Agoraphobia [Mutou]

[Doomish]

I researched it, specifically. I myself live in constant fear of the unknown, but then, who doesn't?

[FishyBroski]

Doomish I love your fics they're so beautiful :')

[Not Cally]

Yay, more Mutou!

Always a good thing

[Breaker deGodot]

>tim buckley discovers katawa shoujo

Huh? How does Tim Buckley relate to KS? I mean, Tim and Jeff Buckley are awesome, but I don't get what you mean...

>Tim Buckley
>awesome

Eh, you'd better not talk like that here, there might be a shitstorm a-brewing.

In any way, words words words (as in B^U, right, Brogurt?), but really liked it.

I'm a fucking moron. I thought you were talking about Tim Buckley the songwriter, not Tim Buckley the Ctl+Alt+Del guy. Yeah, you're right about the possible shitstorm.

[Triscuitable]

I'll keep reading this.

You'd better not turn this into some horrific and depressing story at the very end, though.

[Doomish]

Chapter Two

Two days later, Ikezawa surprised me. I figured it would be a while before she came back to class, but it turned out to only be enough for her to recover. The whole period, I could see her staring intent daggers into the back of Nakai's head; I wasn't particularly sure what to make of it. When I assigned the group their reading and homework, they quickly got into their own little packs as always and got to work.

Except for Ikezawa.

As Nakai was harassed by Mikado and Hakamichi as per usual, Ikezawa stood from her desk of her own volition and began to walk out of the room. Her steps were cautious, slow, like she was trying to sneak by him. To my surprise, though, he noticed her just before she departed and beckoned her over. It was then that I got a better look at what Mikado was doing.

Like a child on the playground showing off a scrape, she had lifted her sleeve and was showing off her bandaged injury like a grisled war veteran. She flexed her bicep, and the cheshire grin on her face only got wider.
Ikezawa took one look at the wound and turned a very pale color. She looked as if she were about to vomit, and I groaned inwardly. The last thing I needed was a sick teenager to accompany the one who'd just been stabbed by her. Oh, I suppose I should refer to them by their first names; my apologies. I'm not used to informalities.

"Misha, I-I..." Hisao watched her as she stumbled over her next few words. "I, u-um..." She was looking at the floor the whole time, and I pretended to be reading my newspaper as per usual to avoid letting on that I was listening. The students don't think I pay any attention after I dismiss them, but they talk louder than they really know.

"I'm... s-sorry for... you know..." She motioned weakly to Misha's still-bared arm, still looking slightly ill. The dead look in her eyes started to diminish a bit when she put her sleeve down, but the apology hung in the air for a few moments; it was as if Misha didn't quite get what she was apologizing for. To be honest, she's not the brightest student. I've seen her copy Shizune's work and still write it down incorrectly. She means well, but it doesn't usually work out for her.

But, she let out that loud, boisterous laugh I know all too well. Spending more than one class period with that girl while being able to hear her would be torture on poor Shizune; I'm sure she's glad to be deaf sometimes, as morbid as I make that sound.

"Hanako~!" She crossed her arms, gingerly laying her fingertips over the forearm that held the injury. "I'm disappointed in you!"

"W-What?" Hanako looked dejected.

Misha chuckled again. "You don't have to apologize to me, silly~. I understand what happened completely; Shicchan explained it after you left!"

Hanako's eyes brightened a little bit. "O-oh."

I'm just going to come out and admit it before I explain what happened next: the sudden turn of events that followed her apology still astounds me to this day.

Misha turned back to her work, but Hanako looked like she had more to say. Hisao was watching her cautiously, and I'm sure he and I were thinking the same thing. If she said the wrong thing, she'd end up breaking down again. I could tell she was choosing her next words very carefully. She had a habit of contemplating her current state before doing one of two things: speaking and leaving class; and, this time, it didn't look like she was about to run for the door.
"W-Would..." Hanako rubbed her arm gently. "W-Would you and Sh-Shizune like to come to the l-library with me... later?"

Hisao's eyebrows rose in shock. He nudged her in the arm, whispering quietly. "Hanako, what're you doing?" His voice was quivering a little, whether out of fear of Shizune and Misha or out of concern for his girlfriend, I wasn't sure.

She struggled to smile at him. She herself was shaking, but determination lined her face. "I-I need a little... help on my h-homework."

Misha looked to Shizune, out of confusion and awe, and they signed back and forth for a minute or so.

Hisao, meanwhile, looked like he was having a mental breakdown of his own. "Hanako, are you... are you sure you're okay with that?"

She nodded to him. "Y-Yeah... I want to... get better."

Now it was my turn to be surprised. Getting this many words out of her was rare even if I addressed her directly in class. Hearing her actually converse with someone was a very interesting experience.

Just then, Misha turned back to the others. "Okay~! But on one condition!" Her smile was mischievous.

"What condition?" Hisao saw right through her, straight to the blue-haired deviant behind her.

But Misha was focused on Hanako. "You have to promise not to stab Misha this time~!" She added a 'Wait, I'm...' to the end, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"That's not funny." Hisao frowned. He leaned forward, giving her the same stare Hanako had given him earlier.

She held her hands up in surrender. "Take it easy, Hicchan~! I was just joking."

Hanako bit her thumbnail anxiously, weighing the choice in her mind very heavily. "A-Alright." She nodded, affirming it to both them and herself. "I-I'll meet you there... a-at lunch."

Hisao and I both shared the same look of anxiousness. As much as I don't want to admit it, I was very invested in this conversation now. If he had anything to say, he certainly wasn't showing it at the moment. I suppose it doesn't make me a very good teacher to be emotionally attached to my students, but I already knew what the meek girl being stared down at the moment could be like at her worst, and I didn't want to see that again.

No, I knew what the worst looked like. A few years ago, I came over to my then-girlfriend's house to find her locked in her room. Kiyoko had practically barricaded the door to keep everyone out, and her parents hoped I would be able to talk some sense into her. I was her closest, if not her only friend, and they were desperate.

I knocked on the door, and heard the clatter of furniture as she scrambled over to peer through the little keyhole. I caught a glimpse of one of her big blue orbs frantically glancing around, and then it disappeared back into the darkness.

"Go away, Akio!" She shouted, but it was muffled beyond the doorframe and whatever else she'd shoved in front of it. "You're not clean anymore!" I was confused. It was shortly after I'd learned of her illness, but before I'd learned just what being unclean meant to her.

"Huh?" I furrowed my brow. "Kiyoko, what are you talking about?"

I heard her stifle a sob, and then there was a thud from somewhere inside. "My room is the only safe spot right now, okay? Just leave me alone for a little while!"

I later found out that this was something that happened fairly often. Her own specially defined safe zone ranged from the edges of her yard to the bathroom leading off of her room, and it could grow or shrink at any moment depending on how she felt that day. Occasionally, she'd come out and lay in the grass with me- she had no qualms with it, as her whole yard was walled in by a large picket fence -and sometimes she's hide in the empty safety of her bathtub for hours on end.

I looked to her parents for advice, and they told me they had no idea what to do. She refused to even eat when her safe zone was this confined, and she could stay in her state for anywhere from hours to days.

So, I took it upon myself to rescue her. When I twisted the handle and found that the door wasn't actually locked, I heard her leap from her bed and rush forward to block my way before I could open it. I felt her body truck the door, slamming the little crack I had opened it back closed.

"I told you to go away!" She cried out, and we stood shoulder to shoulder, only separated by the wood between us. "Please, Akio, don't do this to me!"

Her father made an attempt to dislodge me from the door, but I was prepared to do anything for her, even if it required shoving them both off at once so I could get in and see her. I pushed harder, grunting this time. It really shouldn't have been that hard for me, but as I mentioned before, I was a skinny kid. I wasn't into sports, much preferring the calm whoosh of air as I ran round and round on the track. Track and Field was my home in high school, though I never pursued it professionally. I did it for fun, not because I wanted to do it for a living. That was something a lot of my peers didn't understand; I was more reserved than a lot of high schoolers generally are. I lived in the safety of my own thoughts, which I knew I could always trust, unlike other teenagers.

Regardless, I heard her gasp in horror as I gave one final shove and pushed her and the desk she'd moved in front of the door out of the way.

"Kiyoko!" I stopped her before she could flee to the bathroom, and she spun around. I saw terror lining the waters contained in her eyes, and when she saw I'd entered the room, she fell down onto her rear and scooted away from me, into the corner. Her breathing became erratic, panicky, and I suddenly felt bad for even trying to get in.

"Akio! Please, please leave!" She clutched her chest, squeezing her thighs together and bringing her other hand up to her mouth. She seemed to be desperately trying not to breathe the same air as me.

I took a step forward, still not comprehending why she wanted me to leave. "What's the matter? Why are you so afraid of me?"

Tears stained her cheeks now, and she sobbed in this awful, broken voice. "N-No, please, God, I don't want to die. I don't want to, I don't want to, I'm not ready." She quivered and shook, toes curling back as she furled more and more into herself.

This stopped me in my tracks. I cocked my head, baffled. "What... did you just say?"

She'd moved her hands away from her mouth, and they were now gripping the carpet so hard her knuckles were white. Her lips were starting to turn a light blue color, and I realized she was intentionally avoiding breathing. Her lids grew heavy, and I could do nothing but watch it happen.

She croaked out her plea again. "Akio, I'm... I'm begging you. Please, please get out of my room." Her voice was hoarse, and I realized she was only going to start inhaling again when I left. So, out of fear of harming her indirectly, I backed out of the room, watching her mortified expression the whole time. I shut the door behind me, and her parents walked away, off to pretend they hadn't seen anything happen.

I wasn't done yet, though. After a minute or two, I knocked on the door again. "Kiyoko." I let her name hang in the air, a physical presence among the silence. I pressed my ear to the door and listened to her cry for the longest time. It was awful knowing that I'd caused her to feel so miserable, and I promised I'd never make her cry like that again. Oh, how badly I ended up keeping that one.

For a while, neither of us said anything. I put my back to the door and slid down it, a million thoughts running through my head at once. It was the first time I'd ever seen her upset, and it was certainly taking its toll on my conscience. I felt a mixture of love and self-loathing, and though I felt like crying, I didn't. Crying is just something I don't do very often; I know how 'macho man wannabe' that makes me sound, but it's just because my eyes are naturally very dry. Real life is sometimes a lot more lame than the movies.

And, there I sat, waiting for her to speak to me again. It must have been at least a few hours, because her parents came upstairs to offer me dinner midway through. They asked her as well, but she pretended to be sleeping. Somehow I had a feeling that she wasn't, but it warded them off well enough. I declined, saying I wanted to be here for her should she decide she wanted to talk.

Kiyoko was never really one for talking when she didn't feel like it. I can force her to respond to me, sure, but there's really no point in it. Being forceful is bad on relationships, I've read. It's best to climb the hills as they come, and enjoy rolling down them when you eventually get to the top. I'm not very good with metaphors, but it worked well enough in that particular situation.

"Akio..?" She said, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Are you still... there?" Her voice was a meek whimper.

I breathed deeply. "Yeah." I nodded. "I'm still here."

"Good..." She whispered, so quietly I could barely hear it.

"I'll always be here." Melodramatic, sure, but it got the point across.

She sniffled. "Thank you."

And then we were silent again. I made a small noise, one of frustration. Keep in mind that this was before I found out the specifics of her disorder, so I was testing waters I thought were calm at the time. Little did I know the driving storms behind them were raging and angry; I'd find out soon enough.

"Out of curiosity... what happened?" I asked her, leaning my head to the side so I could hear her response better.

"You were infected, and... and my room was safe. I didn't want you to come in because I knew you weren't clean."

"Infected?" At first, I misunderstood. "Infected with what?"

"I can't really explain it, but I guess I'll try." She heaved a sigh before continuing. "Sometimes when I wake up, I just know it's not safe to leave my room. If I make contact with anyone who's not clean, I'll get sick. I can feel it." The way she said it was so matter-of-fact, as if it was something I should already know.

"How long have you thought that?"

I could almost hear her shake her head. "I don't think it, I know it. It gets so hard sometimes, Akio. I can't even see my parents because being around them will hurt me. People think I'm crazy, but I'm... I'm not, I... promise." Her voice broke on the word 'promise', and I heard her start sobbing again.

"I see..." I trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

She ignored her tears so she could finish. "It wasn't like this when I was younger. I don't know why it happens, it just does. I'll be better tomorrow, I swear, please don't leave me." Inbetween sobs, she muttered out how much she loved me and didn't want me to abandon her.

This honestly confused me. "Stop that." I frowned. This silenced her.

"I'd never leave you. I'd never even dream of it." I shook my head slowly, running a hand through my hair. Just the concept of it hurt me now that I saw what she could really be like. I wanted to be there for her, day in and day out. When the door clicked and opened behind me, slowly, I was confused. The weight left my back, and I almost fell over because of how hard I was leaning on it.

I looked up, and Kiyoko's broken, depressed face gazed back at me. She was still crying, silently now, and I stood up, backing a few steps away from her. Her shirt was over her mouth, held in place by a soft, slender hand, and she was trembling like a string on a recently strummed guitar.

"Hi." She squinted at me, her voice twisted with sadness.

"Hi." I responded, lost in her eyes as always. She tiptoed out into the hallway, muttered to me that it was safe for her to leave now, and laid her head in the crook of my neck. I hesitated, but wrapped my arms around her nonetheless, and then we crept downstairs to eat a late dinner.

The bell ringing drew me out of my thoughts. I didn't know how much conversation I'd missed, but Nakai- sorry, Hisao's voice alerted me to his continued presence.

"Hanako, are you positive you want to do this?" He murmured to her as they exited.

"I f-feel bad, and I w-want to make it up to her..." Her voice betrayed her inner emotions, shaking with nervousness as always.

I cleared my throat, catching Hisao before he could walk out. "Nakai, could I speak with you for a minute?"

He turned back, surprised, as if he'd just remembered something long forgotten. "Oh! I wanted to talk to you anyway; thanks for reminding me." He turned back to Hanako and gave her a sincere smile. "I'll meet you in the library next period."

"O-Okay." She nodded to him, and then shuffled out the door. We both watched her go, and then he gave me a look I couldn't quite place.

I motioned for him to go first. "Need any help on your own homework?"

He shook his head. "I wanted to thank you, actually. That talk you gave me the other day really helped."

I frowned. I hadn't planned for that; he had brought up the same topic of conversation I was going to bring up, and suddenly I felt very awkward.

"Really? How so?"

"Well..." He shrugged. "I thought about what you said, and I decided that I wanted to find out a little more about Hanako, so I did."

I chuckled. "Whatever you two talked about, it worked. I have to congratulate you, Nakai, I've never seen her so outreaching."

"All I told her was that I..." He cleared his throat. "That I liked her a lot, and the thought of her being afraid of the outside world kind of scared me just as much." He replaced the obvious word with 'liked', but I could tell straight away he'd said something much more poignant.

"Well, I wish you the best of luck, if that means anything to you." I gave him my default tired smile.

"Sure... What did you want to talk with me about?"

I shook my head. "Nothing important. You can go now."

Without another word, he nodded in thanks and fled out the door to go grab a quick bite to eat.

I spent my own lunch break that day doing some heavy thinking. I didn't eat anything; I wasn't much of a food maniac. All I needed was a little coffee to keep me awake through the latter half of the day. As I sipped it, staring vacantly out the window, I wondered how I was going to fix the mess I'd gotten myself into. Mentally, of course. Situationally, I was right as rain. I just happened to be lost in thought more often than usual, and wondering why only made it worse. The human condition dictates that we spend most of our waking hours worried about ourselves, and it also dictates that we should be worried about others at the same time. I wasn't sure which I was weighing on more heavily at the moment.

Kiyoko was on my mind through the rest of the day as a matter of fact. I wondered just how lonely it must be, and that particular memory coming back to me only made things worse. Being cooped up in the house day in and day out was bad for her, but then, so was the outside world. If I could convince her it wasn't dangerous, that there was no oddly selective invisible plague ready to kill her, perhaps I could get her to come with me. I had the utmost trust in her, but I somehow doubted she reciprocated it. She knew me well enough to be able to tell when I had something planned, and I'll honestly admit that I'm not really the sneakiest person out there. I'm just bold, sometimes lonely Akio Mutou, who runs out of coffee and dreads having to go get more. I stared down at the empty cup, sighing. I'd need to give the stuff up soon as it was starting to yellow my teeth a little. I never had a picturesquely dazzling smile, so to speak, but I'd rather not permanently stain myself because of a little caffeine addiction.

I was still thinking about that on the way out of the school, the drive home, and even when I walked in the door. I was so lost in thought, in fact, that I couldn't find Kiyoko initially. She wasn't in the living room, nor the bedroom. I wasn't looking actively for her, you understand, I just happened to pass by those specific parts of the house in a daze. I sat my coat down in its normal spot, and only then did I realize she hadn't come to the door to greet me as per usual. In fact, the house was eerily silent. The only thing I heard as I left the bedroom was the creaking of the floorboards beneath my feet. When I passed by the bathroom, I heard the squeak of the tub's faucet and let out that breath I'd been holding in.

"Akio!" She called my name in her normal sing-song-y tone. "You can come in if you want!" Her voice was gentle, pleasant. It was a nice, calm tone; womanly and at the same time sweet. It much reflected Kiyoko herself.

Ever since she'd bared herself for me those many years ago, she had no problem showing her nude body to me. In fact, she and I were particularly horny teenagers, something I'm not too proud of. I myself am more than a little self-conscious, but she was always open in more ways than one. In a way, she led our relationship by leaps and bounds, while I stuck into the background like the reserved young man I was. The first time we had sex was one of the most awkward moments of both of our lives, and I'll never forget it. I can't say it was a highlight, but at least we managed to do it correctly. The movies do not portray first-time sex as well as they could, believe me.

Regardless, I entered, if only to greet her and let her be on her way. She was relaxing, head barely above the bubbles and froth lining the water. Her eyes were closed in a peaceful state of mind, and she sighed happily as she smelled that familiar wafting trail coming off of my clothes.

"Oh, I love when you drink that dry roasted stuff." She took another deep sniff to get the whole aroma. I've tried to smell the coffee on myself before, but I just can't. I suppose it's because I'm used to it, so I can't really share in her various stages of ecstasy over it. It's kind of odd how addicted she is to the smell, as a matter of fact. Sometimes she asks me to brew her some coffee just so she can hover over the pot and take deep, gasping inhales of it. Considering how much she hates the taste of it, it's always been a surprise to me.

I smiled, but ignore her quip about the scent. "How was your day?"

"Not bad. Those telescope parts you ordered came today." Her mouth crept into a smile. She opened one eye to watch my face turn to childlike glee, which it did fairly quickly. "I sat them on the kitchen counter if you want to go assemble them while I finish up."

"Sure, sure. I'll leave you to your bubbles." I mock-bowed, which elicited a giggle from her. Without another word, I spun about, and went off to add the pieces to the monstrosity sitting out on the deck in the back yard. That's another one of my hobbies, stargazing. I like to keep my eye on things we by nature hardly know anything about; I'd definitely get a good look in tonight. Of course, first I'd have to add them to the thing, which would prove a daunting task.

A very, very daunting task.

[Brogurt]

You should make the flashbacks in italics or something so I don't have to read them

Also I think I mentioned this before, and it is largely irrelevant, but here it is with a bit more permanence. If someone is impaled by something, pulling it out is a great way to make them bleed out. Take it from someone who knows someone who worked as a paramedic for a number of years. A teacher -for a school that has people with disabilities like haemophilia, no less- should be trained better. Or does Mutou just hate Misha?

[Doomish]

Well, shit.

No worries, the face of realism has little place in the rest of my stories, why would it here? That's totally a good way to explain my shortcomings... right?

[themocaw]

Well, shit.

No worries, the face of realism has little place in the rest of my stories, why would it here? That's totally a good way to explain my shortcomings... right?

It's easily fixed. Just have Mutou send Misha to the nurse with the pencil still in.

[Doomish]

WELL, SHIT.

Had I realized the solution was so simple I'd have omitted it myself. Thank you for pointing it out for my dumb-as-rocks self, regardless!

[Mahorfeus]

If that's the most of your worries, then I think you're golden.

[Homeless]

I am in awe of your writing talents.

[Mirage_GSM]

Also I think I mentioned this before, and it is largely irrelevant, but here it is with a bit more permanence. If someone is impaled by something, pulling it out is a great way to make them bleed out. Take it from someone who knows someone who worked as a paramedic for a number of years. A teacher -for a school that has people with disabilities like haemophilia, no less- should be trained better. Or does Mutou just hate Misha?

I thought about commenting on that as well, but tbh, I'm not sure I would have let it in there in that case.
For one thing a pencil contains lead, and I'm not sure I'd want it in the wound for longer han necessary, for another he planned to have her head to the nurse's office, and having her walk there with the pencil in her arm would have carried the risk of someone brushing against it and making the wound worse.
Usually, you don't have people walk around with objects still sticking out of them.
Also, it's not like there are any major arteries running through the bicep.

[Exbando]

I thought about commenting on that as well, but tbh, I'm not sure I would have let it in there in that case.
For one thing a pencil contains lead, and I'm not sure I'd want it in the wound for longer han necessary, for another he planned to have her head to the nurse's office, and having her walk there with the pencil in her arm would have carried the risk of someone brushing against it and making the wound worse.
Usually, you don't have people walk around with objects still sticking out of them.
Also, it's not like there are any major arteries running through the bicep.

Wait, I thought pencils had graphite, not lead.

I am enjoying this story so far. Please don't make it sad, I've had enough of the sad endings to stories.

[BlackWaltzTheThird]

Indeed, pencils do contain graphite, contrary to the title 'lead' given to it. Perhaps once upon a time the lead of a pencil was actually lead, but that time is long gone.

Anyway, I'm liking this story. It's very interesting to read a story from Mutou's perspective, that's for sure. I like the characterisation of Mutou as having an agoraphobic wife. It's kinda funny how a chap who happens to marry a woman with a disability ends up teaching at a disabled school. Looking forward to another chapter soon!