The Blind Leading The Blind

[MrBackpack]

“Eeuuugh, it’s all sticky~!”

Best. Line. Ever.

[xaolindragon]

Aaaawww yeeaah. Is it just me or are hints at a yuri plot becoming more and more popular in fan fics? I know there's a few others one that took a story in that direction. Not that I have a problem; it makes everything more interesting. Keep it up!

[scott1and]

Getting really into this now by the way, and the chapters come pretty fast too. 'Tis a good combination it is

[darkmelee]

CONTINUED -

Lilly's really taking her time in there, or she's already on the phone. Either way, I've at least made on more acquaintance at the academy. Misha seems like a good girl, even if she is too loud for her own good, sometimes. I bet she has loads of friends, probably a boyfriend at this point. Sometimes, I wish I could belay my insecurities and just be out there like a normal person; to be social without the anxiety.

Speaking of the anxiety, I'm beginning to worry about it being worse than it was in the past. I've always had issues with being in public, or catching too much attention from others, but this day has put me on the spot several times with a response similar to me being catatonic. That's unhealthy, and I'm riding on the hope that this isn't related to my medication. If it is, then it's only going to get worse as the other meds slowly take its place down the road.

"Do you listen to music and stuff?" Misha asks me, pulling my focus back from the brink. "I have a lot of pop songs and things, but I really like foreign rock."

"I love music." That's an understatement. "I had a ton of albums back home, lots of electronic stuff, mostly. I like pop every now and again, but I prefer complicated sounds, synths and guitars and digital decorations. There doesn't even need to be lyrics if it sounds right. You can say a lot without words."

That's literal, now that I think about it. She speaks with her friend using her hands, not with her voice. Well, she probably still speaks aloud when she does it, but that's beside the point when the other person is unable to listen. Maybe the hand signals are words, but the silence can still carry a meaning that way.

I didn't bring near as much of that CD collection as I should have, but at least my music media player is stocked full of tracks I can zone out to. It's very calming to listen to certain songs and just lie there, thinking. It almost makes depressing thoughts seem more artistic then melancholy, like it's all part of some grand production.

She goes on for a few minutes, just talking about some band I've never heard of. I'm sure they're fine enough, but I really can't feign much interest in what she's talking about here. It doesn't stop her, and she moves on from topic to topic.

Misha's so chatty. It's as if she's never spoken a word, and I've suddenly become her only outlet. We talk about, actually, nothing important. It's easier for me to open up to her than Lilly, but that may be due to Lilly's maternal attitude, whereas Misha gives off the air of a sorority girl, hanging out because it's fun and not because we are required to accomplish something.

This kind of friendly atmosphere is something I previously lacked. I just need to try and not destroy it somehow.

That hidden pressure in my head. That's the part of me that can't handle any sort of comfort. There's always doubt of my ability to sustain anything.

I had a cat at home, Kazu. I was scared of him, the responsibility of feeding him, of being rejected by a cat. In the end, it was commonplace enough to keep up with taking care of him. He treated me the same as the others, if not more appreciatively. He'd just stop on by and plop onto my lap, sometimes falling asleep when all I really wanted to do was go downstairs.

But that thought, that doubt in my mind... it was always there, that I wouldn't be there at some point, that I would betray him somehow.

All that fear over a cat, one that I still abandoned, but I don't doubt that he's in good even least decent care in my absence.

I was the same with people, never wanting to break a bond once created. When I confessed to Asuka, I crossed a boundary, one that I felt could be recanted. It couldn't. I put so much trust into her, hoping that maybe I could come out without harm in doing so. I was wrong, and she wasn't about to accept me as the person I was before. She couldn't place me as the same girl she befriended before. No; she saw me as a problem at that point.

I need to be careful to not overstep my bounds.

"Hey~," Misha calls out. I... can't tell if that was intended for me or not.

I hate to have my name called, but it seems like it's the most logical thing to do when trying to get my attention. Maybe it's not-

"Hey, Naofumi~," she says, this time clearly meaning for my input.

I perk up and turn to her, raising my eyebrows slightly.

"Lilly's coming back~."

I couldn't make out the sounds of her cane until just now, but Lilly is surely making her way toward our table. She's been gone a while, long enough for me to relax like this. I wasn't keen on getting up earlier, but, having had some time to cool down, I could handle getting back to our tour. If I can't figure out the path from the dormitories to at least the cafeteria, I may as well starve to death. If I can manage the main building, then at least I'll die smarter.

I'll be expected to make the Nurse's office trip every morning too, so that's another routine to pile on top of the others.

Lilly arrives by the time I've daunted myself thoroughly. The school's bells toll over the grounds, and she waits until they've finished before speaking to us.

"I'm sorry that it took so long. Thank you for keeping Naofumi company, Misha."

"S'no problem~," Misha says inbetween popping her gum. She doesn't learn lessons quickly, it seems. "You guys ready to go?"

Lilly and I agree, and we get ready to exit. I ask about the trays, but Misha insists that someone picks them up for us.

"Well~, I leave mine all the time, and it's always gone when I come back~."

I could interpret that as laziness on her part, and duty on someone else's. Without contest from Lilly, however, I take the option and leave the tray be for another person to deal with. Misha doesn't strike me as wholly responsible, which has the unfortunate effect of causing a feeling of dread at our following her.

My dread is unfounded, as usual. The dorms are a long walk from the cafeteria though, and that is going to take some getting used to. According to Lilly's plan, we're going to first find my dormitory, which I will use to change my socks for a fresh pair, then make a shot for the main building. We're going to repeat that several times, then alter destination to the cafeteria again. The repetition is necessary for us to remember, although it will be boring retracing the same steps over and over again.

I had serious trouble learning my neighborhood as a child. Even after orientation and mobility lessons, the outside never stayed the same; at least, it felt like that. I hated the uncertainty of it, waiting for several minutes to cross a street because I could never be absolutely sure that there were no vehicles on their way. I would be so certain, but could never trust my own perception until I could only rush in and get it over and done. I once took so long that my stepmother came out looking for me, finding me at a crosswalk when I'd yet to make a move.

She helped me across the lane, and I felt so useless.

And now I'm following someone's lead again.

At least Misha lacks any holdups like our blindness. We keep a decent pace, which is nice. There aren't a lot of turns along the way, which is also a bonus. If I'm noting all of this, then Lilly must be as well. Both of us, trodding along, clacking and sliding our canes across the sidewalk path. The court is quieter now, with only a handful of distant voices reaching me; none so close as to make it out clearly.

Do Student Council members get to simply avoid their classroom responsibilities like this all the time? I ask about it.

"Won't you guys get in trouble for being out like this, instead of being in class?"

"Nah," Misha says quickly, obviously unconcerned. Lilly mentions that they are allowed certain privileges, and that she was granted the day in order to escort me. Misha doesn't explain herself at all, but I'll assume for now that she won't suffer too dearly for this distraction.

A sharp *clap!* cuts the air ahead of me. I slow myself and prop my weight against my cane - which I shouldn't be doing, but the thing's on its way out as it is.

"Here we are~," Misha informs us. That actually didn't take too many turns, but if I screw it up, I'm doomed. Hopefully, further practice will help me totally ingrain the route into my head.

More stairs, apparently. I know there's a ramp somewhere, since this is that sort of place, but I won't waste my time tracking it down. There aren't that many, anyways. After ascending the admittedly small collection of treaded concrete stairs, Misha opens the door and ushers the two of us within.

The smell of paint overtakes me. It's a very pungent scent in comparison to the after-rain air outside. It was mentioned that certain sections might still be unavailable, but Misha assures us that renovations have moved upstairs now.

"The common area and bottom floor are finished~... until they redo the windows, I'm pretty sure. Someone smeared white paint on them on accident, and there's a crack in one, already."

Someone who no longer works here, I'm guessing. If it was because of a student, then they probably get the honor of paying for the replacements or cleaning the paint off by themselves with the weakest removal solution on the market.

If it were meant as an act of vandalism, it's not very dramatic.

There isn't much sound in here, like it's muffled. A light prodding with my cane shows me that the hard tilework at the entrance becomes carper just a few steps away.

"Uhh, should we take off our shoes? I mean, we were out in the rain earlier, and my cane's tip is probably smearing dirt or something..."

"It rained?" Misha asks, oblivious to the weather throughout the day. "Hey, Naofumi~." Misha tugs on my sleeve, simultaneously not answering my question. "What's yer room number, so we can find it?"

Okay; moving on then. I fish out a small punched card from my left pants pocket. These slacks are getting a touch tight in the waist, and it takes some effort to wrangle free. I'm growing out of these clothes, albeit very slowly. My shirt's a little tight even.

That might explain some of the attention I've been receiving.

Holding the card with my left hand and running my right's fingers across the surface, I read aloud its contents, only a short string of textures.

"1-1-2," I say. "I have the keys somewhere in my bag..."

"That's still so cool when you guys do that~."

She makes it sound like Lilly and I are special.

"It's just braille; little bumps for characters. There are a few symbols to clarify when it's numbers and stuff, but it's not that complicated when you're used to it."

Lilly speaks up on the subject. "Not everyone is able to do something like that. It takes training and effort, as well as sensitivity that many people, those who are blind included, are just incapable of accomplishing. Some forms of communication are impossible for people who never rely on them."

I remember Lilly telling me that she was glad I was able to read braille. It makes me wonder how many of my peers lack this skill, unable to understand tactile language like this. If there are those who are losing their sight, or have only just lost it, I can only imagine the grief felt among them as they are forced into a different life entirely. I will never know that transition, but they have my sympathy.

I'm not one to promote this lifestyle highly.

"It's the same with you and sign language, Misha. That's something I can't do, and I'll never need to."

"It's not that hard," Misha replies, sounding a lot like me just moments prior. "Oh, wait. We just had that conversation, didn't we?"

Misha seems to know where we're going, but I'm guiding my hand along the wall to align myself. Secretly, I offer a prayer that the paint itself has dried completely. Lilly is just behind me, the first time today that I haven't been the straggler of the bunch. She's doing as I am, reading along and feeling the wall as we go. Her cane lightly grazes a door with a noticeable sound, but no one calls back; a lucky mishap.

I read the numbers and names as we move along, being sure not to bang my mobility cane against someone's door by mistake. Given the tight corridor, I might not need to use the cane unless I'm heading out. That was a privilege at my home, the freedom to simply feel my way about without relying on the cane. It's not that I despise it or anything, but I enjoyed the ability to wander within my own home without doubt of my surroundings.

Back and back we go, counting upwards. We pass the restroom, which Misha makes sure to acknowledge. I'll explore it later when the need arises. She notes that her own room is far at the back of the hallway, and that we are open to visit anytime. That may be her way of begging for company, but I might be over-analyzing such a common gesture.

"Right here, then," I say, finding my name alongside what must be my new room. Misha passed it up completely. She laughs, and laments her counting ability.

"Wahaha~, I totally overshot it! I can't count for crap sometimes~. You did that cool touchy-feely thing and beat me to it."

I'm sure Lilly wants to comment, but she's staying quiet. I can't think of anything remarkable to, uhh, remark, so I decide my efforts are best placed in finding the room keys so this trip won't be a bust. I sling the shoulder bag more to my front and pop the flap open with little force. I prop my books upward with one hand and search. Prodding around for a bit, I make sure I've covered all possibilities. My fingers explore every centimeter before I come to a realization.

I then pull my hand back out, slide my bag out of the way, and genuinely sigh. I can barely find the motions to express my frustration right now.

"I don't have the keys."

God. Dammit.


______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

oh, naofumi; you irresponsible person, you.

misha's a fan of czech death metal.

this one's a little short (and a little late), only like 2k words or so.
when all of this is finished, i'll go back in and reword/rework a few things and fill it all out better.
my inner perfectionist weeps at everything i've typed up to this point.
still, i've amazed myself so far that i've even managed this much.
i tend to crap out about pretty early on prose works, just stopping without a real reason.
the other two chapters (everything has been individual parts to a single chapter of three) are gonna be done differently, preferably a god deal of time before being posted.
no more of this 'type it up in an hour or two, proofread, and hope that i didn't screw something up major, or repeat a phrase too many times, or write myself into a corner' stuff.

i've had the overall plot in my head for around two years, but i didn't hammer out specifics until the game's release. I know what's going to happen, but i can't wait to get there.

fixed a few tense errs and reworded small bits

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

BAM! got my groove back. probably be up thursday, early morning. sorry about the stall, but i got hit by a load of writer's black and some games i'd wanted to try and play/finish. it might not end up being much longer than normal (if even that), but at least i finally started to get it down again.

again, there might only be one part after the next,two if it ends up like that

thank you for your patience, and also for reading this far!

no, seriously, thanks for paying any sort of attention to a hastily typed fanfic about a blind girl who doesn't exist attending a school that doesn't exist.

[charmisokay]

Another nice (chapter?) Page or what ever anyways, please keep it up

[darkmelee]

CONTINUED -

I'm fuming. I want to punch something, and this door is a viable target.

Lilly tries to calm me. It's futile, but she is one to try.

"Naofumi, it's alright. We'll just need to search where we've been today , and-"

"We've been a lot of places today, Lilly," I cut in abruptly. "They could be anywhere from the cafeteria to the bus I rode in on. Hell, they could very well be back on the second train, or at my house thirty miles away."

I didn’t yell, but I think it may have been more forceful than I intended. I don't mean to be so angry. I'm more upset that I could have fumbled such an rudimentary task so profoundly. Honestly; keys? I couldn't keep track of a set of jingling keys?

Misha offers her hand at searching my bag. Totally unmoved by her rummaging through my things, I allow it and hand her the bag by its strap; there's nothing of a secretive nature in there. This is such a frustrating occurrence. I can do this on my own. I don't need the help, but I don't feel like offing the only two students I've come to know this quickly.

I double through my pockets again in vain. They're not there, neither key is in my possession. Misha comes up empty and returns my belongings.

“Are you sure you had them earlier?” she asks me. There's concern in her voice, her pitch more light. She may be unhappy at my attitude.

I want to yell at her for such an obvious question, but I’d be an idiot to follow through.

“Yes; this morning, and I checked again on the first train.”

"I can help you look for them..." she says.

My eyes are welling up. I was supposed to be responsible. I was supposed to be able to do this on my own. I’ve already screwed up, and I haven’t even properly begun yet. This kind of thing wouldn't have happened if I had attached them to my house keys like I should have done. Now I’ll be spending the rest of the day scouring campus to find two small keys on a metal ring.

What hurts the most is that I truly can not do that by myself.

I can feel a warm drip on my cheek. I didn’t mean to cry like this. It’s not like I’m bawling, but I almost feel like I should be. I touch my face, following the wetness and wiping it from my under my eyes.

That's twice today that I've cried in front of someone else.

The other time didn't have a witness.

“Hey, hey,” Misha says, noticing my expression. She places a hand on my shoulder, attempting to comfort me. “It’s okay~. We’ll just retrace your steps and figure this out. If it comes down to it, I know where we can get replacements, anyhoo~.”

Lilly asks me where I’ve opened the pouch throughout the day. I tell her that I’d been reading for most of the commute, and at every stop but the Nurse’s office, I’ve gotten into it for one thing or another.

Finding no solace in simply staying put and waiting on the items to surface of their own accord, the girls assure me that they'll help.

I don't like being helped, but I need this right now.

"Fine..."

The campus is much larger than I remember from a few hours ago. The scent no longer carries the rain, and even the flowery smell has faded along with the wind. I'm so tired; I'm out of shape, definitely. We've been covering the same paths once, twice over. After a second trip through the cafeteria, I could swear that my legs and wrist were swollen from overuse. I hate the rolling tips on canes; they make you forget how to do it on your own, but I can understand why that would be a luxury on extended walks such as this.

I'm starting to lose faith in our ability to find them.

I've already lost faith in myself.

Dammit; I'm a wreck, losing my cool so easily - giving up. If I can't give it my all, then there's no reason for me to even be here. I'm not still wallowing in myself at home. This school is going to be my home now. I should be working toward that fresh start I kept bringing up. What kind of person would be to pack it in when I've only just begun?

This is a pitiful first impression; I'll be amazed if Lilly or Misha want to even talk to me afetr their obligations have finished. They seem like they want to help me, but it might be more to hasten some sort of conclusion more than anything.

I want this to be over.

I want to go to bed and just end this day.

I'll start over tomorrow.

Misha does most of the talking as we ask around. She also does most of the looking in general, since neither Lilly nor I can actually search the ground without complications. At least much of the water has disappeared since the rain ceased. My shoes still squeak occasionally on a thin drift, but it's essentially dry out here.

We bump into Inoue on our way to the Auxiliary building. I sort of knew him from my hometown, but he wasn't a student at my old school. He was tutored at home, something I had suspected, but he didn't actually confirm it until we met on one of the trains. My stepmother rode with me on the trains and insisted we talk. Luckily, he's not a bad guy, and it was nice to have a pleasant chat in an airy space before we got sardined on the bus. Inoue didn't say much to me on the commute here, though it seemed like he knew a few of the other kids riding along with us. They would surely give better conversation. I wasn't about to interrupt him, and I really didn't have much to say.

He starts tomorrow, without any of the prerequisites that my condition entitles. He hasn't told me why he enrolled here. I won't ask him.

Unobjected to asking about the whereabouts of my keys might be, I ask him as well. As expected, Inoue has no idea. Oh well; I didn't think I could luck out so easily. He insists he'll keep an eye out for them and continues on his way.

"We're running out of places to go," Misha says disheartedly.

I shake my head, thinking she might see it.

"We could try the Nurse's office, and then..."

I stop.

"Naofumi?" Lilly asks, wary of my inability to finish a sentence, no doubt. That's her concern, but for now, I've stumbled on to something that I need to act on before I forget.

Wasting no time, I fidget through my bag again, but I'm not after the lost items at the moment, merely a misplaced one. I manage to free my cell phone, but I wasn't looking for that, I just require it. Coming up empty, I place the fingers of my left hand into the opening of my pants pockets and...

"I'm calling the Counselor."

I don't remember putting my cell back within the bag, but that's where it was when I was in the cafeteria. Surely, if I wasn't that attentive, I could have simply not noticed the keys being pulled out when I showed Nobatou my phone. Maybe they landed on the bag first, softening the sound. This is my last shot. If this comes up empty, then I literally am out of options short of the lost & found at the train or bus stations.

I feel out the numbers on the card and say them aloud, one by one. Confident I've got the pattern down, I begin dialing. I'm always sure to reset my thumb at '5' between each press. If I were more adept, I could sway across every digit as I go and not bother with the extra set, but skipping orientation means putting dependability into question. Every option I receive to righten myself, I should do my best to do so.

That's something my Orientation & Mobility coach taught me. He messed with me a lot, but his intentions were solid. I still hate the phrase 'shoreline' to this day as a side effect, however. All of the terminology was stupid, anyway.

The cell rings in my ear several times. I'm not liking the delay. She must still be here, or is it getting so late already?

Then, mercifully, there's a *clack* and I am greeted by Nobatou's cheery voice. It's a bit distorted over this connection, but she's easier to make out than my stepmother, likely due to the distance.

"Sae here. Is that you Naofumi?"

"Yea," I reply. She must still have my number saved.

"It's just... I didn't think you'd call so soon..."

She sounds worried. Does everyone worry about me?

"It's not important, but..." Scratch that. "Actually, it's really important. Can you do me a favor? It's not about... me." I can't form words again. Assertion is something I can't seem to make myself do all the time, which in itself is ironic. "Well, it is about me, but it's more about my keys..."

There's a silence. being over the phone means I can't hear all the little sounds, so she could easily be a million miles away for how quiet it's become. I unloop the cane's strap from my wrist and flex my poor hand. I really want to just stop moving for a while. eventually, she speaks, audibly bewildered.

"...I'm sorry?"

Great; I've confused her. Think logically Fumi; be coherent and direct.

"Could you check around your office for a minute?" There you go. "I've lost my dorm keys and I think they might be in there somewhere. They're two keys on a little metal ring; one's a cheap spare, but the other has three holes in it, near the top."

Maybe describing it in my own way was unnecessary. If she sees them, then she sees them. There would likely only be one set of random keys in her office unless I'm not alone in being a total idiot when it comes to paying attention to items of importance.

"Hang on, hon'..."

Misha wants a status report, but I wave her for for now, pointing a finger up to let her know I'm still waiting. After an agonizing break in communication, I hear several little knocks and incidental sounds. She's carrying the phone with her, but it's more like she's tossing it about. I know I'm practically asking her to crawl around on her floor for a bit, but she seems more than willing to give it a shot at least.

Then I hear a muted *jing*. A second later, the noise is far more pronounced, and the jingling of keys rings over the earpiece before I assume she places the coveted items on her desk with a crash.

Lilly heard it as well, and lets out an honest sigh.

"Found 'em," Nobatou says, happy with herself. I'm so relieved I could collapse right here and now. If I don't do it on my own sometime soon, it's a real possiblity.

"Aaah, thank you. You have no idea how much walking we've been doing trying to track those down. I feel really stupid about all this."

"Heh. It's fine. They're here when you need them, and I'll be here for another hour." I hear more banging form her end. That desk needs updated to match the fancier, quieter, chairs. "Actually, that means you'd better need them pretty soon. I'll hang on to them right here where I can see them. If you don't make it here, I'll call and we'll figure something out."

"Thank you so much, again. We'll be right over," I say, inadvertently volunteering someone to take me there once more. I wish I could do this from memory, but I’ve honestly not been thinking too clearly this past hour or so. The girls have been the ones leading the way for much of it. Come to think of it, Misha doesn't need to be here if she doesn't want to be. I can't read her very well, so I ask her if she'd like to come with us or not.

"Well~, classes are pretty much over, and all my books and stuff are in the Student Council room~, so I think it'd be alright if you want me to help out some more~."

"Lilly," I begin, "Would you want to come along? If you don't feel like it, I can have Misha make sure I get there alright."

"If that's all right, then I don't think it would be a problem if I set off for now. I'll come by tomorrow at around noon to take you through the motions again, hopefully with less action. After that, we can stop by the classroom so you can get acquainted with the arrangement.

"Speaking of which, I should go grab a copy of today's presentation. Would you like a CD as well, Naofumi? I can have it delivered to you, later."

I ponder it briefly, pass along a "Sure," and following our goodbyes, Lilly has taken off to the main building. before she gets too far, I call to her again.

"Lilly, wait!"

I can hear her round back to us, just enough to hear and be heard.

"Hmm? What is it?"

“Umm... Thank you very much for guiding me around the school all day. I’m sorry if I’ve given the impression of being unappreciative.” I’ve been too emotional about all of this.“Really, though, I’m very grateful for your help.”

“You’re very welcome, Naofumi. Sleep well tonight, and I’ll meet up with you tomorrow.” With that, she heads off as planned. I meant what I said; I am grateful to her.

Alone with Misha, she insists we make haste. She leads my hand to her sleeve, and I grip it lightly. As before, I must note that she's very soft. I don't find her easy on the ears, and her personality is still vague to me, but if I were to choose someone that might actually appeal to me, she'd be a prime target.

"It's not good to keep someone waiting~!"

I laugh, already realizing the hypocrisy on display.

"...You mean, like you did earlier with that other girl?"

"I got distracted. Shichan gave me the stopwatch and everything, and I still forgot~. Maybe she didn't trust me."

She whimpers a little. I catch a small lock of her hair between my fingertips. It must be incredibly long, and it’s quite straight too. She must spend a lot of time on it. I remember what we were talking about, and force myself back into the conversation. It doesn't stop me from moving the strands about as we go.

"Well, maybe it's more like she trusts you, but she knew you'd get sidetracked if you wandered off course; hence, the stopwatch."

She seems to pepper up after that statement.

"Wahaha~. You're prolly right, Naochan~!"

A nickname? So soon? I don't like it when Danbaki calls me that, and I've talked with him loads of times now.

"Really, you can call me Naofumi."

"Nah," she replies. "We can be friends, so Naochan works out fine~. And you can just call me Misha."

It's not like I haven't, but alright.

Friends, already...

There’s a smile on my face. It’s not intentionally obvious, but it’s there.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

whew, back in the groove again. there may end up being three more parts if i keep at it. probably two, maybe three. just glad to get over that wall i was stuck at for a week.

EDIT: I IMMEDIATELY ADDED STUFF
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

the next part will likely be thursday early morning again. i kind of like the spacing i have going (although it encourages procrastination), since it allows me to do other things and still add piece by piece to the installment. i know i kept saying there were only a few parts left, but i'm really unsure at this point the exact number. less than six or seven, most likely. even if the part doesn't arrive on thursday, it's still coming sometime.

[MrBackpack]

Seriously, why do you have to be so good at this?

I'm calling into question my own writing abilities after reading this.

[darkmelee]

Seriously, why do you have to be so good at this?

I'm calling into question my own writing abilities after reading this.

you give me too much credit, really. i need to exercise my vocabulary more, and should be taking this at a slower pace. the only thing i really have going for me is that i have a plan and an overarching plot. anybody can do what i'm doing right here, and even i can do better (and i will go back at some point for this chapter and do so when i put it all together), and i'm definitely going to take the next chapters at a different speed so i can do them justice when needed.

nobody should feel intimidated by my writing, but i hope that if it causes someone to question their own talents, then maybe something good or better can come of that.

[MrBackpack]

Seriously, why do you have to be so good at this?

I'm calling into question my own writing abilities after reading this.

you give me too much credit, really. i need to exercise my vocabulary more, and should be taking this at a slower pace. the only thing i really have going for me is that i have a plan and an overarching plot. anybody can do what i'm doing right here, and even i can do better (and i will go back at some point for this chapter and do so when i put it all together), and i'm definitely going to take the next chapters at a different speed so i can do them justice when needed.

nobody should feel intimidated by my writing, but i hope that if it causes someone to question their own talents, then maybe something good or better can come of that.

... and I think that you are being overly modest.

It is a good thing that I"m questioning my abilities, it's forcing me to think further ahead when writing a story rather than just the next chapter; not to mention the building of a fully developed character before I start writing rather than letting the story tell me who the characters is.

[darkmelee]

CONTINUED -

Actually...

"Misha?" I ask, tapping her elbow.

"Hmm?"

"I think I should try to do this on my own." I release my light hold on her arm and steady myself. "Just tell me which direction to go and make sure I don't wander too far off-course."

"Okie~!" she says, gleefully humming about behind me as I move on ahead of her. It's not like it's very difficult to get there, but I would like to be able to at least prove I can follow the sidewalk on my own. I know she's seen blind students getting around without help. I still don't like being outdoors like this. At least there isn't any traffic to delay me, save from the occasional passersby.

Another set of bells sing their brief tune, echoing across the grounds before disappearing into the distance. I can't really hear much of anything from outside of the school from here. This must be the epicenter of the campus, with all points leading inward to my location. It's another reminder of the size of the facility; not incredibly large, but definitely something significant.

Misha only corrects me twice at separate intersections. The demands of relearning my whereabouts is daunting to me, rewriting a daily routine in a new venue. I keep imagining the sidewalk branching off more than it inevitably does, likely a carryover memory from my old school's gardens, which had several extraneous paths. The smell of violets carried across the grounds there...

Violets. That scent... It's something I've associated with home, namely my bedroom. Throughout my childhood, a scented candle was placed high up where I could neither reach nor topple it without deliberate force. As a baby, even, the smell told me I was in my bedroom, and nowhere else. Later years, simple plugins were more common.

Fuzzy carpet and melon scent for the living room. The couch was lush, and, when my father would be home, I'd sit on his lap as he watched television or played games...

Laminate tiles and a soapy smell for the kitchen, usually with the clanging and clicking of utensils or cooking tools. My mother baked a lot, but really loved making pastas and complex meals...

The are near the restroom always had a load of laundry going, so the aroma of detergent or fabric softener - that dry airy feeling - was easy to remember. I'd wander in the bath, only to be shooed out until I was old enough to realize that not everyone wanted company when they were doing their business. I gained a notoriety for locking and securing the door when I would be in there, to make absolutely sure that none could do the same to me in an act of revenge.

The lofty den was...

...

I've stopped moving again. I feel a hand on my shoulder, with Misha letting me know it's just her. She says I'm crying again, and I believe her. I can feel a shaking in my chest, a heaving that's unintentional. My cheeks are flush and my hands weak.

"Naochan... What's wrong?" She sounds so upset.

Why can't things be like they were back then, when it was all less complicated?

She also says that we've arrived at the Aux. building, so I've managed this far.

"I'm sorry. Something heavy came over me just now, but I'm fine. Really..."

We were all in a better place then; my father would come home every few days, sometimes a few weeks or more, and he'd always make sure I was doing alright. I missed him when he would leave, but I understood that being involved with the military can be a time-consuming career. My mother would come upstairs and read to me every night, or she'd help me with schoolwork. When she got sick, we knew we couldn't let her keep up with it all, raising me and still trying to go to college.

When she died, we were broken, but we managed to remain stable, even in sadness.

Then, father met Chika.

Then, they were married.

Then, things got complicated. Then, it got worse...

Stop it. Stop dwelling. Focus. Focus!

I was so sad...

Focus! Focus!

Why is it that every unhappy thought pervades so heavily in my head like this? It's like when I lose my place in a book, only the pages have been secretly rearranged, making it difficult. When another hand grabs me, I'm literally startled into awareness. The shock causes me to tremble for a moment before I realize exactly what's going on.

"Naochan!"

There's a firm grip on my upper arm, and tighter hold on my shoulder. If my cane weren't looped around my wrist, I could very well have dropped it. These events are becoming persistent and pervasive, and returning from them is requiring more directness than I can handle .

This isn't normal.

I respond meekly.

"...Sorry. It happened, again. I'm fine." It comes out unsteady, unsure. I don't know exactly how fine I really am at the moment. Is this another preview of what's to come? Breathing becomes less forced, and I bring myself back into a calm pattern of breaths. The tension recedes and my body becomes usable again.

She relaxes her fingers during my change in stiffness, and uneasily releases me. Sure she's backed off a bit, I adjust my cane to a more functional position. I'm sweating, even in this chilly weather.

"Are you... gonna be okay?" she asks, obviously disturbed by the episode. After a few seconds of thinking it over, I reply positively before having her set me on my way. She guides me to the door, this time taking the ramp, and opens the door for me. It's an unnecessary gesture, but she may be wary of my abilities at the moment.

I reassure her of my composure, although it's possible that she doesn't believe me. If she truly doesn't, then she isn't making it known.

Upon entering, I wipe my eyes. I have no idea how bad I must look right now, and I fear that Nobatou is going to pick up on it. I need something to snap me out of those phases, something to help me focus when things seem hopeless.

With no umbrella in need of being set aside, I can guide myself past the rack and continue on ahead. Misha follows behind me, closely.

I didn't mean to worry her.

I wasn't always like this.

As we pass the Nurse's office, I can hear a conversation coming from within. I make out a young boy speaking, and there's an unnatural clicking sound under their voices. My best guess is something prosthetic, thought it may as well be that they're adjusting a chair. I want to ask the Nurse about receiving a new cane, but I might as well wait until I've finished with Nobatou. I need those keys to continue my day and secure a place to sleep soundly later.

Misha's shoes are squeaking more than mine on the floor. I made sure to shuffle my steps on the carpet found near the entrance; I'm doubting she took that measure. My cane is much louder indoors, and the noises are overlapping in a bizarre rhythm. I can't help but imagine more noises to go along with them. That reminds me; I'll need new tips for my new cane as well.

With my hand sliding along the wall, I am reminded of my dependency of boundaries. Literally, I'm constantly edging my way from place to place. On a sidewalk, I find the outer lengths and make sure to follow along. Indoors, I trust there will be a wall to guide myself where I would need to go. Back at home, I would still feel my way about, even if it was under less scrutiny and didn't demand much for me to discern my location.

I'm still embarrassed about needing to visit a therapist every week. Sure, it's not at the hospital, which I appreciate... but it's still something I don't classify as common. I almost don't want to bring it up, especially since she hasn't mentioned it either.

"Do you come down here often, Misha? To the medical section, I mean."

"Sae and I talk a lot~. I've gotta see her every few weeks to chat~ and stuff. I've only met the Nurse once, but seems like an okay guy."

She admits it so calmly. I might be making a big deal out of this. She moves in and whispers into my ear, the bubblegum from earlier still present on her breath."

"I think he's gay~."

I can't think of a proper way to respond to this, and opt for nothing at all. She giggles less quietly as we resume pace. As we we walk along, I realize that I'd actually like to ask her 'How do you feel about that?', but I can't force the words out. Some ambiguity is well enough, but I wonder sometimes how others view taboos in their everyday lives.

My mother wasn't around when puberty hit me like rampant freight, and my father was in no state to comment on the subject when it came down to it. My stepmother isn't open to the idea, but she tolerates it without much emotion. In fact, her lack of emotion makes it even harder to discuss. She'd hoped that it was just a phase, I think. She seems to not like that I won't be extending the family on my own merits, and I understand that, but she doesn't speak of it openly.

There's a crack in the painted surface that I didn't notice before, which I feel out for a moment before moving on. Surprisingly, the Counselor's office is just a few steps away. Without delay, I knock politely on the door, somewhere near the jamb. Nobatou's happy voice implores we enter, and we do so.

I hold the door open for Misha as she approaches. "Ladies first," I say, bowing lightly enough that I don't accidentally collide with her. The scent of the room slowly absorbs me, as if it hadn't before. It's a unique smell in such an artificial and seemingly impersonal facility.

"Such a gentleman~!" She laughs that strange laugh of hers and gives her greetings to Nobatou. I follow suit, without the crazy laughter, and head inwards with another greeting. Without delay, the Counselor has me hold out my palm, and she places the set of keys inside of it. Then, i clench down my fingers on top of them with unnecessary force to prevent another daring escape.

"You're lucky! I was actually about to leave early until you called. But I figured I might as well finish up some paperwork while I waited and managed to get caught up pretty quick."

"Thank you so much. I mean, really..."

"Naofumi?"

She moves around from behind her desk and comes to my front. I can smell her perfume from here, so she must be fairly close.

She can tell.

"...Were you that upset about the keys?"

No, not really. The keys were only part of the problem.

"Yea. I was broken up about it." I'm lying again. Misha isn't saying anything on the matter, but she doesn't know exactly what caused me to get lost in my head. She's so bubbly in personality, I wonder if she ever gets sad like that .

"Ahh. Well it's good that we've found them, yes?" Nobatou replies. "I hate to see young people cry. It makes me all sad and then I just wanna try and make it all better."

I hate lying, and I hate being lied to. She doesn't need the drama today. I'll tell her some other time, when it's expected that I unfold my life story to her. Speaking of which...

"Nobatou, umm... I forgot to ask. Are we meeting tomorrow, or are we starting next week?" It's not like I really desire to go through with this tomorrow, but if I'm going to build up trust, I should take the appropriate steps and show some initiative.

After Misha sits herself in one the chairs to rest, Nobatou answers.

"Sorry, but tomorrow's not good for me. I'm actually supposed to go out of town. But if you need anything, just call me." She slides her palms together. "Anytime. That's what I'm here for."

I loop the keys around the ring finger of my right hand; they're not getting away. I'm about to call on Misha, but the Counselor jumps in before me.

"So, Misha. You doing alright today?"

I kind of want to hurry to the dorms, but I have enough decency to wait until they're ready to part.

"Yup~! I've been helping Lilly and Naochan get around and stuff~."

"That's good. It's nice to see you out and about with other students." She heads to the back of the room again, grabs something off the brim of her desk, presumably a purse of some sort, and returns. "If you girls don't mind - and I think Misha might, since she's fond of my new chairs, too - I should lock up and get ready for tomorrow while I still have the time."

I move on ahead as Nobatou trails me, ushering Misha out the door so she can fasten the bolt and be done for now. The grip on my cane needs to be more relaxed with the keys in my grasp, but at least I know that they're in my possession and everything should be fine now. Nobatou wishes us well as she moves quickly through the hallway. She's eager to leave, and I'm eager to be done with this mess of a day.

"All right, Naofumi! Mission complete~." She skips along beside me. "I was starting to worry until you called Sae. It's lucky she had them, huh?"

It's lucky they were even at the school.

"I'm just glad it wasn't worse than this. I know somebody on staff should have a copy of the keys; supposedly, my stuff's already in the room." I genuinely sigh. "It's over now, though, and I just wanna go to my room and stop walking for a while." Honestly, I wasn't this exhausted earlier. I regret prolonging my bedtime last night.

I sidle the wall as I always do, sliding my cane back and forth against the frame lining the floor. As we near the Nurse's office, I can still hear chatter. I guess I'll get everything set up tomorrow when I visit him in order to take my medication. I hate that I need to do so quite early in the morning as well.

...Every day for a month.

I'm very tired. It shows in my posture as we backtrack all the way to the girls' dormitories. I do my best to orient myself on my own, but Misha corrects me several times before I give up and allow her to guide me personally. It's lazy, and not good for my skills, but I don't care at this point. I would be most grateful if my obligations would cease until I've had a decent rest. I free myself of her aide once we've reached the large doors of the building. The route feels like it's much longer than I remember, but that may just be my weariness at work.

When we clear the entryway, I'm practically dragging myself step by step toward finality. I ease my cane upwards, simply using the edge of the corridor to align myself. I count along and read the panels as I pass them. Some lack names, likely empty rooms or not-quite-ready chambers. Again, we amble beyond the restroom, but I still lack the need, thankfully.

Then my fingers graze over my own name.

"All right. This is it."

Mentally crossing my fingers, I slide the keyring from my hand and line up with the lock directly on the knob's face. I press, and the crevassed device gladly accepts the key. A quick twist of my wrist, and the mechanisms click in their place. Grasping the knob, I adjust it accordingly, and I'm immensely relieved when the door gives way.

"All right, Naochan~!"

Like the area outside of the room, there's a paint scent carrying everywhere. It's not very inviting, though I'm in no place to argue about it now. I move in just past the jamb and feel out the border along the wall. It's a smooth touch, and likely newly painted - dried, as expected.

"Finally." I say unabashedly, literally exhausted in body and mind. "Misha..."

"Hmm~?"

"Are there some bags in here; like, luggage?"

"Yea; three beside the bed. One of them's pretty big~."

"Awesome. Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, Naochan. Whatcha need me to do~?"

I'm already freeing my wrist of the cane strap and lowering my shoulder bag down to my forearm. Once claimed by my hand, I place it on the carpet near our position, just out of the way of possible traffic. "Point me to the bed, if you would."

I'm done for now.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

woot, over 32k words and going. that's a lot of typing, and i'm glad i've made it this far without botching it up completely. this section was almost as difficult as the last part on account of my constant arguing about how much exposition i should be doing or not. i kept typing up stuff better left for later chapters and felt like i was giving away too many details too early on. why spoil the plot so early, yes?

might still be some typos, but should be mostly clean. my head's killing me, and i'm clocking out for the night.

EDIT: reworded small phrases and noted some missing words or punctuation.

just a heads up, i don't know when the next part will be finished. it was supposed to be the easiest part to write, but i'm trying not to mess something up, and it's gonna take some time to figure out. i'm not sure if that'll make sense, even after i post it, but be just be informed that this next one's taking some time for research. i'm also looking into more specifics pertaining to other things also, for the sake of accuracy. i could use a vacation just to focus on my writing; it'd do me some good.

OKAY, so i've decided, after scouring the internet for far longer than i'd like, that the internet doesn't have (or i cannot find) what i've been searching for, and as a result, will be required to change how i was going to do the next part. it will involve some rewriting the first bit (which may actually end up being its own part, and that's good since i can get a part out this week after all), and... then i will be attempting something a little daunting unless i can find what i need. i don't want to cop out and leave out huge chunks of the following part in place of real information/speech.

NEXT PART SATURDAY MORNING, then i need to decide exactly what i'll be doing next for real. i don't have near enough free time, but i hate saying it'll be out soon, when soon might end up being a week or more. i miss the first few days where i had like a post every day or so. that was pretty cool. but now, i have to be careful about what i type up, so as to not jump ahead or break any rules, and it slows the process, but it gives me more opportunities to take my time. still, i both look forward to, and equally dread, the part with major typing, since i'll need to do the whole thing first before even starting on the rest of it all.

[scott1and]

Another good chapter, and there was some typos, but I can't be bothered to search through the whole text for them. Starting to like where the plots going as well, although I'm starting to second guess who the couple's gonna be now. Keep up the good work.

[charmisokay]

I like this, a lot.
Anyways, please keep it up

[themocaw]

Really enjoying this. Keep it up.

[SuppleHope]

I've never seriously read fan fiction before, neither had I played a visual novel before Katawa Shoujo. I'm happy I decided to change both of those. I love what you've done so far!

First off, I want to mention that I really like the way you handled telling this story without any visual information, I've seen you mention that this makes things a little harder, but I think it's well worth it for how much more personal the story becomes. I think any story could benefit from this more personal touch (I'm going to keep that in mind myself).

I'm going to agree with others that you are being a bit modest considering what you've demonstrated, though modesty isn't a terrible thing . This story combined with themocaw's works have made me decide to stick around here for a bit and see what this place has to offer (I haven't regularly visited a forum in ages). There's some seriously talented writers here! I'm even considering trying my hand at creating a story if I ever have the time (college is going to start getting busy soon here so I might not). If I do it'll be amateurish at best, but I'm slowly working up the courage to give it a try.

Thanks again for writing this, it's turning out really great so far! I'm really looking forward to following it to its conclusion assuming you have the time to finish it (which I really hope you do) .

[darkmelee]

CONTINUED -

With little effort, I simply drop my cane and manage to untie my shoes. My right shoe puts up a stubborn fight, but I'm more than able to free my foot from its snare - no obvious odors at the present, gladly. I leave the set near what I'm hoping was the location of my shoulder bag. Hopefully, I haven't tracked any noticeable grit or dirt on my way into the room. Then again, if I did, then Misha would be just as guilty, if not more so, for wearing her shoes this far into the chamber.

Thinking back, I can't recall exactly where I set the cane in relation to my own position right now... I'll find it later and wipe it down as well. I can figure the room out on my own, so it can stay wherever it is until I need it. Once I realize that I'm still in possession of the room keys, I have Misha place them upon the nearby desk. Being just out of arms' reach, I am unlikely to lose them without severe obliviousness. I recommend she keep them far from the edge, if only to ensure I can't sweep them off by accident.

I don't know how much use the desk will be to me, but it's there, nonetheless.

I make an audible sound of relief when I finally sit myself down on the cushiony bedside. It's nowhere near as comfortable as my own bed at home, though it seems to be relatively well-kept. That's sure to change now, as I was never one to fix the sheets of my own accord. I bounce up and down a little, weighing the pressure I inflict. I've likely not gained any weight lately. I mentally note that the bed is located on the left side of the room from the entrance, to help with drowsy wandering.

The fabric of the sheets is smooth and lacking any real defining feature. It brings to mind a hotel's dressing, functional enough to survive several tenants before being replaced by the same exact style of sheets once the old set has been destroyed. The sound of my fingers as they slide along the surface is quite loud, louder than the crumpling of the fabric below me.

As I bob absentmindedly , I notice the balance shift as Misha sits next to me. Judging by the bow of the mattress, Misha isn't a very light young woman, but she's not excessively heavy or anything either. Normally, I wouldn't mind a nice girl sitting near me like this, but the setting is off, and I'm not sure I have any honest affection for her at this point, outside from her being soft to the touch. I'd say she is a friend, but it may be best to leave it at that. I could use some friends, after all, despite her pleasance.

"Wow, your bed's all new. New sheets, new pillow~."

They're still a bit crinkly, although that should ease up with use. Just patting the pillowcase makes a fair bit of noise and is stiff when I press inward. It resumes its shape quickly, so it'll be acceptable in lieu of my far superior pillow from home which I only now recall that I had forgotten to pack in my rush.

"You need anything else, Naochan?~" she asks me. As much as there's a part of me that would be very interested in suggesting she help me try out the shower, I know better.

I am entitled to imagining whatever I damn well please. Besides, I wouldn't consider myself very capable at present. It would be fun, but a mostly empty gesture.

"No, I'm good. I'm just gonna lie down for a few hours if I can get away with it." My shirt is bunching up around my chest, and I just remembered that I've been bouncing about freely. Upon realizing this, I cease my playful movements and straighten my clothing taught before I accentuate my bust any further. "...Might shimmie into a different top or something before I clock out."

"Wahaha~! You should be proud, Naochan! Like I said, you're really pretty~."

Her laughing shakes the bed even more, causing me to readjust myself on the spot. I can't help but smile, despite my efforts on the contrary. I'm still not very confident about my body. Of course, I've never felt comfortable in my own skin.

I'm probably still blushing. I can feel it, but I can't always tell. I've been getting a lot of positive reinforcement about myself today. Even with my little episodes, everyone has been cheering me on through the thick of it. It's really... nice, like, we're all in this together.

I've heard that expression before, but until now, I didn't have an honest experience to associate with the trope. I know I'd thought a similar thing when I first arrived, but here - now - it seems to be far more honest and real.

I need to readjust my seating when she rises from the mattress. It's still much more firm than I'd like. Just a bit away, she asks if I need any help unpacking. I'm more than able to suffice without aide.

"It'll be fine. I can do it so I know where everything is."

As bare as the room is, I can imagine there'd be next to nothing in the ways of decoration. It's not like I'll be making this place appear lived in aside from the soon-to-be-messy bed and maybe a bag or two left out. If I'm proper about my clothes, then there should be nothing that is where it should not be.

The dresser ought to be enough storage for my paltry wardrobe.

I unfasten the topmost button on my shirt. There are only three, but that release makes a huge difference in comfort. After doing so, I arch back in yawning, placing a palm over my mouth as I've been taught to.

Okay, wow. I am tired.

"Ummm... I think I'm gonna call it here, Misha."

She's already by the door. When did she get that far away? I'm not paying attention here.

"Heh, you should just go to bed, already~. We can hang out some other time, okay?"

"Okay. And..." I feel the sheets folding around my fingers as I say so, "I wanna thank you for all your help, really. You and Lilly have put a lot of time in for me already, and I appreciate it. I haven't had -" Be sure you want to say this, Fumi. "I haven't had a very good few years, and the past several months have been," I'm choking on my words again, "...rough. I'm in a new school, with new people, but you two gave me the full treatment."

My hands have stopped moving about and are now gripping the fabric tightly.

"...And, I want to thank you, again."

"Don't worry about it~. I'll see you later, okay? Oh-!"

I raise my hand, to stifle the apology before it can erupt at full force.

"I understand expressions, and I use them, too. It's cool, really. You don't need to adjust your own habits on my account. I'll deal with it, either way."

I don't use them often, but that's not necessarily the point I am trying to make here. The raised hand still hovering near the right side of my face becomes a friendly wave, and I can assume that she's waving to me as well, as she seems like the type of person to do so against logic. After another set of goodbyes, Misha makes her departure, locking the door with a noticeable *click* when she twists the tab, and closing it afterward. She hums happily as she trots along the corridor outside. In this room I've only known for the better of fifteen minutes, I am now completely and totally alone.

Once Misha's footsteps have cleared earshot, I take the time to just listen to the room by itself. Almost immediately, I pick up a sound I surely missed upon entering and amongst our conversations just a minute ago: the persistent and even mechanisms of an old-fashioned dial clock.

"Damn," I say to no one. That would have been something to have Misha help me with. Unpacking is practical, but if the clock ends up being too high for me to reach, or in a location far too unwieldy for myself, then it would have been ideal to take care of it when the opportunity was present.

I have my wristwatch to help me with matters of time, a gift from my stepmother two summers ago. Its hands are sturdy and immovable without brute force, making them easy for me to gauge and feel the tiny numbers dotted along its rim. Indeed, this is far quieter and more useful than the noise on the wall.

If I were to stand and actually listen, I might just find the thing...

I'm not feeling it. In all honesty, I should do as I told Misha and prepare for the inevitable crash. Sliding myself over the edge of the bed, yet still keeping a light touch to the sheet's rim, I feel about the carpet. The fuzzy texture is unexpectedly rough, likely from being new and unused. It will take some time and washes before it gets to a more friendly fluff, so I'm assuming I'll be wanting to keep a set of socks on me in my free time.

"Socks," I declare, yet again to no one. It's acceptably in this scenario, unlike arguing with myself and then promptly punishing myself for not listening to myself ...or something. Point is, I'm not losing my mind, here, and it's alright to aurally check the acoustics (which are surprisingly subdued) while I search for the luggage case; which i subsequently find much farther from the bed than I anticipated, my arm no longer reaching the mattress.

This is nowhere near the bed, Misha.

I shuffle over to a more comfortable range and rest cross-legged in front of the baggage. I remember the zipper at the topmost compartment being fairly difficult to find for some reason. Prodding around and siding my fingers over the peak of the thing, I come to the conclusion that it wasn't a one-off deal.

"Stupid thing. Stop being difficult. I don't have the patience right now, so if you could, please, not be a an asshole when all I want to do is change my socks and things..."

Honestly, where the hell is it?

I perch on my knees to get a better angle at it. If someone where here, they'd probably think I was attempting to straddle the luggage and fumbling at how to go about it; and that would definitely not be ideal in setting a good example of myself.

And then I graze across what I'd been struggling to locate for the past minute or so.

"Oh, sonuva..."

Turns out it was much lower on the side of the bag than I thought it would be, which, also now that I remember, was the reason it was so troublesome to begin with. Why isn't there a cord on the end of the zipper head, like most luggage and packings? Even a general rucksack would feature a proper string attached for ease of use.

I should get one of those.

It's these little moments that remind me of the smaller fusses I deal with every day; a little refresher on how I can struggle with things that an average person would find trivial at best.

I hadn't realized just how much material I'd packed into the bag until now. After completely opening the section, I'm holding back, and failing to hold back, many socks and stockings from pouring out. Well, at least I won't need to look far for them. I slide my knuckles along the carpet and locate a fresh pair of crew socks, then place them just behind me on the floor behind my feet. I'll want to shower in full sometime in the evening, so wasting a set of good stockings on what may or may not be stinky feet seems unnecessary.

I thought I had the underwear in here, too...

I'm feeling around the inside again, but I'm still only discovering more rolled sets of socks and a rogue pair of panties.

I guess... that counts.

Thinking ahead, I set the underwear behind me. A small braille tab tells me that they're a plain white, something innocent; at least, that's what my stepmother considered them to be. I wanted black, which she noted was far less innocent. I yielded, as I was still fairly innocent back then. I still am, for the most part.

Much of my clothing has such tabs attached to them; just another way to assist in selecting clothing. I don't have a great sense of color coordination, but I know what usually works. I'm partial to black and single-colored apparel.

Debating whether to simply pour the contents onto the floor for convenience's sake, I instead decide it better to just reach into the front compartment and feel around for a loose top. After a brief period of scrounging, laziness and a severe case of exhaustion kick in and inform me in unison that I should just remove my collared shirt and not worry about it. the undershirt is more than enough for just me in my own room. I do pull out a long-sleeved button shirt as something I can throw on in case of visitors and the like.

At the very least, it would help draw attention from my chest.

Unsure of how to deal with the small piles of footwear surrounding me atop the carpet, the notion of shoving them all back into the loaded luggage case becomes increasingly more attractive, as opposed to putting them all away in the dresser like a responsible and independent young woman would do. I shovel the lot of them and smash them unceremoniously into whence they came and zip them in tightly. Proud of my not-unpacking, I track down the socks and panties I'd set aside earlier and walk slowly to the bed.

It's bizarre, being in a bedroom, my bedroom, and not knowing where anything is at all times. I'll have to relearn my surroundings every morning as I buld a routine for getting around.

My knee knocks the end of the bedside softly, and I'm grateful I didn't slam my shin or something into the far less forgiving support underneath the mattress. Carefully, I ease myself onto it and pull my polo shirt up and over my head, fussing with it as it meets my chin. After some struggling, I free my poor head and, placing the fresh set of panties atop the removed shirt, fold the top over itself and place the set onto the dresser; that way, I can keep the underwear out of storage, but not be out in the open for anyone to ogle should they stop by unexpectedly.

I would prefer to preempt any sort of panty ogling.

My undershirt is just barely covering me at the moment, and after letting a small laugh get away, I pull it back down over my stomach. After prying my socks off (and being secretly pleased by the lack of a prevalent scent) and replacing them without much trouble, I literally drop onto my left side and swing my legs up to join me. It takes some wriggling, but I manage to get under the sheets without removing myself from the bed.

And now the furnishings are officially impure and unclean.

The sheets and pillowcase all smell fresh and unused, the crinkling pseudo-softness carrying all throughout the ensemble. I breathe deeply and try to settle my mind, which has suddenly decided to go into overdrive. I'm feeling uneasy. The fabric rustling against my face makes for a somewhat overbearing symphony, which I grudgingly attempt to ignore by laying flat on my back, to free my ears from direct contact.

"I should have brought my fan."

Some tossing , and also some turning, later, it doesn't seem to matter that much, as the *tick-tack*-ing of the wall clock eventually fades into nothingness. After a rather healthy yawn, I forget that I am in a foreign place for just long enough to disappear as well.


*****

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woot, finally got this part out. also, i'm a moron. originally, the next part was going to be a sort of multimedia thing, but after experimenting with it and trying to type a huge chunk of it out, it turned out to be flat out boring, so i thought about it and realized that i had better ideas and better executions i could pursue that had a much better feel, so the next few parts are going to be straight text, but will probably work out better in the end on account of my original idea being plum redonkulous. also, it means that i can just run with this thing to the end without much hassle (the end is near for this chapter). i don't like posting anything under 2200 words (this batch was around 2700), but try not to go over 3200, though i might make an exception for the last parts and just see how much i can do without being too long-winded with it.

thank you for reading this far about a girl who doesn't exist in a school that doesn't exist in a fanfiction which mainly involves characters that are not in the game.

fixed the minor typos i missed from the rewrite. i've also added a few little things that i'd originally forgotten to add in other posts.