Morning Chapter 1
You slowly open your eyes, adjusting to the morning light creeping in through blinds. Glancing towards your desk you check the time. 5:58 AM and once again you're up before your alarm. Immediately your mind starts its usual race; midterm exam in 3 hours 12 minutes, bag packed, need: shower food clothes, leaves an hour for exercise and twenty minutes to spare. You briefly contemplate simply rolling back over but you pass on the idea; your body won't break its disjointed schedule unless you make an effort and your frequent napping has been causing you problems of late. Reaching for your meds you pop two pills in your mouth and wash them down with the canteen sitting on your desk. The familiar taste of powdered iron leaves you longing for the plastic cafeteria food you're normally forced to subsist on.
"Thank god" you think to yourself as you realize you still have two self cooking MRE's in the back of your mini-fridge.
Reaching past the various bottles of liquid drugs you grasp for a milk carton as your alarm finally goes off. The sounds of smooth jazz fill your room as you set the kettle to boil. You've been at the academy for less than a semester but given your erratic, and often excessive sleep habits the time has seemed much shorter. After a quick shower you slip on your jacket, stuffing the tie into one of the pockets. Your bag, a small surplus recon pack sits ready by the door. You fasten it at your side, taking a second to adjust the nametape that reads "SASAKI". It's now 7AM and with your tea in one hand and your MRE in the other you set out to find a suitable spot for your morning workout.
- >[x] roof
>[] grounds
>[] fuck it sleepy time
Nibbling at your delicious eggy ration you make your up to the roof of the main building. It ought to be secluded and you've always enjoyed your privacy. You definitely appreciate the setting; the one perk of this new school is that it’s given you some breathing room from your condition. The halls are mostly empty at this hour, and feeling a bit eccentric you switch your mp3 player to a selection of your favorite tracks from the metal gear solid series. Checking to make sure no one is watching, you gulp down your remains of your meal and clutch your pack; this is now a sneaking mission. You increase your pace as you stalk through the halls, checking each corner carefully and ensuring a silent footfall at every step. The tension builds further as near your objective, finally breaking into an outright sprint as the music transitions to a chase track. Breaching into the utility stairwell you pause to assess your surroundings; blue purple and pink.
"Crap", you sputter as the world phases into a spectrum of bizzaro hues.
Resting against the hand rail you concentrate on your breathing, using the techniques Nurse-kun taught you to oxygenate your blood. This momentary lapse soon passes and you work your way up the stairs towards the roof, albeit at a slower pace. Finally reaching the top of the stairs you realize the door to the roof is locked.
- >[] fuck it
>[x] dynamic entry
>[] check pack for tools
Sizing up the door you take note of its worn hinges and cheap lock. It's solid metal but set into an old wood frame and shouldn’t put up much resistance. Hesitating momentarily you check to see if the coast is clear before turning your attention back to your poorly crafted adversary. Bracing yourself against the railing you kick out. A satisfying crunch echoes through the stairwell as the frame around the lock splinters. Giving way the door swings open to reveal a beautiful half lit sky. The damage done is modest enough to diminish your guilt at committing what would surely be called “reckless vandalism” by anyone of authority. It was purely justified however; the door stood between you and your physical well being.
Dropping your pack to prop open the door you step out onto the gravel roof. The dull hum of the ventilation systems greets your arrival as you inspect your surroundings. The school's roof is desolate; a single bench and only a low chain link fence separating you from an impressive view of the small town below. The pristine grounds are still except for a lone female figure sprinting down the track. You'd better get to work.
You begin with some light stretches and cardio, mixing the breathing techniques Nurse-kun showed you with your foggy memories of martial arts practice. You focus solely on maintaining a moderate heart rate, nothing too strenuous. Shadow sparring was never something you were confident enough to do publicly, but the peaceful seclusion of the roof has proven to be useful. You ought to make a habit out of coming here, you think to yourself. With your circulation thoroughly pumping you once again open your pack, withdrawing a small auto injector loaded with the trial drugs that have afforded such freedom in the last few months. Moving through the routines of sterilization you administer the meds into your left arm before storing everything neatly back into your medical compartment.
Checking your watch its 7:45, you have over an hour before your exam.
- >[] head down anyways
>[x] study
>[] quick nap
It couldn’t hurt to go over a few things while you still have time. Sprawling out on the solitary park style bench you take a moment to ease your weary muscles. You normally avoid cramming hours before a test but you’re already comfortable with most of the material. Instead you decide to simply quiz yourself, getting your mind in gear and perhaps shaking off some of the effects of exhaustion. Reclining back you casually browse your notebook, barely noticing your gradual loss of awareness. Perhaps you are just experiencing some yet undiscovered side effect of your medication. Either way you are confused by a sudden snap back into consciousness triggered by the mid morning bell. It is broad daylight and apparently you’ve been sleeping for well over two hours. Scrambling to gather your things it dawns on you that you are now significantly behind on your midterm.
You try your best to get to class as quickly as possible, ignoring the prohibitions on running within the hallways. You take care to slow down as you reach your floor, trying to hurriedly catch your breath before walking into room 3-3. The class is already absorbed in their individual tests, only Mutou looks up at you with an expression that is both questioning and disapproving. Cringing you approach him ready to explain the situation but he simply forwards you a booklet before his gaze shifts back to the pile of unmarked work sitting on his desk. Sighing you take your seat and dig into the test, starting from the back of the package and the most valuable questions. Biology and human physiology are thankfully your strongest subjects and the midterm puts up little resistance as you breeze through it. You manage to finish the entire package well before the lunch bell.
You’re about to leave when suddenly your path is blocked by another student. It’s the pink one with the stupid hair, Mikado if you remember correctly. Quickly assessing the room you realize all other avenues of escape are blocked by slow files of students handing in their work.
“Wahahaha~! Not so fast Toshi-chan”
- >[] Hear Misha out
>[] Brush her off
>[x] Escape plan Alpha
You mentally sort through your inventory for anything that could possibly get you out of this situation. Wait, there’s a piece of tinfoil left over from your breakfast! You quickly reach into your bag and crumple it into a ball as Misha starts babbling about punctuality. Flashing this shinny object in front of her eyes you roll it across the adjacent desk and across the floor. She stops speechless, her attention following your impromptu distraction device and leaving the perfect opportunity to escape. You sidestep past her as she loses her train of thought and break for the door, however mere inches from the exit you feel a small hand on your shoulder. It’s Hakamichi, no doubt about to deliver another needless lecture on fulfilling one’s academic obligations and not sleeping through a midterm. You surrender gently as she waves Misha over and starts rapidly conversing in signs with her translator.
“Mr. Sasaki, the president would like to remind you of your promise to make more of an effort to be on time for your classes”, Misha begins to dictate in a voice too emphatic to take seriously.
“I’m sorry Mikado but I don’t remember us being on speaking terms”, you reply coldly.
Misha’s breaks from her official character immediately, jumping to apologize once again for a previous encounter that has left you somewhat at odds.
“Toshi-chan! I told you already I was sorry about destroying that book of yours, it was an accident!”, she wines.
You attempt to squeeze past but Hakamichi moves to block the aisle.
“The President wants to remind you...”, Misha starts up again. Ignoring her you whip out your cellular and turn to Shizune.
“You can text right?”, you ask.
She stops signing, momentarily confused by your direct address before seeming to get the idea. The two of you exchange numbers while Misha carries on in a tone you’ve gradually learned to tune out. Leaving class 3-3 you’re phone begins to vibrate as it receives a message.
“Just try to be on time, also no phones in class –S.H.”
Shizune seems to understand your unusual circumstances; you’ve proven to be a solid student forced into a difficult position. Your condition has left your attendance record spotty but the administration has recognized this and you’ve been granted some flexibility. You appreciate Shizune’s discretion in the matter, wondering if her usual tone is merely a result relying of Misha for communication. You turn your attention to lunch.
- >[x] Cafeteria
>[] Scavenge for rations in your fridge
Noon Chapter 1
Despite your depreciative talk, the cafeteria food is far superior to what would constitute average. Taking your place in the queue you’re momentarily tempted to comment on the unfortunate train of students before you. Physical disability was something you’d always done your best to ignore, out of some kind of mutual respect for the self conscious. However, here at the Academy it’s taken some getting used to. You haven’t really gone out of your way to make any friends you reflect, pondering your hidden prejudices. It has been a somewhat lonely few months, but you’ve found it easy to focus your time on work in this new environment. Your grades have gone up noticeably, but between sleeping, homework and mindless doodles you haven’t accomplished much to be proud of. Avoidance, you conclude. Maybe it was good fortune that Misha ruined that sketchbook of yours with her oafishness. Perhaps it’s even time to ease your attitude towards her?
- >[] Yea you’re probably right
>[x] Naw dude
Forget it, you’re not usually sentimental but that sketchbook was a priceless journal of your thoughts, as useless as they were. Your gut evaluations of people have usually always been right. Misha is not the type of person you’d want pestering you in the long term and you shudder at the thought of any student unfortunate enough to fall into the sights of that pair. On the other hand, Shizune by herself has always been respectable if not cordial. Texting should be more than enough to keep an effective working relationship, as minimal as it currently is.
“Can I help you?”, the server asks.
Of course, food; the reason you came. Still lost in your thoughts you end up loading your canteen with the soup de jour and mixing in the powdered contents of from your once daily pouch of medical supplements. Shaking the contents for a thorough mix you begin the search for someplace to enjoy it. The cafeteria is crowded with groups of students and half full tables, none of which seem inviting. Ironically you end up drifting out of the cafeteria and back to the isolation of the roof.
Ascending the stairs you notice the rooftop door stands closed with a small “Out of order” sign leaning against it. Your early morning break and enter has been treated with a comical level of custodial attention, the staff going as far as to have cordoned off the entire door with caution tape. Clearly safety is a pressing issue at the Academy. Brushing away the markers of the crime scene you step out into the warmth and take a seat on one of the large air conditioning units. Gazing out at the field below you observe the lunch hour activities, which at this distance seem no different than your previous school. You crank up your music as you leisurely finish your portable meal, eventually sprawling out on your back to let out a lengthy and self indulgent burp.
The clouds are nice today, also there’s some upside down girl staring at you.
Momentarily confused you turn and right yourself to see a female student in Academy dress clearly in the midst of her lunch only a few meters from where you are seated.
“Nice one, I think that must have registered on a Richter scale somewhere”, she giggles as you pull out an earphone.
- >[x] Thanks
>[] Sorry about that
“Uh, thanks. They’ll probably be an encore in a few minutes if you’re sticking around”.
“That sounds like a challenge to me”, she replies smiling.
“I never thought I’d hear that in polite company”, you chuckle.
A young student with golden hair tied into twin locks smiles intently towards you. She’s noticeably short but has a face whose brightness demands pause for attention. You don’t recognize her for it however, but her legs; prosthetic from below the knees strike you as familiar. It’s an odd picture, her slender feminine figure interrupted by what looks to be a finely engineered set of athletic carbon fiber limbs. They do nothing to detract from her appearance however, and you find yourself surprisingly enamoured with her playful attitude.
“There’s nothing to be shy about. Belching is a natural part of a healthy digestive system”, she replies in a matter-of-factly tone.
You brain finally clicks as her figure finds its place in your memory. “I think I’ve seen you running through the halls before” you say, still distracted by her light heartedness.
“Yea that sounds like me”, she replies blushing slightly. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before “Sasaski”, she’s starring at your bag.
“It’s Toshi, and yea I’m not usually up here much. I’ve only been here a semester”, you respond.
“Emi”
“Huh?”
“Emi IbAAAARRRRRRazaki”, her name blends with a belch you’re surprised could be emitted by a creature this small. The rooftop echoes with a moment of silence before both break out into laughter.
“With a stomach like that I’m surprised I didn’t notice you earlier”, you reply visibly impressed while also observing she seemed to have set out a meal for an absent guest.
“It’s ashamed your friend missed that”, you add.
“Hmm? Oh right”, she says looking towards the empty space beside her. “She’s probably caught up in a project, she gets stuck in her own world sometimes. Would you like her sandwich?”, she offers holding out the spare package.
“Oh, no I’m alright. Besides I think I’m at my limit for now”, you reply while patting your stomach to illustrate.
“Are you sure? Liquid lunches can’t be that good for you, your body needs roughage!”, she says enthusiastically “...Unless you’re training for something?”.
“Not exactly, it’s like a dietary thing. It’s easier to mix my meds into soup, but thanks for the advice”, you respond positively while side stepping the subject of your personal medical issues.
“So I guess you’re in class 3-3 then?”, she asks.
“Mutou yea, but how’d you figure that? Is it because I look depressed and exhausted from his torturous exam?”, you ask jokingly.
“No you look great, but I wouldn’t blame most of his students for feeling like that”, she laughs.
“I meant you’re not in my class, so you must be in Mutou’s since you don’t seem to have any vision problems”, she pauses, “although you didn’t notice the only other person up here for most of the lunch hour so maybe you are from 3-2.”, she adds teasingly.
“Funny”, you reply with friendly sarcasm. “I was exaggerating about Muotu though, he’s not that bad”.
“Well most of us won’t be laughing when we get our midterms back.”, Emi sighs.
Your conversation is cut short by the afternoon bell.
“I guess I’d better get going then”, you say while fastening your bag, “I’ve got a feeling I’m on Mutou’s shit list today”.
“You’re probably not the only one”, she giggles still nibbling delicately at her lunch.
“Uh, don’t you have class?”, you ask.
“Nope, excused for track practice this afternoon”, she beams.
“Well good luck with that Emi”, you say dusting yourself off and slowly departing.
“See you around then Toshi”, she replies.
“Yea later”, you wave back, happy at having received a compliment from a cute girl.
Heading back to class you slip in with the crowd of other students. The afternoon lecture is uneventful, but you find yourself distracted enough to consume an entire page of otherwise pristine notes with random sketches and meaningless doodles. By the end of the day you curse not having your coveted little sketchbook with you, if only to provide some relief for your standard notebook. Another half semester at this pace and you’ll probably find studying for exams more difficult than it should be. The bell finally rings and the class begins to file out. You remember you’re about due for a check in with the Nurse sometime tonight. You’ve also got a pile of work sitting on your desk that has accumulated due to your napping. So where to now?
- >[] Head to the Nurse’s office
>[] Back to your room, dig into your work
>[x] Physical activity, get tired so maybe you can stick to a normal sleep schedule
Afternoon Chapter 1
You'd decide to change into something less restrictive and blow off some steam. Cutting across the lawn you make your way back to the men's dorm building, eventually finding your way to the floor you share with a half dozen other students. There’s a faint smell of lightly medicated paranoia in the air, and you hear a door slam closed as you enter the corridor. If your instincts are correct, your hallmate Kenji is probably worked up over something trivial. Walking towards your room at the end of the hall you hear his door spring open behind you.
“Sasaki!”, he cries.
“What’s up?”, you ask indifferently, not bothering to turn around.
“I saw a suspicious person go into your room with a package”, he pauses taking a breath for dramatic effect; “and he didn’t leave with it. That was two hours ago I just felt I should warn you before I let you go in there”, he adds following you to your door.
“My online order must have arrived, and don’t you ever go to class Kenji?”, you ask.
He smirks, sliding a finger to adjust his glasses. “That’s just what they’d expect”.
You don’t bother pursuing the issue further. Unlocking the door Kenji tenses visibly. To ease his paranoia you wave him back, sliding your hand along the door frame checking for tripwires. There are of course none. Walking inside you notice he’s still standing by your door.
“Anything else?” you question.
“Did order those supplies I asked you for?”, he asks abruptly.
Of course, you’d almost forgotten. Kenji had already paid you upfront in cash. Slicing open the large box sitting on your bed you rummage through for his item, a sizeable pouch of powered magnesium from a chemistry supply outfit.
“I’m not going to ask what this is for”, you mumble tossing him his prize.
“Security measures, I’ve already got all the other ingredients for a-“, you shut the door before he can finish a sentence you’re probably better off not knowing.
Turning your attention back to the delivery you begin to pack the contents away. It contains new webbing to repair some worn strips on your pack but it’s mostly food stuffs; MRE’s and your powdered nutritional supplements. You’re not much of a cook you realize, struggling to fit several dozen of these pre-packaged meals into the chest at the foot of your bed. Most importantly this delivery contains the particular tea your mornings have become so dependent on; an Asian variety brewed sweetly enough to make even the worst mornings tolerable.
With your housekeeping momentarily done you quickly change into some clean clothes and head outside.
Hoping to finally synchronize your schedule with the rest of the school you decide to burn off some energy. If you can get a decent workout maybe you’ll finally have a good night’s sleep. You begin weighing your options as you head outside. The Academy has a pool, though you don’t have any swimwear. There’s also a track, but the thought of running in circles doesn’t seem like it would hold your interest for more than five minutes. You recall the games you witnessed during the lunch hour and presence of a basketball court, among other things, just behind the main building. With any luck you’ll be able to join a pickup game.
As you draw near the courts you can definitely hear a commotion. You observe a handful of the more “intact” students in the midst of a half court game, conveniently a single man short. Unfortunately you don’t seem to know any of them, except for one.
“Hey Nakai! Up for some friendly competition?”, you yell recognizing your dorm neighbour from down the hall.
He waves you in as you drop your things on a nearby bench. Teaming up with the losing side you’re determined to swing the odds.
- >[] Use your technical skills, they won’t see what hit them
>[] Use your aggression, they’ll at least feel what hit them
>[x] Use the force, strategy will win the day
Focusing your breath you center your mind on your adversaries; following their movements, evaluating their technique and predicting their reactions.
You can read them like a book. With every shot and signal they reveal more and more to you as the game continues. It’s not long before it seems like you are working several seconds ahead of them in real time. You quickly assume a leadership role, barking orders and signaling movements to the rest of your team. They seem to pick up on it quickly, and your cooperation allows you all to pull ahead. Leading by a substantial margin, the game is finally called in your favor. You’re quite tired by the end of it all, but fortunately you seem to have avoided overexerting yourself to the point where your medical symptoms would normally manifest. This proves to be a victory in itself, and if you manage to get a good night’s sleep then all the better.
“Good game Sasaki”, Nakai slaps you on the back as your two teams exchange pleasantries.
“Yea thanks man. I’ll see you around”, you reply.
Nakai seems to be in genuinely good spirits, and his performance today was admirable. You can’t help but wonder what’s brought him to the Academy, though it’s really none of your business. As the group drifts away from the court you decide to head back to your room and get changed.
Cutting back across the front lawn you make your way to the men’s dorm building once again. You eagerly anticipate the feeling of a cool shower and fresh shirt, pushing back the nagging anxieties about your evening appointment and the pile of work waiting on your desk. The afternoon sun drenches the dorm halls producing a timeless ambiance that you find mind-numbing. All it really does is expose just how much dust is in the air once you’re inside the building, a fact you find slightly ironic considering the attention normally paid to cleanliness at this school. You can't really complain about your living space however. You'd been fortunate enough to land a single occupancy room with en-suite bath at the start of the year conveniently located on the first floor of the building. While you don't consider yourself reclusive or germaphobic you often remind yourself thankfully of this small measure of independence. Unusual neighbours and a boringly lit hallway seem like only a small price to pay, but these factors combine to present you with an unexpected situation as you near your room:
The afternoon light illuminates quite clearly a translucent tripwire, suspended suspiciously across the width of the hallway next to a radiator and few feet from Kenji’s door. Makes perfect sense.
- >[] Ignore, step over, not your problem
>[x] Evaluate, attempt to disarm
You instinctively freeze mid step and scrutinize the rest of the hall. Besides the lone wire there doesn't appear to any secondary or fail-safe devices.
“What is this kid thinking?”, you sigh aloud.
Confident you are in no additional danger you carefully lower yourself towards the floor to perform a more detailed inspection. A length of very fine gauge fishing wire is tied in a hasty knot to a small hook embedded in the wall beside Kenji's door. Gently tracing the wire with a single finger tip you follow it to the radiator opposite the hall which he appears to have wedged something behind. Fumbling momentarily through your bag you illuminate the cramped space with your keyring flashlight, revealing what t can only be described as an odorous bundle of junk wrapped in newspaper and stuffed between the heater and the wall. It doesn’t seem particularly dangerous, but knowing Kenji it could be some kind of horribly messy concoction designed to mark the phantom conspirators that stalk him. A quick snip from your pocket multi-tool renders the device inert, or so you hope. Further investigation doesn’t seem worth your time or clean laundry.
The dorm greets you with its familiar smells as you dump your gear on the couch and strip out of your moist clothes. After a quick shower and a change the emptiness of the room is suddenly very stifling. You feel rather unmotivated with the weight of the day’s epiphanies nagging the back of your mind. Cracking open the window you admire the fine weather of late spring and decide to indulge in a bit of procrastination. You don’t have much to amuse yourself with, besides your school life and medical essentials your room is rather barren. A stereo that can never be played at full volume and a laptop computer with only sporadic internet access represent the extent of your recreational belongings. How is a person supposed to fit his or her entire life into a single room? You wonder, but for some reason using your leisure time to fret over your material existence isn’t very relaxing. Instead you turn on some light jazz music and try to distract yourself with a good book. This strategy manages to provide you with an hour or so of clarity. You’ve always found you were most content while learning or doing something productive, not that you consider yourself a workaholic, rather far from it. However you do find yourself wishing you had something more substantial do to with your time.
Finally satisfied with your mental decompression you turn your attention to the neat stack of homework sitting at your desk. It’s not really much work but your neglect has left you in the unpleasant situation of having to plow through it in a single sitting. Not letting yourself get comfortable you dive straight in, only taking momentary breaks to fetch supplies from across the room. After an hour or two you find your mind drifting as it had earlier, and your otherwise neat workbook is once again encroached upon by a swelling margin of Imperial infantry. Moving everything else aside you begin to search your shelves for the remains of your sketchbook. The tome is heavily water damaged thanks to chance and Misha’s formidable hand-eye coordination, but thankfully it has finally dried out.
- >[] Assess damage
>[x] Attempt repair
The what seems like an ordinary black sketchbook sits innocuously on your desk. At first glance its psudeo-leather exterior appears to be in fair condition, only lightly buckled from its unfortunate treatment. You stare at it apprehensively for a few moments as a sickening feeling builds in your gut. What you find so disturbing are the thick blooms of ink visible along the volume's fore-edge, and like a trauma victim bearing the telltale signs of some horrible wound; you know the damage will be much worse on the inside. Drawing was never something you did with intention, but rather it served as a medium for you thoughts, something to keep your mind clear and your hands busy. Fragments of dreams and nightmares were a recurring subject, fantastical images easily forgotten but recorded in lead for some yet unrealized purpose. This particular volume held several dozen pages spanning your last few months at home right through your introduction to the academy, irreplaceable information, snapshots of your stream of consciousness. You're not normally sentimental about material goods, ideas on the other hand are precious.
You work carefully to restore some rigidity to the exterior form using thick tape, and it seems to work well. After cracking open the volume however you realize you’ve unintentionally split several pages; their scribbles peeling off onto each other. The thought losing so many of your sketches to such a careless accident makes you grimace. You try your best to separate the warped pages without destroying the contents, but it proves to be a difficult task. At least some of the material seems salvageable but a great deal is completely beyond recognition; the water mixing your creations into light swirls and heavy puddles of lead. Like a researcher trying to preserve some ancient text you work to restore some of the drawings to their former glory. You manage to clean up some of the more recent and intact work, however the task proves to be beyond your limited selection of tools. Perhaps with a kneaded eraser and shield, or maybe even a brush, you might be able to restore a fair portion of the volume. Unfortunately you have none of these handy, but decide to keep your eyes open around campus.
Evening Day 1
Checking your watch you realize it’s about time you headed over to see the head nurse; you’re due for the weekly blood tests that go with your medical trials. Grabbing only the bare minimum, your keys and medpack, you leave the men’s dorm and slog back to the main building. The halls around the hospital wing are strangely quiet at this time, usually the scene of ongoing medical drama that would rival any poorly written TV soap. Hospital type atmospheres were always something you’ve enjoyed. Whereas most individuals would probably be somewhat phobic of hospital visits, especially from extended and life threatening episodes at an early age, you’ve always found them very welcoming. That homey nostalgia surfaces again as you step into the waiting area of Nurse-kun’s office. The aroma of coffee in a usually sterile room is striking; it looks like you’re not the only one having trouble staying awake during the appropriate hours. Seeing the office empty you call out.
“Just a minute Sasaki”, you hear the head Nurse’s voice from behind some shelves.
He emerges a minute later with a filing box and motions for you to take a seat in an examination chair.
“Perfect timing, I just got back in the office”, he smiles in his usual fiendish way.
“Well I swung by for that blood sample you needed”, you reply already rolling up your sleeve.
“That time already? Of course, of course. How have you been feeling? Still having energy problems? Any headaches or cramps?”, he asks while gathering up the appropriate instruments.
“Not really”, you begin. “My endurance seems to be improving and I’m not oversleeping as much as I was. Still having trouble keeping to a normal schedule though, it seems to come and go.”
“-and what about the administration of the drugs? You’re still fine doing it yourself?”, he asks while beginning to draw blood.
“Yea it’s no trouble. I’d rather just handle it myself than have to bother you every day”, you reply taking care to look away as the sample vials are filled.
“You’re a tough kid Sasaki”, the Nurse replies. “Just be sure you keep taking your supplements. I’ll run your haemoglobin levels and do thorough assessment over the next few days. If you have any problems besides sleeping normally, I want to know”, his face taking on a sudden but momentary seriousness.
“I understand”, you say applying your own dressing to the site on your arm.
The Nurse steps away to place your samples into a centrifuge, taking no notice of your momentary dizziness as you stand up.
“Mutou-san explained to me you’ve aced your Bio exam today”, he adds nonchalantly.
“He’s already marked it?”, you question, astonished a teacher would accomplish something that quickly.
“Just yours, over the lunch hour”, the Nurse responds while setting the device to cycle. “He was curious and thought you’d cheated at first but that wouldn’t really make much sense would it?”.
“So why’d he tell you about it?”, you ask concernedly.
The nurse turns to face you once again. “Well”, he begins while leaning back against the counter. “I know I’m not your counselor or anything, but have you thought about premed or something similar for next year?”, he pauses to gauge your reaction. “Application deadlines are coming up you know”.
Though the news is flattering you find it somewhat unsettling that your teachers would be discussing matters such as this without your knowledge. The Head Nurse can tell he’s made you a bit uncomfortable.
“Tell you what; I’ve been looking for a student to give me a hand around here. Just some little things, paper work, simple tests, nothing where you’d have to treat anyone or handle personal information. I’d rather give the position to someone who’s at least considering a future in a Biomed field. It doesn’t pay but you’d get a recommendation from me for your application, and trust me; that’s no small thing coming from this school”.
“Uhh wow, I wasn’t expecting that. This is kind of a lot to process...”, you begin.
“Well then think on it for a few days before you give me your answer”, he interrupts. “You shouldn’t make decisions about your future lightly, but don’t be afraid when opportunity knocks. You might want to talk to your parents or something”.
“Thanks Nurse-kun, I appreciate the offer. I’ll let you know soon”, you answer.
Great, something else to keep you awake at night. Walking out the door you find yourself a bit light headed from the blood test; just how big was that sample? you wonder. The trip back to the dorm is slowed by the occasional awkward stumble as begin to feel the effects of your daily activities catching up with you. It’s still early in the evening but you’re already exhausted. Flopping backwards onto your sheets you wonder if the cafeteria is still open or if you should simply settle for something from the fridge, but reaching for the door you realize you’re too tired even manage that. Resigning yourself to the bed you try and forget about the magnitude of your upcoming decisions. Next year was something you’ve been dreading having to plan for, even though you’re in a fairly good position. You know exactly what your parents would want, but you aren’t eager to fall back on them for advice. Without noticing sleep quickly overtakes you.
Early Morning - Day 2
Hours later you find yourself wide awake, the soft glow of your nightstand lamp illuminating the room.
“Crap”, once again you’ve woken early, the bedside clock reading just past midnight.
Discouraged by these events you pull yourself out of bed, shivering slightly as you recalibrate the thermostat to a more comfortable level. Your stomach growls as you realize you’ve not only missed your chance for a fresh cooked meal, but also a normal 8AM wakeup. You throw on a warm jacket and turn on some music, keeping it low as not to wake your neighbours. Eyeing your fridge your mind dances with thoughts of steaming bowls of chilli, but with nothing more than a hot plate in your room they are far beyond your reach. The cafeteria has been closed for hours, but you’d kill for some fast food right now. You could either settle for what you’ve got on hand, or if you dare; you could try a late night convenience store run.
- >[x] Fuck yea, worth it
>[] Naw dude, risky
+1 testicular fortitude
Slipping into some dark clothes you formulate a strategy for leaving the school grounds. Security isn’t exactly prison-like here, but you recall there will be at least one staff member watching the main gate and one more making general rounds in addition to those stationed at each dorm. It’s well past the curfew, so you’ve got no chance of negotiating your way past them. Your only chance at deliciousness will require you to get out of the dorm and across the perimeter wall without being spotted. Worst case scenario for getting back in you could go straight to the front gate and say you had fallen asleep in town somewhere, in your case the staff would probably believe it. Grabbing your wallet and stripping down your webbing and pack to all but the minimum tools you slip out the window, leaving it halfway open in case you need a stealthy way back in.
Staying carefully within the shadows below your window you can see the school’s perimeter wall. The moonlight illuminates the distance between you and your goal quite well, and you’re keenly aware that any attempt to cross this open span could easily be spotted. Hugging the exterior of the building you work your way around until you spot a grove of trees that you think you could reach rather simply. What do you do?
- >[x] Observe your surroundings carefully
>[] Seize the opportunity before it’s lost
Pausing to let your eyes adjust to the low light conditions you're fairly sure you can see movement from the grove ahead of you. A brief glimpse of a human form is visible for a fractional moment before disappearing back into the mass of greenery swelling and pulsing in the night breeze. You begin to reconsider the possible consequences of your outing, but the idea of leaving your room only for a brief crawl in the dirt seems far more damaging to your pride than any disciplinary action could possibly be. A thought slowly dawns on you, perhaps you aren’t the only student planning a night on the town? Whoever was lurking nearby was definitely making an effort to remain unnoticed, bringing no light source with them and moving in absolute silence. Surely a staff member wouldn't go through so much trouble? This could only mean one thing, another student is sneaking out after curfew for some personal matter. You're both in the same situation, and perhaps they too are staring you down from a concealed position trying to figure out if you are also a threat. It's a standoff, one you can't afford to let waste your time. You need to move.
Keeping your body as low to the ground as possible you cross the open field and vanish into the brush. You momentarily lose your orientation as you transition into these light woods, nearly tripping over your own feet. Suddenly you’re blindsided by an unknown assailant. The assault lands squarely along your back, a hard tackle knocking you forward and leaving you winded. Spinning to face your attacker you see their form stumble off balance. Caught off guard you frantically swing out, managing to catch the person by the arm; controlling their movement and using it to close the distance between you. You’re taken aback when you hear a female voice gasp, in a combination of surprise and possibly pain. Releasing her wrist you realize the student must have run into you by accident, and quickly activating the small pocket light hanging off your waist you’re shocked to see its Miss Ibarazaki. Dressed in a school jogging outfit, her artificial legs are unmistakable.
“You scared the crap out of me Emi”, you say in a hushed voice. Her eyes momentarily widen with fear before she recognizes your face.
“Oh its only you, I thought I was busted!”, she responds breathless.
“Are you alright? What are you doing running around in the dark?”, you ask eyeing her once over for injuries.
“I could ask you the same thing!”, she snaps, brushing off her jacket and quickly checking her surroundings.
You cut the light and check to see if you’ve been spotted by anyone else. The coast seems clear. Realizing you’re both in somewhat of a compromising position if you’re caught, you decide to choose your words carefully.
“I was just-“, you pause trying to think of an appropriate excuse.
“-Trying to sneak out”, she finishes your sentence for you. “Unless you’re trying to burglarize the school or something”, she cracks.
“Yea I guess that’s the only thing that makes sense, sneaking out I mean”, you reply.
“Don’t worry about it, everyone does it at some point here”, she says reassuringly.
“I was going to get some food in town, maybe do a little shopping, I slept through dinner. Now why are you running around in the woods at night?”, you whisper.
She seems to refrain from making eye contact. “Training, I’ve got a track meet coming up soon”, she blurts out.
Something’s clearly not right. This is definitely an awkward conversation, but something about her behavior doesn’t sit well with you.
- >[] Ignore, change subject
>[x] Question further
End of archive
it's what I did 