Don't Leave Me Behind: The story of Hara Iwanako [chapter 4 art piece: 08.10.2024]

[hdkv]

Sometimes I bug myself with the questions too much, and get something strange from my mind as a reward.

Sometimes, my mind leads me to do something, that I thought I was uncapable of doing.

So, here we are, in my first thread in KS fan fiction section on the forums.

The question, that I trying to answer here: what if Iwanako didn't gave up? What if she tries to pursue Hisao after his stay in hospital? And how exactly it may work (or not)?

This is not a pseudo-route or anything like it (and it would be foolish from me to start my first work in English with almost undeliverable promises), but I have at least some chapters to write and share with you. Where it will lead me? I really don't know yet. What I know at the time of writing this, that I have some early plot developments in work already, and I will have changing PoVs down the road.

Disclaimer: author is not a native English speaker. Errors may and will occur.

---

Chapter index:

• The Last Day: (POV: Iwanako)

• Square One: (POV: Iwanako)

• Riders on the Storm: (POV: Iwanako)

• Silent Treatment: (POV: still Iwanako, but not for long)

[hdkv]

"Ms. Hara, you're free to visit Mr. Nakai, he is awake now."

The familiar voice of the nurse brings me back to reality. I've been waiting in the hall for almost an hour, sitting in a chair next to the door of his room. I tried to do some homework while I was waiting, but I didn't have the energy, and I just thought about everything I've experienced in the last six weeks.

It's late March already. For the past month and a half, my daily routine has consisted of going to school, visiting him in the hospital, and crying. A lot. Six weeks ago I decided to do something that I have wanted to do for almost a year. I waited a long time for him to take the first step, but in the end I decided I couldn't wait any longer. Since last year, I've rejected one or two confessions because they weren't his. I took the first step and... look where I am now.

My name is Hara Iwanako, and my actions almost killed the boy I like.

Every day reminds me of this. Next day after the confession I found a letter waiting for me at my desk. It contained only five words: "Hara Iwanako, the heart breaker." It was the first of many similar letters. I've received threats. I've been bullied verbally and physically. Once someone decided it would be fun to grab me by my hair, and try to cut it with scissors, and only the teacher's intervention saved me from being almost bald afterwards. And I have almost no one to tell about this, to share my pain, to ease my burden. My friends have turned their backs on me, deciding that hanging out with me is "toxic," like I'm spreading a curse or something along the lines. My parents don't have the time to listen to all of this: they work overnights to save for my future education. The only friendly person to me right now is Mrs. Nakai.

She doesn't blame me and tries to support me. We even became kind of friends. She told me a lot of stories about Hisao and treated me as his girlfriend. But Hisao never returned my feelings.

At first, he had no chance to do so. I saw the terror in his eyes when I asked him out. He tried to say something, but after a moment he fell to the cold ground, with his hand clutching his chest. I screamed. I tried to get help, but I was the one who had chosen the most remote place of the whole school grounds to meet, so there were no teachers or other students around. Eventually I called an ambulance and stayed beside Hisao, crying. Fortunately, the nearest ambulance station was in the next building, just outside the school grounds, so the medics arrived after only two or three minutes. They told me that he is lucky: if they arrived a minute or two later, he would be gone at that point.

And now he is in the hospital, recovering from a massive heart attack. He barely survived, but it's better than being dead, right?

---

"Hello, Hisao."

I enter the white hospital room where Hisao has been staying for the past six weeks and walk slowly toward his bed. He doesn't react or even acknowledge my presence. I sit down in the chair next to his bed and gently touch his shoulder. He nods in response.

I've got used to it. He barely talks and never makes eye contact with me. Every time I visit him, I try to tell him a story about how my day went, tell him something funny to cheer him up, but I never get a response. He doesn't resent me, but he always looks sad, depressed or buried in his thoughts. And since I have more and more pressure from school, I have less stories to tell him, less things to cheer him up.

Today is the first time I have nothing to tell him.

I still have no answer to my confession. I have no courage to bring it up again, because I fear a second heart attack. I think he needs to properly recover before I talk with him about our relationship. That won’t be until after he leaves the hospital, at the earliest.

I want to tell him how I feel. I want to tell him all the pain I've experienced since that day. But he has his own burden, his own pain and I need to support him, not vice versa. I'm the stronger one here. Maybe, when he returns to school, it will be easier. But what if he doesn’t return? What if he needs to finish high school at home? Or if he needs to attend a special school? A school for disabled children...

I've heard of one. Mrs. Nakai told me that Hisao's doctors suggested her and his father think about sending him, after he gets out of the hospital, to a boarding school near Sendai. She even showed me some photos of the school. It looks like a lovely and quiet place, and it specializes in accommodating students with disabilities. Their goal is to support disabled students and give them a path to future careers. And they have a hospital facility as part of the school, so this is one of the safest places someone like Hisao could attend. Truth be told, I like this place by the sound of it, but I don't like the notion of Hisao being sent there. Away from his parents. And away from me.

---

After half an hour I decided to leave Hisao's room. He said nothing since my arrival, and I have nothing to say too. I've tried to hold his cold hand, to show him my support, but he doesn't respond. The only reaction I get is an occasional sigh. He's thinking about something but doesn't tell me what's on his mind. He doesn't want to share his pain with me. And it hurts. I can't stand it anymore. The next time I need to ask him if he even wants me visiting him. I need some reaction.

I get up and walk to the door.

"Good night, Hisao. Sleep well."

After closing the door I checked my phone. I need to hurry up: Mrs. Nakai wanted to see me in half an hour to tell me something. I don't know what she has to tell me, but I have a bad feeling about it.

I walk from the hospital building and try to process my thoughts. When we talked on the phone, she told me that she received a letter from that Sendai school’s principal.

Does it mean Hisao will be sent to that school?

Does it mean that I will need to stop visiting him and try to forget him?

Does it mean...

I hear the sound of squealing brakes, then I feel something hitting me from behind with unbelievable force. I try to scream, but I can't. The next moment the world is pitch black.

---

Special thanks to Hanako Fancopter for being the editor of this chapter.

[hdkv]

It’s been three months since the accident.

I don’t remember half of this time. When I opened my eyes for the first time I was told that today is the first of May. I was struck by a cargo truck, and after that sedated in the intensive care unit for the following month.

I was lucky: the doctors were successful in their attempt to rebuild my broken limbs, and after a series of surgeries my legs are healing properly.

The only problem is that I can’t move them.

Spinal cord damage is a common result of road accidents. It is considered catastrophic: there is no recovery or cure available. In other words, this wheelchair is my new best friend. And I need to accept it and try to live my life going forward.

Of course, it’s better than being dead. Or is it? If I could choose an outcome, I’m not sure I would choose this.

Thankfully, my arms are working properly. They didn’t even need any surgery and healed without intervention. For the last month I’ve used them to learn how to operate my new moving mechanism. Guess they will be pretty strong going forward.

After returning from the intensive care unit I learned that no one from the school tried to visit me. Guess if they needed some proof that I’m “cursed,” they got it. First I almost killed Hisao, and now barely managed to survive myself.

Speaking of Hisao: it’s been three months since I visited him.

When I woke up for the first time, my parents were at my bedside. They told me that Mrs. Nakai sent me a letter with the best wishes, and she apologized because she can’t visit me. She told them that she needed to return to overnight working because she needs money to pay for Hisao’s new school. Boarding school is expensive, to be sure, and he will be sent to his new school when he is released from the hospital.

I wanted to call Hisao the moment I returned to reality but decided against doing it. He has his own things to sort out, especially after hospital release, and I don’t want to make him worry about me. I will have plenty of time to explain things to him, but not now. Now I need to concentrate on my own future, wheelchair and all. How am I supposed to live going forward? How am I supposed to finish my education?
Hisao didn’t return my feelings when I was healthy and supportive. Now it looks like I need support. Will he even look at me the next time we meet?

---

Summer is a beautiful time. After learning how to operate the wheelchair I was permitted to roll around in a nearby garden. I’m excited that I can leave my hospital room because it’s boring and depressing. I can’t even imagine how Hisao managed to cope with staying in his hospital room, basically chained to his bed. Maybe that’s why he was so sad when I visited him.

Today my garden “walk” ended early: my parents arrived to visit me before the doctors decide if I’m ready to be released.

When I entered my hospital room, there were three people inside. My father, my mother and my doctor were happy to see me. It looks like they discussed something before I entered the room.

“Ms. Hara, good afternoon”, said the doctor.

“Mom, Dad, Doctor, good afternoon”, I said, rolling to my bed.

The doctor opened a folder with my medical records and continued:

“Well, as you may guess, today we decided to release you from the hospital. All that we can cure here, we’ve done. Of course, you need to adjust to your new requirements, but”, the doctor looked at me with a smile, “you’re doing pretty well in that regard. Surprisingly well, to be honest.”

Well, that was one reason to be happy.

“It is common that after hospital patients return to their respective homes, schools or workplaces. But there is an obstacle that prevents you from returning home, unfortunately.”

“Well, my dear, we need to renovate our house to accommodate your new requirements”, said Dad, “but we’re not finished yet. You may return home with us, if you wish, but you will be effectively locked in your room until renovation is done. Unfortunately, neither me or your mother can leave our work to help you in the meantime.”

“I understand, Father. That’s unfortunate, but I guess I can’t stay in the hospital for that time either?”

“No, you can’t. Also, we decided that you shouldn’t return to your old school. You’ve been bullied even before this accident: I don’t think that you want to return to such a hostile environment afterwards.”

“Well, let me guess...”, I said.

I can’t believe it.

“Yamaku?”

“How did you know?”

“Father, do you remember Nakai? The boy, that almost died in my hands?”

“Of course I do. You can’t just forget such an impactful event. But how did you know about that school?”

“Mrs. Nakai told me about it, and I even saw some photos. I guess, the day, when I was struck by a truck, she wanted to tell me, that they decided to put Hisao in that school.”

“Well, it seems that I don’t need to tell you about this school much. So, do you want to try to graduate at that school?”

“I will try, at least. When will I be transferred to the school?”

Mother took my hand and squeezed it.

“Immediately, my dear. Do you want us to help you to pack your things?”

---

Special thanks to Hanako Fancopter for being the editor of this chapter.

[hdkv]

It rains.

Our car is slowly crawling in a traffic jam on the road between Tokyo and Sendai. My parents decided that it’s best to drive me straight to school, without using trains or other public transport.

After releasing me from the hospital, they moved me from my wheelchair to the back seat of the car, packed all my stuff, and headed straight to the road to Yamaku. My father always hated long drive sessions but decided that he can cope with a five-hour long drive.
Now I’m sitting in the back of our car and looking at the rain outside the window.

It started as a small rain just outside Tokyo but became heavier and heavier as we went north. At this point it looks like a full-on storm, with strong wind and lightning strikes. The sound of thunder nicely mixes with the music my parents chose to listen to.

They really like old rock and passed their love of old Western music to me. I spent all my childhood listening to vinyls of The Beatles, Led Zeppelin and similar bands. When they gifted me my first iPod back in junior high school, I immediately loaded it with the Abbey Road album, and listened to it on repeat almost everywhere. Our local popular music doesn’t touch me as much as these old tunes.

I feel relaxed. The road to my immediate future looks very calm and pleasing, to be honest. I can only hope that the coming days will be as calm as this one right now.

My brain decided that I need to nap, and I won’t complain.

---

When we arrived at Yamaku, the rain had already stopped. Father chooses to park the car near the main entrance of the school. The grounds around look pretty Western to me: like I’m not in Japan anymore, but in some place in the United States. Those who built the school must have really liked Western architecture.

“Do you want us to roll you to the dorm, or try to make it yourself?”, asked mother.

“I’ll try myself. I will need to do it myself for the rest of the school year, right?”

With a sigh, she stops rolling me and pulls her hands from the handles of wheelchair. Now I’m in control of my movements.

“You can look around the school gardens and mark places where you will need to go regularly, and we’ll put your things in your dorm room while you do that. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Father unpacked my stuff from the car and my parents started walking towards a three-store building — my new dorm, I guess? I decided to look around before I move myself anywhere. It looks like the rain stopped not long ago: the ground is still wet and I see some raindrops on the leaves of nearby trees. The clouds in the sky are low, maybe it will rain again tonight.

I see something in front of the central school building and roll myself towards it. It is an information stand with a map of the school. It tells me that yes, the building where my parents went is the girls dormitory; the building where this stand was placed is the main school facility; and placed on the left side are auxiliary medical building and the boys dormitory. The board also contains basic advices for school visitors and a list of rules for students. I noted that the morning lessons in this schedule are placed an hour earlier than in my old school. Eww. I hate early mornings, now it looks like I will need to wake up earlier than I did before my car accident.

The only thing that puts me off now is that I don’t see anyone around. Where are the other students? Yes, this is a school for the disabled, but it doesn’t mean that they can’t walk around after classes, right? It just rained though, so maybe all of them decided to stay inside. Well, I will meet some of them anyway, sooner or later.

---

I rolled myself to the girls dorm to see that my parents were already heading out.

“Iwanako!”

“Yeah, father?”

“We’ve placed your things in your new room. It’s room 314 on the third floor. They have elevators and stuff, so it will be easy for you to make it there. Here is your key.”

I pick up the key from father’s hand. It has an attached label with my name and room number.

“The school administration said that it’s expected that you meet your neighbors and you will eventually figure out how you can help each other. They have hospital stuff here too, but they believe that the students also must play a part in fulfilling each other’s needs. You may want to meet your neighbor before the end of the day, she may be able to help you with tasks that are hard for you right now.”

Like undressing, huh. There is really some stuff that I can’t do properly now. Maybe, maaaybe one day that stuff will be handled by some brown-haired boy, but right now I have no choice but to rely on someone new and unexpected.

“Okay, father. Anything else?”

“We need to return now, so, goodbye! Hopefully this school will be better to you than the old one”, said mother.

I hug her, and say: “Well, that’s not a very high bar to achieve.”
My father chuckles then hugs me.

I wave to them as they move out from the gates. After I lose sight of them, I open the dorm door and roll inside.

---

This room is nicer than my hospital one.

It has beige walls and a similarly colored bed with green sheets. On one side of the bed are handles that I can use to move in and out of my wheelchair, on the other is an ordinary nightstand with a lamp and my alarm, already set to the new wake up time. There is a desk behind the window and a tall closet near the door.

I open the closet and see three new school uniforms beside my own clothes, neatly put here by my parents. Guess I need to wear one of them every day while I’m here.

Speaking of which, I still need to meet my neighbor that, I hope, will help me with that task. In my current condition I can’t change or undress the lower part of my body, so I will need someone to help me with that no further than this night.

I really don’t feel like bothering someone, but I have no choice. I roll out of my room and head straight into the opposite side of the hall. There are name plates under room numbers, so I read the name of the occupant of room 315 before I press the doorbell.

“Hakamichi Shizune.”

---

Special thanks to Hanako Fancopter for being the editor of this chapter.

[Feurox]

Ok I really love this. It's digestible, in good chunks that don't overstay their welcome. Iwanako comes across as really sympathetic, (A bit mopey but, like, come on that's fair enough). Obviously the premise itself is a bit too coincidental, but i don't really think that matters. The preamble was just about getting Nako to exist in the same time as Hisao at Yamaku, and I think you handle it well enough. Coupled with the obvious parallels and juxtapositions; Nako is physically disabled and Hisao is invisibly disabled. What will their interaction be like when they finally meet again? (Theoretically, couldn't Hisao be with Hanako in this time frame... anyway exciting stuff! I look forward to more.

Oh and your writing is really good! I love the opening to the last scene. 'It rains'. It's subtle, and it establishes the disconnect Nako feels between her and reality, I hope we see her warming back to life. And Hisao not seemingly caring about her leaves room for some lovely confrontation

Lastly, she rings the doorbell for Shizune? I assume Yamaku accommodates her disability, but its quite funny to imagine she's just ringing it and Shizune can't hear it aha.

[hdkv]

Thanks for the kind words, Feurox!

What will their interaction be like when they finally meet again? (Theoretically, couldn't Hisao be with Hanako in this time frame... anyway exciting stuff! I look forward to more.

To be fair: I don't know yet. When I started third chapter, I got one of three options circling around in my head... and in the end, it turned out in entirely different direction! I kinda wish myself to know, what will be come next

Also, I put it in the timeframe, where Nako arrived just barely before Hisao establish relationships with one of the girls. So no outcome is wrote off the table yet.

Lastly, she rings the doorbell for Shizune? I assume Yamaku accommodates her disability, but its quite funny to imagine she's just ringing it and Shizune can't hear it aha.

It will be explained in the next chapter, and imagine her interacting with Shizune when no Misha around to help.

[Siphonata]

This is a very enjoyable fanfiction that expands on Iwanako's character. I can't wait to see how she'll interact with Shizune.

[Mirage_GSM]

The question, that I trying to answer here: what if Iwanako didn't gave up? What if she tries to pursue Hisao after his stay in hospital?

Okay, when I read this I did not expect she would (inadvertently) throw herself in front of a truck to "pursue" him.

Overall a very nice start. Not much to say so far other than I've always liked reading stories about Iwanako. Since she has a very small role in the VN, that leaves much freedom for her characterization.

As for the timeframe: She arrives after the summer holidays, so if you stick to the original routes, all but Shizune's would be finished by that point one way or the other, and in Shizune's they would have just started dating...

I kinda hope you don't have Iwanako be a homewrecker, so I'm rooting either for a post bad end story (e.g. with Lilly having left for Scotland or Rin having changed schools) or for a completely new continuity.

Not much to say about SPaG other than there is no plural for "advice" and "It rains." should probably be "It is raining." here.

[hdkv]

This thread is not left behind.

I'm in a whirlwind of events, starting from my divorce and moving into another place to live. Sorry, but all my current projects, including this one, is on a pause till at least April.

I have some plan for future chapters and need some time to properly plan where this story will go. Stay tuned

[hdkv]

I press the button; it is located fairly low, so I don’t need to push myself to touch it.

Nothing happens.

Wondering if I’m missing something important, I press the button once again.

No sound. Hm. Is this thing even working?

I almost push the button for the third time when the sound of an opening door crashes through the deafening silence of the corridor, startling me.

“Eek!”

For a moment I instinctively roll back, before stopping and looking at the doorframe. A girl is standing in front of me, with a mixture of curiosity and worry on her face. Her dark blue hair barely touches her glasses, and her eyes are looking towards me.

“Hello?”

She nods and waves her hand, inviting me into her room. The first thing I noticed when I rolled inside is how proper the room was. A stack of books was precisely aligned on her desk, the bed was made with perfect lined up sheets, all things were placed in order, there were no stray pens, papers or anything else really. If I saw this room in any other circumstances, I’d have assumed that it was specifically prepared for some sort of house fashion exhibition.

I feel a gentle touch on my shoulder followed by something making contact with my hands.

A notebook opened to a fresh page.

“Hello. I hate this way, but we have no other option as of now. Write here.”

I glance back at her. She nods and gives me a shiny silver pen.

“Why?”, I write and hand the notebook back to her. She takes it back and quickly scribbles something.

“I’m deaf, and Misha, who translates for me, has gone home for the weekend. And I assume you don’t know how to sign, do you?”

Ouch. My question was rude, it seems, but she handled it as matter-of-factly as possible.

“I’m sorry. I’m your new neighbor and I wanted to introduce myself, as well as ask for some help.”

She takes the notebook and smiles.

“Hello, Iwanako. You can call me Shizune.”

Passing the notebook back and forth for communication is something new for me. Of course, I’ve heard about deaf people before, but I never met one in person… up until now. Given that now I’m in a special school, I must get used to all sorts of strange and unusual things people do to combat their limitations.

“How did you know my name?”
“You’re my neighbor after all, so I wanted to be prepared to meet you. Also, I’m the Student Council President, so I was notified beforehand that we’d be getting another transfer student this year.”

Another? Do you mean…

“You’ve had more than one transfer student this year?”

When she reads this line, I notice a sudden sparkle in her eyes. For a moment she mulls the pen in her hand before replying:

“Why do you want to know?”

I don’t think I want to answer this question for the time being. First of all, we’ve barely just met, so dumping almost half a year of my story doesn’t seem like a good idea. Secondly, I don’t even know if the other transfer student is the one that I’m thinking about, and I don’t know for sure whether he has moved on with his life yet or not, and what if she’s my rival for his heart? I decide to play it safe:

“Ah, nothing, just curious.”
“Curiosity kills the cat. Rin would say that it is safe for you to be curious because you’re neither a cat nor a Cat, but I’m not Rin. Anyway, I hope we’ll get along, but I really hate to talk using a notebook, so let’s wrap up the small talk for today. How can I help you?”

Whoever she is, Rin may be a fun person to talk to, I assume.

I quickly write a list of things I need help with, given that the lower part of my body doesn’t want to cooperate with me. Shizune, after reading the list, nods and waves towards my room.

---

The next half an hour was spent “listening to” (well, reading) the instructions that Shizune gave to me. It seems like this school is prepared for many cases of partially immobilized students, so the uniform and all the other items they provide can actually be used without moving your body back and forth, so I can dress, undress and do other frequently needed stuff without assistance. She also explained how she found out that I was calling at the door in the first place: instead of using sound, her doorbell is connected to a bulb which lights up when you press the button, and to the vibrating stick under her bedsheets in case she’s sleeping. I also learned from her that there are multiple third year classrooms, and that we will be attending different ones, because the only empty spot in her class was occupied before by someone else.

I changed into the uniform and adjusted it several times before she gave me a satisfied nod and then wrote:

“I think that’s it for today. If you happen to need more help, don’t hesitate to ask. Good night!”

Without waiting for a reply, she waves her hand and leaves.

I roll myself back towards the table and look around. This will be my new home for the next year, and I want it to make it as good as possible. Small poster here, some books there… It may not be as impressive or tidy as Shizune’s room, but I want to make it my home, and not just a blank dormitory room without any character behind it. But that’s for another time, today I’m too tired and I need to wake up early next morning. I open my bag that is sitting on the table and fetch the only thing that I need for a good sleep.

My music player.

It’s a black colored iPod with a purple wheel my mother gave me for my last birthday. Using a special software to upload songs onto it was always a tiring chore but I like how it sounds, so I’m willing to live with some minor inconveniences. I grab my headphones and then roll myself towards the bed. I place the device on the bedstand so I can reach it any time I want and then push myself from the wheelchair onto the bed.

iwanako_ipod.png (5.32 MiB) Viewed 485 times

Damn, this hurts. I need to do something about my arm’s strength, otherwise I’ll struggle with moving back and forth between the bed and the wheelchair for a long time.

Finally satisfied with my position in bed, I reach towards the music player and put on the headphones. Shuffling around the albums, I think about the future. What will this school bring for me? How will I adapt to interacting with other students without being rude or annoying? What will this year look like?

Is Hisao here?

Finally deciding on the song that I want to listen to, I press “play”:

“…I'm longing for your touch and
I welcome your sweet six six six in my heart…”

Tomorrow will be an interesting day…

---

Huge thanks to Tibix and Alex FRD for proofreading and editing this chapter.

Thanks Nio for the gorgeous art piece for this chapter.

Hoo boy, it was a fucking year since I returned to this creature. It wasn't the most pleasant year for me, and all my plans that I made before the start of 2024 gone haywire. I got divorced, moved into a new apartment for a while, changed my plans (and canceled some trips) multiple times, etc etc. Half a year I just spent combating all the different issues and working on getting back on track with my life. But most importantly, I got many new friends who helped me along this journey. Especially, two adorkable people in my team, who greet me every day and shine a beacon of new horizons far, far away. Thank you.

Hope next chapter will be released faster than in a year. Stay tuned!

[Alex FRD]

We're so back. At your service, Mr. Server Host.

[hdkv]

New illustration for the Chapter 4 added. Thanks Nio for this awesome picture!

[Alex FRD]

Ooh, now with art! Very nice!

[ShizuneFan2019]

As a huge fan of Iwanako, I like your idea (of making her disabled and joining her crush's school) a lot! And I notice that both of us, in our respective stories, have somewhat similar perceptions on her personality. I'm looking forward to the next update.

I'm not a native English speaker either, and interestingly, I also find some similarities between our work. As a word of encouragement, you may elaborate more in each scene before moving forward to the next one (e.g. how the character feels, description of the surroundings, gestures of the person they're talking to). This will make your story richer in terms of content.

Hope next chapter will be released faster than in a year. Stay tuned!

As for the update rate, my suggestion is to write what you're interested in, and what you're familiar with. Then you'll have lots of content to write about, and you'll write non-stop.