Katawa Changeling

[Beld]

"We're here, Mr. Nakai."

The voice smashes into my consciousness like a sledgehammer, shattering my peaceful dreams. I grunt softly, hoping that the voice was just my imagination; perhaps it was part of my dream.

Alas, no such luck.

"Mr. Nakai, wake up! We have a ways to walk, and I have an appointment at six in town!"

I groan now, blearily rising from what could charitably be called a sleeping position and fumble for the door handle. I silently curse the piercing voice of the driver, who is, by the looks of it, getting ready to speak again.

"'M up, I'm up." I groan, hoping to stave off any attempt at conversation until I am somewhat awake. Once again, my hopes are dashed.

"Come on, now. You'll miss your classes if you don't hurry up!"

"If only."

Finally, I open the car door, pulling together a semblance of awareness. As I step out, a large gate catches my eye. It's large, iron and very foreboding. Yet something seems odd. As I look around, it becomes apparent that it is not the early hour I thought it was. In fact...

"Wait, what time is it?"

My driver looks at me, a badly-suppressed grin apparent on her face.

"About six in the evening, last I checked."

I groan, hitting my face with my palm. I briefly consider snapping at the driver, but rein my anger back. She had been tricking me since the hospital, so why did I think she'd be serious with me now?

Unbidden, my mind spins back to the hospital, and the circumstances leading to it. I think back to the grove of trees, bare and still in the midst of a snowfall, Iwanako moving forward, embarrassed and blushing in the light snow. Yet despite such a warming scene, I somehow felt sad and cold, despite my warm clothes and my embarrassment. It was almost as if I was viewing a movie, with hundreds of different women taking Iwanako's place, all enacting the same scene.

...I don't remember falling, or hitting the ground. I remember Iwanako's horrified face, looking at me as I lay there in the snow. After that, I don't remember much until a few days after I was hospitalized.

Arrhythmia. Even the way the doctor said it sounded cold and alien. They even said that I might of had it since I was born, laying undetected until now. I found it almost unbelievable that such a condition could hide for so long. However, they were certain that I had this strange, incurable disease for quite some time. As my parents and the doctor discussed medications and symptoms, I tried to listen in for a while. I gave up after a while; the list of medications and warnings did nothing but depress me and make my head hurt. With nothing to do while the doctor droned on, I looked out the window at the bare trees, wishing that spring would color the branches with a vibrant green.

My classmates came to see me at first, though I scarce cared to see most of them. Without even speaking to them, I knew that most merely came as a matter of social obligation, treating me as if I was a summer assignment; troublesome, and to be finished and forgotten immediately. I cared for the company of the few friends I had only slightly less; their awkward conversation and embarrassed gestures felt insulting and cold, piercing me. Though Iwanako was the one person who seemed to really care, I knew that she would leave. The minute she heard the word "incurable," I saw the small glimmer of hope in her eyes vanish, as if it had burnt out. Soon after, she began to act just like all my other classmates. With that, I was finally alone, in a cold, sterile room, with only my thoughts and pain.

I began reading, asking for any books my parents could scrounge up, as well as finding any books in the hospital. The stories I read kept me sane, if only as sane as a starving man living off of rotting carrion. I felt as if I was going to wither away in my room, forgotten and alone. Perhaps if I had not met my rescuer, I might have.

I almost didn't meet my rescuer, loathe I am to admit it. I had been hungry that day, and none of the other nurses had answered my pleas for a snack, citing "health concerns" and "dietary needs." As I laid back after my third attempt to get some food, I noticed a nurse hurriedly walking by my door.

"Excuse me!" I yelled, hoping I could get her attention. Perhaps she would be too busy to check my chart, and just free enough to hunt down a sandwich. I could not see her, for she was quick, passing my door so fast I wondered if she was truly there.

"I hate to be a bother, but could you pick me up a Ruben or something?" I said, half believing that the nurse was a figment of my imagination. Dejected, I slumped back on my bed and picked up another book. I had all but forgotten about the nurse until a piece of toasted bread poked my face. Without a word of thanks, or even a glance at what exactly I was being offered, I grabbed the sandwich and tore into it as if I had been stranded on an island for years. I must have looked hilarious, judging from the peal of laughter that accompanied my feeding frenzy. Hurriedly gulping down my meal, I turned to thank the angel that had blessed me with such a gift.

"...Antlers."

The word tumbled out of my mouth as I looked at the nurse. She had a pair of antlers, too-large doe eyes, and...was that a tiny tail I saw? All my thoughts of politeness flew out the window, replaced by utter chaos. Why did she have antlers? What's with the tail? Wait, aren't males the ones who have antlers? I looked closer, thinking that I had read too much, or that my medication had made me hallucinate, or something. As I tried to absorb her...features, she gave me a look that seemed to be one part entertainment to two parts assessment. After a moment, she smiled, happiness seeming to radiate from her very being.

Her name was Thurbcorbbe de Milo Suzuki Mio Oboe, and she was a pooka.

It was hard to accept at first: The thought of a secret world of magic, dreams and faeries seemed unbelievable by any standard; a fact which I brought up early on. Yet every time I brought up the subject of impossibility, Mio would smile as if enjoying a private joke before producing something wondrous, like a tiny dragon, or a gun that would shoot impossibly large gobs of gum. She patiently guided me, teaching me about the world of glamour, the chrysalis and how it had affected me, as well as enemies, banality and politics. She did have a penchant for being vague at times, which drove me up the wall. The worst of these vague areas was the discussion of what kind of faerie I was. She did affirm that I was indeed a faerie, but not a pooka like her, a fact that seemed to make her sad. I soon found myself happier than I had been in ages, eagerly waiting for the next lesson of the faerie world.

I did not expect the subject of schooling to come up; I viewed the lessons Mio taught me as all the schooling I needed. The fateful day the doctor and my parents came to visit, I felt a twinge of terror. Was something wrong? Did I have another condition? Was I being transferred? The mood seemed somber enough, though I wondered how much of that was due to my doctor's atrophied bedside manner. Sitting down, he produced a medical chart out of thin air, and looked at it seriously for a moment before turning to me.

"Hello, Hisao. How are you doing today?"

"Fine, I suppose. What's going on?"

"Well, your parents and I were discussing schooling. We felt that with your...condition, you shouldn't return to your old school."

"...Eh?" King of wit, that's me.

"We feel that returning to your old school would be...ill advised, in your current state. One of the nurses here suggested a school that works with people that have...various conditions."

Great, a school for disabled people. '...Just like myself,' my mind softly crooned, eager to further depress me.

"Wait, which nurse recommended this school?" I said, my mind desperately trying to stall, as if the subject would be dropped if I didn't think about it.

"...Mmm, nurse Suzuki, I believe. She said that after spending time with you, she felt that a transfer would be good for you."

My mind is soared, I walked on clouds. If Mio recommended it, then it must be some secret faerie base, or a...what did she call it? A eyrie? No matter, things were looking better by the second.

"There's a twenty-four hour nursing staff, and it's only a few minutes away from a highly regarded general hospital."

The reality of my situation entered, eager to bludgeon my small shred of hope into submission.

"You could think of it as a boarding school of sorts."

I could think that trains are made of bread, but that doesn't change the reality of the situation.

"Of course, that's only if you want to go. But...your mother and I aren't able to home school you." My dad piped in, an air of tenseness apparent on his features.

I wanted to yell and protest. I knew, however, that what they say is true; I can't go back to my old school. Not when the slightest jolt could kill me. Maybe, if I charged forward with reckless abandon, I could adjust before depression set in. Plus, a clean slate could be nice, especially with this whole "World of Glamour" issue.

"Okay. Sounds fine, I suppose." I said with a shrug.

"Alright." The doctor said with the same placid tone he always used. "In fact, nurse Suzuki is going to be traveling in that direction on hospital business. Perhaps she could take you..."

The doctor's voice fades, and I am suddenly snapped out of my reverie by a sickly wet sensation in my ear. Sputtering, I take two steps back, waving my hands around my head. My mentor and tormentor grins at me like a sick hyena, hopping backwards while quickly hiding a glistening finger behind her back.

"Well, are you going to move, or stand around like a lump?"

I grumble, vainly trying to dry my ear. "Alright, alright, I'm moving." I look at the iron gates looming over me. Looking through the gate yields a view of a very plain looking boarding school, though the buildings are made of brick, not gray cement. I sigh, take out a rag to ward my hands, and push.

Colors explode in front of my face, countless oddities float by. Winged cats fly by, singing Wagner, while odd mechanical...things duck behind trees. The sky is like a multi-hued mist, blanketing the tops of buildings and trees. What grabs my attention the most, though, is the main building. Where a brick edifice stood, now stands a impossibly large emerald castle, spires and turrets poking out almost at random. I dimly remember what the school looked like before I opened the gate, but I can scarcely believe that such a plain edifice could become so grand. ...Is this really a school?

My mouth drops open, and won't close. I can't tear my eyes away from the alien beauty of this place, and the wondrous creatures therein. I feel Mio pull up beside me, almost bouncing with mirth and glee. Moving in front of me, her shit-eating smile suddenly morphs into a elegant bow that somehow contained no hint of her usual shenanigans.

"Welcome," She intones, with no hint of mirth, "To Freehold Yamaku."

*Disclaimer*
I have not written anything in years, and decided to try and dust off my skills writing this experimental piece. I tend to write formally when nervous. I am fully aware that this fic ignored the issue of the Saining, the technocracy controlling all of Japan, and the issue of traditional changelings in the eastern WW setting. Should I decide to write another chapter to this story, I will visit some of these issues. Lastly, I made this as long as I did for two reasons:
1. To entail the circumstances of Hisao in order to build upon the story, time and interest pending.
2. To see how many "tl:dr" responses I get.
(*Note* One of these reasons is a lie.)

[EternalLurker]

I made this as long as I did for two reasons:
1. To entail the circumstances of Hisao in order to build upon the story, time and interest pending.
2. To see how many "tl:dr" responses I get.
(*Note* One of these reasons is a lie.)

in that case, "tl:dr"

'midoinitrite

First, to get them off my chest...There's a minor typo when the doctor mentions that Mio recommended the school. "My mind is soared" Another one: in the trains-of-bread line, "doesn't" should be the past tense "wouldn't".

Anywho. This looks like it'll be amusing. Write more. Can't judge much yet with only backstory written so far. Writing style's good, but plot pacing and the like are more important and can't be shown until we get into the not-school.

I must say I was initially worried, by the way, when the driver had volume control issues and a sense of humor that solely revolved around torturing Hisao. Though I guess Misha as driver would probably have meant less Misha in school, which would've made up for it.

Oh, and make an account, will you?

[Smoku]

When I read about the driver, suddenly a vision of Shizune with an evil grin, in a limo driver uniform, in a gray limo, jumped into my mind. and it looked cool. I have no idea why. But it sounds like a Misha indeed.

And in the middle of the story I went "Wait, what?" and had a feeling that the writer suddenly started smoking weed
But the story is fun. and the writing style is nice. Please, go on. and make an account, yea

Btw is this whole changeling thing a reference to some kind of anime/ manga or mythology? I'm green...

[kosherbacon]

IIRC a Pooka is a shapeshifter from Celtic mythology.

Keep it going, dude. This is quite interesting.

And I could totally go for a Ruben right now.

[EternalLurker]

It's about the World of Darkness, an RPG setting from White Wolf. Changeling is one of their settings, though to people who aren't as familiar with WW they're probably more known for Vampire: The Masquerade/Redemption/etc and the Werewolf and Mage settings.

[Smoku]

Wow. I indeed knew vampire, warewolf and mage pretty good. and the new World of Darkness (where you simply play as humans...) and I also heard of Wraith. but not this. cool! go on!

[Beld]

Oh, and make an account, will you?

FINE, GEEZ.

I honestly wasn't quite sure how this would turn out, what with atrophied writing skills and a massive wussy streak impeding my writing/posting, but I'm glad that it has a few favorable reviews. Many thanks all around. I've already started writing the next bit, and will post it when I can.

As to the typos, I have a dirty confession: I wrote the story on notepad. When it came time to post, proofreading was thrown out the window in favor of format editing. Still, due to my dyslexia (Or my dysgraphia, if one were to get technical) there were a lot of typos that I cleaned up beforehand, so I'm happy that there were only a few. Thank god for spell check, I suppose.

And as for the driver's sense of humor, I found that as I wrote for her, I began to envision her as Unseelie (The darker version of the fae) rather than the traditional Seelie pooka. The more I thought about it, the more sense it made (To me, at least), so I ran with it.