Regrets (One Shot)

[FluffandCrunch]

EDIT: Got stuck in the middle of my newest fic, so I decided to hammer out something from scratch as fast as possible to get things going again. This is what I turned out. Ended up working on it for about a half hour. Probably should have spent more time, but I just wanted to share with you guys.
Comments, criticism and tips are always appreciated.

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Regrets

All the contingencies were prepared for this eventuality.
This occurrence wasn't totally unexpected. You put a few hundred teenagers together into one place, each one with their own infirmity or trauma and it's inevitable that one or two of them are lost.
Statistics don't lie.
The numbers always tell the truth.
Police are called, paramedics arrive to take the body quickly and quietly away, teachers are briefed on how to announce the death to the fellow students and counselors are ready and in place to be deployed at a moment's notice.
Everything is handled with a fine precision, with a clear professionalism.

Except this part.
Mutou sits in a small, dark office just off the teacher's lounge, the door locked and window curtains drawn. The only light is the dusty beams which filter through the thin shades and the red, mournful glow of a cigarette which he stamps out in a glass ashtray. He's been staring at the phone in front of him for an hour now. On the table is a piece of paper with the parents names on it, their phone number and anything else he may need for the difficult conversation ahead.

Everything except for what he's supposed to say.

The science teacher hangs his head, whispering the words to himself over and over again so that by the time he works up the courage to use them, they'll be as polished as they possibly can be.

“Mr. and Mrs. Nakai, I'm afraid I have some bad news about your son....“

He groans and lets his head roll back.

“Mr. and Mrs. Nakai, I have something to tell you and I'm afraid it's not good....“

The words don't taste right.

“Mr. and Mrs. Nakai, there's been an accident at the school and your son was involved. I'm very sorry....“

He hisses in disgust and lights another cigarette, taking a drag long enough the make the tiny red glare flare up into brilliance.
Mutou sighs and stares at the ceiling.

He should have reached out to him.

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Early morning, before the rest of the school is awake, Emi leaves the Nurse's office, her prosthetic legs firmly in place, her morning run ahead of her.
She isn't looking forward to it as much as she used to.

Arriving at the track, she finds it colder and emptier than usual.

Sitting down on the bench, she looks around, seeing no one in sight. This early in the morning, it's unlikely any students, even the other track club members would be up and about.
If this were any other day, she would sit down on this bench and wait for him. Then he'd show up and she'd cheerfully say, “You're late!” and he'd ironically respond, “You're early!”
She giggles and tries to keep the little sobs from coming out.
She could have easily gotten her run in before he even arrived and be back in the dorm ready for class, but she wanted to wait for him, she wanted to run with someone, even if they weren't able to keep up with her.

She'd be waiting forever now.

The cold bench underneath her, Emi looks up and down the deserted track.
Nurse asked her to look after him. All she ended up doing was deserting him. She was too busy running to realize that he was falling behind. She should have noticed the way he gave up on the track. He looked so upset that he couldn't do it and he never tried again.
She hates to see people give up, but she never stops long enough to help anyone. Never gave him a chance to keep up. Maybe she should have slowed down for once, to encourage him, to help him with whatever it was that was eating away at his spirit, the thing that made him give it all up.
She knows sometimes she wants to give up, but she can't. She has to keep running.
He gave up. He quit and never tried again.

I should have been there, she thinks. I should have helped him out.
She'll never be able to have lunch on the rooftop with Rin again. She'll have to find a new favorite place to eat.

Emi sniffles a bit and heads back to her dorm, the track untouched.
She should have helped him stand up for himself.

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Lunchtime, the tea room. Hanako prepares the tea and Lilly pours with the usual efficiency and prim exactness, the twin curls of steam rising up and around their heads. The comfortable routine though lacks it's usual warmth, now only a series of mechanical movements used to get the job done in as little time as possible.

They don't set up the chess set and neither of them has said anything since they arrived, neither daring to break the topic on both their minds or disrupt the comforting silence.

Hanako stares down into her tea, the swirling color absorbing her attention. Lilly holds her teacup gently in her hands but has yet to take a sip of the delectable mixture.
The liquid tastes bitter and unpleasant in her mouth.

“L-Lilly?” Hanako whimpers.

Lilly looks up towards Hanako, unsure whether she's relieved the other girl is speaking or not.
“Yes, Hanako?”
Hanako hesitates, her eyes looking everywhere but at Lilly. She covers her face, as if it could shield her from any possible ridicule for bringing the subject up.
“Can w-we talk about it?”

Lilly manages to smile, her heart tightening in her chest. She keeps her voice steady for Hanako's sake.
“Of course, Hanako. You can say whatever you want. He was in your class, after all. I imagine it was very upsetting for you.“

Lilly hears the rustle of Hanako's hair, a quick nod of affirmation.
“E-everyone was really surprised. Th-they were sad, too.“
Hanako cringes in her seat.
“I-I was s-sad, too.”

Hanako looks up at Lilly.
“He t-talked about books with m-me. He l-l-liked to read.“

“What books did he like, Hanako?”

She shrugs.
“Science f-fiction mostly, I th-think.”

She looks up at Lilly.
“I-I think I'll r-read the books he suggested.”

Lilly smiles at Hanako, a sad little twinge to the expression.
“I think that would be a very nice thing to do, Hanako.“

There's a pause.
Lilly can tell Hanako wants to say something more. There is a difference to the styles of her silences.
“Do you want to say something else, Hanako?” Lilly asks.

Lilly hears Hanako whimper from across the table and she's afraid she pushed the girl too far. Heaven knows she's holding her own feelings about the situation back.

“I...I r-really l-liked him. H-he was-n-n-nice.”

Lilly's chin quivers and she turns towards the warmth of the window, hiding her tears from Hanako.

“Yes, Hanako,” she sighs.
“He did seem to be a very nice young man.”

Their guilty thoughts go unspoken.

She should have seen something was wrong.

She shouldn't have been afraid.

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The empty easel lies untouched, flat on the ground. Poised a few millimeters above it, Rin holds the paintbrush between her toes, waiting for that lightning strike, that moment of clarity to hit as she places paint to parchment, for that magical moment where she ceases to be.
It never comes.

Usually the images would come flowing out of her, unbidden and unstoppable. So fast and swift she would lose herself to their power and cease to be a girl who was painting. She would become the painting itself, the pigments and chemicals showing an unstoppable and undeniable reflection of her in a way that she was unable to express using fumbling words or even begin to understand in a communicable way.

The paint drips on the white surface but holds no meaning.

She wants to paint, she does. But she has nothing to paint with.
You can't pour water out of an empty glass.
That's what the glass is for, to hold and then pour out. If there's nothing in it, it can't do what it was made to do. There's no water, no substance within, so how can you expect to get something out? If it can't do what it was made to do, then is it what is was to begin with? Is the glass real?
It's not a question anymore of half full or half empty. It's all empty now. So then it's not a glass.
It's not a girl.
It's not a person.

Why can I only paint what's on my mind, she thinks?
She tried to paint before, but everything came out in tall towers and falling people and angry red splotches of something sticky and warm.
Nomiya took them away before any other students saw them, hiding them in a storeroom so they wouldn't become upset over what Rin painted. The fact they exist at all makes Rin upset herself.

She wants to make something for him, but she can't find it, can't get her grip on what it means. He helped her with the mural. He didn't seem upset then, just slightly bored. That was all right though, she spends most of her time being slightly bored.
It was interesting being bored together.

Rin sighs and drops the brush, the paint and stick clattering to the ground. Hopping out of her stool, she leaves the classroom.
The Worry Tree is going to get a lot of use the next few days.
She should have shown him the Worry Tree.
Maybe that would have helped him.

Why didn't she seize the chance when she had it?

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Misha wrings her fingers together, walking up and down the hall of the girl's dorm, pacing back and forth in front of Shiichan's room. She wasn't in class, she wasn't at the Nurse's, she wasn't at the Student Council room, she hasn't been seen anywhere.
Misha had come to her room in a last ditch attempt to find out where Shiichan went. No one had seen her all day.

She found the door locked and though she knew it was pointless, she still banged on it and shouted for Shiichan to open up. Even if she was in there, Misha would never know. Either Shiichcan wasn't there, she didn't know Misha was outside or she refused to answer. None of the options make her feel any better.

When teacher had told them what happened, Misha hadn't signed to Shiichan right away. She had been so surprised by Mutou's announcement, she froze up. Shiichan was angry with her. Everyone in the classroom was upset, some of them were crying and she didn't know what was happening.

When Misha was finally able to tell Shiichan, she refused to believe her. It was the first time in her life that Shiichan didn't trust Misha's signing. She got up in front of the class and made Mutou write it on a note for her.

She looked sick after that and asked to be excused to the Nurse's, but Shiichan never arrived.
Misha sits down with her back against Shiichan's door.
She'll have to come here eventually, she thinks as she curls up into herself and starts crying.

Inside, Shizune lies on her bed, buried under her sheets in a tiny ball. She soundlessly cried for a few hours here, the room dark, the door locked and the windows drawn. She doesn't have any more tears left.

Was it her fault, she thinks to herself? Did she push him too much? She knew she could be competitive and brash, some even thought she was a bitch, but she never thought it would be enough to push people away like this.
She just wanted to hang out with him. She didn't want to make him so upset.

Rubbing the dry tears furiously from her eyes, she knows she doesn't get along well with others. Misha is the only friend she really has.
Was it too much to ask for another one?

When he had introduced himself in class, she admits, she had been impressed by him.
She also thought he was kind of cute.

She gasps for air, a wheezing sound emerging from her mouth.
Right now, she wishes she could just hear herself cry.

She should have told him what she really thought.

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The last sane man on earth, he called himself.
Now he felt like he was slowly growing mad.
The chain link fence, the squeal of snapping metal, a long, silent pause and then a sick thud. The sounds were the worst part. They kept playing over and over again in his head.
The moment he vanished off the roof, Kenji knew something had gone wrong. Somehow he managed to make it all the way down from the roof and find him on the concrete.

It had taken some time.
Kenji has bad eyes.

The cops came and brought him here, leaving him in this tiny office all alone. They used words like 'accident' or 'suicide' or 'tragedy'.
That's what it was, a tragedy.
But an accident?
Accidents aren't anyone's fault.
This was his fault.

Kenji didn't know what it was about the kid who shared the hall with him. There was just something about the guy, something you instinctively knew you could trust. Kenji never told people about the conspiracy, about the paranoia, about being the last sane man on the planet. He'd thought that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't alone in this fight anymore.

A man who would stand beside him through thick and thin, good or bad. An ally, a true brother.

For the first time ever, he had a friend.
And he was gone.
And it was all Kenji's fault.

Kenji peels his glasses away, wiping the moisture from his face, his eyes staring bleakly ahead.

He never should have made a friend.

[Brogurt]

Man we aint never read post-hisao stuff before

Writing was very nice, but I kind of hope you weren't planning on rustling too many jimmies with this. It's just too commonplace nowadays.

[BobBobberson]

Heh, so is this like a bad ending to a harem route for Hisao? Because I would love to see a good ending for said harem route

But seriously, pretty good bad ending. Not sure how all the girls managed to like him, since he's usually on good good terms with at most two of the girls at once, but still I can overlook that.

[themocaw]

Nothing from Kenji's perspective?

[Mirage_GSM]

Well, I guess Kenji's locked up for pushing Hisao from the roof
There is much jumping back and forth between tenses in this story...

[Guestimate]

I don't see why the others are complaining, I liked it. I haven't seen a post-Kenji reaction short before. Interesting to see how big of an impact (no pun intended) he made even after just a week.

[FluffandCrunch]

Heh, so is this like a bad ending to a harem route for Hisao? Because I would love to see a good ending for said harem route

But seriously, pretty good bad ending. Not sure how all the girls managed to like him, since he's usually on good good terms with at most two of the girls at once, but still I can overlook that.

It's really more just reactions to the news that someone you had just met is gone. For some, like Shizune and Emi, it had more impact since they had an immediate reaction to Hisao. Shizune [WARNING: OPINIONS INCOMING] liked him from the start while Emi was there to watch his health. Others, like Lilly, may feel they failed to help someone who needed it or Hanako who missed out on a friend.

Nothing from Kenji's perspective?

...the fuck is wrong with me?
This will be remedied soon.

Well, I guess Kenji's locked up for pushing Hisao from the roof
There is much jumping back and forth between tenses in this story...

Damn it. Thanks for pointing that out, Mirage. I wrote this in less than ten minutes. Should have given it a proper twice over. Went back and changed it up. Hope it's a little better.
Third person past tense is a bitch.

More incoming.

[Bagheera]

Man we aint never read post-hisao stuff before

Writing was very nice, but I kind of hope you weren't planning on rustling too many jimmies with this. It's just too commonplace nowadays.

Useless, as always.

I liked it, though I don't see where you can go with it. Kind of a one-shot by its very nature.

[Mahorfeus]

Now I'm all melancholy.

Hisao survives the fall due to being drunk as hell in my head canon. XD

[Otakumon]

Good story, but why is Mutuo beating himself up about calling Hisao's parents? That's the principal's job.

[Brogurt]

Useless, as always.

I liked it, though I don't see where you can go with it. Kind of a one-shot by its very nature.

If you're calling my post useless for no reason you need to stop getting so butthurt over the internet over something that probably happened a month ago.

sage

[Mahorfeus]

Good story, but why is Mutuo beating himself up about calling Hisao's parents? That's the principal's job.

The principal is a luchador. His fingers are too muscular to hit those pesky buttons.

[FluffandCrunch]

Good story, but why is Mutuo beating himself up about calling Hisao's parents? That's the principal's job.

The principal is a luchador. His fingers are too muscular to hit those pesky buttons.

That's what I was going for!

[andros414]

Good story, but why is Mutuo beating himself up about calling Hisao's parents? That's the principal's job.

The principal is a luchador. His fingers are too muscular to hit those pesky buttons.

That's what I was going for!

I just figured it was because Mutou was Hisao's homeroom teacher. :\

[BeastlyFerret]

I enjoyed this! It was pretty sad though