Please Don't Pass Me By (Lilly x OC)(Remake)

[FrauPerchta]

Hello everyone! FrauPerchta here, though you may know me better as Innsanna or Chloe. This is my pride and joy, a fic I've been working on for about two years now. Progress has been... painfully slow, but I've got a lot planned and am looking forward to really exploring my interpretation of the KS cast and a character of my own creation, Tanaka Mayu.

I'm going to be posting the work as individual scenes thanks to the reccomendations of Razor, which I appreciate greatly. Full "chapters" will be uploaded to AO3 at a slower rate.

Do be warned, this fic will discuss mental health topics in deapth. It's an exploration of some of the challenges of my own life as well as my perspective on high school, romance, and family issues, on top of a disability. Also note that two of the characters will speak rather formally when compared to the normal tone of KS and most fics here, and I have made some adjustments to put the characters more in line with how I interpret them.

Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoy. I appreciate any and all comments.

Scene Links

Chapter 1
1:1
1:2
1:3
1:4

Chapter 2
2:1

[FrauPerchta]

My fingers linger on the delicate silk of the last of my Kimono for a few moments, and I wonder when I will have occasion to take it out again. I look at the neat stack of tatoshi in my bag- each one tells a different story and is perfect for a specific occasion- and uncertainty sets it about if I will use them again anytime soon.

Among the simplest of my formal wear, this Iromuji holds many memories nonetheless of both my mother's use and of mine, of years and years of striving for perfection, elegance, and happiness. Its blue-grey color reminds me of a fog-ridden sky, both cool and comforting. It lacks the complex beauty of a Furisode, much like a fog obscures one’s garden, but it nonetheless has its charm- a simplicity that is reassuring, and something I need desperately.

Of course, I wouldn’t dare wear my Kimono for the hours-long drive ahead of us, as they mean too much to me to be used so carelessly. Still, as little as I truly know of the school that lies ahead of me, what I have heard makes me doubt that there will be much occasion or room to wear formal clothing, and traditional clothing in general. The purported laxness of school culture, barring rules about behavior that could endanger other students, is sensible; the school does need to cater to a more limited demographic than where I’ve been prior, and as such the rules and culture need to reflect that. However, I still worry that I will be uncomfortable there.

"Mayu, sweetheart, are you ready to go? Can I help with anything?”

I look out the window, at the night sky, and imagine a plane soaring through it. It isn’t hard to do so; it will be true soon. I wonder if she feels as I do, like this inevitable and calamitous change is approaching and we are all too calm for it.

“I am, Mother. And no, I have everything prepared. Could you walk me to the car? I’ve packed my cane already.”

Of course, I probably don’t need her help at the moment, as even a bit of sleep is usually enough and I took care to not exert myself yesterday. Still, an excuse to walk as we had done for many months before is something I will take when given.

Despite the season, the night air is a cold reminder of just how early we are leaving. I almost want to ask how my mother is so awake, but her ever present vigor, alongside her attempted adjustment to another timezone, seems like an explanation enough, though sometimes I wonder. As I lean against her, I look up at her face, studying it and committing every detail to memory.

The lines in her face, her tired looking eyes, the minimalist makeup and complex chignon paint a picture that expresses her almost perfectly. She’s authoritative, a strong looking woman who seems like the type to do well in business, though she hasn't the acumen, constitution, nor interest for it. I know all this; I know everything there is to know about my mother. But I am so afraid of forgetting.

My mother switches on the car’s radio as I pull my blanket over me, trying to fight the cold while the car struggles to warm up. Even as hot air blasts from the vents and fills the car, I’m shivering from the cold and the early start. The sounds of a variety of music styles spill out as my mother switches between stations: pop, some old american music, and a classical composition I can’t place. My mother seems unsatisfied and puts in a CD I recognize as one of many collections of Enka. I’m unable to place any details as my eyelids flutter in front of my face, straining for sleep.

"Get some sleep, Mayu. We'll be there soon."

It doesn't take long for darkness to take me again, my early-morning wake up an unimportant interlude to the demands of sleep.

[BristerXD]

Alright, I said I'd do this a while ago and I'm a man of half of my words. But yeah, it feels great to be doing these things again of the forum, certainly more space to type than ao3. Now for this one, as Lap said on the discord, it's hard to really get a sense of the plotting of this story so I opted to instead quote certain lines while I read through that stood out for one reason or another to me. This way you get my base reaction and any feedback I give will be centered on the writing feel instead of what could be for this story.

My fingers linger on the delicate silk of the last of my Kimono for a few moments, and I wonder when I will have occasion to take it out again.

Just in the first few paragraphs, I get a real sense of the main character's mind and how she views the world. The long, almost ornate sentences that read almost stilted but really speak to her unsureness is really striking. For an OC story told from a first-person point of view, immediately establishing this connection, this understanding, is crucial for getting the reader to buy into your creation. (Trust me, I have some experience in this field) But even with all this said... this opening line is a bit of a leap. I know you want to establish that Mayu uses really god damn long sentences but usually it's better to ease the reader into these things. It certainly threw me for a loop although maybe that's just what it takes to adjust to this writing style. It could very well just be a style thing, I did adjust obviously, but I figured I'd point it out anyway.

I know everything there is to know about my mother. But I am so afraid of forgetting.

This line hit for me. I really like it a lot. I can more in-depth on the exact emotions it conveys to me and the great character building it does but... fuck it man, I just like it a lot.

It doesn't take long for darkness to take me again, my early-morning wake up an unimportant interlude to the demands of sleep.

The grounds of Yamaku are, at a glance, massive, too large for me to traverse in a mere day.

This transition is... jarring to say the least. Now I'm sure you meant for it to be that way a little bit and I can appreciate the effect but I don't think it's properly built off in the rest of the paragraph. You going this snaking rundown of what Yamaku looks like but, even with all our familiarity with the location, feels out of nowhere and disjointed. When you look at the very VN this is based on as an example of how to do this better, just look how we are dropped into Hisao taking a bus with Emi into the city for the first time. It starts off with Hisao stating he doesn't like buses then going on to explain why, using it as a chance to describe the current surroundings in detail. It starts off from a very small point, a point that is personal to the character we are inhabiting. It is the flagpole that we slowly get away from as we take in more of what is around. It's being exposed to a pinhole of light only to have it slowly expand to encompass a full window. That slow drawing of the curtains lets our eyes adjust to the new information. Having a bag ripped off your head to find out the mob captured you and now you're about to dig your own grave in the middle of death valley is a bit more disorientating. Outside of that big suggestion, I would recommend using *** between those paragraph breaks to signify to the reader a scene jump is taking place. We don't have the luxury of a star wars screen wipe with the written word.

"Oh wow, you're super formal and stuff! Most people just call Shicchan Shizune. And me Misha! Though I already said that- woops! Anyways. Uh, just have a seat anywhere you like, since it's the first day!"

Well... you certainly nailed Misha XD. I like you writing her already. Really this lends itself to the rest of the class's characterization and the scene in general. I really like the way you build it, it feels much more fluid and organic than where you described the school. The way Mayu describes the library is rich and characterful, it was actually fun to see the world through her eyes. Not only that, but that hook for the second chapter in waiting for the rest of the conversation... chef kiss. This all may be more than the scope of the quite and that because-

This is the end of my reading and boy let me tell you... I am looking forward to more. I really do love your writing style and Mayu as a potential foil to all our favorite characters. I am really excited to see her interact with everyone and generally, I found this story really fun to read. That school description bit in the middle I described did feel like a bit of a slog but that can be fixed in the future with careful thinking. But overall man, I really like what you've done here and I can't wait to see more. I gotta get my friend Chatty to read this as well.

[FrauPerchta]

My room was plain- honestly more depressing when compared to what I’m used to, the only evidence of my moving in being the clothes carefully placed in the dresser and the bottles of pills that decorate the desk. But, that’s to be expected, and there’s plenty of time to make some changes. A blank canvas is a good thing, after all, even if it’s intimidating. It will be a challenge to redecorate the room according to my wants, one that will take some exploration of the space and tastes of other students.

The dorms themselves, and the campus as a whole, are far more appealing; art seems to hang on every wall, apparently done by the students here. Curious abstractions and depictions of some warped figures immediately make some of my old feelings bubble to the surface, and in a weird way, they make me feel less alone. I suppose the fact of the matter is that, no matter how lonely I might make myself feel, every student here goes through something like what I am.

The grounds themselves are massive, too large for me to traverse in a mere day; I hazard a guess that it would take a week of dedicated scouring, provided I haven’t much issue with things. I should get a start, of course, and the pathways that snake away from the central hub into greenery and towards other buildings seem like a wonderful place to collect my thoughts. Indeed, the beauty of campus was a major selling point in my transfer; a distraction from the medical care, from the student body, and from it all.

The pathways are devoid of any obstruction, as far as I can see, with no fallen branches or large stones that could cause any issue. Those responsible for keeping the grounds of Yamaku have an unenviable task, but it seems like they’ve done an excellent job. The late-bloom flowers on the various trees paint a picture of color that rivals the autumn leaves, and a fresh breeze shakes them loosely, throwing some to the mercy of the wind. Though not as beautiful as the seemingly endless cherry or plum trees I saw growing up, the greenery is far beyond that of even my old school, and far beyond that of a city park. It’s open, unfettered nature, not merely looked upon by some city dweller, but all-encompassing, surrounding the campus.

Indeed, the feeling of simply walking, of my shoes meeting gravel and earth, letting the breeze toss my hair, though not so violently as to tangle it, is something I have been missing for some time now. My mother always worried; she would accompany me, and while that’s fine, it's quite different to do so on your own. It’s freeing, honestly, and a welcome bit of positivity to counter my reservations.

It’s early enough in the day that the air hasn’t yet grown warm, and thus I am one of the few students out here. An excess of people often ruins scenic places, I find, and thus I am glad to be solitary; even in a school full of people, I hope I continue to find these quiet moments. With the minimal inhabitants of the town below, I’d hazard a guess that it will be more than doable even as things wind into full gear. I'm sure some exploration of the area around town will lead to some truly magnificent locations, if the grounds are anything to go by.

Classes are two days away, and you can tell; students already here are spending every effort to socialize and enjoy leisure activities while they have the time. I haven’t done so much; adapting and preparing have been difficult, and the sad reality is that I can’t feel comfortable going down into town by myself. Too high a risk of getting stuck; of course, that means either making friends to go down with me or being chaperoned, both of which are problematic and frustrating.

The few students I have spoken with have been… friendly, but informal. They tried to go to a first-name basis after mere minutes, and naturally I was rather uncomfortable with it all, but I’d be in the wrong if I gave them a hard time for it. Of course, there was variance as far as that went, and I’m sure some people are a bit more formal than what I’ve seen so far, but as of yet I haven’t managed to connect with anyone. I suppose that will take time and luck.

By the time I’ve finished my thoughts, I’ve looped back around to near where I began, returning from the walled world of trees and once again seeing the campus buildings themselves; the distance hits me quite hard, as I hadn’t intended to walk the full length, but I was too distracted to be observant, evidently. As I find a well-placed bench to rest my legs, more and more students breach the dorms for the day; I wonder what many of them have been doing, as the morning has nearly drawn to a close. Sleeping, perhaps.

Worry creeps in on me; what was once a quite solitary grounds, only a few others occupying my vision, has become a hub of activity, though still nothing compared to most schoolgrounds I've seen. The few people I have spoken with have been kind enough, but amid so many it’s impossible to have no conflict. I shouldn’t worry about that yet; after all, I’m only dooming myself by believing things will transpire so poorly again.

I try and shake the thoughts from my head; tiredness has clearly taken its toll on me. I should pace myself better, next time.

As I begin to make the languid march back to my room, I spy another figure not too far from me; my homeroom teacher for the upcoming year, Miss Kanno. She was awfully kind when we first spoke, all smiles and such, though still as composed as one expects of a teacher. Considering the man I spoke to that pointed mother and I in her direction looked like a drunkard and spoke like he hardly knew where he was, I was extremely grateful.

“A pleasure to see you Miss Kanno. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” I say, grateful for the opportunity to speak with her once more. It would be opportune to garner some favor before classes even begin.

“It absolutely is, Tanaka. It absolutely is.” Miss Kanno replies, with a wistful expression. “It seems many of your peers are determined to sleep through the upcoming days; I can only hope they do not forget when classes begin.”

“I doubt they will forget, Miss Kanno. I doubt many enjoy the morning, though, so they may not focus in the mornings. I can assure you that I will.” I say, trying my best to stand with good posture even as tiredness threatens to break my composure.

She waves her hand dismissively, though she’s smiling. “I suppose it can’t be helped. I’m glad you can enjoy the mornings, Miss Tanaka. I hope you’re looking forward to class.”

[FrauPerchta]

The sun is hardly in the sky by the time I'm awake, and I've already combed my hair for far too long and made sure that my makeup was without error before I even set foot towards my first class; a whole hour early. I ought to be proud, but I know it's a product of fear, not initiative. I have no idea what to expect. The past few days have been a decent primer for everything to come… I hope. Still, excitement sits at some part of the mess of my emotions; I am, genuinely, ready to begin the year.

The walk to my homeroom is one that I have made four times already, the rather uncomfortable practice from yesterday proving useful. A right by the odd painting of a red-haired man, a left thereafter, and some… stairs. I could take the elevator, but it's better to at least get the walk in, even if it means I won't be able to do much later. After all, I hardly do anything in the afternoon anyway, and have no plans. Still, the stairs are a bit awkward, as I'm still unsure of how to navigate them properly with my cane, accidentally knocking the stairs with my cane rather loudly a few times. Luckily, it seems to go unnoticed, and I make it the rest of the way without issue.

The classroom is nearly empty when I arrive, with only two students having got there before I did, seated next to each other and gesturing wildly. The black, or maybe blue-haired girl seems to notice me before the brown-haired one does, though it's the brown-haired girl who stands up and greets me excitedly. The other girl just stares.

"Hi! I'm Mikado Shiina, but everyone calls me Misha! It's nice to meet you. Oh, and that's Shiccha- Hakamichi Shizune, I mean! She's the class rep, so ask her questions! Or me!"

The girl seems enthusiastic, but kind. I look back and see the other girl, Hakamichi, has a smile on her face and is waving at me, looking far friendlier than her earlier stare.

"Ah, hello. I am Tanaka Mayu, and it's a pleasure to meet you Mikado and Representative Hakamichi," I say while gently bowing.

Mikado seems to be gesturing as I'm speaking, and I catch that it must be sign language, which tracks, as the class representative hasn't said a word. Odd that she's not in the class geared towards hearing impaired students, but I suppose she has her reasons that are her own.

"Oh wow, you're super formal and stuff! Most people just call Shicchan Shizune. And me Misha! Though I already said that- woops! Anyways. Uh, just have a seat anywhere you like, since it's the first day!"

I thank her and pick a seat at the back of the classroom. Not far enough away that it seems like I'm distancing myself from them, of course, but towards the center of the back row; neither at the side and obviously attempting to avoid notice, nor too easy for other students to watch. I prefer to be an observer, not be observed.

I pull out my notebook and begin to write simple things, like the class reps name and that of her friend’s, as well as what seat number I’ve taken. I barely notice as the door opens and a few more students enter, bit by bit, and by the time I look up the class is half full. I see a few other students with canes, as well as one student with what are clearly prosthetic legs. I try not to stare any, even as I write my stray observations into my notebook.

By the time the teacher arrives, the class is a bit fuller. In front of me sits a tan-skinned girl who yawns loudly and waves her handless arm around, nearly hitting another student in the face. To my left, a dark haired boy without any obvious traits other than the scowl on his face. And to my right, an empty seat, and the seat beyond there's a-

Another observer, just like me. Our eyes meet for a moment, her dark hair covering her face. I look down before I get much detail, and color fills my face before I can even process it. I was hoping I wasn’t being paid attention to. The girl almost immediately stands up and leaves the room, no one seeming to care or even notice, and I’m left confused and embarrassed. I know it’s not anything wrong, per say, but I’m half-motivated to apologize. If she left the room I may have looked far worse than I thought.

Class begins shortly thereafter. Miss Kanno enters and begins to go on about procedures, plans, and other things I find difficulty listening to, even though I know I should. It’s strange how no one made any note of her leaving; if this is common, then perhaps I messed up more than I thought. The idea of students here having a severe reaction to socially awkward situations hadn’t really crossed my mind, but now it seems sensible, especially for those with obvious disabilities. I didn’t really get a good look at her... I’m unsure of what to do. Perhaps I’ll try and find out more.

[FrauPerchta]

It’s a bit before I realize that the class is ending, and everyone gathers their things. Luckily, my absentmindedness goes unnoticed, and even better a friendly student just so happens to still be here, presenting an opportunity to do some digging. Of course, perhaps I wouldn’t ask such obvious questions if I were in a different state of mind. It's a few small strides before I’m at her desk, clearing my throat.

“Hi, Miss… Mikado? I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

She looks confused for a moment before answering, an odd expression on her face.

“Really, you can just call me Misha… but alright, what would you like to know?”

“It's about that dark-haired girl who left the room earlier.”

An immediate look of suspicion crosses her face, though it passes pretty quickly. Still, its

noticeable enough that I’m taken aback at the sudden shift in demeanor.

“That’s Miss Ikezawa. She… does that. Not to assume anything, but why exactly are you asking?”

I suppose that’s a good question. Could I be coming off as judgemental? Could Mikad- Misha if I must correct myself- be expecting me to complain or something? I suppose that some students must have done that before, viewing leaving class as some luxury. I must assuage her otherwise, so I suppose telling the truth is best here.

“I’m afraid it was my… error. We made eye contact and she seemed… upset by it.”

A sympathetic look crosses Misha’s face, and she actually reaches out a hand and puts it on my shoulder, a gesture caught between infantilizing and reassuring.

“That’s just how she is- it isn’t your fault. I mean, maybe you caused it, maybe you didn’t, but it’s hard to predict what will set her off. You’re fine.”

I swallow, not expecting the reassurance, though grateful for the information. Many of my suspicions are confirmed, at the least.

“Well nonetheless I’d like to apologize- do you happen to know where she might be?”

“Uh… I have no idea, actually. Maybe her room? Uh, wait a moment, actually.”

I watch as Misha turns to Hakamichi, who seems to have been watching us. A flurry of gestures pass between them before Misha turns back to me, a smile on her face.

“Shicchan says to check the library, that’s where she usually goes. If you don’t know where that is, you could come with us. We need to go there anyway, student council business, ya know?”

I had no idea either were on the student council, so it’s an interesting tidbit. Perhaps it’s something I ought to look into. Regardless, I smile and nod to let Misha and Hakamichi know that I’ll take them up on their offer. I’d like to know where the library is anyway, and with a campus this large the odds of getting lost seem far higher than I would like.

The walk seems quiet and I’m tempted to break the silence for the sake of doing so when I realize that Misha and Miss Hakamichi have been communicating in sign for almost the entire walk. I want to know what they’re talking about, obviously not to be invasive, but… is it me? Is it good? Is it just everyday girl talk? I feel a bit awkward watching them communicate while contributing nothing, but I suppose it's a step up from being expected to speak.

As soon as we enter the library they branch off to the side, lost in some conversation. It's hard to tell the tone of it, but given the rather wild gesturing and expressions on their faces, it's something serious enough. I suppose I’ll move forward alone, as while it was nice of them to lead me here, they’re clearly not all that interested in showing me around further.

I look around the library, trying to find that girl- Miss Ikezawa. All I see, unfortunately, are books, and no small number of them. Section after section of fiction and nonfiction, as well as many braille and even foriegn language books; to say the Yamaku library is well-supplied would be an understatement. I’ll have to spend some time here later, and now that I know the way I should be able to visit. It is a bit far from my room, but not too far from class, and besides, I can rest here, seeing by the many comfortable-looking pillow chairs that litter the floor.

Surprisingly enough, there aren’t many people here, just Miss Mikado and Miss Hakamichi, as well as the woman I presume is a librarian who they are having some conversation with. I peer around corners for a while before I spot her, seeing her] long dark hair, quite a bit like mine, covering her face. I try and move calmly and avoid staring at her before taking a seat near her, though with enough distance to not make things uncomfortable, I hope.

“Hello.”

I can see her looking at me out of the corner of my eye, though making out her expression is difficult to tell. She doesn’t say anything, so after what seems like a long pause I speak again, keeping my voice as calm as I can.

“I’d like to apologize for what happened in class, and… introduce myself. I’m Tanaka Mayu.”



She looks like she might run for a moment, even without looking at her directly. It’s stressful and frightening; I don’t really know why I care as much as I do. I suppose I don’t want to leave anyone upset, even if it’s futile.

But then, her body language changes. She sinks back into her seat, still tense but less so than moments earlier. I turn to look at her a bit more clearly, though I avoid staring at her directly.

“I-I’m Ikezawa Han…. Hanako.”

[FrauPerchta]

My throat is dry, and the room is shifting with a foglike haze- all sense of order evaporates as the weight of inevitable failure sets upon me.

This is going nowhere. What had seemed like an initial success in Miss Ikezawa going from looking terrified to looking only slightly agitated was apparently the only progress I could make, no matter how much I stood around to try and tease out a response measuring more than a mumble, no matter how much I tried to work myself into an apology. I can feel my right hand tense around my cane while the other grabs at the green fabric of my skirt- the desire to lash out in frustration barely withheld.

I know that isn't fair. Miss Ikezawa clearly has some kind of… social issue? Severe anxiety, at the least, and to expect her to respond to me at all, much less hold a conversation, seems frightfully overambitious.

And yet, I cannot help but feel myself a failure. My first day is marred here by the fact I even attempted this; that I caused this, that I failed to make a single meaningful connection. The students here aren't like me- they disrespect every boundary, treat me so casually and yet I do not get the feeling even one so far could be my friend. This was a mistake.

"Goodbye, Miss Ikezawa. I suppose I'll see you in class."

A declaration, rather than the question I would normally pose. A promise of giving up this mistaken attempt to connect with someone, or at least right this wrong. Who is anyone to tell me I shouldn't be upset? The dismissive attitude is worthless- should I not care simply because this happens often? Should I not try because others fail? I feel my face growing red-hot as I march out of the room, desperately willing myself to remain composed.

The barreling through the hallway, loud and uncoordinated by my standard, is only possible because of my careful routing in the previous day- I could easily be lost, now, and that would be the last thing I need.

The mid-afternoon air feels like fire against my already burning skin, a wave of lethargy and pain passing through me as I break from the twisting hallways of the main building towards the short walk to the dorms. Already, I can feel my legs weaken with every step, a consequence of my hasty retreat no doubt.

The trees and the surely beautiful setting sun are a blur as I desperately push my way towards the dorm, the world a haze of red and each step a tiny shock of pain, each attempt to suppress a wince another. I am done. I don't care, I just want to lie on my bed and cry, cry because I'm alone, because I'm here, because I shouldn't cry since tomorrow will be better- that's what my mother will say, surely.

I feel that oppressive heat slip away as I enter the ladies dorm, replaced by a wave of lethargy. A breath that I didn't know I was holding breaks from my lips, painful and ragged and undignified in every way as I suck in air like a fish condemned to shore. Everything seems to go from all too bright to too dark- the sharp pain of quickly fleeing through the school and across the grounds replaced by a familiar dull ache. I'll sleep this off- collapse in my room like a neglected ragdoll, and try and recover before morning. All willingness to think about what happened today has left me entirely.