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(Thank you everyone for the great feedback so far. In case of confusion, I'm turning this into something larger, so the first post now has all the information you might need.)


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I blink away sleep, and whatever might have come before is gone in an instant. My dream slips away from me before I can even think about chasing it. Light is filtering through the window of my bedroom, but to me the world consists entirely of the pillow pressed into my face, the mattress beneath me, and the warm web of my blankets wrapped around me. In this moment, I am completely sure that I have never been more comfortable in my life.

The pounding on my door continues, and I'm just as sure that I might never get this feeling back again. I can only manage a groan in response as I grab my pillow and bury my head beneath it, thinking about all the things I would do if only it meant I could go back to sleep. I would push a kid in a wheelchair down a hill in a heartbeat. Ten more minutes.

The banging on my door ceases, replaced by the click of a key entering the lock. I know who it is before the door even opens, only one other person has a key to my room, a fact that I now regret immensely. It's normally not a bad thing, on some mornings it's particularly hard to get up without Miki dragging me out of bed. But a sidelong glance at the clock on my nightstand reveals that it's too early to even be getting up for school.

I let out another groan. Whatever the reason is, there's no way it's good enough.

The door finally swings open, and Miki saunters in.

“Wake up, buttercup. It's a bright new--whoa.” The surprise in her voice forces me to remove my head from my pillow-shaped sanctum. Miki is glancing around my room with mild disbelief.

“What's the matter? And why are you here so early?” I try to construct a fort out of the deepest, warmest layers of my blankets. Outside my window, birds are chirping. I'd push ten kids in wheelchairs down a hill for five more minutes. Maybe.

“I'm just not used to seeing this place so clean. It's almost like... almost like..” I hear her footsteps race over to my bed, and a hand pries the pillow away from me. Miki is looking at me, head slightly bent, her eyes wide with a mix of wonder and admonishment. I stare back with eyelids composed of pure lead, the morning sun's rays stinging painfully.

“You didn't.”

“I... what? What didn't I do?” I croak. It is far too early to be having a conversation like this. Somewhere, a rooster is crowing, I'm sure. I almost shudder at the thought.

“So you're telling me you didn't clean up this warzone so that you could bring a certain classmate back here after the festival?” Miki flashes a conspiratory grin.

“What? No. God no.” I hadn't even told her I had ended up spending the evening of the festival with Hisao, before my parents finally decided to show up. She always has her ear to the ground when it comes to her friends, it seems. And...

Reluctantly, I sit up and glance around my bedroom. Normally there are things strewn around the floor in very strategic places. To anyone else it might look like a total mess, but it me, it's a carefully choreographed ensemble. A small army of stuffed animals, among other objects, are littered around the floor at various distances and elevations. It's not for emotional comfort. The debris strewn throughout my room is a safety net in case the urge to take a nap ever gets too strong, which it does. Whenever one of my friends comes over, I'm fine with letting them believe that I'm just a messy, girly girl who loves stuffed animals and is too lazy to ever put things away. It's a nicer story than the real one, anyway.

But this morning, my floor is bare, everything sorted and stacked neatly in nice little piles in various corners. The sight of so much free carpet is obtrusive, it's alien to me.

“I don't remember doing that.” I mumble, sitting upright and glancing around. Everything looks completely different from how it did when I finally got back to my dorm room last night. Everything, that is, except a large stuffed dinosaur that sits perched on the table next to my door, across from my bed.

Oh, right. That. Hisao had won it for me while playing some of the games at the festival. He said it matched my eyes. It was the right color, but it was also enormous and bloated, more like a big round pillow with the limbs and head of a T-Rex thrown on than a stuffed animal. I can't tell if it's an extremely thoughtful gift, or the complete opposite.

“So you did a little sleep cleaning?” Miki plops down on the bed next to me. “If that's the case, you should sleep over at my place more often.”

“That's not funny. It's weird.” I lack the strength to stay upright any longer and slowly topple sideways, my head landing in Miki's knees.

“Yeah, well, I think we both know that you're a little weird, Suzu.” She smiles down at me with that motherly look that she's always wearing whenever I'm finding out I have a brand new bruise, or I scraped hard against something on the way down, or I missed an important test. I gaze back at her blankly.

I guess she's right. I've tried not to think about it. After all, everyone here at Yamaku is “weird” in a way. But this is my third year, and I've had a lot of time to come to grips with my situation. To me, I'm not really all that weird at all, except that...

I glance over to the dinosaur-shaped blob on my table. It stares back with beady eyes, taunting me from the other side of the room. The several feet of bare, unpadded floor that separates us resembles a sneered challenge. Or a warning.

That bastard.

“Earth to Suzu, come in, space cadet.” Miki ruffles my hair with her hand to get my attention. It's another little motherly thing that she does, and it bothers me a little bit. But she does so much for me, always making sure I don't hurt myself too badly when I'm out, even making sure I get up at all in the mornings, that I can't get mad at her. Miki is one of the best friends I've ever had, and has been my closest friend since last year.

Anyway. Right. She's early today. Which means she's here to grill me about the festival. Still lacking anything resembling energy, I continue to rest my head in her lap as I give her the sordid details. Or really, the not very sordid at all but still totally what happened details. I tell her about me and Hisao's hunt for the best food to make up for his sub-par noodles earlier. The stall that always has the amazing fried rice dish keeps moving around every year, it's almost like a scavenger hunt. After that, we chased down the best of the festival games. I neglect to tell Miki that we were going to play the goldfish scooping game but changed our minds after I almost passed out face first into the tub of water. I haven't made any effort to keep my condition a secret from Hisao, it's pretty hard to do when I have no control over things sometimes. But we haven't known eachother long enough for me to be completely fine with falling asleep in front of him. Trust like that doesn't spring up in the course of a week, even if he does seem to be a pretty good guy. And besides, I don't know if he's as good at catching me as Miki, and I'd rather not find out the hard way. Luckily, we were able to hunt down some canned coffee and continue on our way, and he didn't make an issue out of it. I think he feels sorry for me, but by that lost look he gets in his eyes sometimes, I'm pretty sure I'm the one who should be feeling sorry for him. It's hard to say.

Anyway, we played a couple more of the festival games. I don't usually like the lottery game, it's a shot in the dark, but their prizes were so good this year. Hisao debated on which string to pull for a few minutes straight, and in the meantime I went ahead and played a couple times. I won some candy, but the string he ended up pulling lead to the dinosaur that now roars silently on the other side of the room, daring someone to come and hug it. When the string he finally chose turned out to be connected to that massive green lump, I jokingly asked if he was going to keep it. He said something about beating his dorm-mate with it, but offered it to me, since it matched my eyes. How could any girl refuse a massive, fuzzy t-rex?

I did make him carry it, though. We did some more walking around, but after a while even the coffee wasn't helping anymore and I was beginning to slump. Hisao was starting to look pretty worn out too. He seemed pretty embarrassed about it, but I wasn't going to pry. After all, if he was in perfect condition he wouldn't be here in the first place. And if that was the case, I wouldn't have had someone to spend the festival with, so I guess it's not all bad.

About that point, my parents finally showed up and me and Hisao parted ways, it would have been kind of awkward to introduce him, and besides, he said he had to head up to the roof to make sure his friend hadn't done anything too stupid. Though, I have a feeling that the only thing Miki really cares about is--

“Did you kiss?” She asks, looking down at me conspiratorially.

“What.” I saw this one coming, but feign ignorance anyway.

“You heard me.”

“Of course not. I've only known him for about a week. And my parents were right there.”

“But you wanted to, right?” She grins, and I know there's only one way out of this conversation. I stare at her blankly for a moment, and then close my eyes, roll my head towards her knees, and go limp. I should feel bad about doing this, but I really don't at the moment. Miki lets out an annoyed gasp as she realizes what I'm trying to do.

“Don't you dare, Suzu Suzuki!” She gives me a shake. Nope. I'm not sure if she's buying it, but I'm still so tired that I feel like I might actually go to sleep any second anyway. My hopes are shattered by the loud wail of the alarm clock on my nightstand going off, though, and I'm forced to break the illusion. I open my eyes to see Miki half-glaring at me.

“I can't believe you'd do that.” She pouts.

“Do what?”


Next I Previous I First

Gazing At The Glare

I manage to get ready for the day without any further prodding from Miki, and together we set off to class. For once I feel right at home, everyone in the room looks exhausted and even Mutou is late. I want to use the opportunity to talk to Hisao, but he's been ambushed by Shizune and Misha. I watch as the pair's hands fly back and forth, while Hisao looks like a cornered animal. He says something, and Shizune cocks her head to one side inquisitively at Misha's translation, who bites her lip and looks around the classroom. Then she points at me, her face suddenly lighting up.

Oh god.

I watch as all three of them turn to glance over at me. Hisao smiles weakly, like he just threw me under a bus. Misha beams from ear to ear, and Shizune peers at me as if she'd never seen me before in her life. It's not like we've ever spoken, but--wait, of course we've never spoken. But by this point in the school year I certainly know who she is. I guess I can't expect for her to be able to say the same about me, even being deaf she manages to keep a higher profile. I smile awkwardly back at them through gritted teeth, but the sudden urge to yawn overpowers me, and I'm almost glad for the distraction. When it passes, Shizune's eyes have narrowed slightly.

Oh, oh god. Luckily, the teacher arrives just in time, and I gladly turn around to face the front of the class. Mutou mumbles some apologies and something about hoping we all had a good time at the festival, and then it's on to the day's lecture. It is, in his typical style, quite a boring one, and before long at all I feel my eyelids begin to droop. I try to shake it off, I've been missing too much class time lately and I'm tired of spending my free hours to catch up.

I prop my head up with one hand, squinting to make out the words the teacher scrawls over the blackboard. It's all getting a bit fuzzy. I try to blink a couple times, but everything seems to get a little darker each time.

“Can you answer this next question, Suzuki?” Mutou's voice calls out. My head snaps up. He sometimes makes the effort to keep me in the fight if he sees me fading, but right now he's still turned to write on the blackboard. The classroom is incredibly dark somehow. And it feels colder, too.

I feel my back begin to tense up painfully, a souvenir from a bad fall a couple years ago.

“God damn it.”

“What did you say?” The teacher asks. He slowly turns toward me. The edges of my vision are fading to black.

“I didn't quite catch that, Suki.” The skeletal face beams at me, empty black eyes somehow full of malice. He reaches to the blackboard and drags a bony finger down the surface slowly. The shrill noise pierces my ears, but I feel anger begin to boil in my chest. I shove off from my desk.

“I'm tired of this.”

Death looks somehow comedic wearing Mutou's outfit, but the illusion is dispelled when he violently smashes away the items on the teacher's desk with a white arm.

“You think you get to make the rules, Suzu? You think the game is over?”

“It's my head. And I'm done playing your games.” I cross my arms.

“Oh?” He walks around the desk to stand directly in front of me. His breath would probably be on me if he had any. Death reaches up and takes my face in a bony hand, and fear floods through my veins.

This is new.

Now I remember why I don't like new.

“Is that what you think, Suki?” He whispers softly, empty eye sockets inches away from mine.

I try to respond, but my mouth has gone dry. All I can manage is a sort of half-cry, half-gasping sound that I regret the moment it leaves my throat. I sound powerless. I feel powerless. I hate it.

“Why would we stop playing when the stakes have just gone up?” He forcibly turns me to look towards the back of the class. Everything is shrouded in black now. Everything except Hisao, frozen in time, still sitting there with that uncomfortable smile on his face.

Again, I try to respond but only make a pitiful choking noise. This is stupid. He's just some boy in my class I went to the festival with, it's not like--

“It's not like what, Suki?” Death jerks me back to face him, his skull less than an inch away from me now. My eyes may or may not be watering at this point.

“It's not like he reminds you of anyone, right? ” His hand tightens around my chin. Anyone else would probably wake up from experiencing this much terror in a dream but I guess I'm just special like that.

I feel the hot sting of tears on my face. Wake up, I plead to myself. C'mon, any second now. Wake up.

I wish I could wake up.

Death stares straight at me, those dark sockets boring holes into me, apparently privy to my every thought. Seeming to grow tired of my tears, he releases his grip, and I fall back into my chair, feeling like I'm made of stone.

“You think about what I've said, Suki. We'll see eachother again very soon.”

Finally. I collapse forward onto my desk, barely able to fling my arms up in time to catch my head.

The lunch bell tears the darkened classroom away from me, skeletal teacher and all, and I keep my head buried behind my arms even as I hear my classmates begin to rise and make their way out. I figure I'll wait for the tears that are staining my sleeves to dry before I try to go anywhere. However, only a few moments pass before someone gently taps my wrist.

“Suzu? Hey, wake up.” I open my eyes and glance up, this time to see Hisao next to Miki, standing in front of my desk. Their expressions change to concern when they notice the waterworks. Behind them I see Misha and Shizune walk to the classroom door, the latter glancing at me curiously as they pass.

“I'm fine. I'm awake.” I wipe my eyes.

“Bad dream?” Hisao asks softly. Maybe I'm the one that deserves to be pitied after all.

“It's nothing, really. Can we please just... go to lunch? I'm starving.” I stand up and shake myself off. Inside I'm glad that I have Miki and now Hisao here with me, but I still can't tell them about things like this.

It's still better than being all alone, I decide. We walk together to the cafeteria, and they fill me in on the lecture that I slept through, Miki taking the opportunity to colorfully paraphrase the teacher's words with slang. I force them to stop at every vending machine on the way that sells canned coffee.

See eachother again soon? Not if I have anything to say about it.



Artwork by Doomish: This is not funny

Next I Previous I First

Nice, I was hoping for a continuation of this one. I like your plan of writing a "route" from the perspective of the girl, variation is always nice. Keep up the good work

My god. Thank you so much for deciding to continue this. I loved these past two chapters, mostly because of the personality you have given Suzu.
Keep at it, I love it.

This is really superb. Your Miki is so BRO-MODE and I love her. Her chemistry with Suzu is excellent. I was grinning like an idiot while I was reading the scene in her bedroom.

I love all the substance you're giving Suzu. The way you describe her bedroom, with pillows everywhere, the way she feigns a sleeping spell to try and get Miki to leave her alone, everything. Her personality is great. Distracted, disinterested, shruggy. And the recurring nightmares bit is pretty neat, it makes the story sort of double layered.

My one gripe is that there's hardly any Hisao so it's hard to really see this as a love story or a route or anything. Hisao just seems like a part of her daily life, more of a backdrop to what's really going on than anything else.

Anyways man I really can't wait to see where you're taking this because your Suzu is excellent and this is great reading.

One thing - do you think Japanese people say "Oh My God?" Serious question because I don't know either.

So you decided to continue! Good for us The grim reaper sure is a dick.

Even though you said you can't promise a compete route I hope you don't think that too much is expected of you. You write and we read, your story is interesting.

I'm very glad you decided to continue this

Loving it so far

One thing - do you think Japanese people say "Oh My God?" Serious question because I don't know either.

They say it all the time in KS...
I've seen it at least a dozen times so far while translating Emi's path.

All I can really say is that it means an incredible amount to me to receive so many kind words. Thank you, everyone who has shown and continues to show interest.

The O.H.L. wrote:My god. Thank you so much for deciding to continue this. I loved these past two chapters, mostly because of the personality you have given Suzu.
Keep at it, I love it.

Rikabro wrote:This is really superb. Your Miki is so BRO-MODE and I love her. Her chemistry with Suzu is excellent. I was grinning like an idiot while I was reading the scene in her bedroom.

I love all the substance you're giving Suzu. The way you describe her bedroom, with pillows everywhere, the way she feigns a sleeping spell to try and get Miki to leave her alone, everything. Her personality is great. Distracted, disinterested, shruggy. And the recurring nightmares bit is pretty neat, it makes the story sort of double layered.

My one gripe is that there's hardly any Hisao so it's hard to really see this as a love story or a route or anything. Hisao just seems like a part of her daily life, more of a backdrop to what's really going on than anything else.

Anyways man I really can't wait to see where you're taking this because your Suzu is excellent and this is great reading.

One thing - do you think Japanese people say "Oh My God?" Serious question because I don't know either.

Many thanks to both of you. To be honest, my biggest fear was that Suzu would come across as not having much of a personality at all. That's the hard part about working with an unestablished character, it's a challenge and a blessing at the same time. I'm glad that a recognizable personality is beginning to take form.
Rikabro, you raise a good point in that there hasn't been much interaction with Hisao yet, but in my defense, it's only the day after the festival. I kind of see their relationship starting off a bit slowly, sort of like in Emi's route. Regardless, I do need to keep my goals aimed at developing the romance between the two, so thanks for reminding me, I really mean it. And as far as using "oh my god" goes, Mirage makes a good point. Even if they don't use exactly the same phrase in Japan, I'm sure they have one that means about the same thing, since it's not an uncommon sight in translated anime and manga.

Mirage_GSM wrote:

One thing - do you think Japanese people say "Oh My God?" Serious question because I don't know either.

They say it all the time in KS...
I've seen it at least a dozen times so far while translating Emi's path.

Yeah, I thought it sounded familiar. My "guy who hasn't played KS since like February" is showing.

Scissorlips wrote:Many thanks to both of you. To be honest, my biggest fear was that Suzu would come across as not having much of a personality at all. That's the hard part about working with an unestablished character, it's a challenge and a blessing at the same time. I'm glad that a recognizable personality is beginning to take form.

I think the fact that it's such a challenge is causing you to rise to the challenge, as it were, because it's probably the best thing about your story so far. Funny how that works.

Scissorlips wrote:developing the romance

Less of it happening offstage is what I mean. A few good bonding scenes will be enough to remedy that. But yes, I see what you mean about a slow build.

Great story and looking forward to future installments.

I can only finish these at some ungodly hour in the morning. It must be a sign.


Maybe Tomorrow


I pop the tab on my third can of coffee and take a swig. Miki watches me curiously, but the rest of the table is preoccupied. The usual lunch group is assembled, minus Lezard, who's slunk off somewhere. Taro shovels down rice as fast as humanly possible to my right, while sitting across from him is Akio, slowly nibbling at his bread, face buried in a book. On the other side of the table from me is Hisao, who pokes at his food as if he were dissecting something for science class. He looks so distant that I almost regret bringing him to lunch with us. Maybe he would rather be with the student council after all? My eyes wander around the spacious cafeteria looking for those unmistakable pink swirls, but come up empty.

They're probably off doing some super secret student council stuff. Like overseeing the construction of a dungeon in the school's basement where they'll throw all the kids they catch skipping class. It would have torture racks, and maybe a bottomless pit, and...

“Do we even have a basement?” I think out loud, followed by another gulp of my coffee. Miki munches on some sort of pretzel, her expression thoughtful. She shrugs.

“I chonno. Whychdo youf ask?” She doesn't even bother to swallow before replying. I regret speaking up immediately.

“Are you trying to find the deepest, darkest place you can slink off to and snooze?” Akio says without even looking up from his book.

“No, I was...” I try to remember why I asked at all, but it's fuzzy. Suddenly, I think I need a power nap. Yeah, that's what...

I shake my head back and forth. Coffee. That's what I need. And I've got lots of that. I take another long sip, and then my eyes are drawn to Hisao, still absentmindedly stabbing at his lunch. Student council. Now I remember.

I give him a gentle kick under the table, and Hisao starts as if he'd just awaken from a nap of his own. I wonder if I ever look like that.

“Keep that up and you're not going to get any dessert, young man. I know you're just spreading it around.” I wink at him. He stares back for a few seconds, before finally breaking into a weak smile.

“Sorry, I'm not very hungry today.” Crap. What am I supposed to say to that?

I almost ask him if he'd rather be somewhere else, but he probably couldn't answer that without either lying or looking ungrateful for the company. So instead we pass the rest of the break making small talk about class, teachers, things like that.

Miki chips in with some new bits of gossip that I miss out on by nodding off, but thankfully nothing comes of it. She gently prods me awake as lunch is wrapping up.

“Hey Suzu, wasn't there something you wanted to do on the way back to class?”

“Was there.” I blink heavily. Some return trips to reality are smoother than others.

Miki jerks her head just slightly in the direction of the boy across from me, who's currently standing up and waiting for the rest of the group to get ready to leave, looking awkward.

“Oh. Right.” I guess I could do that. Talk with him, I mean, not... what? I desperately shake the various cans of coffee strewn before me, but every one is empty. I guess we're doing this au naturale. Wait, no.

Miki is giving me the look as Taro packs up his lunchbox and Akio finally wedges a bookmark into the object of his attention with a sigh. This is it, isn't it? It's my shot, my chance. I look at Hisao, who turns to stare back at me. The moment drags on and on.

This is painfully awkward. I flick my gaze to something off in the corner of my vision, then back to Hisao. He's still looking me. I realize I have no idea what game we're playing. But whatever it is, it's most certainly my turn right now.

Now I'm definitely feeling my way through the dark. Okay okay, enough of this.

“C'mon Hisao, let's get a head start.” I walk around the table to stand next to him, and then nod in the direction of the cafeteria's exit.

“All right, lead the way.” He replies, sounding a little relieved.


As we melt into the crowds that surge through the hallways, I'd be lying if I said my pulse didn't pick up. Being around a lot of people like this can be dangerous, if I fell asleep now I could be trampled. I can't help but wonder if another reason my blood is pumping faster might be the boy walking next to me, though.

“Sorry if our group is kind of boring.” I break the silence that hangs between us despite the roar of conversation all around. The movement of the crowd forces us almost shoulder to shoulder.

“It's okay. I just don't really know anyone there, so.” Hisao gives me a strained smile. I notice that he's trying pretty hard to avoid bumping into anyone as we make our way through the clogged hallways. Maybe he just doesn't want to risk crashing into me, I guess I should be flattered. Still, I hate seeing him look the way he did in the lunch room, so I press on.

“Don't worry about it, they're all okay guys. You'll get used to them, if you want to.”

“If I want to?'

“Well yeah, we're not going to force you to hang out with us against your will.”

Hisao nods sagely. He, uh, looks like he has some experience with that.

“It's not like that, it's nice having someone to eat lunch with.” As we walk, he glances out a window for a moment, before returning his full attention to the task of navigating the crowd.

“To be honest, it's the food.”

I try not to, but end up laughing anyway. “Is it really that bad?”

Hisao shakes his head, we reach the first flight of stairs up to the main floor and begin to climb. I find myself taking them two at a time, wanting to get away from a potentially deadly fall as quickly as possible. Five steps left. Four left. Three. C'mon, c'mon, almost there. If I fall asleep now, I could die. C'mon. My foot slams on the final step like a marathon runner crossing the finish line, except instead of a trophy, I get to go back to class. Go me.

Hisao chugs up the last few steps behind me, and I realize I had gotten distracted. He looks like he's already having some trouble, and there's still three more floors to go. Being in class 3-3 is suffering.

“You really don't like stairs, do you?” He asks, trying hard not to pant. I wish he didn't try to hide it. I wish he didn't have to be worn out from something like that at all. Not like, not like I wish he was perfectly healthy. Well, I guess I do. Which reminds me.

“And you really don't like hospital food.” I don't bother trying to make it come off as a joke.

He stops in his tracks and stares at me in complete surprise. People pass us on either side, give us curious glances, but continue on their way. Hisao is still frozen in place at the head of the staircase, looking at me like he doesn't know if he should be embarrassed or angry or some other emotion that plays briefly across his face. I stand there, watching and waiting. I'm not trying to put him on the spot. He's obviously new at this whole being different thing, he might not have even had any say in coming to Yamaku at all. He might feel like no one else knows what he's going through right now.

But he would be surprised.

I drink in the silence that hangs between us in this moment, like a bubble of air in the middle of a sea of words and motion and life all around. Sunlight pours in from the window, bathing the two of us in warm light that makes the sight of Hisao seem to blur around the edges. Watching him, I feel a twinge of something inside.

Maybe he really does seem familiar.

Hisao seems to snap out of some long thought process and begins to say something, but the words miss my ears as everything goes black. Moments, or maybe hours, or maybe days later I open my eyes to find my head buried in someone's chest, a pair of arms gripping my shoulders tightly. I look up to find Hisao staring back at me, his eyes wide. It takes a few seconds before I realize that he's still standing on the top stair, trying to avoid toppling backwards against my weight. For once my head clears in an instant. This could be bad.

I try to move back but trip against Hisao's legs, causing our tangled bodies to pitch towards the staircase. This is going to be bad. He lets out a noise halfway between a gasp and a grunt as he tries desperately to counterbalance our combined weight, but it's no use. Almost in slow motion, Hisao topples backwards, taking me with him. My mind fills with thoughts of impending doom.

As it turns out there, doom will have to wait. As we fall, I catch a glimpse of familiar figures coming up the staircase below us. It must actually be our lucky day, because Taro is leading the way. He watches us tumble towards him with no expression whatsoever.

There's a dull thump. We don't so much as collide as get stopped in our tracks, Taro's dense, solid frame doesn't budge an inch. My first thought is that I really should appreciate having him around more.

I'm able to lean back and detach myself from the jumble, pulling on Hisao to help him do the same.

“Are you guys okay?” Taro asks, completely unfazed. Is he used to people crashing into him like that?

“I think so. Thank you Taro, you saved the day.” I flash him a genuine smile to let him know that I really mean it. Next to me, Hisao is taking deep breaths and trying to steady himself. I guess I wasn't the only one who was fearing for the worst.

“What are you guys doin' on the stairs, huh?” Miki squirms past Taro and gives me her “you're telling me all about it later” look. I glance at Hisao again, who seems to be doing better now.

“Just taking a nap.” I say it as apologetically as possible. I know I don't have any control over it. But the fact is that I almost got one or both of us hurt. If my friends hadn't been here to bail us out, it would have been my fault if Hisao had gotten seriously injured or worse. And me too, I guess. But I'm used to tumbles and scrapes. Hisao is still new at this.

Besides, this whole thing happened because I wanted to cheer him up after he looked so down during lunch. And look how it ended up.

“Hey, c'mon Suzu, wake up.” Miki gives my shoulders a shake with her good hand, she must have thought I was starting to nod off again. It doesn't strike me as that bad an idea actually, but class will be resuming any minute and I can't risk making everyone late. I fight off the sudden wave of fatigue that threatens to wash me away. We make our way back to the classroom as a group, conquering the remaining flights of stairs without incident. My desk is the most comfortable thing I've ever felt, it might as well be made of silk as I settle in for some well deserved rest.

I raise my head as Hisao moves to walk past me to his desk near the window.

“Hey.” I'm fading fast, slowly crumbling forward onto my desk as I speak. “I just wanted to say I'm sorry about earlier.”

Hisao smiles, though. I'm told I look pretty cute when exhausted, I guess I can't say I mind. Maybe it works in my favor sometimes.

“Forget about it, it worked out okay. And besides,” he says, his expression suddenly growing pensive. “And besides, you're right. I do hate hospital food.”

He's still smiling. That distant look is still in his eyes, but I feel as if he's not quite as far away now.

My eyelids close, and I spend the rest of the class dead to the world.


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A vague-ish chapter that served as a sort-of bonding moment between the two. Nice.

Great story, I can't wait to read more.

Thanks for responding, guys. I know sometimes there's not really much you can say while waiting for the the next thing to happen, but even taking the time to say anything at all lets me know there's still interest, and I appreciate it.


Someday Is Everyday


By the time I'm finally able to make it back to my room, I've never been more ready for the end of another exhausting day. Stepping through my door, though, I'm greeted by the sight of a meticulously clean floor. Right. There wasn't time to fix things before class today. Even though it's the place I've called home for three years, I feel like I'm walking into a minefield. Suddenly the edges of my bed, the sides of my nightstand, the tiny TV sitting on a pillow, all of these stand out in my slightly blurry vision as threats. It makes me wonder if there are any other students who have to do battle with things like gravity. I'm sure that there are a few who have it worse than me, but I'm far too tired to dredge through the list right now.
Oh well. I let my bag fall to the ground next to the door with a thump. Got to start somewhere, right? Then, moving as quickly as my worn out legs will allow, I go to each of the neatly stacked and organized piles comprised of stuffed animals, small pillows and other like objects, and scatter their contents across the floor. I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel a little good, there's a sort of childlike charm in making a mess. But at least I have a good reason for it. It only takes me a few minutes to coat the carpet in the usual arrangement of soft debris, although something tells me that I'll never get the proper sprawl of stuff back that only time and good old negligence can create.

With that out of the way, I'm finally able to start getting ready for bed, feeling like a zombie the whole time. The regular motions of brushing my teeth and changing into shorts and a t-shirt pass in a blur, until, mercifully, the next thing I feel is my head against the pillow.

Ahhh. I rub my face against the soft lump in front of me and spend a few moments worming my way into the most comfortable position. Finally, today is over. Tomorrow is another day but for now, this is the part where I sleep.


...This is the part where I sleep.

This is. The part. Where I sleep.

Someone tell me this is just a bad joke. I toss and turn, flip my pillow around, go from laying on my back to my stomach and vice versa. Nothing helps. I begin to wonder if this is the start of another week long bout of insomnia, something that happens now and then without fail. I really hope not, there's nothing like constantly feeling tired during the day and being totally unable to sleep at night to completely and utterly destroy yours social and school life. No no, this can't happen right now, I can't afford to fall behind in my classes again, and if I turn into a complete zombie I'll be a burden on everyone. I've had enough of that for a while, what with the drama on the stairs. My mind briefly flashes back to the conversation I shared with Hisao, one that we hadn't picked up after class got out.

He'd almost admitted that he'd been in the hospital, and for a long enough time to start hating the food there. Although, I guess anyone could grow to dislike it pretty fast if it was bad to begin with. The fact itself doesn't really surprise me, I'm sure just about everyone here has spent their share of time at hospitals. In fact, when I first came to Yamaku I remember feeling like the school almost resembled one big medical center but with nice brick buildings and fancy gates. But times have changes since then. Things have happened. Yamaku is my home away from home, and at its heart, it's just another school, filled with kids who are just like the ones you'd find anywhere else. I hope Hisao will come to realize that himself, with time.

I open my eyes and peer at the massive fuzzy dinosaur that still stares at me from across the room. In my haste to reclaim territory, I had apparently forgotten to mess up the floor between my bed and the table. My gaze switches back and forth between the huge stuffed animal and the bare carpet, and I wonder. It does look comfy. And it might be easier to sleep with something like that wrapped in my arms...

But it's late, and I'm so tired, and that floor is... instead, I flip on the light, grab a book from my nightstand, and begin halfheartedly grinding through the pages until somewhere along the line I stop existing, and instead dream of skeletons riding dinosaurs, Taro rolling down a staircase while inside a hamster ball, and other things I can't remember or might not want to.


I open my eyes the next morning after only waking up once or twice the night before, and I know that today is going to be a good day. Then I notice the book, still lying next to my head, which might or might not bear evidence of drool. Cautiously and quietly, even though I'm alone, I place it on the sunlight of my windowsill, today is going to be a good day.

This is the second time in two days I've woken up before my alarm has gone off, but miraculously I'm not even tired. It can be... difficult to recharge my batteries with a head like mine, but today seems like my lucky day. I switch my alarm clock off to avoid it ringing when I'm not there, and swing my legs off the bed. I reach down and adjust my knee brace to make sure it's still tight and in the correct position, and as I do, a flash of pain jolts through my kneecap. One sharp intake of breath through grit teeth and it's gone, though. It's definitely taking its time to heal, but I guess I'm lucky that one knee brace and a couple scars are my only reminder of that particular adventure. And what's a few more scars? Nothing at all. The light feeling that sits firmly behind my eyes refuses to go away, I won't let something as stupid as a healing kneecap ruin my morning.

It's so rare to feel alive in the mornings these days.

I gather up my uniform and everything else I'll need to start the day in my arms before heading to the door. Opening it though, I find myself face to face with Miki, good hand raised as if she was about to knock.

“Oh. Mornin', Suzu.” She grunts. She looks like hell, slouching slightly as she stands there, dark circles under her eyes.

“Hey. Is it opposite day?” Usually our mornings are the other way around, but for once, I'm the one feeling chipper while she looks like she didn't sleep a wink. Miki forces a smile.

“Yeah yeah, don't rub it in. I couldn't sleep last night.”

I can't help but let my eyes wander down to the stump that was Miki's left hand. If she was up all night last night, the normal thing to assume is that she was out with some of our friends, or with her buddies from the track club, maybe even a clandestine moonlight encounter, who knows. But secretly, I've always hoped that she has a costume stashed away somewhere in her room, with tight spandex and an assortment of hooks, swords, machine guns and various other things that she attaches to her wrist. And then she goes and spends the entire night fighting crime. Maybe it's all the times that she's kept an eye on me during one of my episodes, but it doesn't seem like too much of a stretch to picture Miki as a superhero.

My thoughts return to the spread of objects haphazardly spilled across my bedroom floor behind me. Just like with my carpet, the tale of the Masked Miki is probably a happier one than the real truth. It makes me a little sad, as if we're both lying to the world and putting on a happy face. But then again, at least in Miki's defense, her secret identity is probably all in my head. What would her vigilante name be? Wait, wait, no contest, Stumpfist. Yes. That's--

“Hello Sergeant Suzu, are you receiving?” Miki's interruption brings me out of my stupor. She looks a little bit annoyed. Shouldn't have called her Stumpfist.

“Sorry, what?” Maybe I'm not as awake as I thought. It can be hard to tell the difference sometimes.

“You haven't been sleepwalking again, have you?” Miki asks, only half joking. When I shake my head, she flashes her trademark grin, but it only makes her look more exhausted.

“Okay, well now that I know you're awake, I'm gonna go not be awake for a while longer. See you in class?”

“Sounds good. See you Stu--Miki.” She eyes me with a look halfway between curiosity and concern for a moment, but then turns and stumbles back towards her room, waving goodbye with her good hand.

I really should be more careful with the things I almost blurt out. Miki has always been self-conscious of her injury, she stubbornly refuses to adapt to having one hand and usually just ignores her useless wrist out of what seems like spite. When I say Stumpfist, I picture a master of one-handed martial arts, a masked hero who brings hope to the downtrodden people of Yamaku City. But if she heard it, she might think I was making fun of her, even though I would never do that. So I have to be careful. I like my friends a lot, I really do. And I need them. So I need them to like me too.

Still standing in my doorway, I feel a sudden pang of fatigue, and I remember that I still have my uniform and all my other morning utilities piled in my arms. Hoping that a quick shower will drive off these feelings, I make my way to the bathroom in my wing of the girl's dormitory.



By the time I'm ready to leave the dorms, the sun's shining still hasn't been able to lift the chill that hangs in the morning air. Dew glistens on the grass as I make my way across the expansive grounds towards the main building. It's still early, I recognize most of the other students I see out and about as being some of the most studious and serious kids around. They stare as if they've never seen me before, but I don't let it bother me. A lot of the time, those who don't know anything about narcolepsy dismiss people who have it as being lazy or slackers. Things are better here at Yamaku, where they usually give you the benefit of the doubt, but people will still be people. If you see someone sleeping in class, you're going to assume. Luckily by now pretty much everyone in my class knows that it's not that simple. I guess. I mean, I don't know if I'd say “luckily”, but it's the way things are.

No, things could always be worse. I stop to take in the scent of freshly mowed grass that drifts by on a cold morning breeze. The wind blows my hair around, but I've never really put too much effort into it anyway.

Making my way inside the main building, I gather my strength and bound up the staircases that stand between me and class 3-3. I have no real reason to be here this early, but I guess I don't really have a reason not to be here, either. And besides, I don't want to risk napping somewhere, I might sleep for too long or worse, this good feeling I have could be gone when I wake up. So instead I embrace this strange new world of a quiet, cold early morning school, and step into my classroom.
It's completely empty. I set my bag on my desk, and then glance around. With just me here, it's like I'm in charge. Huh.

I begin to wonder what I should do with all this power. Rummaging through other people's desks is out of the question, the teacher's desk not quite as much but still not a good idea. I sink into my chair, thinking that maybe this whole thing isn't as exciting as it looked. I contemplate writing something on the blackboard, but can't think of anything funny.

Just as I begin to consider taking a nap after all, the door opens and the teacher shambles in., Mutou looks like death warmed over as he strides to his desk and sets down his briefcase with a long sigh. I blink hard a few times to make sure I'm still awake and my mind isn't playing tricks on me again. It's only then that Mutou looks up and notices me sitting there, his face slowly changing into a mask of surprise.

“Good morning, teacher.” I find myself reflexively cupping my chin in my hand, as if my body is preparing for another long lecture. But Mutou scratches his scraggly cheek, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

“Good morning, Miss... uh...”

Oh right. I'd forgotten how bad he is with names. But, uh, I've been in his class all year.

I stare back at him, not sure if the polite thing to do is let him try to remember who I am on his own or speak up and correct him.

“Um... Miss...”

Does he really not remember my name? I wonder, If I dyed my hair pink and practiced a distinctive, booming laugh, would he remember me then? Even the thought of trying to imitate my classmate's “wahaha” forces me to yawn, and Mutou latches onto the conversation cue like a lifebuoy.

“What brings you to class so early this morning?” He asks.

“I don't know, I just woke up and it was a nice day outside so I figured I'd get a jump start.” I turn my head to look outside the window at the blue sky beyond.

I'm about to ask him the same question, but I don't get the chance. I blink and the classroom is gone, along with Mutou, the sunlight, and my desk. In its place is the all too familiar wooden table in front of me, with the sickeningly familiar plastic board game set out on top of it.



I was only half right about Mutou leaving, it seems. Seated across from me is a skeleton clad in my teacher's familiar brown coat and black shirt, complete with matching tie. Even the unkempt black hair is still there, contrasting weirdly with a bleached white scalp of bone.

The creature in front of me gives a friendly wave, which does very little to dissuade the cold feeling sinking into my gut.

“What brings you to class so early this morning?” He echoes my teacher in word alone, the actual sound is hard to describe, somewhere between pouring gravel and wind hissing through a tunnel.

I only manage a sigh in response, and slowly glance around at the same familiar blackness that surrounds me on all sides. The table, the game, everything except the company is all the same.

“You look disappointed, Suki.” I look up into those dark sockets that stare straight back at me.

“At least I remembered your name.” He chortles.

“That's not my name.”

Death spreads his bony hands in a half shrugging motion.

“Semantics. Why are you so antsy? It seems like it's been forever since we enjoyed a nice little game.”

That's because last time you were almost choking me, I want to say. But I almost don't dare to even think it, that alone might be enough to set him off again. So instead, I'm left with no choice but to study the board in front of me. The pieces are laid out in a scattered formation and mostly undamaged, either it's early in the game or I'm winning, and I somehow doubt that last one.

“You seem a little down, Suki. Were you expecting someone else? Maybe you wanted to be off in dreamland with Mister Nakai?” His tone grates, but right now I'm just glad that it lacks any real malice.

“I don't want to be anywhere but in class. D3.”

“Miss. But still, you can't really complain, now can you?”

I look up from the game, trying to fight off a yawn. I'm yawning in my own dream? Damn it.

“It's your turn.” I say.

“Oh, is it? B8.” Death scratches at his chin just like Mutou had minutes... was it minutes earlier? It could be seconds. It could be hours. I could have gotten to class early and slept through the whole thing. That would be my luck. But no, someone would wake me up, they wouldn't let that happen.

“Suzu.” Death's tone is threatening, and I realize I had been getting distracted. Anything was a welcome distraction from this, but after last time...

“B8 is a miss. A3?”

“Hit.” then “I'm letting you win, you know.”

I glance up at the figure across the table from me in surprise, who stares back, the perpetual grin on his face revealing nothing.

“You're what?”

Death slowly holds a finger up to his white lips, or lack thereof.

“Suzuki? It's time to wake up. C'mon, now.”

I hear the soft roar of the voices in the classroom before I feel the gentle prodding of my arm. I open my eyes to see Mutou, complete with skin and all, giving me a rare smile. Next to him is Hisao, who mirrors the teacher's expression.

“You cheated.” I mumble as I sit up and stretch my arms and shoulders.

“I didn't know we were playing a game.” Hisao replies, and Mutou leaves to begin sorting through stacks of papers on his desk. It appears that class will be beginning soon.

“You told him my name, didn't you?” I blink away sleep.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Hisao feigns ignorance. “But I'm impressed that you made it up the stairs all by yourself.”

“It will take more than stairs to stop me." I'm mumbling again, but I feel my strength begin to return. I glance over to my right where Miki sits behind her desk, looking carefree as ever. She seems to be fully awake by now, and gives me an encouraging wink before returning to a conversation with a couple other students.

I turn back to Hisao, who opens his mouth to speak, but the bell chimes before he can say anything.

“Sit down please, Nakai.” Mutou calls. Hisao looks at the teacher for a moment, and then back to me.

“I knew it. He remembers your name but not mine.” I pretend to glare at the boy in front of me, but I don't mean it. Hisao lets out an embarrassed laugh.

“There's something I need to ask you during lunch break, if that's okay.”

I can't help but perk up a little.

“Sure, I'm not going anywhere.” I hope.

Hisao nods and then takes his seat in the row behind me, and I'm left swimming in thoughts of mysterious questions and rigged games, as Mutou launches into today's lesson.


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