Trapped all the Same - An unfulfilled SS20 Prompt for Lap

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Feurox
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Trapped all the Same - An unfulfilled SS20 Prompt for Lap

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Trapped all the Same

"A wretched soul, bruised with adversity."

Image
"Are memories such an important thing?"
"It depends," she replies, and closes her eyes. "In some cases, they're the most important thing there is.”
Kafka on the Shore, Haruki Murakami
I take another long drag and flick the embers into the dark below.

Haruhiko shakes his head at me. He’s not very good at hiding his judgemental looks. His hands hold onto the scaffold railing for dear life. It’s a long way down old boy.

“Smoking is indispensable if one has nothing to kiss.” I throw him that curveball.

He strokes his chin in thought. “Freud?”

“Ding ding ding,” I announce loudly.

“Like breaking and entering wasn’t bad enough,” Haru whispers.

“It’s not really breaking and entering if they leave the door open.” I reply normally. There’s no one around, and thus no need to whisper.

“So much for covert.” Interjects the fun police.

“Or what? The Yamaku Secret Service will beat us senseless?” I reply sarcastically.

“Careful Ritsu, you’re beginning to sound like my dorm-mate.” Hisao laughs, referencing that strange guy who lives across the hall from him. He walked out of his room completely naked while I was knocking on Hisao’s door one time. I’ve never seen him since. Not that I’ve been dying to see him again.

“They’re real,” I laugh. “We call them the student council.”

“Mean,” Haru replies, looking quite frightened. Whether he’s more afraid of the height or of the prospect of the student council duo hearing me remains to be seen.

The three of us shimmy in between the scaffold frame and the window of the second floor science classrooms. I peer into the dark classroom and can just about make out the tables and chairs. It’s a bit creepy, being half inside school during the night, but it’s also kind of exhilarating. I can see myself sitting in Mr Takami’s biology class, staring out the very window I’m now looking in from. The daytime version of me and the nighttime version of me separated by a pane of glass.

A gust of wind makes the various pieces of plastic cladding and tarp flutter, and the scaffold groans from below. Hisao’s face betrays him, as he looks down with obvious terror. Haru offers him a reassuring smile and gently rubs his back.

“Careful now you two. I wouldn’t want poor Molly to worry about the nature of your friendship.” I tease, and before either of them can reply with something witty, the scaffold groans and shakes again.

I grab the railing with only a little difficulty. My fingers are a little cold; my wrist splints make it a little difficult to wear gloves and were it not for the cigarette, I’d have them tucked into my pocket. Haru and Hisao are lucky to be able to wear their mittens.

We slowly climb the ramp up, the groaning of the scaffold the only sound between us.

With the winds settled a little we lower ourselves onto the edge of the platform, the piping of the scaffold like one of those rollercoaster safety guards between us and a seriously long drop. Hisao reaches for his backpack and produces a large thermos, as well as a sleeve of Styrofoam cups.

“Should we be drinking coffee this late?” Haru asks, ever the fusspot. He lifts the sleeve of his jacket to see his watch. “Even if it is technically morning.”

I feel the warmth of my cigarette beginning to burn the tips of my fingers but take one final drag. It burns my lips a little, but the momentary warmth makes it worth the risk. With a final flick, the embers spiral into the shadows below.

“Relax Haru,” Hisao replies with a tender smile. “It’s hot chocolate tonight.”

I clap and rub my hands together softly. Both to fight the chill and in anticipation of one of Hisao’s hot chocolates - he uses melted chocolate rather than that powdery stuff. C’est magnifique.

“I suppose this is one of the last times we can come up here before winter break.” Haru offers a bit solemnly.

“Mmm.” Hisao hums in agreement. I look out toward the horizon.

Yamaku fortunately, or unfortunately if you’re one the less mobile students, sits on a hilltop. One of the first things I noticed when I arrived here was the view. Below Yamaku there’s a sleepy little town, but the way it's nestled between hills, you’d think it was invisible to the world. It always feels like a privilege to be able to see it. Like only a few people will ever get to see it, with most driving by completely oblivious to its existence. A few lights punctuate the dark: late night workers, early morning risers.

I take the hot chocolate Hisao offers me. It’s warm, and delightfully thick.

“Where did you learn to make hot chocolate like this, man?” I ask.

Hisao smiles.

“The winter holidays are one of the few times that my parents take time off. It’s tradition in the Nakai household to make hot chocolate, usually with marshmallows and chocolate.” Even in the cold, I can see the memory warming him up. “We don’t spend much time together, so it’s special to me.”

“Well, you stiffed us on the marshmallows,” Haru teases, taking a swig of his own drink. “This is really…”

“Delicious.” I finish for him.

“Are you two heading home for the holidays?” Hisao asks.

“We haven’t decided yet,” Haru answers and I nod my head in agreement.

Haru and I don’t live together, but we’re from the same village. His dad and my dad play golf together, or something equally posh. My dad owns a pharmaceutical company, and Haru’s dad works as the CEO for it. They often joked that it was some kind of cruel twist of fate that both of their children would be born with abnormalities, but at least we’d always have each other.

“My family aren’t big on together time, so Haru and I were thinking of spending it at his dad’s cabin way out in the sticks.” That’s a bold-faced lie. My family absolutely loves together time. Too much. And they always invite my asshole uncle. And they all get way too drunk.

Haru simply nods in confirmation. Some people say we’re like siblings. We go everywhere together. Do everything together. We even wear the same hairband, though that was because I found a pack with two, not because we’re secretly twins.

“Shall we get to the reason I summoned you two here today?” I ask, and they both give me their attention.

I offer my cup to the sky.

“To the science club, and its fearless president.”

Hisao laughs, and Haru gives him another gentle pat on the back.

We toast, our legs dangling above the dark grounds of Yamaku below. Somewhere below, in the cold and sleepy town, the morning dew starts to settle. A light in a bedroom goes on. A mother checks on her crying child. A man lets his car run to thaw the ice on his windshield. I don’t see any of it, but it’s fun to imagine.

“There wouldn’t be a science club if it wasn’t for you,” Hisao says almost solemnly, offering me his cup to toast, “I wouldn’t have a lot of what I have now, if it wasn’t for you.”

I shrug and press my cup to his, “Nonsense, you’d have been adopted by some other clique. Or maybe you’d have ended up in Shizune’s clutches. I can imagine a world where she trapped you.”

“What a world,” Hisao laughs.

I can still remember Hisao’s first day at Yamaku all that time ago. How he seemed like a man outside of his own body, and how he was being pulled in all directions. He’s a handsome guy, so there were a few interested girls. Maybe he was just thankful to become friends with a girl who wasn’t trying to get into his pants.

“Besides, we’d still be getting tutoring from Lezard if it wasn’t for you.” Haru adds, shuddering at the thought. Or perhaps the cold. Maybe it’s both.

Hisao shakes his head. “What a knob.”

Haru laughs in agreement. “Unequivocally. I wish you had met him before you joined. Or seen his face when he found out you and Molly were an item.”

I wince a bit at the memory. Lezard threatened to ‘kick Hisao’s ass’. I’m not even sure he could do that, but a friend of Molly’s, Taro, put a stop to that idea quite quickly. It was extremely pathetic watching Lezard storm off crying.

With another strong gust of wind, one end of the tarp below us becomes partially untethered and the whole structure shakes violently. I grip onto the railing with both hands, and it absolutely kills. Hisao and Haru both grab on to the piece we’re sitting on, and another groan comes from somewhere within the structure.

“That one was exciting,” I laugh. Haru’s hair has come untied and starts flapping around in front of his eyes. “Aren’t you glad I texted you both?”

Haru rolls his eyes and scoffs.

Hisao simply chuckles. I’m glad he’s more fun now, he used to be a bit of a buzzkill, “Nothing better than waking up at one-am for a near-death experience.”

“If you would only stop meeting girls after mildly cryptic messages, your lifespan would be far higher.” I tease. I don’t often joke about Hisao’s condition or the heart attack that landed him here, but sometimes an opportunity presents itself. He takes it well, offering a sad little chuckle. All three of us watch the tarp below flutter helplessly in the wind, a flag signalling that we should probably get down soon.

“If I didn’t meet girls after cryptic messages, I wouldn’t have met Molly. Or you guys.” He smiles with a nostalgic and solemn look on his face.

“You also wouldn’t be up here, endangering your life and losing out on your sleep.” Haru jokes.

“True,” Hisao pretends to scratch his chin in thought.

I reach into my pocket and fiddle with the cigarette packet. Below, the silhouette of the trees sway and the quiet town starts to slowly wake up.

I pull out my phone. No messages. No reply.

“Who would call you at this time?” Hisao asks, hoisting himself up and extending a hand to Haru.

“Nobody, I just thought I felt a text.” I lie.

Haru raises an eyebrow suspiciously but doesn’t press the matter. He shimmies over and helps me up.

The three of us make our way back down, carefully. Aside from a small gust that forces us all to grab the rails, it’s fairly uneventful. I’ve never actually seen the night security here, but as we walk back through the empty pathways Hisao looks over his shoulder a lot - like someone who is afraid of getting caught.

“Relax man,” I tell him with a reassuring smile. Haru and Hisao are walking on the path, like chumps, while I strut along the pathway railing.

“If you fall over, I’m leaving you there.” Hisao says.

“I’d kick you, for good measure.” Haru adds with a playful smirk.

With friends like these...

Before long, we’re parting at the fork between the dorms. I give them both a fist bump and roll back onto my heels.

Sometimes it feels as if the night is the only time I own. Not that you can ever actually own time, but there are less expectations at night. You can be more honest; you can be the person you really are. My phone vibrates in my pocket.

“Yeah, I’m awake. You want to come over?”

I bite my thumbnail, and head in the direction of the boys’ dorm.

Haru and I don’t do everything together.

Any more.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“You animal!”

Molly laughs, wrestling with Hisao and the curry bread he tried to force-feed her.

“Thump him Molly,” I encourage her, but she’s a terrible martial artist and quickly finds her face covered in crumbs.

Haru picks up his own bread and looks at me suggestively.

“Just try it,” I dare him. He quickly drops the bread and offers a surrender with his hands in the air.

The cafeteria is bustling today. Not many people want to sit outside considering how cold it’s getting, and since they had that allergy scare last month, the food has significantly improved.

On a table a few rows back, Lezard and Akio from my class are chatting to some second-year girls. Akio sees me looking and waves, whilst Lezard just looks straight through me. I wave to them both and return to my own meal.

“I told you I wasn’t hungry,” Molly laughs, brushing the crumbs from her cheek. “I swear you never listen.” She says it playfully, but that’s quite the scathing criticism of Hisao, and he scoffs in mock indignation.

“The thanks I get for ensuring that my girlfriend eats,” he shakes his head. “Sometimes this boyfriend malarky is a thankless job.”

“Heroic,” Haru comments. “President Nakai continues his enduring legacy of being a truly compassionate soul.”

Taro coughs from beside me. The guy is really imposing.

Being sandwiched between Taro and Haru doesn’t give me much space, but it was the only way to squeeze everyone onto one table. Beside Haru, Misaki plays with her phone, and opposite her, sat beside Hisao, Takashi doodles something in that little leather notebook he’s always carrying around. I suspect it’s full of drawings of Misaki; he’s apparently been in love with her since they arrived here in first year, though she friend zoned him pretty hard.

With the whole science club sat around one table you’d expect us to be discussing something intellectual, but until Hisao attacked Molly with the bread we’d spent the lunch break making jokes about the substitute biology teacher’s moustache. This is just how lunch goes at Yamaku, or at least it is since Hisao joined us several months ago. They used to be the same, but smaller, and with Lezard.

Taro waves over to a group of second years and one approaches the table. He offers Taro a fist bump, and the two start discussing something. It’s not one I know personally, but I recognise him. He taps Taro on the shoulder and whispers something in his ear.

“Thank you, Ashai.” Taro replies, “Keep up your exercises huh, gonna get swole!” and the guy flexes his muscles before returning to his own friends.

“One of your second year friends?” Molly asks.

Taro laughs. He has a deep laugh. I think I’m a little bit afraid of him.

“I know everyone and everything, nothing happens on this campus without my knowledge,” He laughs. “Like how you three went climbing last night.” His eyes narrow in on Hisao across from him, and then he gives Haru and I the same stare.

Christ I really am frightened by him. In an admirable sort of way, I think.

“How scandalous!” Misaki exclaims, maybe a little offended to not get the invite.

“Didn’t invite the whole gang? That’s cold guys.” Takashi shakes his head mockingly. Molly has a sort of wistful look, but it’s obvious why we didn’t invite her. And I didn’t invite the others because I didn’t want to. Simple.

“The scaffolding, again?” Molly playfully smacks Hisao.

“It was Ritsu’s idea, smack her.”

Coward!

Haru lifts his hand to smack me, but I catch his wrist and flick him on the nose with my other hand.

“I just wanted one more adventure before winter break,” I explain to a table full of curious faces.

They all nod in agreement. Other than Takashi, I don’t think any of them are hurt that I didn’t invite them.

“What did you guys talk about?” Misaki asks, popping open the tab on a can of coffee and offering it to me.

God, I love her.

I take a sip and offer her the rest of my rice, which she politely declines. “The club, and what our plans are for the holiday. That sort of thing.” I answer.

“And how much of an asshole Lezard is,” Haru says. “It was really windy too; I think it was a poorly thought-out assassination attempt by Ritsu.”

“If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t push you off of a building like some coward,” I pat Haru on the head. “Boyo.”

“So, what are you two doing for the holidays?” Takashi asks, grouping us out of instinct.

I give the same shrug I offered last night to Hisao.

“We’re going to spend it at my father’s lake house,” Haru answers for me. “My family gets a bit…”

“Overbearing.” I finish for him.

Apparently, that’s my holiday plans sorted now, which is fine. I was only waiting for Haru to confirm that we could spend it together anyway. I wonder how much he actually wants to spend the holiday with me, or if he’s just trying to protect me, again. He’s gotten quite good at that, but he’s had a lot of practice.

Takashi nods and looks to Taro.

“Spending it with my family. Get to see my little brother and sister again, and the Arai family go big on Christmas.”

Takashi chuckles.

“The infiltration from the west makes its foothold in the Arai house.” He laughs, and Taro just looks at him confused.

Me too, Taro. What a weird thing to say.

“What’re you doing for the holidays, Molly?” I ask her since she’s taken on a bit of a glum expression.

She swallows.

“I’ll be staying on campus. It’s only me and my stepdad back home, and I try to keep as much distance as possible.” Hisao shoots her a look I don’t recognise. “We used to celebrate Christmas too, but I never really liked the holiday. Lots of family; lots of awkward looks. Lots of alcohol.”

The table adopts her solemn look. It’s not hard to imagine the holiday turning awkward, and I can sympathise with wanting to avoid your family. I can sympathise more than anyone.

Hisao wears a sad expression, and he whispers something in Molly’s ear. The two become engrossed in their own little world.

“I’m probably going to spend it here as well,” Takashi adds, talking only to Haru and me now. Taro is doing something on his phone.

“I’m heading home, but I’m only an hour or so away, so I might be back and forth. Depends how much homework I have.” Misaki says without looking at us. It’s obvious she’s trying to snoop on Hisao and Molly’s conversation.

Thankfully, her snooping is interrupted by the chime of the bell. Classes.

Haru and I get up in perfect sync. Molly and Hisao don’t budge, locked in a heated conversation. I reach across the table and tap him on the shoulder.

“Oh, right.”

The seven of us meander back to class, with Taro at the back like a bouncer and Hisao and Molly still talking privately.

I pull on Haru’s arm.

“So, we’re spending the winter break together then, that’s a definite?”

“Yeah,” he replies bluntly. “Look, I know you don’t want to go back home, and my dad said it was alright if we took the lake house, provided we do some jobs for him.” Haru wraps his arm around me. “Besides, I like spending the holidays with you.”

The arm hold becomes a sideways hug.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he laughs. “We’re the science club twins. We do everything together.”

Takashi looks back at us with an amused smile, turning his whole body so as to walk backwards.

“You know that isn’t what they call you, right?”

“Shut up Takashi,” Haru laughs.

“Yeah, shut up Takashi.”

“Shutting up!” He replies, walking backwards into class with his hands up in the air.

I look around the class, and it seems that we’re some of the last to arrive. A few empty tables remain, like Ikezawa’s, who I’ve never really understood but who has come out of her shell a little and who I’ve seen chatting with the newspaper duo before. Akio and Lezard, who must still be hobbling behind us, are nowhere to be seen.

I give Natsume, Naomi and Hanako a wave and a smile as I pass by them, which they all reciprocate. In front of my desk, Shizune and Misha are already scribbling away writing notes, and I give them a stern look, which they ignore. Everyone gives Hisao and Molly a wave though. I wonder if that’s a nice feeling, to be almost universally well-liked.

Finally, Akio and Lezard enter just moments before Mutou. Akio gives me a pleasant nod and returns a pen he borrowed before lunch with a guilty sort of smile. Lezard looks at me, maybe looking for something inside me, but he finds nothing and sits down.

“Actually,” Akio whispers. “I think I still need that pen.”

I laugh and huck it at his head.

_____________________________________________________________________________

I watch the thin wisp of smoke trail up from the tip of my cigarette. Below me, the cladding around the scaffolding flutters carelessly.

“You’re just like your father,” Haru whispers through a yawn.

“I think basic human anatomy might disagree with you.”

Haru fakes a laugh. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m deliberately ignoring you,” I reply coldly, and take another drag. “You speak an infinite deal of nothing,” I tell him.

Haru laughs genuinely this time. “Shakespeare.”

I raise my eyebrows at him, surprised he got it. He always hated Shakespeare when we were younger.

“Educated guess.”

“Games of quotation,” I whisper.

Below us, the lights of the town have mostly gone out. The occasional glittering light from a passing car, the soft glow of the streetlights, the gentle ebb and flow of a blinking crane light; they’re all that stand between the valley and total darkness.

Haru pulls his winter jacket across his chest, he’s holding a small torch. “Anyway, friends tell each other hard truths.”

I sigh and offer him my hand. He takes it, carefully wrapping his fingers around my brace. I think I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, but it's a phantom. A biting wind hits me, and I nestle into Haru’s arms.

“The year is coming to its end, huh?” I change the subject.

I feel Haru nod, his chin lightly brushing my head as he does. “Have you thought about college? Where we might want to go?”

I haven’t, and I shake my head accordingly, “Somewhere far away, maybe another country.” I say between puffs.

“We can go anywhere - anywhere you want, Ritsu.” He rubs my shoulder gently. He’s the only person in the world that really gets me.

“I’m not me without you,” I tell him.

“One soul in two bodies,” he replies, squeezing me a little tighter. “I’m serious though, you need to quit that.”

“Aristotle,” I bat him away with the hand holding my cigarette. He’s always getting on my case about smoking. It is a bit taboo here, what with all the breathing trouble kids and the like, but he knows better than anyone the reason I smoke from time to time.

“So, looks like we’ll see some snow soon enough,” Haru says, talking about nothing as he often does when he’s nervous.

“What’s on your mind?” I ask him, cutting through the bullshit to the real reason he’s all sweaty.

He laughs.

“You’ve always been able to do that,” he gives me another squeeze. “Getting to the chase then.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Your dad and my dad will be driving us to the cabin, they said they have big news.”

I shiver. Maybe it’s from the cold. Maybe.

“That sounds ominous,” I finally say. Haru simply nods. “Usually, their big news involves us.”

“Maybe it’s something innocuous, it might not even matter.”

“Who’re you kidding?”

“Yeah, right.” He sadly admits.

There are no strong gusts tonight, the scaffold doesn’t rattle or groan, but I still find myself gripping the railing tightly. Below us the pointed trees shoot upward like pikes, ready to pierce us if we fall.

“Yamaku isn’t so bad. Once upon a time that was big news.” Haru tries to reassure me. He’s sweet like that.

“It’s ok,” I tell him. “I’ll have you.”

“Always.” He tells me.

I think back to last winter break, when my dad and his brother drank themselves into a stupor and danced around the house. When my uncle grabbed me by the wrists, and my parents made me feel guilty for crying out in pain. How I was the one killing the vibe. Or the winter break before, when Haru’s dad and my dad got so drunk they started arguing about whose child was more of a freak. I learned a long time ago that our dads always get what they want, and that we’re nothing more than failing assets to them.

I look back to Haru. His hair flutters gently in the breeze, his deep brown eyes scanning the horizon for a way out of that upcoming car ride. He won’t find one. His touch lingers on me.

Dad has a way of getting what he wants.

The first few snowflakes settle on us, and Haru exhales deeply. “I guess I’m psychic,” he finally says.

“It was snowing earlier, idiot.”

“Then I guess I’m perceptive,” he laughs.

My phone vibrates in my pocket again, but Haru doesn’t react. Not that perceptive, I guess. I untangle myself from him and wrestle it out from my pocket. They don’t make my pockets wide enough for the wrist supports.

The faint green light of the screen burns my eyes in the blistering dark. One new message. “I’ll be up for a little longer, but you have to be out early tomorrow morning, I’m meeting someone for breakfast.” The low light from my phone illuminates my face, and Haru’s eyes lock in on mine with a perceptible look of concern.

With the dim light of his torch and the gentle glow of my phone, we become two lights beneath the canopy of snow. Beyond the haze of clouds above, an infinite number of stars shine on dutifully. I can’t see them, but I know they’re there.

I take another long look at Haru. I need to see him, to know he’s there.

“So that was weird at lunch, right?” Haru asks, without breaking eye contact.

“What was?” I look back at him.

“Molly and Hisao.”

“The curry bread thing?”

Haru laughs. “No, the not knowing about each other’s holiday plans thing. You’d think they would have talked about it.”

I shrug. I think I might know Molly better than Haru. Again, he’s not really that perceptive.

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” I explain. “But I think it’s best we don’t get involved.”

Haru grunts, and hoists himself up, offering me a hand. It shoots through the dismal snow.

“Come on, it’s late and cold.”

I accept the help, even if it’s still relatively early by my standards.

“Besides, you have someone to see, right?”

Ok, maybe he’s more perceptive than I thought.

“I uh –“

“I don’t really want to know, Ritsu.” He sighs. “Especially if it’s with the person I think it is.”

I just stand beside him, and for a moment his torch light shines away from me. Redshift, I think to myself.

After a minute or two of standing together in the silence and the snow, he places his hand up and our palms touch.

“It’ll only end one way; it always does with you.”

“That was different,” I protest.

“Not really,” he sighs again.

The cigarette burns against my fingers, causing me to fling it by reflex into the dark below.

“Are you still angry, Haruhiko?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

“Friends shouldn’t be so judgemental,” I tell him.

“Friends tell each other hard truths,” he repeats himself. “They just don’t hold it against each other.”

I instinctively reach for another cigarette, and Haru grabs my wrist gently.

The snow gets a little heavier, and our lights shine a little dimmer.

_____________________________________________________________________________


The bell signalling the end of class comes as quite the shock. Since the invention of the science club, Mr Mutou is like a new man when he teaches. He has so much more passion for it, or maybe the passion was always there, and I just couldn’t tune in. Now, with Hisao as our president and tutor, it’s like everything has come into focus.

I guess that’s only true for those of us in the science club, as Akio is quick to launch himself out of his seat. I watch him pocket my pen, and effectively fling his books into his school bag. They make a sickening crunch, and he scowls, realising he’s broken something in there. He quickly relaxes and shoots me a smile though.

At the front of the class, Hisao has wandered over to Haru’s desk, and the two are talking about something I can’t make out over the sound of end-of-day chatter. I turn back to my workbook and continue scribbling down my notes.

Misaki taps me on the shoulder with Takashi in tow.

“You want to head into town with us, we’re going to visit the Shanghai one last time before winter break.” Takashi asks.

I keep writing but give them my grateful smile, “Nah, you guys go ahead. I have some things I need to do before winter break.”

“Ominous!” Misaki laughs, and I roll my eyes.

They head out of the classroom, stopping to talk to Hisao and Haru as they do. Molly has also found her way over there. The whole science club, sans me.

Mr Mutou looks up from his desk and gives me a polite nod. For some reason, it makes me a bit sad to know we won’t be having another science club meeting for a while. I wonder if he has a nice holiday planned, but for some reason I just can’t imagine it.

Molly gestures for me to join them, and I gently place my notebook back into my rucksack. Learn from my mastery, Akio.

“These two are trading secrets,” Molly giggles. “I’m going to need help extracting info out of them.”

I hold my hands up and chuckle, “I’m afraid I’m not much of a torturer Molls, but I can probably beat something out of Haru.”

Haru crosses his arms and pouts, mimicking Hisao’s posture.

“I have no secrets.” He exclaims as I grab him by the ear.

“Then I guess I’ll just beat you,” I say, lifting my hand menacingly. Mutou coughs, as if announcing his presence as a responsible safeguarding agent.

“Haru won’t spill his secrets, sir.” Molly explains, and Mutou gives her a sympathetic look.

“Well, you could always beat Mr Nakai,” he suggests with a playful smile.

“Good idea,” she replies, and I let go of Haru’s ear. Not that I was pulling very hard anyway.

I grab Hisao by the ear instead, and he looks over to Mutou for support.

“I’m quitting the science club.” He mutters under his breath, and Mutou lets out a short laugh.

“Ok, ok, I think that’s enough now,” he starts to gather his things into that little brown satchel he carries everywhere. “You lot should probably get going.”

The four of us exit into the hallway, and Hisao gives Molly a kiss on the cheek. How cute.

“Sticking your bruiser on me was a bit mean,” he whispers, loudly.

“Bruiser?” I hold up my hands with their blue splints.

“Sorry! Your…” he trails off as we meander slowly down the hall to the stairs. He gives Haru some pleading eyes.

“On your own man, on your own.”

After a loud and exaggerated sigh from Hisao, the four of us share a laugh.

“Ok, so it wasn’t even a secret anyway, but…” Haru trails off, gesturing for Hisao to continue the explanation.

“Well, you mentioned how you didn’t have any plans for the holiday, and Haru was kind enough to invite us to stay with him and Ritsu at the cabin for a few days.” Hisao beams, but Molly doesn’t reciprocate the smile.

“Spending a romantic holiday together?” Molly asks. It’s hard to read her expression.

Well, spending a romantic holiday with us.

“Well, spending a romantic holiday with us,” Haru laughs. Maybe he really is psychic.

“I thought it might make for some happy memories, to replace the bad ones.” Hisao says proudly. For someone so smart, Hisao can really speak without thinking sometimes.

“Good memories don’t wash out the bad ones, Hisao,” Molly says sternly before taking a deep breath. “But I think it’s really sweet of you to invite us, Haru, Ritsu.” She thinks for a moment then pulls us both into a hug. “I’d love to join you, provided we’re not doing Christmas.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” I explain. And I mean it, I have absolutely no interest in celebrating a romantic holiday with them and Haru.

We keep walking in a comfortable kind of silence. It’s a shame, I was looking forward to spending the holiday away from everyone aside from Haru. Besides, I remember telling him not to get involved, and yet here we are. Our two becomes four; cells divide.

We make it outside into the biting early evening air. Hisao and Molly wrap themselves up in one another, and Haru pulls his jacket tight across his chest.

“Misaki and Takashi have gone to the Shanghai, what say you scientists to a little field trip?” Hisao asks with a laugh.

Everyone else nods, and Haru aims a puzzled look at me.

“I have a thing,” I explain lamely.

“A thing?” Molly asks. She looks into my eyes and has this way of extracting any information she wants.

“A thing.”

“Ok then, just us three.” She relents. But somehow, I feel as if she knows where I’m going.

Haru gives me that same look from the other night, the one that he swears isn’t judgemental.

“Joyous,” he states bleakly as Hisao and Molly grab him by each arm and start heading towards the gate. I wave them off and turn quickly around.

It’s already getting dark, not quite pitch black, but dark enough for the automatic lights along the path to start freaking out and begin turning on and off again, as they struggle to determine night from day. I feel a bit like that, a liminal flickering light.

The grounds have become a bit barren with the arrival of winter. Lots of dead shrubbery, lots of cold and hard ground. Lots of intermingling frozen breaths from the students who jostle back and forth along the paths.

Quite far ahead, I see the thing I need to do slowly walking back to the dorms all alone. I speed up to catch him and he tilts his head at me quizzically.

“Ritsu,” he says, almost in a whisper.

“Lezard,” I whisper back as we acknowledge one another’s existence. I take in the sight of his sharp and powerful face.

We walk in relative silence, only the sounds of our footsteps and the sounds of chatter coming from the students around us. No one pays us any attention, even as I wordlessly follow him towards the boy’s dormitory. I guess we’re both a little unremarkable.

We wordlessly end up in front of his room.

“One more time, before winter break?” He asks, and I answer him with a kiss.

We fall into his room and the door slams behind us, both tearing each other’s clothes off and flinging them around the room.

“You know, I never asked.” He manages between frantic kisses. I grab his hand and guide it to my throat. “Why me?”

“You were there,” I explain, the memory of showing up outside his door in the rain and his wordless acceptance flowing back into me. “You’ve become a physical necessity.”

“I thought you hated me,” he half-asks half-states as he pins me to the wall.

I grab onto his arms. His powerful, firm arms.

“I can’t,” I tell him. “I love you too much to hate you.”

“Dependency,” he whispers. “The feelings of love and hate are closely related. It’s a perverse kind of love,” Lezard explains, dominating me. “But I love you all the same.”

“A physical necessity,” I repeat as our sex becomes increasingly brutal.

“Orwell,” I hear Haru say from somewhere inside of me.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Satisfied?” Haru asks me. The moon hangs low behind him.

“Don’t be gross, Haru.”

He snickers, grabbing onto the railing of the scaffold just as a strong wind makes it rattle. Below, the lights and sounds of the town are all silent. It’s cold tonight.

“So, Takashi and Misaki are also going to be joining us for winter break, just a heads up.”

I sigh. Not that I dislike them, but I was already a bit put out that Molly and Hisao would be joining us. Attempts to brighten the holiday tend to make them a little darker. Still, it’s not my house, so I can’t exactly make a big stink about it.

“It will still just be us for the first couple of days,” he reassures me, “and they’re only staying for like two nights.”

He reaches over and offers me his hand. Our fingers interlink, my wrist support peeking out from beneath my hoodie. Lezard’s hoodie.

“Do you really hate him?” I ask, and it takes a minute for Haru to process my question.

“Lezard? No, not really. He helped us a lot last year, before Hisao.” He takes a deep breath and exhales a plume of frozen air. “But that doesn’t mean I agree with you and him, as an item.”

I reach into my pocket and pluck out a packet of cigarettes. Haru doesn’t say anything.

“Why?” I ask him, but I think I already know the answer.

“Don’t make me say it, Ritsu.” He chuckles sadly. Below us, that piece of tarp that has fluttered around with abandon every night has been pegged down and secured again. For some reason, that makes me feel a little sad.

“You’re not in love with me. Not like that. Not anymore.” I tell him.

He shakes his head, “It doesn’t work that way though, not really.” He explains. “The love I have for you, the love we share, it doesn’t sit neatly in one categorisation. I warned you that this could happen…”

“But I insisted anyway,” I answer his implied accusation. It’s a conversation I’m familiar with. “I don’t regret being one another’s landmarks, each other’s firsts.”

He shakes his head again, “Nor do I. I don’t have any regrets. But if you want me to be happy for you and someone else, I’ll need more time.”

A light from way down in the town flicks on.

“I need you in my corner, Haru.”

“I’ll always be in your corner, but I can’t just turn off one side of me, Ritsu.”

I squeeze his hand, “I know, and I’m sorry.”

I think back to our years in middle school, our awkward first kiss. Our first years at Yamaku, seeing each other in secret. People must have suspected, until the rumour that we were secret siblings spread and killed any dirty rumours that might have persisted. It might have helped kill the attraction as well.

Good friendships don’t always make for good relationships. I’ve learnt that, now. And you can love someone without wanting them, too.

“If you like him that much, why keep it a secret anyway?” Haru asks, plucking at the plastic wrap along the scaffold.

“Maybe it’s part of the thrill,” I explain. “Maybe it’s because everyone is so nasty about him all the time.”

Haru laughs sadly, “he doesn’t exactly help himself, especially with the whole Molly thing. You sure you’re not just a rebound?”

“Maybe I am.” I shrug. “We don’t get to choose the people we fall for.”

Haru lets go of my hand and watches as I light up a cigarette. This time he doesn’t make a snide remark or judge me.

“I’m not sure that’s true,” he counters. “We place ourselves in love’s way. If someone is bad news, we have a choice to avoid them. Too many people pretend that there’s some grand plan or some destiny that makes us fall for that special person, but there isn’t. We choose the people we fall in love with, and propinquity makes it so.”

“That’s sad, Haru. And a bit boring.”

Haru looks out towards the low light of the town, “That’s life. Boring and sad, with some things in between.”

I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, the soft green light still manging to sting my eyes.

I thumb out a text to Lezard.

“I want to be with you.” I text him.

It’s unrealistic to expect him to reply instantly. He might even be asleep, although I have been messing with his schedule quite dramatically since we started hooking up. Still, I can’t help but feel a little disappointed that he doesn’t immediately reply.

“Ritsu?” Haru asks, his hands hanging limply by his side and his legs dangling off the scaffold.

“Haru.”

“What if I always feel this way?”

“What way, Haru?”

“Trapped,” he replies.

I watch the embers pulsate on the end of my cigarette. It’s funny, but I never noticed how much they resemble a heartbeat, slowly moving closer and closer toward my fingertips.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Lezard.

“I’m all in if you are.”

Haru looks to me for a response to his question.

But I don’t have any response to give.

_____________________________________________________________________________

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Last edited by Feurox on Fri Sep 29, 2023 3:36 am, edited 4 times in total.
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Feurox
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Trapped all the Same - P2

Post by Feurox »

It isn't possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.
E.M Forster, A Room with a View
“Are you listening to me, Ritsu?” My father asks.

Out of the window and in the far distance, I watch wind turbines. They stand still, and then disappear behind the hills.

“Haruhiko, give Ritsu a nudge would you.” My father asks him.

I turn to see Haru doing exactly as I am, staring absently out the window as the scenery rolls past. It’s fairly obvious that he’s copying my coping mechanism.

Dad lets out a long and angry sigh and pulls out a cigar from his pocket in a single fluid motion.

“You’re being spoken to, boy.” Haru’s father says sternly, with that threatening tone he does so well. “You’ll do well to learn some respect.”

“Our children,” my dad continues. “Ungrateful.”

“Why the hell would we thank you for this?” Haru explodes, the green hills turning into blue sky behind him. “I’m not even convinced it’s legal.”

The stench of dad’s cigar begins to fill the car.

Haru’s father glares at him in the rear-view mirror. If not for the fact that we’re driving to the lake house, I think things would get violent. I’ve never seen Haru this angry, nor my dad so firm.

“You need to wise up Haruhiko. You haven’t the slightest clue about the law, and you are my son. You will do as you are told.”

I meet my dad’s gaze in the rear-view. He’s looking older now, but he still has a sharp and powerful face. Haru used to fear him and so did I. Still do.

He doesn’t have the same fierce stare as Haru’s father however, and instead looks mildly sympathetic. I am his daughter, after all.

“Like cattle,” I whisper, our eyes meeting and our wills crashing into one another.

“One day, when you have a family of your own, and you’re running the business, you’ll realise how important this was.” My dad chimes in with a slightly softer tone. “We make tough decisions for the ones we love, even if they resent us for it.”

I reach over to Haru and offer him my hand. He doesn’t accept it.

“See Haruhiko, Ritsu understands the necessity of this.”

I scoff.

“I just know when my hands are tied,” I reply, trying to keep the animosity out of my voice, not letting them see they’re killing me is a little victory.

Blue meets blue as the sky behind Haru becomes the first of the lakes, a flock of birds flitter out into the distance.

Dad sighs loudly because he wants us to hear him. He turns back to face us head on.

“I need to hear you say you understand.” He says with the sternness and ferocity back in his eyes and voice. Haru visibly tenses, like a cat hearing thunder.

I feel as though I am a coiled spring, held between the fingers of forces beyond my comprehension. An inconceivable and infinitesimally small actor on a cosmic stage.

I swallow, “Haru and I are to marry.”

Haru’s dad coughs.

“Ritsu and I are to marry.” He repeats.

“Good,” our fathers say in unison. They don’t look happy about it. It’s probably the same way that prison guards look when they tell a prisoner it’s time for their execution. At least prison guards aren’t responsible for it.

“Your mothers will be organising things for the most part, but you should keep it between you for now.” My dad explains, tapping something into his phone. Presumably to mom, about how we’re being obedient little dogs.

I turn to watch Haru, who has returned to the window-watching he stole from me. He still refuses to hold my hand, but given the circumstances, it’s understandable. He’s taking the news harder than me.

I think back to the first time we kissed, how we promised we’d be each other’s firsts, and how the night we took each other’s virginities we promised to be in each other’s lives forever, no matter what.

It occurs to me that we’re getting that promise fulfilled, in a sick sort of way. Maybe that’s irony, but I was never very good at language studies. From the grip Haru has on the door handle, I think he regrets making that wish in the first place.

If we had never crossed that line. If Haru hadn’t fallen in love with me romantically, and I had never pushed him to try dating, this might be less of a bitter pill to swallow. It’s easier for two people who don’t love each other to marry than it is for one sided lovers.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he hates me a little bit right now. But he doesn’t need to.

I hate myself enough for the both of us.

I see tears form in his eyes from his hollow reflection in the window. Perhaps it’s from the cigar smoke, he always hated that.

Haru’s dad starts explaining a few technical details, about how our marriage will be integral to keeping the business together, about how my dad needed a male heir for the company, how our new blood ties will allow for whatever and whatever. I stop listening, obviously. I remain fixated on Haru’s perfectly still face in the reflection. I keep hearing them talk about the future. His face is soft, and welcoming. A perfect contrast to dads. To Lezards.

Ahead, I recognise the obnoxiously large shape of the lake house. Haru doesn’t take his eyes off the water.

“This will be good for you both. Some time to process things, and to get used to living together.” My dad explains, all the ferocity and violence gone from his voice now. He talks to us like we’re small children.

I think back to playing husband and wife with Haru. How we’d play at the Lake House. The memory doesn’t bring me warmth anymore.

The car pulls up solemnly into the driveway, and dad hands the keys to us. Haru doesn’t snatch them, just calmly takes them from him without a word. They tell us various instructions, and Haru just nods along wordlessly; almost lifelessly.

Apparently, the fridge is fully stocked, and there’s spending money in our accounts if we want to order in. I don’t bother telling them about the others that are joining us, but from the perceptibly softer tone that dad addresses me in, they know we need to be alone for a while to take everything in. Dad gets out of the car and wraps his arms around me, his powerful, firm arms. I don’t return the hug.

“This is for the best for everyone, Ritsu.” He tells me. “Help him to understand.”

I shake my head against his chest. Dad takes that as acceptance and releases me.

“We’ll see you when we pick you up. Enjoy the place and be responsible. This will be yours soon, so don’t burn the place down.” he tries to joke, before clambering back into the car and taking off again.

We stand in the cold bright winter sun for a few moments. Neither of us say anything, but Haru picks up his bag and heads towards the door.

His hands fiddle with the key, as if fiddling nervously with a condom. It’s a familiar sight, but it isn’t nerves on Haru’s mind. It’s anger.

Finally getting the key right, he pushes the door open and barges straight into the kitchen. This isn’t my first time at the Lake House, but I can’t help but take in the majesty. There’s a massive window to the balcony that overlooks the lake, and a fireplace about three times bigger than it needs to be. Our dads must have paid someone to decorate it for us, as there are Christmas themed decorations sparsely hung up around the banisters and on the walls. I would have considered this a nice gesture, but since it’s a romantic holiday I can’t help but feel that it’s some kind of not-so-subtle manipulation on their part.

I follow Haru into the kitchen and drop my backpack onto the dining room table. He’s frantically searching the cupboards.

“Ah.” He reaches into the liquor cupboard and pulls out a large bottle with a deep amber liquid sloshing around inside of it. Another familiar sight.

He places two glasses on the table and pulls out a chair. Wordlessly, he pours himself a glass and offers me the same. I shake my head.

“Suit yourself,” he says, his face almost devoid of any expression. He knocks back the glass, and his face shrivels up in what looks to be disgust. Still, he pours another glass.

“Now who’s exactly like their father?” I ask, an attempt at levity in an increasingly dire situation.

“You can drink with me, or you can sit there and judge me, but I don’t want to talk right now, Ritsu.” He states bluntly, his hand shaking a little.

I reach into my bag and pluck out my pack of cigarettes.

He doesn’t raise an eyebrow, but instead gestures for me to give him one.

We smoke, and he drinks. We stew in our own quiet self-destruction.

The clouds dance upon the lake out of the window.

We measure our shadows as they move along the wall. Two shadows of their fathers.

_____________________________________________________________________________

My head kills.

I roll over to my side, only to be greeted by Haru’s horrible sleep face. He lets out a loud snore. We’re both barely clothed, aside from the fact that I’m wearing Haru’s shirt and some underwear. I poke him in the cheek, but he doesn’t rise.

I lift the sheet just to double check, and I’m thankful to notice he’s still wearing his boxers.

The bedroom stinks of alcohol and cigarette smoke. On the bedside table my pack of cigarettes has been crumpled. I reach for them and find it empty. Figures. The whisky bottle on the small coffee table hasn’t fared too well either; it’s only got a third or so left.

We didn’t really unpack so much as explode. Our clothes hang limply over chairs and lie deflated on the floor like a hunter’s rug. Haru lets out a loud groan as I swing out from the bed, slowly, so as not to give ammunition to the guns firing inside my head. I reach for the water I placed beside the bed and thank my past self for her foresight.

It’s been three days since we arrived at the lake house, and Haru and I haven’t really spoken about the marriage. Instead, we’ve spent three nights drinking and smoking, and two days ignoring the radioactive elephant in the centre of the room. I did manage to do some light reading, and I went for a run. Haru didn’t want to join me.

I’ve tried to broach the subject with him a few times, but he shuts it down almost immediately. Like one of those massive birds that stick their heads in the sand. Ostriches, I think they’re called.

Haru and I have always been bound up in one another, ever since we were born. I turn back to the bed and look at him lying there, his shirt open and his hair sprawled all over his face. Bound up, and bound together, I think.

Last night was the closest we’ve come to sleeping together again since last year. We’re both afraid, and both hurting, but as my hands found his chest I could only picture Lezard, and that was that. Mostly that.

Life is complicated, I think, but I’m only really lying to myself.

Life isn’t that complicated. Nor are people. I love Haru, and I could even love him romantically, but I could never be attracted to him. I know that, and I know Haru knows that too. It’s simple, really. Drinking made him provisionally more attractive, but that’s unsustainable.

Maybe I don’t even love Lezard. I think I do, but not in the certain way that I love Haru. But Haru doesn’t excite me. Love should be exciting.

“Pain both ways and what is worse,” I whisper to myself. Aeschlyus, comes my own silent reply.

Haru makes another groan, like a wounded animal that’s just been brought down by the hunt. He sits up in the bed and reaches for the water on the bedside, his eyes still closed.

I pass my own bottle to him, and he takes it with a grateful grunt.

“Misaki and Takashi arrive today,” I explain, rubbing my eyes and trying my best to forget the feeling of Haru’s hands on my hips, and the aching pain it raises from within me.

“We should tidy up,” he answers me. “I’ll make the bed.”

“I’ll start making us some breakfast,” I reply, and slither out into the hallway and down the stairs towards the kitchen. There are photos of Haru’s family, and photos of our families together adoring the walls.

The kitchen is a bit of a mess as well, with empty beer bottles and an empty bottle of wine decorating the table. My makeshift ashtray is practically overflowing, and Haru has left his whisky tumbler on the side without rinsing it out.

I start clearing things away, pots that we somehow washed before our drinking and utensils that still need to be washed. The sun breaks through the window shutter like needles digging straight into my brain.

With another glass of water or five in me, I start frying some eggs for our breakfast. I yank the apron that’s been left for us and become the perfect picture of domesticity.

“Breakfast from my loving wife,” Haru says, leaning against the doorframe in a pair of loose fitting tracksuit bottoms.

“Put a shirt on,” I tell him.

“Put pants on.” He replies.

Touché.

“Aren’t we the picture of a happy marriage,” I joke. And for the first time since we got here, I see Haru smile. It’s a terribly sad kind of smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“I’ve come downstairs to worse,” he trails off. “Did we hook up last night?”

“Not really,” I tell him. I can’t tell if he’s happy or upset to hear that.

Haru heads over to the coffee machine and starts fiddling. The lake house is equipped with one of those fancy barista machines, but I don’t know how to use it so always find a way to leave it to him.

“So, are you ready to talk about it?” I ask, “or are we only at the joking stage.”

I flip the eggs in the pan.

“A little from column a, and a little from column b.”

I check my watch. We have about four hours before Misakai and Takashi arrive.

“Let’s start with the obvious.” I begin. “Is there anything we can do to get out of it?”

Haru sighs and places the first of the coffees on the table behind me, before priming the machine for a second.

“I doubt it. They wouldn’t have told us until it was already in motion, hence the car ride. Plus, even if we did contest things, it’d only mess with our futures. One or both of us would end up disowned and cut off from the family. We could do a Romeo and Juliet inspired suicide to spite them –“

“Don’t say stupid shit,” I interrupt him sternly.

“Sorry, dumb joke.” He yields.

I fish the eggs out of the pan and onto a large plate.

“Just eggs? No rice or anything?” Haru asks.

“Look, I’m still getting a hang of this housewife thing.”

He laughs again and places the second coffee on the table before opening the pantry and grabbing a loaf of bread. Eggs and bread. That should cure a hangover, right?

“Ok, next question then.” I take a sip of my coffee. “What do we tell people?”

“You mean what do you tell Lezard?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and taking a bite out of a piece of bread. The dude doesn’t even butter it. No wonder drunk me didn’t fuck him.

“Lezard is an important consideration, but it’s not my only priority.”

“God you sound just like your father,” Haru says with a perceptible trace of venom in his voice.

I stare him down across the table.

“Sorry.”

I sigh and drag my hand down my face.

“It’s a difficult situation,” I concede. “Maybe we shouldn’t say anything to anyone.”

“At least until after high school?” Haru drops his own head into his hands, before lifting it and reaching for the eggs. “Even Lezard?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I don’t know if we can have a relationship knowing the truth, or if I can be with him living a lie.”

We sit in the awkward silence of that realisation for a moment. Each picking at our food, scantily clad and as exposed emotionally two people can be.

“We’re both trapped,” Haru admits quietly. “One in love and another out. But we’re trapped all the same.”

“At least we’ll be trapped together.”

Haru chuckles bitterly.

I reach for my phone.

“I miss you.” Lezard has texted.

I take another sip of my coffee.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“The Science Club twins!” Misaki exclaims excitedly as she runs from the taxi towards us.

Takashi waves, but keeps talking to the driver, presumably he’s trying to sort out the payment.

“Misa,” Haru smiles and pulls her into a hug. “Takashi told you to call us that, didn’t he?”

She goes a bit red in the face and giggles. “He did, I’ve never actually heard anyone call you that.”

I’m still curious as to what it is people call us, but I shake the thought and pull Misaki into a hug of my own. It feels good to feel someone in my arms that isn’t Haru.

It only took us an hour or so to tidy up ahead of their arrival, but the house still smells a little of cigarette smoke and alcohol. Since the house only has three bedrooms, we’ve set Misaki up in the guest bedroom, prepped one for Hisao and Molly’s arrival tomorrow, and put Takashi on the couch. Sharing a room with Haru shouldn’t raise any eyebrows amongst our friends, but I made sure to make up the bedsit in the room anyway, in case people go snooping.

Haru heads over to the car and offers Takashi a hand with the bags. It seems that they’ve packed way more than Haru and I did, but we did already have a few winter clothes left here from our last trip, and I often steal Haru’s clothes anyway.

“How was the trip up here?” Haru asks Takashi whilst grabbing his rucksack for him.

“Uneventful,” he answers as we pass the doorway into the house as a merry four and the taxi takes off from the driveway. “Well, I did learn that Misaki is terrible at I-spy, which is incredible, because I didn’t think you could actually be bad at I-spy.”

I laugh and Misaki pouts. I take her coat from her and hang it up in the hall.

“Wow.”

“Now that’s a view,” Takashi announces, stepping forward towards the large window that overlooks the balcony and the lake. “You guys are so lucky.”

Outside the window, pinkish clouds settle in the sky as the early evening sun begins to set. The lake looks back up at us with a pink hue.

“That’s us,” Haru admits a little bitterly. “Lucky.”

Misaki raises an eyebrow at me, and Takashi just continues to stare, mesmerised out across the lake. I shrug in Misaki’s direction.

“So, we’ve put you up in the bedroom opposite ours,” I tell her. “Sorry Takashi, but it’s the couch for you these next few days.”

He laughs, “I’m just happy to have been invited! Thanks again you two.”

Misaki shares his beaming smile and drops her rucksack by the sofas.

“So, give us a tour then!”

We show them around the house, with Haru and I taking turns explaining the few house rules we were told to obey. I show them what cupboard has what, in case they get hungry when we’re asleep, and the trick to getting the shower pressure just right. Before long, the four of us are sitting cross-legged on the floor before the vista balcony, basking in the warmth of the fire and playing card games.

“I didn’t think we were celebrating Christmas here, wasn’t that the whole point?” Takashi asks, pointing to a bit of tinsel on the shelf beside him.

Thanks dad. Dads.

“The housekeeping team did it, and we didn’t have the heart to take it down.” Haru explains.

“Nor the energy.” I add.

Takashi nods, satisfied with the explanation.

“Do you have any kings?” Misaki asks me, a narrow focus in her eyes.

“Go fish.”

“Damn,” she laughs. Takashi smiles at her sympathetically, or maybe it’s one of those ‘I love you smiles.’ I guess I can’t tell the difference anymore.

“What do you guys say to us spicing things up a bit?” Haru asks, a devious smile on his lips but something lurking behind them. I have a feeling I know where this is going.

Misaki and Takashi look up with interest as Haru springs to his feet and disappears into the kitchen. I grab the cards from where Haru was sitting and extend my hand to collect the others. We hear Haru rustling around in there, with glasses clinking together.

“You’re not wearing your casts?” Misaki asks me, apparently only just noticing their absence.

“I haven’t had a flare up since we got here, oddly enough.”

“Why odd?” Takashi asks. I need to be careful, as information is like ammo, and I keep dropping all of mine.

“No reason.”

They both look at me confused, but thankfully Haru returns with a tray lined with a few bottles of various colours and glasses for us to use.

“Alcohol?” Misaki asks nervously.

“Of every variety,” Haru answers with a little laugh. “Why not? It’s our holiday after all.”

He places the tray of drinks down gently on the coffee table and they chatter together like the teeth of some anxious predator. Takashi rubs his hands together excitedly and grabs himself a beer, and Haru helps himself to the whisky, before pouring me a glass of red wine.

“I don’t know, I’ve never drank before…” Misaki admits cautiously.

“Just one or two won’t hurt,” Haru replies. “Just to see if you like it.”

She still looks a bit nervous but nods her head in agreement. “What do you suggest?” she asks me.

“Wine, I guess, or maybe like a vodka and coke.” How are you meant to suggest drinks for someone else?

Haru pours her a glass of red wine and hands it to her.

“Here's to alcohol, the rose-coloured glasses of life.” I announce, toasting the air.

“Fitzgerald,” Haru answers.

“Why do you two do that?” Takashi asks. “It’s impressive, but a little weird.”

Haru looks to me.

“It was a game we came up with as kids. Our parents used to make us read a lot of literature, philosophy, and politics. Lots of western stuff. Coupled with our English lessons, life was hell in middle school. We came up with a game to make learning it easier.”

“Games of quotation,” Haru continues. “Our parents put a lot of pressure on us, they’ve always been like that. Controlling, imposing…” he trails off.

“My parents aren’t like that at all,” Misaki adds. “Well, they are with my brother. He’s meant to take over dad’s restaurant, but they don’t really bother with me. They love me, but sometimes it’s like they don’t think I’m capable of anything.” She takes a sip of her wine and clearly finds the taste… interesting, as her face scrunches up.

We sit in solemn silence for a few moments before Takashi throws the cards back down into the centre of our circle.

“Come on, I thought we were going to play games, not mope around.”

“I can think of a few drinking games,” Haru scratches his chin in mock thought. We’ve seen enough of those during family holidays to know the rules.

After several games of ‘drunk fish’ and ‘bus driver’, a game that Haru swears he didn’t come up with on the spot, we break for some take-out, before playing a film on the DVD player.

Takashi and Misaki prove to be lightweights, unsurprisingly. I don’t feel nearly as drunk as they are, but I’ve had a little bit more practice. They lean into each other, and Takashi wraps his arm around her; she doesn’t remove it.

Haru wraps his arm around me in symmetry. I reach up and hold his hand. He squeezes it, firmly. Like someone who’s terrified to let go.

“I wonder what Akio and Lezard are doing for the break,” Ikuno ponders, maybe more to herself than to us.

“I think Akio said he was going somewhere with his friends, presumably Lezard is joining them.” Takashi laughs loudly. “Though it’s quite hard to picture Lezard with friends.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but don’t talk about Lezard like that.” Haru interjects.

I turn to look at him, his whisky tumbler in his hand, and though no-one else can see it, he wants to cry. Behind him the fire gently burns. Hell is a place on earth, after all.

“Sorry,” Takashi raises his hands in surrender.

Misaki looks confused.

Another awkward silence descends. Misaki looks up thoughtfully into Takashi’s eyes. Haru runs his hand through the back of my hair, and I shiver. I look out again across to the lake. The silent dancing of the clouds, and the almost still darkness of it all. It makes me miss the shallow lights and sounds of the town below Yamaku, but it’s still pretty.

A pretty prison to rot in, I think.

Inside of me, the feeling of Lezard stirs. I want to be with him.

A look I recognise from deep within me, an intermingling of lust and desire, and desperation, flashes behind Misaki’s eyes as she stares deeply into Takashi’s. A mistake she’s considering making.

I look over at the now nearly empty bottle of wine, and the fresh bottle of whisky Haru has produced. The devil lives in all of us and stirs at its siren song. But that’s just an excuse. An excuse we tell ourselves when we reveal who we really are.

Our contagion spreads.

_____________________________________________________________________________

I run my hand along the banister as I descend the stairs slowly, trying to minimise any noise in case I wake Takashi. I round the corner but don’t see him. His blanket and pillow are still folded from when I placed them there yesterday. Curious, but unsurprising, given the look in Misaki’s eyes yesterday and Takashi’s general obsession over her.

I pass through to the kitchen and fumble around with the coffee machine in vain. Only Haru can operate this thing, and I don’t have the time to get the PhD required to figure it out. I open the fridge and pull out one of the horribly unhealthy energy drinks I stashed in there when we arrived. Sober me is a godsend I swear.

In Haru’s hoodie and some tracksuit pants, I open the glass sliding door onto the balcony and flop down into one of the chairs overlooking the lake. The rising sun helps to alleviate the chill just a little, but there’s a sharp winter breeze that chills me right down to the bone. I shuffle around in my pockets for my cigarettes and phone, producing both and pulling out a smoke with my teeth.

I light up and watch as a flock of birds skim the surface of the lake. I see myself in the reflection on the water, the small glow of my cigarette a shimmering orange contrast against the dark waters. It’s picturesque, but all I can think about is my spot back at Yamaku, and the ghost I’ve left behind.

If I close my eyes I can see her, looking down on the glimmering lights of the town. Well, all that glisters isn’t gold. Who knows if the scaffolding will even still be there when I return. Who knows if my ghost will.

Behind me, in the living room, Haru appears with a cup of coffee and terrible bedhead. He waves at me, and I nod back in his direction as he goes about tidying away the detritus from last night ahead of Hisao and Molly’s arrival today. We probably both look a bit dead if the bags under my eyes match his. I suspect that’s some kind of poetic justice.

It’s a little disconcerting how quickly we fell into a routine of quiet resentment since we arrived. Maybe not of each other, but of our situation. Other than the short chat yesterday before Takashi and Misaki arrived, we’ve hardly spoken, even when we fall asleep in each other’s arms. It’s like we’re already married. Maybe this is what all marriages are like anyway, even the ones that start by falling in love. Just two people who have become so familiar with one another that they end up bonded.

Ionic, I think.

Two people orbiting one another, their steps moving in sync.

I guess that’s what marriage is. When all the excitement and energy has gone, the reaction goes cold, and you’re left with only that safe and comfortable bond. Maybe that’s what Dad wanted me to realise. It doesn’t make any of it fair, and it doesn’t make any of it easy. But I understand.

That’s the crucial component that’s missing. Choice. I look down into my ghostly reflection and wonder if I ever had it. Was my whole life just a preamble to some plan. Some moves made in the dark. Some grand fate that we can never escape. No one alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward, I tell you - it’s born with us the day that we are born.

Homer, I think.

“Games of quotation,” I whisper to myself and take another long drag.

I thought the night was my time, but I guess I was wrong. Maybe I never had any time to myself, I was just borrowing it from my future. Everything has become flipped.

Behind me, the glass door opens. Misaki is wrapped up in her winter coat, and she looks visibly smaller than I’ve ever seen her. Haru must have given her a coffee because she clutches it like a rosary.

“Morning Misa,” I say cautiously. She looks as if she might shatter at the slightest provocation.

“Morning Ritsu, can I join you?” She asks, already sitting beside me.

I gesture to the chair and take another drag.

We sit together in silence, watching ghosts trapped within the water’s edge. Above us, the clouds begin to darken and grey with heavy snow stored inside them. Pathetic fallacy.

“It’ll snow soon,” I say to nobody.

“Huh?” She asks, her eyes fixed on the water below.

“I said it’ll snow soon.”

She looks up for a moment.

“Yeah, probably.”

I watch the whips of steam emanate from her coffee cup up towards the sky.

Behind me, Haru and Takashi sit on the couches with a coffee each. I’m not sure when Takashi came downstairs, but he has an accomplished look on his face. I look over at Misaki who looks utterly hollow. Ouch.

“Why do you smoke, Ritsu?” she asks without looking at me.

I raise an eyebrow at her. “I guess I have trouble shaking bad habits,” I tell her. “Why did you sleep with Takashi?”

She winces and runs her hands down her face.

“Because I’m an idiot. Because I was a drunk and horny idiot and now, I’ve really screwed things up,” she admits sadly.

I shake my head at her.

“Not really. Sex doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Misaki takes a slow sip of her coffee, her hands trembling a little and the brown coffee sludging around in the mug.

“You know as well as I do that Takashi has a crush on me. I don’t know how I can be such a cruel bitch to him.”

“Do you love him?” I ask.

“Romantically?” She looks at me with wide doe eyes.

I nod.

“I don’t know.”

I swing my legs to face her and grasp her hands, the cigarette burning down to the knuckle on my hand.

“Convince yourself of what you want,” I tell her. “Convince yourself you either love him or you don’t. And you can make it so. Propinquity makes it so.” I repeat.

“Does that really work?” She asks.

“Every time,” I lie, maybe more to myself than to her.

“What if I don’t want to love him?” She asks.

I look inside at Haru and Takashi.

“It’s hard, but you can go back to just friends.” I tell her.

“How do you know?”


I keep my eyes locked on the inside of the house where Takashi and Haru are drinking their coffee and laughing happily. Haru glances over at me.

“You can go back.” I tell her again. But I’m lying.

A sound of realisation comes from Misaki, but she doesn’t say anything else.

Haru’s eyes stay fixed on me the entire time.

_____________________________________________________________________________

I take a long, deep, bow.

“Our fearless leader arrives,” Haru declares, blowing an invisible trumpet like this is some royal affair.

Hisao leans into the pageantry, taking a deep bow and flourishing with his arms.

“Thank you, thank you, you’re too kind.”

Takashi grunts and reaches for his bag. I offer Molly a hug, which she accepts with a grateful smile.

“I missed you,” I tell her, and she giggles.

“It’s only been like five days.”

“I still missed you,” I say, offering to take her rucksack.

She gratefully passes it to me, “I missed you too,” she admits, ruffling my hair like a child.

I hate to admit it, but it makes me feel safe. We hobble inside, a dysfunctional family of six, with Misaki and Molly hugging and laughing about some inside joke they have.

Haru and Hisao share a long bro hug, I guess they missed each other as well. Takashi stands limply behind them, which makes me feel a touch sorry for him.

Molly scans the lake house, paying obvious and concerned attention to the Christmas decorations. Her nose scrunches up as the stale smell of alcohol hits her. She looks at me, and our eyes lock for a moment, maybe in recognition, and she places a hand on my shoulder.

“I thought we were avoiding the whole Christmas thing,” she whispers. Hisao and the others head through to the massive window, enthralled.

“We still are, but the cleaners put up decorations. It’s a complicated story.” I tell her.

She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press me further on it. She’s on edge, I can tell.

And I know that she can tell I am too.

Lies and half-truths; moves and countermoves. That’s the politics of a married family, I think.

“Do we have a plan for today?” she asks. From the living room, I hear Hisao and Haru engage in a friendly debate about who makes the better coffee as they head to the machine. It’s Haru, by the way. Hisao should stay in his hot chocolatey lane.

“We’ve mostly played card games and chatted. I’m going a bit stir crazy, so we could go on a hike. If you can manage that.” I gesture to her legs, or lack thereof.

“Provided it’s not too steep, or too long,” she replies. “We could have asked Hisao’s dad to drop us into town, since he already dropped us off here.”

“There’s six of us Molls. Seven, with Hisao’s Dad. We wouldn’t all fit in the car.”

“The trunk,” she quips, pointing to the side of her head as if to say use your brain, Ritsu.

“Right, the trunk.” I repeat as we hobble into the house.

The routine tour commences. Their bedroom. The shower. The shower pressure. The balcony and yes, it is majestic. Yes, we are indeed very lucky. No, I’m not happy, I’m miserable.

I don’t say that last bit.

Hisao and Molly drop their bags in the room we set up for them, and Hisao makes a joke about it being bigger than his room at home. Molly rolls her eyes. I’m not sure Hisao has spent much time around the mega rich, but most kids at Yamaku come from privilege, despite their unfortunate circumstances. Oh, to be so unfortunately lucky.

In the living room, Takashi fiddles with his boots, trying desperately to lace them up with one hand while he texts with the other. He relents, dropping the phone and focusing his attention on one job.

“Never half-ass two things, Takashi.” Haru says with a gentle chuckle. “Always full-ass one thing.”

“Thanks, dad.” Takashi quips. He has a more confident smile than usual, so I guess Misaki hasn’t broken the news to him that their little hook-up was a mistake.

“Anytime son,” Haru replies, ruffling his hair the same way Molly ruffled mine. I think he’d be a good father, really. The thought makes me blush.

“So, is this a tough trail you’re taking us on?” Misaki asks. Who she asks is unclear, but Haru looks at me to answer.

“Not overly, it’s one we used to go on with our family. A circuit around the lake. There was a coffee shop last time, but I don’t know if it will still be there.”

“Hard times?” She asks.

“Dickens,” Haru and I say in unison.

“What?”

“Nothing, just our little game.”

She springs to her feet with her boots on. Meanwhile, Takashi is still struggling.

I walk over to the window while everyone gets ready. My phone vibrates in my pocket. Haru’s pocket. Lezard’s message.

“I wish I could see you.” He texts.

I place my hand against the pane of glass that separates me from the balcony. The pale reflection of me matches up, fingertip to fingertip, palm to palm.

“Close your eyes and see me.” I thumb back the reply.

He replies almost instantly.

“Every night you fly in through my window like a shooting star. You tear up my room, and I wake to find you missing from beside me.”

The grey clouds above me threaten but refuse to snow. I thumb back another reply.

“But if you close your eyes, that point of light stays with you, just barely for a few moments.”

“Murakami.” Comes the reply.

“Games of quotation,” I whisper.

The pale reflection shudders against me.

_____________________________________________________________________________

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Last edited by Feurox on Wed Sep 27, 2023 8:55 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Feurox
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Location: England, Oxfordshire

Trapped all the Same - P3

Post by Feurox »

I keep thinking about this river somewhere, with the water moving really fast. And these two people in the water, trying to hold onto each other, holding on as hard as they can, but in the end it’s just too much. The current’s too strong. They’ve got to let go, drift apart.
Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go
“How much further, Haru?” Hisao asks, placing his hand on my shoulder for support. The dude is really out of shape, even given his condition.

Molly, meanwhile, doesn’t seem to be struggling at all. She swims a lot, so her cardio is probably better than the rest of us combined. And thanks to the lake, the trail is flat, so her prosthetics don’t give her much trouble.

Above a canopy of trees sway violently as the wind picks up and then dies down over and over. It’s cold, and Misaki nestles into my arms for warmth.

“We’re nearly at the coffee shop that marks halfway,” I tell Hisao, and whisper a little quieter so as to not embarrass him. “Do you want us to stop for a sec?”

Molly looks over to him with concern, but Hisao raises his hand to say he’s fine.

“Just not used to so much walking,” he huffs.

Takashi chuckles, “You’re used to another kind of cardio.” He says.

Haru shares his dirty smile.

“Gross,” Molly rolls her eyes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Hisao answers with a playful wink.

“Gross!” Molly exclaims again, gently whacking Hisao on the back of the head.

“Look what you caused Takashi,” Hisao laughs.

“You can’t blame me for that, how was I supposed to know Molly was a violent lunatic?”

Molly reaches over to smack Takashi as well, and he cowers from her, causing an eruption of laughter.

“You’re a wimpy little man, Takashi.” I tell him.

“Thanks, Ritsu,” he replies, scooping up a handful of icy, mushy snow to hurl at me.

Just as he lets the snowball loose, Haru steps in front of me. It hits him with a dull thud.

“The fucking Dioscuri,” Takashi laughs.

“What?” Hisao asks, a smile on his lips from Takashi’s pathetic snowball.

“The Dioscuri…? Castor and Pollux?” Everyone stops in the path and looks at him, confused. “The twins… They shared their immortality and became the stars because they couldn’t be without each other.”

What?

“Takashi what the actual fuck are you talking about?” Haru asks.

“They’re twins!” He exclaims.

“No, we get that they’re twins,” Molly explains. “But what does that have to do with Haru and Ritsu?”

Takashi drags his hands down his face.

“One of them is born immortal and the other is born mortal. But they couldn’t bear to be without one another, so they share their immortality and become the Gemini constellation. That’s Haru and Ritsu. Two people, fated and cursed to be together forever.” He explains.

I turn to see Hisao preparing a snowball of his own.

“I’ve never heard of them before, Takashi, but I have to imagine you’re butchering that story.” Molly laughs.

“That’s what people call Haru and Ritsu!” He gets a little flustered.

Really?

“I’ve never heard anyone call them that,” she replies.

Takashi crosses his arms and mock sulks.

“Nor have I,” Misaki adds. She’s wrapped up in my arms like a child.

“Ok, well that’s what Suzu calls them. Suzu and Lelouch. I thought it was a cool nickname.” He explains himself.

I look up into the sky, but there aren’t any stars. Just grey swirling over and around.

“The book club nerds?” Molly laughs. “Of course, they would call them that, and of course you would think it’s cool.”

Takashi opens his mouth to rebuttal but takes a snowball to the face courtesy of Hisao. The snow and slush drips from his face the same way it does in cartoons, and Takashi chuckles.

“Should have seen that coming,” he spits out a chunk of snow.

“Careful Takashi, some of that looked a bit yellow.” Haru states blankly.

You could frame and sell the look of total betrayal on Takashi’s face.

The six of us continue down the trail, with Takashi being the butt of most jokes but taking it all in good stride. For a moment, it’s like nothing has changed over the last few days, like it was all a bad dream.

We finally make it to the coffee shop, and surprisingly it’s open. They’re obviously as surprised as we are, as there’s nobody behind the counter when we arrive. Hisao rings the little bell they have out, and a jittery waiter comes out, looking completely unprepared for one customer let alone six. He reminds me a little of the waitress back at the Shanghai, the small café nestled in that sleep town below Yamaku.

With coffees, hot chocolates, and one mint tea ordered, we settle into a booth by the window. I pull my phone from my pocket and tune out of the mindless conversation.

“It’s snowing here.” Lezard has texted, thirty minutes ago.

“No snow here yet, lots of grey clouds.” I reply.

Hisao taps me on the shoulder from in front of me.

“Someone special?” He teases.

I offer him a smirk.

“Yeah, it is.”

Misaki and Takashi open their eyes wide in excitement, and lean onto the table to listen in.

“Someone we know?” Hisao asks, this time with no undercurrent of teasing.

I look back at the gentle glow of my phone.

“I hope it snows there. Then it’s like you’re not so far away. You know?” Lezard texts.

I smile.

“It’s a friend,” I tell the eager listening ears. “Nothing scandalous.”

“Boo,” Misaki exclaims, nearly spilling her hot chocolate as she plunges back into the cushions.

Molly looks at me and raises an eyebrow. Haru looks at me and narrows his eyes. Two people who see right through me.

Hisao coughs into his closed fist, drawing the attention of everyone back to him.

“Ok, so I know it’s a little early, but I think now’s a good a time as any.”

We all look at him, bemused.

“When I arrived at Yamaku not that long ago, I was adrift. I had nothing to orbit, nothing to ground me.” He begins, taking a sip of his coffee.

Haru holds my hand beneath the table.

“And I think you knew I was adrift,” Hisao continues, looking at me. “You knew I was underwater, and you pulled me up to the surface. You both pulled me up and showed me that even after everything I was still me. That maybe I had an opportunity to become someone new.”

He nods to Haru, who returns his smile whilst running his fingers over my own.

“You introduced me to these loveable misfits,” he gestures to Takashi and Misaki. “And you gave me the idea of the science club.” He takes another sip of his coffee, and fiddles around in his pocket. “And of course, you brought me to the most important person in my life, the girl I fell in love with.” He turns to look at Molly and she places her hand in his.

“I found myself trapped in your gravity, after being adrift for so long. We all began to orbit one another. Suddenly the universe wasn’t so cold and dark, it was warm and full.”

There’s a pause, and Molly and Hisao kiss in front of everyone. Thankfully it’s just a peck.

“Even my speeches are inspired by the science club,” he laughs and nudges me. Haru and the others laugh with him.

“Love is a chemical reaction, after all.” I tell him, with a playful tone.

“But it’s more than that,” he counters, dead serious. “It’s all that there is, in the end. Because if you can’t have love, what else is there?”

Hisao’s eyes stay fixated on Molly.

“I know we said we didn’t want to celebrate Christmas, but I couldn’t help myself.”

Molly’s eyes narrow as Hisao produces a small jewellery box from his pocket. Haru’s eyes widen in concern, presumably thinking it’s an upcoming marriage proposal.

“Merry Christmas, Molly.” He basically whispers. Misaki and Takashi watch as if this is the most romantic thing in the world. Haru and I share a look of near horror. Molly’s face remains blank.

She takes the package wordlessly and pulls the bow that unwraps it. She plucks an ornate necklace out from the box, a necklace of a telescope.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers.

Hisao moves his hand from his chest and his smile widens with relief.

“I’m glad you like it. You told me about how you and your mother would go stargazing and I thought it was something to remember her by.”

Molly sits there, speechless. Haru’s hand falls from my own.

“A good memory, to wash away the bad.” Hisao says.

A flash of anger appears on Molly’s face but disappears within a fraction of a second. She wears a look only I can see.

Her eyes meet mine and they lock onto one another.

“A good to wash away the bad,” I say under my breath.

“Thank you, Hisao.” Molly states calmly. “But I really would rather we keep the Christmas talk to a minimum.”

Hisao physically shrinks a little bit.

“Oh, yeah of course.” He pauses. “I love you.” He sort of half-states and half-asks.

“I love you, too.” She replies.

I look back down to the green light of my phone.

“It’s snowing.” I text back.

It’s a lie, but if you can’t lie for love, then what else is there?

_____________________________________________________________________________

I look across the water. A single duck sits in front of the house on the lake, before taking flight directly above me. I watch it disappear into the distance.

I take another long drag of my cigarette. Inside the house, Haru and Hisao are fiddling around with the TV, whilst Misaki and Takashi both sit and read quietly.

It was an awkward hike back up to the lake house. Hisao was clearly taken aback by Molly’s reaction, and Molly was clearly uncomfortable that Hisao brought a Christmas gift to a holiday that strictly prohibited Christmas. Neither wanted to hurt the other, but sometimes we step on each other’s toes like that, I think. Misaki has been all over Takashi, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s ignored my advice. Or worse yet, taken it.

“So, you and Lezard then?” Molly asks from beside me. She’s nursing a hot chocolate.

“Yup,” I reply. “Thanks for keeping it a secret.”

“You’re not curious as to how I knew? You’re not as good a scientist as I thought.”

Oddly enough, I’m not even remotely curious. But Molly is a human can opener.

“Are you upset with me?” I ask her. Lezard and her have a history, I guess.

“No, I’m relieved. Lezard isn’t a bad guy, and he deserves to be happy as much as you do.”

She offers me a sip of her hot chocolate. That’s a Hisao original if I’ve ever had one.

“You didn’t like Hisao’s gift?” I ask her.

“It’s not that, he just can’t seem to get his head around me not liking Christmas.”

“You can’t change the past,” I tell her, and she nods.

“The holidays just remind me a lot of my family,” she admits. “Not good memories I’m afraid.” She paws at her neck awkwardly.

“I know,” I tell her. “But Hisao is really trying to make you happy.”

“There are some things you just can’t undo,” she says. “One good memory doesn’t wash out the bad.”

“I know.”

She looks at me, doing that piercing glare thing she does when she looks through to your soul.

“I know,” I repeat firmly, meeting her eyes and refusing to look away.

“Shit,” she states bleakly.

“Uncle.” I say.

“Stepdad,” she replies after a moment of consideration.

We sit in silence, staring at each other.

Finally, she sighs, “I can’t just pretend to be happy, the holiday has too many memories. Scars on emotional scars.”

“Palimpsests.” I offer.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

I look out towards the lakes.

“You can’t change the past,” I repeat. “But you can change the future.”

I take another drag, and Molly meets my eyes again.

“I can’t pretend –“

“Sure you can,” I take a drag of my cigarette. “Pretending to be happy is how ninety nine percent of us get through the day.”

She raises an eyebrow at me, quizzically.

“Somewhere along the line you forget you’re pretending.” I continue, “Eventually, you just are.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” She asks, cutting right through to the bone.

I bite my thumb nail.

“It’s how it started.” I answer.

“And are you happy now?”

Behind us in the house, Hisao and Haru have settled on a TV show to watch and sit sprawled out next to one another, Misaki and Takashi are sprawled out below them on the floor, their heads propping up against one another. It makes me vaguely uncomfortable.

“What could I possibly be sad about?” I ask her, and her eyes pierce through me.

“What’s going on Ritsu?” She asks, placing her hand on top of mine.

The grey clouds swirl above, and another strong cold wind chills me down to the bone. Molly looks at me expectantly.

“Haru and I are to marry,” I tell her, echoing the words of my father.

She bites her bottom lip.

“Okay, that’s a development.” A realisation comes over her face. “And Lezard?”

A wave of agony shoots through me. From my heart, or from my wrists. I can’t tell anymore. I don’t know where I begin and end.

“I haven’t crossed that bridge yet. We only found out a few days ago.”

“You know, I thought I had escaped the machinations of my father when I arrived at Yamaku,” I explain, taking another drag of my cigarette. “For a moment at least, it was like I was finally free of him, and he was free of me. I love Haru, and I want to spend my life with him…”

“Just not as lovers,” Molly finishes for me.

“Just not as lovers,” I agree.

“Is there anything you can do?” She asks.

I shake my head.

“My dad has a way of getting what he wants, one way or another.”

Molly sighs, “How does Haru feel about it?”

I look back at him, laughing and joking with Hisao.

“I can’t tell anymore. He was angry, really angry. He said we were trapped with one another. It doesn’t help that he still has feelings for me.”

“Still?”

“We were an item, sort of. Middle school and first year at Yamaku.” I explain.

“I had no idea,” she says quietly.

“That was intentional. It was only ever an experiment anyway, at least, for me.”

She nods solemnly. “You’re a scientist after all,” she says sadly.

“People shouldn’t be test subjects, it’s unethical.”

“It is.”

I look back into the house. Haru waves at me. Hisao waves at Molly. We both wave back.

“And now Lezard,” Molly states a bit sadly.

“And now Lezard.” I repeat.

“Constants and variables,” she says to herself.

“What are you going to do about him?” She asks.

“I haven’t gotten that far,” I tell her honestly.

The cigarette burns down to my fingers. I take a final drag and stub it out in the ashtray.

“Well, shit.” Molly finally says again.

“What would you do?”

“I don’t know. I can’t even imagine. On one hand, it’s Haruhiko, you guys are like family already… Maybe married life won’t be that different save for living together.” She strokes her chin in thought; a habit she’s stolen from Hisao. “But I couldn’t live a lie either. A life without real love, at least not a real love that can end in marriage. Then there’s appearances and…” She trails off.

“Your dads are assholes,” she finally says.

I laugh.

“That they are.” I pull the packet of cigarettes from my pocket. They’re just another fragment of my father. A bad habit I picked up from him.

“You know, my dad gave me my first ever cigarette.” I tell her.

Molly raises her eyebrows. I guess it is a bit of a weird thing to hear.

“The night I told him about my uncle. On this very balcony. I was fifteen.” I feel tears begin to sting at the edges of my vision. “He told me that families stay together. That family is all we have.”

Molly squeezes my hand supportively.

“I told him that I didn’t want to be in a family like that, one that covers up our blemishes with makeup and alcohol. And he told me that that’s what family is; people who support each other, even if it kills them. That you can hate family, but you can never be apart from them. Not really. They live inside of you. He gave me one of his cigarettes, and I coughed my guts up. He said that pain was weakness leaving the body, and that I should persist. I did, and when I finished it, he gave me the rest of his pack. I’ll always be a part of you, even when we’re apart, he said. A talisman to bind us, because that’s what family is.”

I think back to the sunken look he gave me in the car. If nothing else, he must believe that he’s right. That he’s giving Haru and me a future, not taking one away.

“I’m sorry, Ritsu.” Molly says, stroking the back of my hand patiently.

“It’s ok,” I tell her. “You can’t change the past.”

“But you can change the future,” she echoes, her eyes a distant glaze.

Her eyes look back into the living room. She smiles, sadly, looking at Hisao. Between her fingers she twists the necklace he bought for her, and a sudden look of determination takes over her.

“Maybe the good can’t wash away the bad,” she says. “But maybe you can pile good on top of good, and eventually when you look down, you don’t see so much bad.”

I smile and reach for the cigarette packet in my pocket.

Molly looks at me expectantly.

I squeeze the packet in my hands and feel the soft crinkle of paper.

“So, the future is mutable?” I ask.

“Maybe not all of it,” she answers. “Maybe only some small part of it, some part outside of fate, that the cruel gods don’t consider.”

We stand up and drop our arms over the balcony. The cigarette packet squishes further in my hand.

“Maybe you’re being tossed out of an aeroplane,” she continues, “Maybe you’re hurtling to the ground fast, and it feels hopeless.”

She gestures back into the living room.

“Sure, you can’t get back onto the plane. But you have a parachute.” She swings her arms out towards the lake, the slow ebb and flow of the trees in the evening wind, the gentle sway of the reeds on the lake. The spots where the grey clouds break, and a little evening amber pokes through. “You can decide where to land.”

Our eyes lock again. Two products of the past; two palimpsests. Two girls bound up in other stories, and somehow bound together.

I hurl the half-full packet of cigarettes into the dark of the lake, and they disappear without even a satisfying plop.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Do you have any jacks?” Hisao asks. His eyes pierce me. I crumble at his intense and powerful glare.

Except he already asked me that, the idiot.

“No, go fish dude.”

He sighs and takes another card from the pile. I’ve learnt over the last few hours that Hisao is the worst person at card games. I guess being smart often comes at the cost of common sense.

Molly gives him a sympathetic hug and wraps her arms around him fully.

“It’s ok Hisao, maybe this is one of those things you’re just not good at.”

Hisao feigns shock. “You mean there are other things I’m bad at?”

Takashi laughs. “I think Molly called you a bad lay, my man.”

“Gross!” Misaki and Molly say in unison, before laughing.

I shrug at Hisao, who throws his hands up in the air in mock frustration.

“I can’t win!”

“That’s the spirit, dude.” Haru jokes, tossing him another can of coke to replenish his empty one.

We’ve been playing games for the last few hours, and the general vibe of the group has changed significantly. When Molly and I came in from the balcony, it was like we had expunged something from inside of us. ‘Catharsis’, she called it.

And yet she didn’t know what a palimpsest was. Oh well.

Haru was quick to pick up on the mood change and started playing western Christmas tunes. The first few were to test the water, but when neither Molly nor I said anything, he cranked them up to full blast. We even managed to get Hisao to sing some in broken and awkward English. Which was as terrible and as hilarious as it sounds.

I’m glad that Haru had the foresight to omit the alcohol tonight. Even if Molly wasn’t here, and her aversion to alcohol was unclear, I would still have felt uncomfortable. My body feels heavy from the last few nights of drinking, and I thought for a minute I saw my father in my reflection.

Haru wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into a sideways hug.

“You and Molls had a good talk then?” He asks in a whisper.

I look over to Molly, her arms wrapped around Hisao’s torse and her fingers delicately playing with the necklace he bought her. Misaki is sitting beside her, examining it, and talking about how lucky Molly is. We make eye contact for another moment, and she smiles at me.

"We talked about the past, and the future, and how the two don’t always have to be symbiotic.” I reply.

He leans a little closer and whispers into my ear, his fingers stretching out along my shoulder.

“I never think of the future, it comes soon enough.” He smirks. I think that’s a quote, but I’m not sure. He can tell from my face that he’s stumped me. “Einstein.”

I take a deep breath.

“You know, there’s no one I’d rather be trapped with,” I whisper to him.

He smiles, a sad and beaten smile.

“When you love someone, it kills you to see them hurting.” He says seriously.

I place his hands to my lips and lay a kiss on the back of his hand. Takashi raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.

“There are worse pains,” I tell him.

Molly places her hand on Hisao’s hand and clears her throat. Beside us, the fire gently crackles and ensconces us with its warmth.

“I was worried about coming here,” she begins. “No offence Ritsu, Haru, but I really don’t like Christmas.”

We all give a quiet laugh.

“Christmas back home was always an awkward experience. A reminder of bad people and bad times, like I was stepping back into a life I already moved on from. I think subconsciously I started to associate the winter holidays, and Christmas in particular, with the past. In some ways, that’s what it is. A celebration of the past, and the people that you spent it with, even the ones you wish you hadn’t.”

She flinches a little, maybe only enough for me to see.

“But Christmas is as much about the future as it is about the past,” she makes eye contact with me, only briefly. “It is about being honest with the people you love, spending time with them, being thankful for them, and making new and happy memories.”

Hisao’s smile lights up the room.

“Maybe they won’t wash away the bad ones,” she gives a small chuckle. “But they’ll provide light in the dark months, warmth in the cold ones, and love in the lonely. Thank you Ritsu, and Haru. Thank you, Takashi, and Misaki. Thank you, Hisao. I love you all. And if I can’t say it on the twenty fourth of December, when can I say it? Merry Christmas.”

She kisses Hisao softly.

We all shimmy in for a group hug and wrap our arms around each other. Six people, wrapped up in one another literally and metaphorically. Some bound by fates outside of our control, some bound by choice. But bound together all the same.

My phone vibrates in my pocket.

“Hey, let’s call?” It’s Lezard.

I untangle myself from my friends and get up. Molly and Haru both stare at me intently.

I wrap myself in Haru’s coat and head out onto the balcony. The phone rings twice, before Lezard picks up.

“Hey, Ritsu.”

“Hey, Lezard.”

It’s cold out here. Freezing, even. I look down into the lake but see nothing but darkness.

“I’ve missed your voice.”

“I’ve missed you. All of you.” I tell him.

I place my hand against the window to the house. Haru looks up at me, and waves.

The inside and outside versions of myself, separated only by a pane of glass. I’ve thought that before.

“We haven’t called as much as we should, I want to hear about your holiday. How is Haru? How are the others?” Lezard asks.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been really busy.”

“It’s ok,” the voice on the other end of the receiver goes quiet.

Christmas is about being honest with the people you love. - Molly.

We choose the people we fall in love with. - Haruhiko.

If you can’t have love, what else is there? - Hisao.

That’s Haru and Ritsu. Two people, fated to be together forever.- Takashi.

“Games of quotation,” I say low, gripping the phone tightly.

“I didn’t catch that.”

I take a deep breath and watch the frozen plume escape me.

“It’s your turn,” I tell him.

“My turn to do what?” He asks.

“Why me?”

I hear Lezard laugh on the other end of the phone.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

“The first day of second year?”

“Yeah. I didn’t have many friends back in my old school, I know I’m not everyone’s favourite. I was anxious, anxious as all hell.”

I look up to the grey swirling nothing. Inside, Molly and Hisao are forcing Takashi to sing some stupid Christmas carol. They all give me a little wave.

“You invited me to the Shanghai, you and Haruhiko. That was the first time anyone had made that kind of effort with me. You told me that I had a kind smile.”

“You do.” I interrupt.

He laughs gently.

“Yeah. You kept inviting me to places. You, me and Haruhiko. You showed me all around Yamaku, around the town. You introduced me to Molly, to Takashi and to Misaki. We started our little unofficial science club.”

He goes silent for a moment, and I wonder if he’s thinking about Hisao, how he basically stole the science club and all its members.

“Anyway, I knew then that I needed you to be in my life. In one way or another. Because that’s what you do Ritsu. You bring people together; you make people into something larger than themselves. I knew then, and when you appeared outside my door, and you kissed me…”

He trails off for a second.

“I knew you were the girl I’d been waiting for. It wasn’t Molly, it was you. It was always you.”

“I don’t deserve you,” I tell him. My cheeks sting. From the cold, maybe.

The line goes cold for a moment.

“I told you, I’m all in. I’m all in because I love you, Ritsu.” He whispers over the phone.

“I’m sorry.” I reply, my fingers holding the phone shaking a little.

“Why are you sorry?” The confusion in his voice turns to concern.

“Because I don’t love you back.” I lie.

There’s a long pause, and a long sigh. I wonder if he can tell when I’m lying to him.

I don’t know how I can be such a cruel bitch. - Misaki.

We make tough decisions for the ones we love, even if they resent us for it. - Dad.

At least we’ll be trapped together. - Haruhiko.

You can go back. - Ritsu Tainaka.

“Games of quotation,” I repeat, like a prayer.

“This was your idea, Ritsu.” I faintly hear some anger.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat again.

I can almost hear him thinking on the other end of the line.

“I know when you’re lying to me, Ritsu.” This time he sounds sad, broken hearted, maybe.

“Lezard, please.” I plead.

There’s another prolonged silence between us.

“Okay Ritsu. Okay.”

The dam breaks. The grey sky swirls above me. My tears have nowhere to go, but they fall anyway.

“It was nice while it lasted.” Lezard finally says.


I look out over the water.

The porch light comes on, casting light over the balcony and the lake.

I see a reflection of the house. Our house. I see my own reflection, staring ponderously back at me. She looks curious, as if she wants to reach out and pull me into the water with her. For a moment, I consider it. But she’s small, and far away.

“It was nice while it lasted,” I repeat.

A cloud dances on the black lake.

Inside the house, Molly and Hisao are cuddling on the couch. Their love must be infectious, because Takashi and Misaki laugh and joke together as they did before their awkward sexual rendezvous. Misaki just can’t help but make mistake after mistake. I guess she’s just like the rest of us.

Haru stands up facing the balcony window. He places a hand against the glass facing me.

Separated by a pane of glass, two halves and two prisoners. One soul in two bodies, tethered and severed.

I place my hand against the glass and meet his eyes. He fiddles around with his phone.

The love that ties us burns to just an ember.

“I should go,” Lezard whispers over the phone. His voice enters me. It binds me to him.

“Just a little longer,” I beg him.

“Okay,” he replies.

And for a moment, we pretend it is.

My phone vibrates again in my hand.

Midnight, a text from Haru.

“Merry Christmas, Lezard.” I whisper, barely audible.

“Merry Christmas, Ritsu.” He replies softly.

And finally, after threatening to do so for so long.

It snows.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Notes
Last edited by Feurox on Wed Sep 27, 2023 8:56 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Trapped all the Same - Prompt and Thanks

Post by Feurox »

So if you made it through that some 20K words, well done, and thank you. There's no other community I would want to be a part of, and I hope that you enjoyed this story as much as possible.

This was a prompt from Lap in, I think, 2020. It went unfulfilled, and so I thought, seeing as Lap is my friend, I could do a short little story for him. I was wrong about one of those things.

The prompt was as follows:
Hisao discovers that His Girl (whoever you want) has never really celebrated Christmas, so he decides to try and give her a Very Special Christmas. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't exactly work out the way he planned...
As always, if you don't make these prompts legally and physically bulletproof. I will tear them in half. So, thanks for the challenge Lap ;)

Seriously, Lap has proofread nearly every story on here for me. He's been a massive help both for my development as a writer, and for my development as a person. Over the years we've known each other, I've come to see him as more than just a guy I can have a chat about KS with, and to a guy who I can and frequently do talk about life with. It has been a privilege and an honour to work with you on so many stories, and an even greater privilege to call you a friend. Thank you Lap. I hope this story speaks to you.

I also hope you're happy to receive a story you didn't have to proofread. :P

Speaking of Proofreading. Noticemeoppai did a phenomenal job proofing this. It was a massive undertaking, and he did it speedily and without complaint. We spoke about this story since its conception a few weeks ago at great length. In many ways, this story was his as much as it was mine. Thank you, for everything. I have a bottle of whiskey here, ready for you.

Thank you to Prof for your help in getting this prompt found, and brought to life. I hope that you like it too.

Also, in advance. I nearly called this story 'Games of Quotation', but I was worried Crafty would organise another groupon trip to my house and beat me.

Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Late September!

Thank you to everyone.

- Feurox.
My Molly Route
Ekephrasis and Other Stories
I hate when people ruin perfectly good literature with literary terminology.
- CraftyAtom
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Re: Trapped all the Same - An unfulfilled SS20 Prompt for Lap

Post by Lap »

God.

Damn.

Wow.

Just… Wow. No tears (sorry!), but definitely an aching heart.

I’ve always been in awe of your writing, but I truly think this is one of the best, if not the best, stories you’ve written. I am humbled and amazed to think that I might have had even a little bit to do with the creation of this piece. It has been an honor and a joy to proofread for you over the years, and a privilege to have you proofread for me, and I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me. I’m glad I’ve gotten to know you. You’re a good man.

I’ll write more when it’s not almost midnight and I’ve had a chance to read it again, but I wanted to make sure you knew I appreciated the gift.

Thank you, Friend.

Scarred Muse Hanako and Rin.
Avenues of Communication: Shizune suffers an accident.
Home: Hanako & Hisao at University, sharing an apartment with their friend Lilly (on Ao3).
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Re: Trapped all the Same - An unfulfilled SS20 Prompt for Lap

Post by StealthyWolf »

I think Lap worded it best there, because damn, my heart hurts.

I'm always amazed with how well you weave such entrancing prose into the narrative without it feeling pretentious. Reminds me of how I felt when I read A Pseudo-Pseudo Suzu Route - that being I was able to get lost in the headspace and thoughts of the narrator, and drawn so thoroughly into the story that I lose myself in it. The narrative is tight, well crafted, paced excellently, presented eloquently... well, you get the point.

Before now I could easily say Requiem for a Heart Song was my favorite short of yours, but god damn if there was ever a contender it'd be this one. It's not so much that your other haven't been as well written as others, per se, rather that they haven't been stories that connected wit and/or hit me specifically as hard as Requiem did, though I guess I'm also a sucker for so stories. So you can probably see why this one contending with that is a feat of sorts from my perspective. To sum it up, Requiem hurt. Trapped all the Same stings. I once again will defer to Lap's words here: this is definitely one of, if not the best of your works.

I was going to spend some time here deep diving into the minutia of the story but for now I think it best that I end this before it drags. Not to put pressure on you, but I hear your stories come in trios minimum, and I'll definitely be waiting for what's to come next.

Write your story as it needs to be written. Write it honestly, and tell it as best you can. I’m not sure that there are any other rules. Not ones that matter.

My Writing:
Uncertainty (A post Emi-Good Ending Story)
Saying Goodbye to Tomorrow (A Mai Morikawa Pseudo Route)
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Re: Trapped all the Same - An unfulfilled SS20 Prompt for Lap

Post by Talmar »

Intense ... does not cut it.

Amidst the fun of the everyday that I saw as I read through this, there's a constant underlying presence of unease, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. Between Ritsu and Haru, it's the marriage thing. Poor Lezard got the short end of the stick for that; no doubt this pain will last him years, if not decades, of distrust for romance. Between Molly and Hisao, it's their lack of communication and insistence on personal views (although, this one is partially defused). Between Takashi and Misaki, it's the fact they started off with a drunken tryst. And worst of all, all these are trappings of their own makings.

Given responsibilities over things beyond their wisdom, they forge an adulthood wracked with troubles.

Personally speaking, it doesn't quite ring as closely to me as your Rika fic - I think that's just me being literarily simple, my repertoire of academic reading is limited to mostly research articles, hah - but I still like it. Foreboding stories hinting of darker days ahead are my favorite, and this ticks the box.
"They say, the best way to improve yourself is to believe in who you are. You are but a blip in the lives of many you pass by, so why worry? Be yourself - life is too short to worry about the minor altercations here and there.

"So, get out there. Break the chains that holds you back - and embrace the freedom ahead of you." - me
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Re: Trapped all the Same - An unfulfilled SS20 Prompt for Lap

Post by Sharp-O »

I'm in this fic and I don't like it :cry: Seriously, this cut deeper than a lot of stuff I've read on here because it feels deeply personal to some of my own experiences so, y'know, thanks for the trauma! :lol:

But, as always, a beautifully written tragedy with heart and hurt in equal measure. Fantastic job.

Only one (possible) mistake I found.
Feurox wrote: Wed Sep 27, 2023 8:43 pmI look over to Molly, her arms wrapped around Hisao’s torse
Unless he's wearing a wreath, that should be torso, right?
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Re: Trapped all the Same - An unfulfilled SS20 Prompt for Lap

Post by Scramblers »

Here I am at last.

And, well, this is excellent. Once again, and better than before, you've picked out that self destructive, venomous, thanatological, scorpion streak that threads its way through the heart of humanity. A portrayal of humanity without sentimentality, but without rancour either. Just people as they are, their many failures, and the strength the find to play the abysmal hand they've been given.

The standout points for me were:

1. The running theme of games of quotation, and the slow drip reveal of the deep meaning behind that act.

2. The sheer unsolvability and unfairness of Ritsu's and Haru's predicament. And the courage to see it through to the end. There's no escape, no artificial happy end here. But despite that, neither is there an overwrought sad ending. The ending feels like a resolution while at the same time showing a mature resistance to resolution.

3. And with that, there's a depth of thought here. The characters consider their philosophies of life, their perspectives on what one can do. But the story declines to say who is right and who isn't. It allows them their thoughts and arguments, but doesn't trivialise that by declaring a winner. Life just happens, as it does, the unfair and painful and joyous and healing, while people try to work with it.

4. The brutality of heritage. Ritsu and Haru can't escape their parents -- not simply in a literal sense, but in the sense that, for all their attempts at independence, for all their disdain, they start to become their parents without even realising it. As Laura Marling sang, "And Mother, I blame you with every inch of the being you gave, for I have become you and I know every part of the game."

5. The portrayal of love, even healthy love between Hisao and Molly, as something unmagical, awkward, and impure. Because of course (I realise this as I write it), that underlines the point that love is something we construct, something make happen, not something that happens to us.

You said this one was better than the last one. I'm not sure if I agree. My position at the moment would be "don't make me choose." (But then, maybe I'm biased, because I feel more like Suzu than Ritsu.) Regardless, they're both excellent, and both portray such different characters with equal subtlety and deftness.
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Re: Trapped all the Same - An unfulfilled SS20 Prompt for Lap

Post by Feurox »

Lap wrote: Wed Sep 27, 2023 11:28 pm God.

Damn.

Wow.

Just… Wow. No tears (sorry!), but definitely an aching heart.

I’ve always been in awe of your writing, but I truly think this is one of the best, if not the best, stories you’ve written. I am humbled and amazed to think that I might have had even a little bit to do with the creation of this piece. It has been an honor and a joy to proofread for you over the years, and a privilege to have you proofread for me, and I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me. I’m glad I’ve gotten to know you. You’re a good man.

I’ll write more when it’s not almost midnight and I’ve had a chance to read it again, but I wanted to make sure you knew I appreciated the gift.

Thank you, Friend.
Still waiting on you to break it down for me ;) But I wanted to say thank you for a beautiful comment. Humbled and honoured, as always.
StealthyWolf wrote: Thu Sep 28, 2023 2:13 am I think Lap worded it best there, because damn, my heart hurts.

I'm always amazed with how well you weave such entrancing prose into the narrative without it feeling pretentious. Reminds me of how I felt when I read A Pseudo-Pseudo Suzu Route - that being I was able to get lost in the headspace and thoughts of the narrator, and drawn so thoroughly into the story that I lose myself in it. The narrative is tight, well crafted, paced excellently, presented eloquently... well, you get the point.

Before now I could easily say Requiem for a Heart Song was my favorite short of yours, but god damn if there was ever a contender it'd be this one. It's not so much that your other haven't been as well written as others, per se, rather that they haven't been stories that connected wit and/or hit me specifically as hard as Requiem did, though I guess I'm also a sucker for so stories. So you can probably see why this one contending with that is a feat of sorts from my perspective. To sum it up, Requiem hurt. Trapped all the Same stings. I once again will defer to Lap's words here: this is definitely one of, if not the best of your works.

I was going to spend some time here deep diving into the minutia of the story but for now I think it best that I end this before it drags. Not to put pressure on you, but I hear your stories come in trios minimum, and I'll definitely be waiting for what's to come next.

Write your story as it needs to be written. Write it honestly, and tell it as best you can. I’m not sure that there are any other rules. Not ones that matter.
Thank you so much Stealthy! I'm really dlad you could connect with Ritsu here, and yeah, it does feel like one of my better ones just because it's almost... mundane, in its drama. I felt like this story stood alone better than some of my other pieces. Definitely always want to hear the minutia, but now, since you bloody cursed me, I have a third story in the pipeline. You did this to me. I hope you're happy.
Talmar wrote: Thu Sep 28, 2023 6:43 am Intense ... does not cut it.

Amidst the fun of the everyday that I saw as I read through this, there's a constant underlying presence of unease, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. Between Ritsu and Haru, it's the marriage thing. Poor Lezard got the short end of the stick for that; no doubt this pain will last him years, if not decades, of distrust for romance. Between Molly and Hisao, it's their lack of communication and insistence on personal views (although, this one is partially defused). Between Takashi and Misaki, it's the fact they started off with a drunken tryst. And worst of all, all these are trappings of their own makings.

Given responsibilities over things beyond their wisdom, they forge an adulthood wracked with troubles.

Personally speaking, it doesn't quite ring as closely to me as your Rika fic - I think that's just me being literarily simple, my repertoire of academic reading is limited to mostly research articles, hah - but I still like it. Foreboding stories hinting of darker days ahead are my favorite, and this ticks the box.
Thank you Tal! It's really nice that you pointed out the broken relationships at play here, and I think what's interesting about those relationships is that, we've all had some kind of experience with those breakdowns. And yeah, poor Lezard! I wanted to maybe have more Lezard in this, but I also didn't want it to be ABOUT him so much as an understanding from Ritsu that she had to set him free as it were, even though she may have done more damage than good there...
Sharp-O wrote: Thu Sep 28, 2023 11:02 am I'm in this fic and I don't like it :cry: Seriously, this cut deeper than a lot of stuff I've read on here because it feels deeply personal to some of my own experiences so, y'know, thanks for the trauma! :lol:

But, as always, a beautifully written tragedy with heart and hurt in equal measure. Fantastic job.

Only one (possible) mistake I found.
Feurox wrote: Wed Sep 27, 2023 8:43 pmI look over to Molly, her arms wrapped around Hisao’s torse
Unless he's wearing a wreath, that should be torso, right?
Goddamn Sharp-O! I'm sorry to ring so close to home, but now I defo need to get a beer with you and hear about this! It's what i do, hash up trauma and hope I get some tears ;) Thank you for the kind words, it means a great deal coming from a writer I admire so much.

Also, Hisao is one stylish dude, he could pull off a wreath.
Scramblers wrote: Mon Oct 09, 2023 1:56 pm Here I am at last.

And, well, this is excellent. Once again, and better than before, you've picked out that self destructive, venomous, thanatological, scorpion streak that threads its way through the heart of humanity. A portrayal of humanity without sentimentality, but without rancour either. Just people as they are, their many failures, and the strength the find to play the abysmal hand they've been given.

The standout points for me were:

1. The running theme of games of quotation, and the slow drip reveal of the deep meaning behind that act.

2. The sheer unsolvability and unfairness of Ritsu's and Haru's predicament. And the courage to see it through to the end. There's no escape, no artificial happy end here. But despite that, neither is there an overwrought sad ending. The ending feels like a resolution while at the same time showing a mature resistance to resolution.

3. And with that, there's a depth of thought here. The characters consider their philosophies of life, their perspectives on what one can do. But the story declines to say who is right and who isn't. It allows them their thoughts and arguments, but doesn't trivialise that by declaring a winner. Life just happens, as it does, the unfair and painful and joyous and healing, while people try to work with it.

4. The brutality of heritage. Ritsu and Haru can't escape their parents -- not simply in a literal sense, but in the sense that, for all their attempts at independence, for all their disdain, they start to become their parents without even realising it. As Laura Marling sang, "And Mother, I blame you with every inch of the being you gave, for I have become you and I know every part of the game."

5. The portrayal of love, even healthy love between Hisao and Molly, as something unmagical, awkward, and impure. Because of course (I realise this as I write it), that underlines the point that love is something we construct, something make happen, not something that happens to us.

You said this one was better than the last one. I'm not sure if I agree. My position at the moment would be "don't make me choose." (But then, maybe I'm biased, because I feel more like Suzu than Ritsu.) Regardless, they're both excellent, and both portray such different characters with equal subtlety and deftness.
Wow. Thank you so so much again Scramblers for such eloquent and charming feedback. You humble me, and I do not deserve half this praise.

All 5 of the things you point out are so so deliberate and it makes me feel extremely satisfied to see they made it through to you. Especially 1, 4 and 5. Honestly, I really really worried that the premise of this story was just too unbelievable, that it didn't make sense. In some ways, maybe it doesn't. I won't pretend to know enough about arranged marriges or whatever. I guess the truth is, the story isn't even really about that. It's about heritage, and about personal relationships, and about how there's really no such thing as a 'true love', just love that gets made and re-made in different images.

I don't know how sympathetic Haru comes across in this story, but I actually found, while writing this, that he was my favourite. His ideas about love, (forged by his own problems with it with Ritsu) felt very bitter but also, oddly, kind of beautiful to me. And by the end of the story, I loved including the detail that Ritsu has begun to echo it...

Anyway, thank you so so much. I am eternally grateful to all who left such thoughtful and powerful feedback. I expect one or two more (the critical ones ;) ) to come, and I look forward to them! Thank you again all, you are the reason I write!
My Molly Route
Ekephrasis and Other Stories
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Lap
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Re: Trapped all the Same - An unfulfilled SS20 Prompt for Lap

Post by Lap »

"A wretched soul, bruised with adversity."

A particularly ironic epigraph, given how easily hemophiliacs (Haru) bruise.

Shakespeare, btw. :-)

(Okay, yes, I had to look it up. I'm not Ritsu...)

(As I warned you, I'm lousy at analysis & deep thinking about stories, so all I really have are random bits and bobs of reaction.)

Keep in mind at all times that I loved this work, and am ever so grateful for the gift. Your writing keeps on improving, and it's a delight to observe (and an honor to participate in, to the extent that I do).

As commented by others, the levels of the games of quotation is superb in this, especially as it ties in to Ritsu's final conversation with Lezard. (Final-final? Or just final in the story?)

Ritsu's & Haru's relationship is the beautiful heart of this story, and it flies in the face of a lot of popular fiction, where it's always assumed that close male/female friends of course must be romantically involved. It's nice to see a solidly loving M/F relationship that's not romantic (even if Haru wishes it was).

All joking about your other stories aside, I liked the recurrent motifs of orbits and gravity.

I confess I never really understood why Lezard was considered an asshole by Haru and the others--I assume he split from the "science club" crowd when Molly & Hisao hooked up, but there seems to be some other unexplained animosity there. Unless Haru is just jealous of his relationship with Ritsu? But that doesn't explain Takashi's attitude toward him.

And he told me that that’s what family is; people who support each other, even if it kills them. That you can hate family, but you can never be apart from them. Not really. They live inside of you. He gave me one of his cigarettes, and I coughed my guts up.

It's appalling the degree to which Ritsu has internalized this awful distorted definition of what a family is. She can and probably should be apart from her family, but she is trapped, and seems to lack the energy to escape. To achieve escape velocity, to use your orbital/gravity metaphors :-). As she notes elsewhere:

That’s the crucial component that’s missing. Choice.

She's not missing a choice, she's choosing not to exercise the hard choice she's got. To cut loose from her toxic family and set out on her own.

We smoke, and he drinks. We stew in our own quiet self-destruction.
...
We measure our shadows as they move along the wall. Two shadows of their fathers.

It's almost as if they're trying to escape those shadows through death. But lung cancer and cirrhosis don't kill you that quickly, alas.

I hesitate to point out errors, feeling like I'm looking a thoroughbred gift horse in the mouth, but:

A few empty tables remain, like Ikezawa’s, who I’ve never really understood but who has come out of her shell a little and who I’ve seen chatting with the newspaper duo before. Akio and Lezard, who must still be hobbling behind us, are nowhere to be seen.

I give Natsume, Naomi and Hanako a wave and a smile

--So I guess it was George Ikezawa's desk that was empty that day...

I see myself in the reflection on the water, the small glow of my cigarette a shimmering orange contrast against the dark waters.

--sorry, reflections don't work like that. Unless the deck hangs out over the water and she's leaning on the rail looking directly down, all she'd see is the opposite shore reflected in the water. But supposedly she's sitting. Same issue occurs near the end of the story. Reflections make for lovely imagery, but this threw me out of the story twice.

I feel like there were two points where you could have twisted the knife a little more (which I know you love to do...). One was in re: Ritsu & Hara's sexual compatibility.

While having sex with Lezard:

“A physical necessity,” I repeat as our sex becomes increasingly brutal.

and later:

I love Haru, and I could even love him romantically, but I could never be attracted to him. I know that, and I know Haru knows that too. It’s simple, really. Drinking made him provisionally more attractive, but that’s unsustainable.

Maybe I don’t even love Lezard. I think I do, but not in the certain way that I love Haru. But Haru doesn’t excite me. Love should be exciting.

It was at this point I thought that part of the reason Ritsu couldn't whole-heartedly love Haru was simply because she likes rough sex--and she's afraid of horrifically bruising & damaging her hemophiliac partner. Their lovemaking of necessity must always have been a bit sedate and gentle. Always treating him with kid gloves, at a remove. Such gentle sex might be romantic, but it's not energetic like she craves. Sexual compatibility isn't the be-all and end-all of a relationship, but it's certainly a big part.

And contrast her desire for rough sex with her history with her uncle. Would memories of him sometimes intrude on her time with Lezard?

Speaking of her uncle, I have to note: sexual abuse being the go-to for when a female character needs to have Something Awful in her past is a bit overdone, but making it a point of connection between Ritsu & Molly mitigates this a little.

The other place where the knife could have been twisted was in how Ritsu & Haru were trapped. They choose to stay trapped in their fathers' desires that they marry. They don't have to get married--they could stand at the altar and say "I don't." But then they would be giving up the life they knew, probably kicked out of their families, left to their own resources. No more Lake House, with its fully stuffed larders and bar. Other than the line "A pretty prison to rot in, I think." this doesn't seem to be addressed.

The title refers to them being trapped, but not this aspect of it, unless it was so subtle I missed it. Would have liked to hear one or the other of them acknowledge or somehow allude to this at some point or other. Imagine them viewing the house from the coffee shop across the lake: "It was beautiful house, painted in browns and dark greens to blend tastefully into the forest, but it might as well have been painted gold. Our gilded cage, to which we voluntarily returned."

But it also has to be kept in mind: They're kids. Smoking and drinking and screwing but still only 18 years old or so. That kind of hard choice is incredibly scary, and might require a few more years of pain to push them out of the nest. Or those years might just fully cement them into place...

Don't get me wrong, I love the story as-is; these are just what-ifs, things I would have said to you if I'd been beta-reading this to help you torture them more :-). As I said before, I think this is one of the best, if not the best, stories you've written.

(I'll tackle the SPAG issues separately, in DMs.)

Thank you yet again for this wonderful gift, kind sir. You're the best!


Scarred Muse Hanako and Rin.
Avenues of Communication: Shizune suffers an accident.
Home: Hanako & Hisao at University, sharing an apartment with their friend Lilly (on Ao3).
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Re: Trapped all the Same - An unfulfilled SS20 Prompt for Lap

Post by Mirage_GSM »

Okay, having “made it through that some 20K words” – I can say two things:

  1. You again didn’t manage to write a short story and
  2. You again managed to write a damn good one.

Okay, I can say a bit more…

Having read this story end to end with “Empty Space” they do feel quite similar. There are (surprisingly) few overlaps in the cast, but except for a few minor details about Hisao’s arrival at Yamaku they could almost be set in the same continuity…

In contrast to “Empty space” this one did have a downer ending… Or rather I think it was supposed to have one, because I’m getting some mixed vibes about it.

On the one hand there is the last phone call with Lezard which seems pretty definite in its meaning – on the other hand there is her conversation with Molly just before where her casting away the cigarettes to me feels like a pretty definite rejection of her father and his machinations… which made the last phone call very confusing to me…

On the Gripping Hand(*) with everyone’s feelings being as they are I can hardly imagine a way this could be going towards a downer ending.

Just for curiosity’s sake: How did Molly realize the thing with Lezard?

And finally a few comments I noted down while reading:

They often joked that it was some kind of cruel twist of fate that both of their children would be born with abnormalities, but at least we’d always have each other.

Carpal tunnel is usually an acquired condition and not one you are born with. It seems to be a propensity for CT can be congenital, but it almost never manifests in childhood.

We could do a Romeo and Juliet inspired suicide to spite them.

This would almost rather be a reverse Romeo and Juliet… :lol:

and then he gives Haru and I me the same stare.

“I wonder what Akio and Lezard are doing for the break,” Ikuno ponders, maybe more to herself than to us.

Either Ikuno spontaneously appeared there, or that was supposed to be Misaki…

(*) [Quotation Game]: Larry Niven

Emi > Misha > Hanako > Lilly > Rin > Shizune

My collected KS-Fan Fictions: Mirage's Myths
griffon8 wrote:Kosher, just because sex is your answer to everything doesn't mean that sex is the answer to everything.
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Re: Trapped all the Same - An unfulfilled SS20 Prompt for Lap

Post by PsychicSpy »

Finally catching up on some KS reading, and this one was another Feurox banger. I really enjoyed it! I'm always pulled in by family problems as a plot point, and how different characters interpret their duties to their family. Haru and Ritsu clearly have a very specific view of family; that it should be loyal to a fault. I find it refreshing that they don't fully overcome that here, because I think the typical way out is rejecting that view and saying "fuck my family, I'm gonna do what I want". It's more interesting to see them grapple with it, and take the conflict more seriously.

I definitely echo Lap in saying that it's nice to get a story with a M/F pairing that's not necessarily romantically attracted to one another.

As always, fantastic work man!

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Re: Trapped all the Same - An unfulfilled SS20 Prompt for Lap

Post by Craftyatom »

Well damn. Here we are, huh. Been meaning to read this one for a long time, and finally got the chance. So...

Feurox wrote: Wed Sep 27, 2023 8:39 pm

“Nobody, I just thought I felt a text.” I lie.

Every Feurox story has a particular moment, once all the exposition is over, which reminds you it's a Feurox story.

Feurox wrote: Wed Sep 27, 2023 8:39 pm

“Yeah, I’m awake. You want to come over?”

It's kind of ambiguous what's happening here. Is this a text, or a phone call, given the quotation marks? Is Ritsu reading/hearing, or typing/speaking? Unfortunately the context here doesn't make it clear, unlike all of your other dialogue, which does a great job of implying who's saying what.

Feurox wrote: Wed Sep 27, 2023 8:39 pm

“I don’t really want to know, Ritsu.” He sighs. “Especially if it’s with the person I think it is.”

How do you write so many stories about characters fucking and yet manage to make them all so depressing? Anyways, at first I was into the mystery of who exactly was doing the fucking, but honestly, it didn't last long, because you gave him so much flowery language (fine, it's the narrator's skewed perspective, but still) - and because it feels like it's always the same guy? Maybe the reason I liked The Kintsugi Club so much was because he finally got to be a role that wasn't the asshole.

Feurox wrote: Wed Sep 27, 2023 8:39 pm

“I’m not sure that’s true,” he counters. “We place ourselves in love’s way. If someone is bad news, we have a choice to avoid them. Too many people pretend that there’s some grand plan or some destiny that makes us fall for that special person, but there isn’t. We choose the people we fall in love with, and propinquity makes it so.”

Okay, new protagonist. Gave up on Ritsu like 400 words ago, and Haru is now the clear favorite. My boy deserves better than the cuck chair. UPDATE: I swear I wrote that before I started part 2 (though tbh I did kinda see it coming, given the foreshadowing about the drive).

Feurox wrote: Wed Sep 27, 2023 8:41 pm

I’m not sure when Takashi came downstairs, but he has an accomplished look on his face. I look over at Misaki who looks utterly hollow. Ouch.

Okay, Takashi is a close second. He missed his chance at the top spot, but I guess he can be the best non-pyrrhic character.

Feurox wrote: Wed Sep 27, 2023 8:43 pm

“I know,” I repeat firmly, meeting her eyes and refusing to look away.

Okay, look, I'm not gonna repeat the whole sentence I wrote before, because it looks bad in this context, but reference what I said about making them all so depressing. That said, as Lap mentioned, I do think you struck a reasonable balance between needing to explicitly tell the reader (and the characters themselves) while also not laying it on thick.

So... here we are. Not at all how I would've taken the story - I was at least hoping for a Thelma & Louise or something (you hinted at something like it briefly) - but it's not all bad. You patch up Hisao and Molly really well, in an almost-schadenfreude kind of way. Misaki and Takashi are at least amicable in some sense, though I think they could've used a bit more dialogue later on to provide clarity (to the extent it was available). And I guess I did drop Ritsu as the protagonist halfway through. Still, Haru deserved better - ideally, some proper rebelliousness (again, it's hinted that he has anger, he just needs to use it properly; and yes, I know there are cultural differences, doesn't mean it's not a reasonable direction).

All in all, very well written, and as gloomy as ever! (I will hear no retort - you literally wrote a secret santa story that used Christmas itself as a central theme in the mental trauma of two of the main characters. I think that's a record, but I also know that it'd be easy to break if it were.)

Feurox wrote: Thu Oct 12, 2023 6:40 pm

I don't know how sympathetic Haru comes across in this story, but I actually found, while writing this, that he was my favourite.

Funny to find us agreeing, after all that.

Feurox wrote: Wed Sep 27, 2023 8:52 pm

As always, if you don't make these prompts legally and physically bulletproof. I will tear them in half.

Remind me to get some Kevlar ready by November.

Feurox wrote: Wed Sep 27, 2023 8:52 pm

I nearly called this story 'Games of Quotation', but I was worried Crafty would organise another groupon trip to my house and beat me.

The kind of wisdom that only comes from experience. :P

Oh, and you'll want to hear my thoughts on the quotes - I'll DM you specifics, but basically, the quotation game was actually quite good (as they were always relevant in context), but the chapter quotes were hit-or-miss for me. But the story was an excellently-made journey, as always!

Main route: COM(promise)
One-shots: Crafty's One-Shots (Dark Winter Sky, Dreamy, Path of Least Resistance, Project Blue Curtain, and more!)
Old poetry: Google Drive Collection
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