Real (A Suzu/OC Story) Chapter 16 Now Up

[DanjaDoom]

Herro everyone. So I've been lurking the board for a while, just got off my lazy ass to join and figured I'd write a story.

Now yes, this does contain an OC, and I know how everyone feels about them, but, well, eh...

Anyway, comments and critiques are appreciated, even if you tell me I'm horrible and should an hero. This is my first long story in a while, so I may be a bit rusty. If you think I could tweak anything to improve, lemme know.

Chapter 1:Gimme Danger, Little Stranger
Chapter 2:War Dance
Chapter 3:Creatures of the Night
Chapter 4:She Said She Said
Chapter 5:Blues
Chapter 6:Moving Pictures
Chapter 7:Dream (When You're Feeling Blue)
Chapter 8:Can't Snuff The Rooster
Chapter 9:Doublewhiskeycoffenoice
Chapter 10:Cloud Mojo
Chapter 11:Faith No More
Chapter 12:Fluorescent Adolescent
Side 1:Dust Mite Supernova
Side 2: Burning Satellite of Love
Chapter 13: Sirius
Chapter 14: Sirius, Part 2
Chapter 15:Nobody Likes You When You're Eighteen
Chapter 16:Trina, a.k.a Master Splinter's Daughter

Chapter 1: Gimme Danger, Little Stranger
“Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

I knew this whole thing was a giant farce, but I still didn’t expect him to start off with such a cliche line. Everything in this room, the air, the neutral white walls, the god-awful brown plaid suit my psychiatrist is wearing, reeks of being artificial.

“Well...”

I pause.

What canned line am I supposed to answer him with?

“The walls are closing in on me, every agonizing moment I’m awake I feel the cold, damning touch of death against my throat, and this couch is making my back sweat.”

As expected, his eyes widen in their droopy sockets, and his next sentence comes out as a stammer.

“I-I’m sorry?...”

“Just playing. Honestly, though, I can’t see the point of me being here...I mean, it’s been three months since the accident. No matter how many times I’ve told my parents I’m over it, they still think I’m a second away from downing Bacardi and painkillers and jumping off the roof.”

He looks up, not too amused by my little joke, but says nothing for a few moments.

“I can’t help you if you don’t help me,” he finally says.

Help? Seems like everyone’s wanted to “help” these past few months.

If you just let us help you...

Helping them to help me with something I don’t need nor want help with? It makes no sense really. Then again, nothing's really made a whole lot of sense since-

“Your fall.”

“What?”

“Your fall. Would you like to discuss it?”

“Can’t say I would...”

“Talking may help you get through this.”

Help. HelphelphelphelpHELP.

“Listen, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I’m telling you, all I need to sort this out is some... me time, y’know. Just me, myself and I, that’s the best medicine for me. So, uh, yeah...”

I was hoping to finish it off with a sprinkle of “oomph,” let him know I was serious. But, as usual, I fall short in the end. It’s always been a bad habit of mine.

His skeletal fingers twiddle with one of the many wooden bird miniatures that adorn his office. In what’s become my signature bored-to-death routine, I run my hand through the dark, reddish-black hair atop my head, comb down my sideburns, and scratch at the stubble upon my chin.

Before long,I reach my left eye.

The truth is, a part of me still hasn't come to terms with it. A stubborn, bull-headed part, sitting away in the corner while all the other parts socialize and feel sorry for the poor little boy, wallowing in self-pity. But, as I always say, even if you admit defeat to yourself, don’t admit it to your enemy. Granted, the Crypt Keeper in front of me isn't much of an adversary, but the phrase still stands.

Dr. Name-Too-Complicated-To-Remember excuses himself for a short while, imploring me to have a drink and regain myself. A full five minutes after he leaves, I decide to heed his advice and pour myself some coffee from a nearby machine. I've never enjoyed black coffee myself, and this cup, a soothing blend of charcoal and foot, apparently, isn’t helping to sway that opinion.

Opting to wander aimlessly around the room, I come to a splotched mirror on the wall, and find two eyes staring back at me. One is a relatively normal hazel eye,while the other is of a glassy white complexion, a single black dot floating lazily in the center. Its vision is blurry and tinted, like looking through a soft silk. The area around it is no better, a leathery and faded mess, stretching from the level of my eyebrow, down around the edge of my cheek, and circling up around my eye. A reminder of my stupidity I’d rather leave behind, but can’t seem to let go of.

Dr. What’s-His-Face returns from his trek and flashes me a polite smile.

“Well, Mr. Fukui, perhaps we shall continue?” he asks.

I offer up my own shit-eating grin, a technique passed down through the family line for generations and perfected to a science.

“Let’s.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aaron Fukui, you smarmy bastard, they actually listened to your advice.

A place of your own to “collect yourself” and overcome your undiscovered issues while playing video games and eating saturated fats all day?

Sounds too good to be true!

And it is.

It’s a school.

Fuck...

Granted, I shouldn’t have really expected to be let off easy for my studies. I’m in my last year, after all, which is apparently the year that defines how society sees you. Good luck, kid who let people kick you in the balls for money, you’re gonna go places. Putting on what I hope is my best “cool” look, I stroll in through the front doors of the school and make my way to the the front office. The appearance of the halls around me indicate that the school, at least indoors, is fairly modern, with some renovations to accommodate for the various needs of the students. Few of the aforementioned students are around at this point, though considering I’m here a good hour early, it makes sense.

The few students I do see, however, are certainly eye-catching. The clanking of metallic limbs and the whirring of electric chairs permeate through the air-conditioned hallways.

My mind suddenly comes to a revelation; Yamaku isn't normal.

Well, of course it isn't, I knew that. But it’s one of those things that doesn't hit you until later, like a bad hot dog from a movie theater that makes you hallucinate at one in the morning. I can’t help but think that my life from this point onward will consist of walking past weeping old ladies, dabbing at the corners of their eyes and pitying the “poor cripple children.”

Finally, an attendant emerges from one the rooms to my immediate right, letting me know that someone is available to see me. Wandering in, I see a surprisingly young woman with shoulder-length auburn hair seated behind a mahogany desk, typing away at her computer. Various packs of nicotine gum and styrofoam coffee cups fill the wastebasket on the floor next to her, and a loose toothpick dangles from the corner of her lips. Apparently the no-smoking policy in this school can really break people.

“Ah, Mr. Fukui! Please, take a seat,” she asks. “I’m Ms. Tanaka, your counselor. Must have been quite a trip, coming all the way from America.”

Admittedly, it was a pretty big leap. Japan’s the place of my birth, sure, but it’s never really felt like my “motherland.”

“Nah, I took a lot of naps on the way.”

Ms. Tanaka chuckles at this, and begins to search up my name in the school’s database. A somewhat long bout of silence emerges, with me drumming on my knees while she scans her eyes across the screen. Finally, she prints out a sheet filled with various pieces of information on it, including my schedule and room number.

“Planning on joining any clubs?”

I look up and shrug my shoulders.

“I never really liked to stay at school longer than I had to. I probably should have, looking back, but... oh well.”

“Well,you’re a pretty big guy, maybe you should try out for the wrestling team,” she says with a wink. Her carefree attitude is almost opposite of how I pictured the faculty of a Japanese high school would be, and it’s quite amusing really.

“I’ll keep that in mind,thanks.”

Deciding that she seems likeable enough, I elect to ask her what I’m really thinking in my head.

“So, uh, how’s the workload around here?”

She looks up at me and lets out a laugh, flicking her chewed toothpick into the nearby bin.

“Oh, not too different from other schools. The pace is a bit more relaxed though, to accommodate the various...needs, of the students. But, anyway, you’re only transferring in about two weeks into the year, so you shouldn’t have to worry much about making everything up. Trust me, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it here.”

The session goes on for a while, with Ms. Tanaka giving me the rundown of the various facilities and activities that Yamaku provides. Sharing an amiable goodbye, I head towards the third floor, with more students having now started to arrive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few students rush by me, apparently not having quite memorized the locations of their classes. I feel the urge to shrink back into the shadows, avoid the surging crowds and cling to the walls, but I doubt I could disappear even if I wanted to. Here, I stand a good head or two over most people; it’s a little daunting, and serves to remind me just how much of an outsider I really am.

Throwing away my now empty box of chocolate milk, I finally arrive at my destination: Class 3-3, taught by one Mr. Akio Mutou. Entering, I see a few people have arrived before me; a bespectacled girl with two different colored eye, a blonde haired girl alongside her, a rather fat kid in the back corner snoring away, and a brown-skinned girl wearing prosthetics. Deciding that the latter seems like the most inviting choice, I make my way over and take a seat next to her. Seeing me, she gives a warm smile and a nod.

“Hi there! You must be new, I haven’t seen you around here,” she says, closing up the textbook she was previously engrossed in.

Her voice contains a vaguely Indian accent, though otherwise her Japanese is impeccable.

“Aaron Fukui, I just transferred in today.”

The girl looks a bit surprised, but her expression soon changes to one of excitement.

“Oh, another exchange student! How wonderful!”

“Well, not technically an exchange student, but, uh... it’s complicated really.”

The girl gasps lightly and slaps the palm of her hand into her face.

“How rude of me! My name’s Molly, Molly Kapur.”

Before I can respond, I feel a weight shift a few feet next to me, and turn to see someone has occupied the seat next to mine; A girl with short blue hair, eyes half-closed in a dreamlike state. Her cloudy, emerald eyes just... float there. Everything about her seems surreal and out of place. Then again, I've always had something of a soft spot for surreal things. A lifetime of Space Ghost Coast to Coast does that to a guy.

The next moment, her pursed lips open a bit, and a wispy voice emerges through.

“Is there something in my teeth?”

“Wha-? Oh, sorry, just spaced out a bit...”

Perhaps sensing the awkward silence, Molly moves in to alleviate the situation.

“Fukui, this is Suzu Suzuki; Suzu, this is Aaron Fukui, he just transferred in today.”

“Suzu, huh? That’s a wonderfully alliterative name,” I say, trying to muster up some semblance of small talk, as pathetically cheesy as it may be.

Suzu gives me a look of confusion... or annoyance... or is it amusement? It’s a bit hard to tell with her, really.

“Fukui means ‘fortune’, doesn’t it?” she finally asks.

“Uh,yes?”

“If you’re here, you must not be very fortunate.”

Molly lets out a sigh and rubs her temples, apparently used to this rather blunt and odd behavior from her friend.

“Suzu, you can’t just talk to people like that, it’ll hurt their feelings!”

“He doesn’t look hurt,” she replies. It sounds a bit malicious, though judging by the soft edge to her voice, she most likely didn't mean it to be.

Before I can assure them that I’m not offended, I feel a strong pat on the back, followed by yet another girl rounding about to meet me face to face.

Her skin has the same brownish texture as Molly, though she doesn't seem to be a foreigner. Her left hand ends in a bandaged stump, which I try my best to avoid staring at. I don’t know how offended this girl can get, but she hits pretty hard, so I’d rather not find out. She flashes me a toothy grin, and delivers yet another solid pat to my shoulder.

“Miki Miura, at your service! Suzu here giving you trouble?”

I suddenly remember the other two girls alongside us. “Oh, it’s all good, she’s fine. I'm Aaron Fukui, by the way.”

Miki turns to give a half-hearted glare in Suzu’s direction.

“Suzu, you know if you keep messing with people, you won’t get a boyfriend! I mean, you already got Lezard to switch classes.”

“... Lezard?” I ask

“He’s the one who used to sit in your seat,” Molly replies

“Yeah, but... Lezard?”

Miki waves her right hand dismissively. “I think his parents were Slovakian or something. Anyway, I’m glad he’s gone, he was a total drama queen asshat.”

I chuckle a bit at Miki’s rather liberal use of language.

“All I said was his cologne smelled funny,” Suzu insists, a tiny hint of childlike innocence in her statement.

“I’m pretty sure the word was ‘like cow piss,’ not ‘funny,’” Molly says.

“Well,I was pretty mad at him for... something... I can’t remember.”

Just after she finishes her statement, Suzu lets out a mighty yawn before propping her head down and sleeping within the warmth of her arms. It’s a bit odd to see a girl fall asleep so quickly, but this being Yamaku, I’m trying to suspend my disbelief.

More and more students have started piling into the class, the last to arrive being the teacher himself, who lets out a rather half-hearted apology for his lateness.

Seemingly remembering that there’s a new student, he looks my way. “Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?” he asks in a mellow drawl.

Scanning around the room, all eyes are on me, save for a purple haired girl whose eyes are glued to her book, and Suzu and the fat kid, both sleeping with various degrees of subtlety.

No one looks to be particularly interested in who this new big guy is, so I politely decline.

Mutou, the science teacher, simply shrugs his shoulders. He fetches some make-up sheets for me to help me catch up, and begins his lesson for the day.

To my right I see Miki silently attempting to gain the attention of Molly, who diligently tries to avoid her... until a well aimed paper football smacks her in the head.

“What?!” she silently mouths

Miki holds up a crumpled paper with barely legible chicken scratch on it. Either she wasn't right handed before she lost her hand, or she just plain sucks at writing.

“Mall later?” it reads.

Molly quickly nods before returning to her studies.

Miki then turns her attention to me, nodding down towards the note. Already? I mean, I only got here today. Then again, hanging out at the mall with three cute girls isn’t really something you pass on. Besides. I may get to know Suzu better... if she wants to, anyway. I imagine Suzu would be like a porcupine. Pretty cute and cuddly looking, but those spines, man, those spines...

Or maybe I’m just overreacting. Suzu’s a bit blunt, to be sure, but she doesn’t seem to be particularly spiteful.

I nod over at Miki and look down on the sleeping figure of Suzu, her body moving up and down in a silent rhythm.

What’s your story, Morning Glory?

[The O.H.L.]

Nice story.
Just one critique, your OC seems to go straight to thinking about Suzu without any real explanation why.
That's my one and only critique because I love almost anything I read.
If you want real advic, wait for Mirage.

[DanjaDoom]

Yeah, I see where you're coming from. I kinda put that whole "wispy voice" line and Suzu's reply in as a joke,lol. Thanks for the critique though

[Mahorfeus]

Just one thing I spotted. You need spaces after your commas.

[DanjaDoom]

Just one thing I spotted. You need spaces after your commas.

d'oh, thought I got that. I'll fix it.

[Mirage_GSM]

If you want real advic, wait for Mirage.

Thanks for the vote of confidence, but there's not much I can say about the story yet.
No mistakes that jumped at me, nice writing style, and best of all you didn't feel compelled to spell out every last bit of background about yout OC during the first three paragraphs.
This is the second Suzu story to start in one day... Interesting.

[BlackRockHanako]

More Suzu is always fine

[DanjaDoom]

If you want real advic, wait for Mirage.

Thanks for the vote of confidence, but there's not much I can say about the story yet.
No mistakes that jumped at me, nice writing style, and best of all you didn't feel compelled to spell out every last bit of background about yout OC during the first three paragraphs.
This is the second Suzu story to start in one day... Interesting.

I know,it surprised me too. Probably why I rushed to finish the story this morning, lol

[DanjaDoom]

New chapter be all up in yo grill. Forgive me for any Street fighter mistakes, by the way.
Comments and critiques are greatly appreciated! *hint hint*

Chapter 2: War Dance

The next few hours consist largely of playing catch up on my school subjects. Just as Ms.Tanaka said, the pace is noticeable more relaxed here than my previous high school. Though I do find myself growing nostalgic for the hectic crowds, the crammed libraries, the assholes who would insist on stopping to talk in the middle of the hall, and other self-involved pricks.

The three amigas and I chat more between classes, and I learn that they've all know each other since last year, when Miki punched out a boy who was making fun of Molly for her legs. She received detention for her efforts, but she didn't seem to mind too much. Suzu, it seems, has always hung around Molly, if just for the fact that Molly’s the only one who actually took the effort to get to know her.

Soon enough, classes are finished for the day, and I start towards the boys dorm to check out my new room. The afternoon air outside is quite comfortable, and a vast array of colorful flowers grow across the school grounds; it seems like a scene straight out of a portrait.

The boys dorm seems fairly empty, with only a few inhabitants seated in the common room, watching a wrestling match on television. Double checking the sheet I received earlier, I make my way to my room on the second floor, which I note seems to have fewer rooms than the other floors. Apparently this floor is dedicated to the “isolationist” cases that pop up at Yamaku.

In my case, I’m defined as “socially uncomfortable and more adaptational in a closed-off environment.” I remember laughing harder than I had in a long while after reading that; it wasn't a particularly funny laughter, more bemused by the concept of “defining” someone on paper.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't realize that I’d gone few doors too far, and turned back to my room, 210. Exhaling a breath I didn't realize I was holding, I enter my new home.

It’s pretty roomy, about the expected size for a school dorm, and is fully furnished. A bed sits in the far right corner, a sleek, glass desk set up next to it. A 19-inch television is set up in the left corner away from the foot of the bed; a mini-fridge, a dresser, and various decor from my old room are also present. The walls are a rather pleasant shade of lime, which, I depressingly note, is a common color used in hospitals to soothe patients.

And this is what this whole thing is. A way to soothe over the suicidal nut job who’s ready to snap at a moment’s notice. At least, that's what it says on paper.

I take a seat on the bed to take a breather and collect myself. After all, I’m meeting with Miki and the others at the mall later on. What teenage boy gets upset over having to spend the day with three cute girls?

Oddly, even when I say “three”, my mind keeps panning back to one familiar mop of blue hair. Maybe this is just a result of out of whack teenage hormones, or maybe I’m just a sucker for the short, pale, and cute crowd. Either way, it’s about time to head out. Pulling out some jeans, grey and red Nike's, and a navy blue Zoo York shirt, I make for the school entrance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The bus stop is only a short walk from the dorms, and I find Miki, Molly, and Suzu already there waiting. Miki’s got on a Sex Pistols shirt,a pair of ripped jeans and red converse. Molly’s opted for a simple sundress, along with some stockings to cover her prosthetic legs. Suzu, meanwhile, wears a baby blue hoodie with some cargo shorts and sneakers. Molly is the first to see me, and gives an energetic wave.

“‘Bout time you showed up! If you keep people waiting like that, they’re gonna assume you’re doing something nasty in your room,” Miki says, a mischievous grin plastered on her visage.

We've known each other for literally a day and she’s already making masturbation jokes. I guess Miki isn't one for social tact.

I smirk in response.

“Well, if I was doing that, it wouldn't be because of you.”

Miki shoots me a playful glare and gives me a punch to the shoulder.

“If it wasn't her, which one of us was it?”

This comes from Suzu, who I’m convinced has set out to make any situation she’s involved in as uncomfortable as possible. Molly, for her part, looks aghast. I suppose she’s the “straight man” in this little comedic equation. I decide to try a little humor myself.

“Oh, most definitely you Suzu, totally.”

She simply stares at me in response, her eyebrow raising ever so slightly. I find myself going red and praying that she doesn't take my words at face value. Thankfully, the arrival of the bus cuts short our awkward silence, and, being the gentleman and scholar that I am, allow the girls on board first.

After a good and thorough digging of my pockets to pay my bus fare, I make my way towards the back where the rest of the group is located. Miki hurriedly occupies a seat next to Molly, shooting a knowing glance in my direction.

Confused, I notice that there’s only seat left unoccupied. Next to Suzu.

You bitch...

Nonetheless, I calmly take my seat, not even suggesting that I’m uncomfortable with this.

Even if you admit defeat to yourself, don’t admit it to your enemy...

I try to relax, slump down a bit in my seat, but I find myself stiffening up whenever Suzu is in my view.

“You’re being irrational,” I tell myself, though I can’t bring myself to believe it.

“I mean, the chances of her thinking you’re a creepy sex fiend are, uh... yeah, she thinks you’re a sex predator. Do they have restraining orders here in Japan?”

SHUT UP HEAD.

“I’m just saying...”

I discreetly peer to my side, wondering how Suzu is taking this whole deal. As my head turns, however, I feel a weight hit my shoulder. Suzu’s weight, to be exact.

What.
WHAT.

I feel the proverbial butterflies swarming around in my stomach like a mosh pit. As discreetly as can be, trying my best to remain still, I turn my head to see the sleeping form of Suzu.

Her breathing is coming out in soft intervals, her lips parted in a tiny slit. Her hot breath, admittedly, feels quite nice. I notice Miki begin to stir in the seat directly in front of me.

Please don’t turn around, please don’t turn around.

She turns around.

Godammit.

Her brown eyes dart back and forth between the slumbering form of Suzu and myself. Her face morphs into perhaps the greatest shit eating grin I've ever seen in my life.

“Awwww,” she mouths, and I’d be glaring right now if my face wasn't permanently stuck with the “deer in headlights” look.

Deciding to alleviate my nervousness, I retrieve my ipod from my pocket and give it a listen.

Much to my amusement, the first song that comes up is Absolutely (Story of a Girl).

Life seems to have a funny sense of humor sometimes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The atrium in the mall is deceptively large, towering over many of the artificial trees inside. I decide to trail behind the rest of the group, seeing as I know shit all of where I’m going.

“Did you have many malls back where you came from?” Molly aks.

I’m actually starting to like the girl, if just for the fact that she hasn’t tried to make my life hell or nearly given me a heart attack like her two compatriots.

“One or two; I liked going, but it was always hard to find a ride in that town...”

Molly nods before heading over to the mall directory. Suzu, I notice, is clinging oddly close to Miki, almost leaning on her, as she did with me.

Once I’m confident the two of them are out of earshot, I whisper in Molly’s ear.

“So, about Suzu, was that?...”

“Normal?” Molly whispers back. I nod.

She gains a somewhat sad smile and leans into my ear.

“Suzu has narcolepsy.”

Narcolepsy, narcolepsy...

After searching a bit in my memory banks, I remember seeing Rat Race about a week ago, and it clicks.

“That’s that sleeping illness, right?” I whisper.

Molly nods and leans in once again. “Suzu can fall asleep at any moment, so if she happens to fall asleep on you, it probably doesn't mean anything.”

Doesn't mean anything...

I snap out of this thought and nod at Molly, who offers a reassuring smile in return.

Surprisingly, I see only a few stares emanating from the surrounding crowds. This city must be at least somewhat used to Yamaku students coming here. Of the stares I do notice, a few seem to be envious glances in my direction from a group of boys.

Well, it’s OK to be smug sometimes.

After about five minutes of walking, Molly stops to excitedly point out a store. The phrase “disgustingly cute” would probably be the most fitting description for it. Just about everything in it is a sunny yellow, and stuffed animals of varying sizes dot the display windows.

Miki, for her part, looks nauseous.

“Molly, come on, you really wanna go in there? That place is for babies!”

“Is not! It’s for like-minded collectors such as myself!”

Miki gives an incredulous stare into the store.

“Yeah, that five year old picking his nose looks like one shrewd customer. Maybe you can trade some tips with him!”

Molly shoots a rather impressive glare Miki’s way before grabbing her forearm and dragging her towards the store. Considering the size difference between the two, it’s pretty impressive.

“Suzu, help me!”

Suzu, currently preoccupied with pressing the “Try Me!” button on a stuffed penguin, fails to hear Miki’s pleas.

Miki turns to me next, only to be met with a grin of the shit-eating variety.

Revenge is sweet.

Suzu has since moved to a nearby bench, knees drawn up to her chest, chewing on one of her drawstrings. It’s pretty cute to be honest.

I take a seat next to her, shoving my hands in my pockets and clicking my tongue in a vain attempt to act casual. Suzu looks over in my direction, and the drawstring drops from her mouth. I’m not expecting her to jump in my lap and listen to a story or anything, but it’s nice to know she’s listening...maybe.

“Suzu, look about earlier, I-”

“Your shoulder's comfortable.”

Aaaand there goes that.

“... Comfortable,huh?”

“Sure. I mean, Miki’s ok, but she moves too much. Molly’s short, she makes my neck hurt. You, though, you’re pretty good.”

I can’t say I’ve ever had someone describe a body part of mine as being “comfortable,” but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.

“Well, I appreciate the fact that you enjoyed my... shoulder,” I manage to blurt out.

An awkward silence, as if there’s any other kind with her, emerges.

Finally, she speaks. Her tone seems off somehow, but I can’t pinpoint it.

“Then you know?”

I run a gamut of words to say, something to the effect of “I’m sorry.” I quickly throw these thoughts away, however. Something tells me the students at Yamaku don’t appreciate the pity of anyone, though I doubt Suzu would care either way, at least not outwardly.

“Yeah,” is all I manage.

Suzu says nothing for a while, before suddenly grabbing my hand and leading me onward.

“Mind telling me where we’re going?” I ponder aloud.

Suzu glances back at me and offers a tired smile.

Eventually we reach a packed area of the mall, with the ratio of young people to old having tipped dramatically.

“The arcade?”

Suzu simply nods in response to my question. She doesn't really strike me as the video game type, though I suppose you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

The blue-haired enigma darts inside, and I find myself almost jogging to keep up.

The arcade is, predictably, filled to the brim with kids of varying ages. I finally spot Suzu, thanks in part to her unique hair color.

She’s standing near a black and gray machine, with various portraits surrounding the monitor. I feel a wave of nostalgia hit me as I see the title.

Street Fighter 2: Champion Edition.

The machine looks to be fairly old; the monitor is smudged in various places, and the paper instructions are faded to the point where some parts are unreadable. Nonetheless, it still seems to be in good working condition.

Suzu occupies the player one side, while I take player two. At the selection screen, she opts for Chun-Li, while I pick my old favorite, Sagat.

One competitive smirk later, and the game is on.

We wind on the Chinese street stage, Chun-Li’s signature, and waste no time in going at it. The screen becomes a flurry of Tiger Knees and Spinning Bird Kicks. For every Tiger Shot I fire her way, she fires back with a Kikoken of equal force. I find myself flabbergasted at the skill she’s demonstrating. It may sound a bit sexist to admit it, but I never expected a girl like Suzu to not only play Street Fighter, but thoroughly kick my ass at it. Where does she get the time?

Suzu seems to take note of my momentary distraction, and takes advantage with a debilitating Senretsukyaku for the win. I give her a friendly, competitive glare, which she answers in kind--though with her perpetually tired face, it comes off a bit humorous.

The second round begins, and it acts out much like the first one. I have her backed against a wall, and she’s desperately firing off Kikoken to keep me at bay. Her efforts prove to be futile, and I quickly gain the upper hand with a series of Tiger Uppercuts followed by a painful Tiger Genocide to seal the deal. The round goes to me.

We seem to have attracted a crowd, as a large group of middle schoolers are gawking and pushing each other to get a glimpse at the screen.

The final round soon begins, and it’s predictably the most hectic of them all. Suzu’s carefully orchestrated offense begins to soften a bit, and her brow begins to furrow in frustration. Beads of sweat begin to form on my brow, and I do my best to ignore them.

My technique has become little better than button mashing at this point, like an animal fighting for survival. Suzu, however, seems just as graceful and technical as ever.

Her fingers are dancing gracefully across the board, tapping away at the buttons with a silent rhythm, delicately moving the joystick to and fro. It’s the direct opposite of my clunky and forceful movements.

It’s like a war dance. Beautiful yet deadly.

Once again my over-dramatic inner monologues prove to be my undoing, as Suzu punishes me for my distraction by finishing me off with yet another Senretsukyaku. The final round, and the victory, goes to Suzu.

The dozen or so patrons who have gathered to watch us begin cheering, and Suzu’s cheeks go light red as she rubs the back of her neck.

“Good game Suzu! You really kicked my ass back there.”

She offers a slight smile in return, still a bit red-faced over the attention she’s receiving.

“I took you here because you’re a sad clown.”

I...what?

“Care to explain that one?”

“You like to joke a lot. Try to make people laugh. I think you should make yourself laugh more. It’d help you out a lot.”

I think over Suzu’s words, and find that she may just have a point. But then, there’s that word she used.

Help.

Do I really need the help?

My train of thoughts are interrupted by a sharp feeling in my lower abdomen. Excusing myself, I rush off towards the little boys room.

After “relieving” myself and exiting the washroom, I come face to face with two familiar faces.

“Have fun?” Miki asks, Molly following closely.

I notice that they seem to be blocking the narrow hallway leading to the washroom, as if trying to impede my exit. Granted, I could probably push past them with ease, but I’d rather not test out Miki’s punching arm.

“I did, as a matter of fact. Enjoy the teddy bears?”

Miki’s expression turns sour, and she puts on what I can only call an “intimidating” face. Molly attempts to do the same, though it comes off as being more adorable than threatening, especially with the stuffed pink elephant cradled in her arms.

“Alright, so on to the real reason we brought you here.”

Real reason? I can’t say I like where this is going.

“Look,” Miki continues, “Suzu’s, well, a bit odd.”

I could have told her that.

“Anyway, me and Mols just think she could...use somebody in her life,y’know?”

I really don’t like where this is going.

“Look, I’ll just cut to the chase. We've been trying to find a boyfriend for Suzu for months now. We've taken almost every boy in the class out, and none of them even made a dent with her! Hell, we even took Taro out bowling, and he ate just about everything at the buffet! I had to survive on Doritos for a whole two weeks after that! Hopeless, the lot of them...”

I attempt to wrap my mind around this ridiculous and equally convoluted plan. I can’t, as it turns out, and I rub my now throbbing head.

“So, what, you’re her matchmakers? And this whole thing was a test?”

The two girls glance at each other a bit before nodding.

I can’t help but feel offended by this whole thing.

“Don’t take it the wrong way though!” Molly quickly adds, as if sensing my displeasure. “We really did want to get to know you, you seemed like a nice guy!”

“You’ll forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical about that...”

Miki interjects once again.

“You’re perfect! I can see it in her eyes! She wants you to throw her on her bed and take her maidenhood, you stud! You two are perfect for each other!”

She announces this like a game show host announcing a contestant’s prize.

As moronic as that whole thing sounds, I admit to getting a little red in the cheeks at the thought of maiden Suzu.

Molly nods enthusiastically as Miki continues.

“I mean, you’re like Romeo and Juliet, Sid and Nancy, Cable and Deadpool!”

“Romeo and Juliet kill themselves, I’m not even going to touch that second one, and the third one... what?”

Miki lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Alright, fine, have it your way. But when Suzu winds up a lonely, crazy old woman with no better half, I’d say you’ll be feeling preeeety bad...”

I roll my eyes and head back to the arcade. As miffed as I am with Miki and Molly for setting this whole thing up, I can’t help but take some of their words to heart. I can’t really deny it anymore; I have a thing for Suzu. I mean, if a riveting game of Street Fighter can’t bring a guy and girl together, what can?

I see Suzu waiting for me in the arcade, propped against a broken down House of the Dead machine. I wave over to her, and she offers me one of her signature tired smiles.

I can say for certain, I absolutely love it when she smiles.

[MystiKnight]

Yay, another chapter, sweet! Suzu is so damn adorable!

Right, now I have to let my perfectionist out..

so if she happens to fall asleep on you, it probably doesnt me[an] anything.

Also, 'because I know shit all of where I'm going.' Am I reading this wrong, or did you mess it up?

[BlackRockHanako]

Yay, another chapter, sweet! Suzu is so damn adorable!

Right, now I have to let my perfectionist out..

so if she happens to fall asleep on you, it probably doesnt me[an] anything.

Also, 'because I know shit all of where I'm going.' Am I reading this wrong, or did you mess it up?

Think something's not right there, to keep it in the same spirit, I guess I'd put it as:

'because I have fuck all idea of where I'm going.'

Which seems to be a more familiar way of wording it, at least to me.

[DanjaDoom]

Yay, another chapter, sweet! Suzu is so damn adorable!

Right, now I have to let my perfectionist out..

so if she happens to fall asleep on you, it probably doesnt me[an] anything.

Also, 'because I know shit all of where I'm going.' Am I reading this wrong, or did you mess it up?

I looked up "shit all' on urban dictionary,and apparently it actually is a phrase,lol

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=shit-all

[MystiKnight]

Haha, okay. Just wanted to make sure. The sentence makes a whole lot more sence now.

[Doomish]

I am enjoying the hell out of this story so far. Keep it up!

[DanjaDoom]

I am enjoying the hell out of this story so far. Keep it up!

ZOMG Doomish commented on my story asdhasmhioacn!!1! *head explodes*

I kid, I kid. Thanks for the support though Doom, I'm liking your Mutou story

While I'm at it though, how do you link to different chapters?