which is what happens when you're confined.

I've got a voice message . . . Putting the phone to my ear I stare up at the ceiling, the message plays as my body settles into the sheets of my bed.

As I listen and with my expression grave, I let out a whisper that merely joins the dust of my room.

"Welcome back, Kichirou."

[RidiculousLuke]

*Authors Note*
Right, tested seemly fine, time to get the train rolling. The writing here probably feels a little fast . . . Forgive me, tomorrow morning will probably lead to edits . . . I need to sleep. Enjoy! Hopefully >.>











The town. Unlike a city, which may still be dormant at this hour, folks here are wide awake. From store owners opening their stores, to the lone van wandering out of sight on a delivery . . . The town's alive.

Not a hint of tiredness anywhere . . . Well, except in me.

I come to a stop on a street corner, holding myself up by a nearby lamp post. I haven't been on a jog since last year, I shouldn't've stopped. Arms behind my head, I cross the road with a brisk walk.

After circling a few blocks, interchanging my pace every few minutes, I come to a stop outside one of the few stores I know.

The owner's awake. Mrs. Moto, a bear of a woman, stands outside her store.

Her heavy arms setting up her vegetables and fruits for the day. She settles down a sizeable basket before turning around to grab another, only to soon spot me.

"If it isn't Kichirou!" She grins, "I thought you were still on holiday."

I bow, "I-I uh . . . came back early."

"Huh. Oh, hey, here." Mrs. Moto grabs an apple from a basket and throws it my way.

Just as the fruit leaves her hand, her eyes widen. "Kichirou! I'm sorry-"

I catch the apple, to my surprise.

Mrs. Moto wipes her forhead and chuckles with rosy cheeks. "Shoot, I forgot you only had one hand, but it seems your reflexes are sharp!"

I hold the apple up to the sky and smile in embarrassment. "I got lucky there."

"Well, enjoy that! and do come back!" Mrs. Moto grabs an empty basket and makes for her store's interior, hand held high in a salute.

I raise my stub in an effort to salute back. I manage to touch my hairline just as she disappears.

My jog, can wait . . . Apple in hand, I walk around, looking for a spot to sit. A free apple should be enjoyed, not eaten mid-run.

Another block or two later, I sit down on the pavement overlooking the nearby park. I bite into the apple, a smile filling my face. Sweet as usual.

Once the apple is nothing but a seeded core, I stand and toss it away. Licking at my fingers messily . . . Always a downside, I hate this feeling.

After pulling out my music player, the jog continues . . . The next half hour is spent with me running the roads of the town. A variety of tunes pushing me foward.

Dammit, I really shouldn't've stopped . . . At least I'm not sweating too heavily.

My jog ends on a sour note, I ruffle my hair in frustration . . . Really shouldn't've. After catching my breath, I walk to the side of town closest to the hill. Once there, I pull out my wallet. I've got a few things to pick up today, and I doubt being from Yamaku gives one permission to shoplift.

I approach the ATM and slip my card into the slot.

Day by day, my balance shrinks. In a couple of months, I might have to rely on the cafeteria for food . . . That thought in mind, I almost rip the money from the machine.

Wallet back in my pocket, I walk down the main road for a few minutes until the local Aura-mart appears. A chain in a town like this, progress sure left a present.

I enter the store, the ventilated room is a welcome feeling. Just hope I don't smell too bad. To my left, the teller sits with her head in her hands. I still don't know her name, but she knows mine, somehow.

Her face lights up through her glamorous nails. "Kichirou?"

I bow my head with a blush, why didn't I remember her name?

The girl, who I've only now, decided to nickname 'Kogal', due to her tan and fashion sense, sits up straight with a loose smile on her face. "You're early today . . . Hey, weren't you on holiday or something?"

I rub my neck, "I w-was, aren't you early too?" I chuckle nervously as I browse the magazines.

Kogal laughs, a tinge of despair to it. "Yeah, I am . . . I didn't even want to work today. Makoto usually gets the morning shift," A groan, "the early morning shift."

I give her a nod as I pick up a newspaper from the stand before returning to the front to grab a basket. I wander the aisles, grabbing anything that I know I can use.

Kogal wipes her fringe back as I arrive at the counter with a decently-filled basket. I pull out my wallet as the items are rung up.

"You know," Kogal puckers her lips. "girls do like guys who can cook."

I sigh with a blush, handing her the money. "Not on a student budget."

"It's the thought that counts." She giggles.

Sure, but I'm hardly romantic . . . or creative.

Once my items are bagged and ready, Kogal smiles briefly before collasping in a heap of blonde dye and nail polish.

"I'm not even supposed to be here today." Kogal mutters glumly.

I rub my neck, "Hang in there, see you later, maybe?"






Back in my room, I bite into a one-hand made sandwich while occasionally flipping through the newspaper I bought. The little I purchased now resides in the dormitorie's fridge. It's free game now unfortunately, though hopefully it'll be left alone . . . It's the thought that counts.

My eyes wander from the rather lavish headlines to the textbooks in front of me. I take an interest in a loose sheet of paper sticking out from one of them. Where did that come from?

After finishing my sandwich, I reach out with my stub and pull the book towards me as I dust the crumbs from my face.

I flip through the pages, most of which are notes. I forgot how many of these I take . . . Not that they help. I'm like a printer, not the guy who works on said printer.

I reach the loose sheet and look it over. It just so happens to be my exam results for the test before the winter holiday. I had forgotten where this was . . . On purpose, probably. My expression lowers as I look at the scores, but only for a moment as I crumple it up and toss it into the bin under my desk.

I return to the newspaper with a sigh.

Articles now throughly read, possibly multiple times, I move away from my desk and lay down on my bed. I stare up at the ceiling for a few minutes, unsure of what to do for the rest of the day.

Maybe I should of stayed in Tokyo . . . I could barely afford it though. I lay on my side. This room is free, mostly.

I groan, I wish I would stop thinking about that-

My phone starts vibrating on the night table. Surprised, I sit up and reach for it.

A message? Oh, It's Takashi . . . Wonder what's going on now . . . Probably about his sister and her lover- Huh?

Confused, I pocket my phone and begin assembling my prosthetic. Looks like I have something to do today . . . Sure beats the orginal plan. Staring up at the ceiling.

I throw on my hoodie and grab my wallet, giving the room one last look before stepping out. After locking the door, I pull up my hood and adjust my prosthetic with a smile before heading out.

Awfully early . . . Takashi.






I walk the streets with my gaze turned upwards. Dark clouds hang thick above, sending a shiver through me.

Just a couple of hours ago it was slightly warmer, but it looks like tonight's going to be a freezer . . . Could be a premonition now that I think about it.

I arrive at the spot , a local tea house named the Shanghai. I've never been inside, but I have seen a few students in here before. Is it a popular spot or is it just convenient? It does look like it has a nice atmosphere about it though, a mark up indeed when it looks like this out here.

Hoping to find some warmth inside, I unzip my jacket as soon as I open the door. A simple chime ringing out as I do so.

I take a look around. Mostly wood . . . A lot of wood here, traditional. Lovely smells coming from the kitchen, a few patrons seated among tables that look like they fit much larger crowds. I step forward and stop at the sign near my feet.

Wait to be seated . . . Quite classy, really doesn't suit Takashi.

As if to chide me for that inner comment, a young man adorned in a well-used apron appears before me with a bow. "Welcome, just the one?"

"Uh, I'm actually meeting s-someone here." I blurt out, thrown by the politeness. "I think he's here already-"

I scan the room . . . There. Four or five tables back, settled into a booth with one hand trying to grip all his luggage and another clenched around a cold glass of what looks like a milkshake. Takashi Yamaguchi, currently operating at his usual pace.

"There he is."

The waiter smiles and grabs a menu, "Right this way."

By the waiters lead, we pass by several muted conversations and tea-induced smiles before reaching the booth. Takashi hasn't noticed our arrival, his eyes are on his phone so It's a little hard to read his expression.

He's such a token dye job . . . Man, Kogal's hair looks more authentic than his.

Noticing the shadows on the table top, Takashi looks up at us. Seeing me, Takashi smirks and lowers his phone.

"Took you long enough." He chuckles as I slide into the booth.

The waiter hands me the menu, I order a bottle of water and the waiter bows before walking off.

"So," I start, "You're traveling a little heavy there, Taka."

"Necessary supplies, bro." Takashi declares with a hearty pat to one of his bags.

"Let me guess, mostly manga and a condom or two?"

Pride fills his face. "That's right, I have here a sizeable upgrade to my collection and- Wait, how did you know I had-"

"Whoa wait, I guessed right on the condoms? Jesus."

Takashi laughs mockingly, "Yeah yeah, fucking clairvoyant over here."

"I'm not even going to pry further . . . How are you?" I ask with a smirk, taking off my hoodie and placing it next to me.

Takashi frowns as he sips from his milkshake, each draw from his drink seems to calm him. "Tired . . . But thankful to be back!"

"You know, it's been barely a day since I called you." I chuckle, "Did you decide to follow my lead?"

"No! W-Well, maybe." Takashi rubs his ear, "I needed to get out of there man, if I had stayed any longer, I would've probably had to witness my mother going ballistic about how my sister's lover tried to make her gay."

I laugh into the menu as Takashi's mood sours again.

"It's true, she would!" He shouts.

"I'm not doubting it."

Time passes and Takashi and I chat back and forth. When my drink arrives, I move to open the bottle, but the waiter quickly grabs it and opens it for me.

"S-Sorry, sir."

"N-No, it's all right, really-"

I sigh internally, Great.

Takashi grabs his menu and speak up. "Right. We're ready to order!"

No input needed from me since Taka, just ordered for both of us . . . I hope he's buying.

Sipping from my water, I look outside. The light in here is masking it somewhat, but I can tell, it is getting dark out there,

"Hey man, you feeling okay?" Takashi waves his straw at me, milkshake long since finished.

I'm almost poked in the eye. "Y-Yeah, fine. Why do you ask?"

"Looks like it's going to be cold tonight, right?" I comment.

"Really?" Takashi looks to the window raises his eyebrows, "Oh yeah it is. You know, this is why I wear double layers."

I listen to the importance of thicker clothing for a few minutes until Takashi pokes his straw at me again.

"Nervous?"

"H-Huh?" I stutter.

"About school, man." Takashi grins.

"O-Oh, I guess."

"Yeah, me too . . . I think my grades fell, I blame being back with my parents." Takashi pokes at the bottom of his empty glass, "Stressful."

I chuckle, "Yeah, shows on your face in wrinkles."

Takashi's hands stick to his face, "For real?"

"Only a little man." I reassure him with a wink.

Takashi scoffs and leans back in his chair. "Nice one."

Time passes some more, this time in silence. Soon though, Takashi finds another topic, one that resides in one of his bags.

Luckily, our food arrives at this moment . . . Though I think Taka could still explain the depths of ecchi while stuffing his face . . . The food's nice, I'm glad I came.

If only for that.






"Can I just say, once again, I'm glad you split it with me." I grin through cold lips.

"Dude, you would shut up about that?! You've said it like thirty times now!"

"Four times."

Sure enough, as soon as we left the Shanghai, the cold and the opportunity to tease Takashi about his spending habits, hit us. We're now climbing the hill up to Yamaku. Taka's leading, two bags in each hand and a satchel hanging from his neck.

I'm glad he gave me this other bag but-

"Hey, you sure you're okay to carry all that?"

"Yeah, man don't worry about it." I forgot how jarring it was to watch Taka walk . . . He says it's only mild, but that won't stop me from worrying about the way his walking style shifts awkwardly every so often.

"Doesn't it freak you out sometimes?" I ask.

A slight wobble, Taka looks back. "Not anymore, really . . . You start to ignore it."

Comforting.

Takashi laughs, "Does it freak you out that you only have one leg and a missing hand?"

I chuckle, "Fair point."

One last corner and our school sits before us. The weather and the nightime lighting makes the gates look sort of eerie.

"Man, is it good to be back!" Takashi exclaims, dropping one of his bags to touch the gate. "You know . . . It's the little things that count."

"Yeah yeah, let's just get back to our rooms." I open the gates for both of us, taking the lead on the concrete path inside.

Takashi takes a moment further to admire the iron work before catching up. We traverse the grounds. Taka nudges me with his elbow, "Hey, you're not the only person here, right?"

I'm tempted to say yes, to frighten him. But I end up shrugging. "Obviously not. It has been oddly quiet, but that doesn't mean they're not here. Some people stay here for the holidays, remember?"

"For Christmas and New Years? Little weird, don't you think?"

I nod, "Maybe a bit."

We arrive at the dorms. Taka taps his foot on the tree as I make for the door. I open it but once again, Takashi's admiring something.

I sigh, "Dude, really?"

The girl dormitory in his sights for only a moment before he turns to me. "You think-"

"Yes, I do think they're in there and no, they don't want to see you. Can we get inside now? It's freezing-"

"Not that dude! You think the thing about that guy is true . . .That wheelchair puller."

I can't help but laugh. "This again?"

"I gave it some thought while I was back home and . . . Dude, there might be some truth to it."

We enter our dorm. "In what way?"

"Well, I'm just saying, right now, this time of the year, no school, some people stay over . . . things could happen."

"This isn't a harem, Taka."

"Hey! It could be for that guy, whoever he is!" Takashi shouts, his voice echoeing through the halls, "Cripples like to get randy too!"

I groan, "Enough already."

We reach our respective rooms, Takashi's also on this floor. He's in room 012 . . . Awfully convinient, right?

As I unlock my door, Taka steps back in alarm. "Holy shit! What died in here?!"

Not buying his fake shock for one second, I snicker. "Your dignity?"

"Oh yeah? Very funny." Takashi moans. "Anyway, you doing anything tomorrow?"

"Not really."

"Great, then we're hanging! Settled?"

I toss my hoodie into my room while still in the doorway, "Yeah, sure. Good night, then?"

"Yeah man, good night."

Before closing my door, I call out. "Hey, Taka?"

I hear the sound of bags being dropped, "Yeah dude?"

"It's . . . It's good to see you, man."

A pause. "Yeah, you too."

The doors are shut. It only takes a couple of steps on the carpet for my body to begin groaning . . . I need to sleep.

I change out of my clothes, close my curtains and immediately fall into bed. I nearly forget to take off my prosthetic.

As the ceiling starts to lull me into sleep, I close my eyes and smile. Things are going to get weird again . . . But I'm glad. I missed it.

Sure beats- Ah, forget it . . . I shouldn't think about that. Sleep, Kichirou.

[swampie2]

I never the first try at this so I'm looking at it with fresh eyes, don't know anything about the characters beside what's here.

dormitorie's

Dormitory's fridge?

I reach out with my stub and pull the book towards me...

... how?

Maybe I should of stayed in Tokyo

Maybe I should have stayed in Tokyo.

...and begin assembling my prosthetic

Most prosthetics are one piece, and those that aren't don't come apart as far as I know*. Unless you meant this by getting ready to put it in?

* I'm not a prosthetics expert

The waiter smiles and grabs a menu

I think the VN made a point to say that Shanghai are pretty lousy about having menus to hand*. I know Shizune and Misha hide them, but I think there was a point where Hisao asked for one and Yuuko states that she'll 'Look for one.' Then again, if this is set in the future when Yuuko has been fired, then that's not a problem.

*It's been like a year since I read the actual VN, I could be thinking of a fic.

I move to open the bottle, but the waiter quickly grabs it and opens it for me.

I'm not sure how long ago this guy lost his had, but I'm sure he'd figure out he can open plastic bottles with his mouth if he's been missing it for a while.

The girl dormitory in his sights

The girl's dormitory.

Cripples like to get randy too!

Golden.

Corrections aside, I enjoyed this chapter. Looking forward to more!

[Mirage_GSM]

Caugth a few in addition to those swampie already got:

I move away from my desk and lay down on my bed.
...
I lay on my side.

Should both be present tense like the rest of the story.

. . .

An ellipsis doesn't have blanks in between - or before for that matter.

Dark clouds hang thick above

Should be "thickly"

I order a bottle of water and the waiter bows before walking off.

Most Japanese restaurants have a pitcher of water standing on each table, courtesy of the house. I've seen this even in fast food joints.

Missed commenting on chapter one, but it's good to see you back.