Katawa Shoujo Forums

nemz wrote:For contrast, Rin I imagine thinks primarily in images and her speech is less composed then it is a running commentary on the theatre of her minds eye. The things she has the most trouble talking about are things that don't lend themselves well to images without having a specific experience to tie them to, which of course causes trouble when others don't share that experience. A first-person scene of Rin in higher math classes would probably give me a migraine.

Rin's the character I identify with most in the entire game. She's way more visual than I am, but there are so many little details that just fit me at that age... I actually had more problems understanding Hisao than Rin, in that route. It's striking, for example, when her words tilt over and instead of recounting experience become the source of imagination (as in the worry-tree scene, where she's upset, but it doesn't show until she worries about looking upset).

Bagheera wrote:Don't quite know what to make of the new girl, but she can bring the nasty...

Heh. In story, nobody knows what to make of her. And that includes herself. Thanks for reading.

For story-post navigation please refer to the index post.

I.3. The importance of smiling

For Lilly, it is a nice day to walk to the convenience store. The sun is warm on her skin; the air smells nice. The nice weather draws out walkers, and there's a murmur in the air that anchors her in the social flow; they are all walkers, enjoying a nice day out. It is the people, though, that make sunny days uncomfortable for Hanako. On sunny days, her pace is uneven. It's subtle; she slows down and speeds up in tiny increments, constantly assessing the distance to others. They are synchronised now, Lilly and Hanako, but in the beginning it was difficult. Suddenly, Hanako's voice would come from a bit further behind, and Lilly would have to slow down to let her catch up. But unlike Hanako's subtle changes, Lilly's had a stop-and-go feel to them. It was not exactly undignified, but it did constitute a source of annoyance, if only a minor one. Not that she ever showed it, and now it is a thing of the past.

Today, though, Hanako's pace is even. Once already, she has stopped abruptly, after coming too close to a trio of joking, laughing boys. She then stood in place for a second, or two, presumably to catch her bearings, said her “s-sorry”, and they walked on. She is silent, too, doesn't talk to Lilly. This in itself is nothing to worry about. When there is nothing to say they don't speak. Hanako's presence, then, announces itself through the little noises her body makes: breath, the clatter of a tea cup, shifting in her seat. Now the most salient sound that comes from her is that of her footsteps, and – considering the context – they feel wrong.

“Hanako,” Lilly says, “is something worrying you?”

“Y-yes.” She says, and for a second or two that's all she says. Then: “About H-hisao. There are rumours.”

So she has heard the rumours, too. Not surprising, considering they are in the same class. Lilly is intrigued. Hisao's calm and gentle manners seem to put Hanako at ease. So naturally, when there are rumours about him that suggest he might not be who he seems, she would start worrying. Or maybe it's something else: maybe she's less worried about Hisao having nasty side. Maybe she is worried what the rumours will do to him. If she wants Hanako to continue talking, she must encourage her to do so: “Yes?”

“D-do you think Hisao w-would hurt others? For f-fun?”

Lilly gives her a chuckle. The very thought is absurd. “Of course, not, Hanako. It must have been that other girl.”

“I think so, too.” No stutter. And there is something else in her voice, Lilly can't place. What has brought this on all of a sudden? That other girl? Could it be...? Is Hanako... jealous? Lilly is curious, but it wouldn't be wise to push the subject. She sticks to the subject that they share: “Are you worried about Hisao, Hanako?”

“Y-yes. He is new at Y-yamaku. If he's with Miyako...”

That Hanako uses the girl's name at all is a surprise. That she uses her first name is an even greater surprise. But the greatest surprise of all is this: there is not even the hint of a stutter as she says her name. Instead, there is something sharp and pointy in her voice. Something that – were it allowed to burst forth – could stab it's target through the heart. A dagger-sharp icicle. There is only one way to interpret this: Kitagawa Miyako pushed Hanako beyond breaking point at some point in the past, and Hanako now hates her. Lilly has never experienced anything like this with Hanako. Even now it's only a hint, not conclusive. But it frightens her. She doesn't know how to react, and thus she says nothing. Hanako herself is silent for a while. Then: “H-hisao doesn't smile much,” Hanako says. “P-people want you to smile, and if you don't they become suspicious.”

This is interesting. Smiles do not mean much to Lilly. Unless she has her hands in someone's face she cannot tell a smile is there at all, and how likely are people to smile when their faces are fingered? She can infer the presence of a smile from the tone of a voice, from emotive noises. But with Hisao, what attracted her was a certain sincerity in his manner. He was calm and polite, eager to please and unsure how, afraid to offend. He was new to Yamaku. But behind that nervousness lay a calm kindness that was reassuring. Smiles had little to do with it.

On the other hand, Lilly herself never forgets to put on a smile when one is warranted. Smiles put people at ease. Lilly is sure she was smiling every now and then during her first encounter with Hisao, and he opened up soon enaough. He may have returned her smiles, or not; it has never occurred to her to wonder.

Maybe it's time for a smile now? They are walking side by side, and it is very likely that Hanako is staring at the road in front of her. Still, Lilly smiles. “Well, we won't stop talking to Hisao. And when people see we do people will see that their suspicions are unfounded. Other than that, we will just have to believe in Hisao.”

“Y-yes.” It doesn't sound very convincing.

“Hanako?”

“I-it's just... if I get nervous and run away and people see it, it will have the opposite effect.”

Oh, Hanako!

“A-and maybe he won't talk to me any more, anyway. Maybe he has found someone even more broken than me to fix.”

Lilly is stunned into silence. She feels her smile slipping away, and there is no way to keep it. What on earth can she say to this. The one person Hanako hates with a passion may be taking away the one non-blind, scar-seeing person she has allowed to get closer. And she thinks it is a competition about the severity of their respective conditions. Hisao is not like that. Or, well, maybe a bit, but he is certainly better than that. There is no point in saying any of this, though. To be able to believe in Hisao's friendship Hanako first has to believe in herself. And she has been trying to do just that for years and years and years.

Somewhere to her left, Lilly hears the humming of a bee. For a while she gets lost in the sound, and then it fades into the distance. What now? She and Hanako are walking to the convenience store. There is so much to say and no way to say it. Not every silence is comfortable. Well, there is no point in worrying. The sun is shining down on them, not yet summer-hot. The air is smelling nice, and around them people are having fun. It really is a nice day. If only Hanako could see it, too.

“A-and maybe he won't talk to me any more, anyway. Maybe he has found someone even more broken than me to fix.”

OUCH. That's an awful lot of hate to put in two sentences.

It really is a nice day. If only Hanako could see it, too.

This, however, is just wonderful.


...and what rumors might those be, hmm?

nemz wrote:...and what rumors might those be, hmm?

That's one of the area's I'm having trouble with. It's not the "what" of the rumours so much as the who. Rumours, gossip, and the desire to shoe-horn people are going to be a major theme, but rumours aren't going to be a major plot point. This is one of the things I normally improvise in a first draft, then see where it went and either strengthen it at points or put it more in the background. The dilemma is the following: If the rumours stay faceless it feels like a cop-out, but if I add a character just for rumour purposes that adds to much emphasis on the rumour-aspect, and it also means introducing a pretty flat character.

I'm not used to doing the write-a-part-post-a-part thing. It's... interesting.

OUCH. That's an awful lot of hate to put in two sentences.

I wanted to write a flashback scene that goes into what happened back then right after writing what you've just read. I couldn't bring myself to. It'll have to wait a week.

For story-post navigation please refer to the index post.

***

Encounters #1: Ikezawa Hanako (first month, first year at Yamaku, first floor, corridor)

School is school. Miyako tastes the thought and finds it insipid, dull. It's true on a certain level, but after one has abstracted this much, truth no longer matters. It is rather early in the morning. Class will start not all that soon, so she has time. She hasn't slept a lot this night and, afraid of falling asleep, she has headed for class early. But now she can't bring herself to enter the room. She is sitting on the floor in the corridor, just near the corner, which earns her funny looks from everyone who passes, which isn't many.

Yamaku is special. She tastes that thought as well and it is bitter. A temporary shelter from the real world, it's moderately useful for people with a condition that modern medicine can treat, or that can be alleviated by physical features in the environment. An example: If you're in a wheel chair, you get treated to ramps aplenty. Isn't that nice? Well, don't get used to it. After three years – provided you're not terrible at tests, in which case you might have slightly longer – they'll kick you out, and you get re-acquainted with the real world, where wheel chair ramps are more of a scarcity. In addition to the transient nature of sheltered school-life, the we're-all-friends-and-help-each-other-out atmosphere that prevails feels oppressive. This is a place built and maintained by idealists. There is, the very place says, more to living than being born, doing things, and dying. There is a measure of judgement in here, and if you fail to take your role in greater society, you fail this place and its kind intentions. But out there... It's a terrible word: cripple, whether you're one or not. It reminds of you haven't got, or what you risk to lose. Mobility, perception, health – all potentially found lacking.

What does Miyako have? Her condition has a name, a descriptions, but only one known workaround – and that one doesn't work for her. Sleep paralysis. Threat of Sudden Unexpected Death Syndrome. SUDS. Is she a cripple? She's losing sleep, but it's mostly her anxiety (which – people speculate – in turn makes SUDS more likely). All that's really wrong with her is her life expectancy. She's a statistical anomaly, perhaps a mental one, and possibly – in ways nobody really understands yet – a physical one. The biggest irony of her situation is this: she's supposed to want to live. She should feel more terrible about her situation. But instead she mostly worries about Mum worrying about her. Which is why she decided to come here. They get away from each other, and Mum gets to hope just a bit more.

So this, then, is her situation: from a place full of people who tried to make her miserable to feel better about themselves to a place full of people who try to make her her happy to feel better about themselves. It's a one-word difference, and the difference doesn't feel as big as the difference between the words in question.

Sometimes she thinks her true disability is big-city paranoia. She has a dorm room all to herself. In Tokyo you could fit two class rooms in there. Or maybe her pollution-trained lungs cannot take that much oxygen and it goes straight to her brain wreaking havoc? She doesn't fit in, and in not in the outsider way she remembers. It's a more basic incompatibility. Ghosts of goodwill haunt this place, and they reject her.

Well, even if brooding passes the time, she cannot sit here forever. She stretches her legs and back, readying herself to get up, and of course it's at that exact time that a student rounds the corner at a running speed. Miyako feels the stranger's feet hook her legs, and the student trips and falls:. A long-haired girl on all fours on the floor. Miyako waits, but the girl doesn't move, makes no sound.

“Hey, no running in the hallways!” Miyako calls.

A tiny voice stutters some apology. Oh, please. It was a joke. A proper response might have been: “No sleeping in the hallway, either.” No such luck. Miyako heaves herself up, rounds the girl and stretches her hand. “You all right?”

“Y-Yes.” The girl doesn't reach for the hand. In fact she doesn't even look up.

Miyako pulls back her hand. “Are you sure you're all right? You're not getting up.”

The girl makes some noise, and then scrambles to her feet. Another apology. Oh for... She wouldn't have lasted three days in Miyako's old school. Not like that. People would trip her up on purpose. Or worse.

“So, why were you running in the hallway, anyway?” Miyako asks. The girl's right hand, she notices, is badly scarred.

“P-People... pointed.” She is standing, now, but you couldn't exactly call her posture straight. Her hair is trying to obscure the right half of her face and failing. Scars here, too. How far do they go down? Miyako has a vague feeling that she should be surprised more. Instead she wonders about the intensity of the burns, and how it's a small miracles that hair grows at all on the right side of her head. And that her eye is still there, and – presumably – functional. Well, none of her business.

“Pointing at you?” Stating the obvious, to fill a silence that threatens to become awkward. How shy can you get? Pretty little princess waiting for people to talk? Lost her good looks and feared that people would talk?

“Y-yes.”

Miyako's conversational skills aren't the best either, but this? “Well, you've got pretty hair,” Miyako begins, and even tries to put some cheer in her voice, but it comes out all false. She can hear the sarcasm in her voice: ostensible praise, but an implied “at least”. That wasn't her attention, was it?

The girl shrinks. No doubt, she is used to the false-compliment taunt. Idly Miyako falls into the pattern. It's easy. “And pretty eyes, too, now that I can see them.”

The girl fidgets. Miyako, what are you doing? She's no threat! But there's a strange compulsion now pulling her forward. Pretty little princess waiting for her parents' praise. Pretty little princess waiting, waiting, waiting. No more praise for you. Poor little princess.

“But I bet they were pointing at these scars of yours.” Stop it, Miyako. Look, she's about to run. Or cry. Or break down. “It's such a pity. You could have been so pretty.”

All hunched, the girl turns away from Miyako, starts walking. Stooped, tiny steps, but quick ones, and getting quicker. Still, Miyako has no trouble overtaking her. “You shouldn't hide them,” she purrs. So that's what it feels like to prey on the week. She is disgusted with herself, but there is no stopping. “It's deceptive. People think you're pretty, and then they get close, and... ugh!” She mock-recoils. The girl stands frozen; now that Miyako had overtaken her, there is no reason why she wouldn't do it again.

“P-please, leave me alone...”

Ah, that's better. Speak your mind little princess. Speak your mind. But such a tiny voice. Not good enough. A step forward. “You really shouldn't hide your scars, you know? Be a monster. Scare them off.”

“Leave me alone!”

Ah, almost loud now. Another step forward, and she is much too close. Miyako reaches out a finger, and gently strokes the hair out of the girl's face, tucks it behind her ear. The skin feels rough, but beneath her finger tips she feels the girl freeze. Her eyes widen; she grows rigid. Then, with no warning:

“LEAVE! ME ! AL-” The rest of the sentence gets lost in a furious screech. Miyako feels something impact her chest. She's pushed backwards, but there is no wall. Confusion. She loses her balance. Arms are flailing helplessly, hands find no grip. The stairs? She tries to look. Mistake. Her feet no longer stand. She twists in the air. Her hip, back and shoulder – misaligned – thump and bounce. Her brow hits something sharp and sparks replace her vision for a moment. Her neck hurts. Her arms desperately try to find a grip. A sharp pain, as her little finger snaps. She flashes in and out of consciousness. Blood is in her left eye. And then it is over. She lies on the floor, breathing heavily. She is sore all over. Her little finger hurts a lot; her head is throbbing. Her eyes are closed. She hears footsteps approaching her. A male stranger's voice; too old for a student. “Are you okay? What happened?”

What happened? Ah, that's right. Well done, little princess. But next time deal it out in smaller doses, right? In her minds eye, she sees the girl's eyes, just before she explodes in anger. All the fire that melted her right side is in them. Memory? Imagination? No matter: It's glorious! But, oh!, the pain. She could do without the pain. She feels like laughing, but it hurts too much.

***

Hanako breathes hard. At first, she doesn't know where she is. There is only relief. The noisy girl is gone. Hanako has pushed her away, and she is gone. Then the world comes flooding back in, and she takes a step forward. She has pushed... The stairs? For a while she looks down the stairs and doesn't comprehend what she is seeing. There are splotches of blood, not much, but what there is should be in a body and not on the stairs. Further down, there is a body. And she is lying still. It is the noisy girl. The nosy girl. The annoying girl. Hanako is surprised that she doesn't feel bad. And then a man in a white coat appears and kneels down beside her. So the girl is not dead.

Why is this no relief? It should be. Is Hanako a bad person? Only bad people push other people down the stairs and feel neither remorse, nor guilt. Maybe it doesn't count if the person you push down is a bad person herself? But is the girl down there a bad person in the first place? If all the people who have ever been mean to her are bad, there is not much hope for this world, is there?

If that girl isn't a bad person, then perhaps Hanako herself is a bad person? What was it she said? Be a monster? Scare them off? Maybe that is the only way after all. Hanako doesn't want to believe it, but she feels empty. And doesn't the evidence lie down there?

She drops to her knees, can't stop looking down. And then the man beside the girl looks up. That's right. If you do things like push people off stairs, you have to take responsibility. Her hair is in disarray. Her scars must be visible, but she only feels empty. For once, she doesn't care. Whatever happens now, happens. She can only wait.

***

Nurse comes back in. “She's in shock.”

“I guess,” Miyako replies. “So?”

“She says, she pushed you down the stairs, because she's monster.”

Miyako chuckles. “Oh, dear. She's killing me. Yes, she pushed me down. But she's certainly no monster. I told her she should be one. She must have picked up on that.”

“This may sound unprofessional, but right now I have the urge to break your other little finger. The good one. You taunted her, didn't you?”

Miyako shrugs, then holds out her left hand, stretching the little finger. “Be my guest. I probably deserve it.”

Nurse frowns. “Well, I'll pass, for now. So, what happened. They'll want a report.”

Miyako takes a deep breath. “I taunted her. She pushed me down the stairs. What more is there to say?” She pauses. “Oh, wait. Yeah, it's totally my fault. I was looking for her breaking point, you know? She has these scars and apologises for them. Really, it would be better if she didn't have them, but they're not as hideous as she seems to think, and even if they were, what's she doing apologising for them. As if any of that is her fault. That pissed me off, I think.” Another thoughtful pause. “I've only ever used the mind set on bullies before. It tends to keep them away. Maybe it's a skill I don't want to go to waste?”

“Listen,” Nurse says, “bodies are my speciality. Your finger will heal pretty quickly, and the wound on your head is nothing to worry about. I couldn't find any signs of a concussion, though I'd like you to stay here for a while. Her shock will fade soon, too. But how long do you think your words and behaviour will stay with her?”

Miyako shakes her head. “Drop in the ocean, I'd say. I didn't make her who she is. And I'm not using that as an excuse either. Maybe you're right and – through some unhappy co-incidence – I crushed some new-found hope. It's not something I like to think about, but it's possible. I'm not proud of what I did, but there it is..”

“Hm,” Nurse says. “How do you feel about an apology?”

“To her?”

“Who else?”

Miyako shakes her head. “I have no idea what I'll do if I see her again. What if she accepts my apology with that tiny voice of hers? Just like that?”

“How about self-control? Ever heard of that? Good for your health, too, I've heard people say.”

Miyako closes her eyes and lies back on the bed. “No promises. But I'm not opposed to an apology on principle. But not right away. And someone would need to be there. In case I fuck up.”

“She's in shock, now, anyway. You rest a while, and think about what you've done, okay?”

“Mhm.” Nurse goes outside again, to tend to the burned girl.

***

Chaotic neutral is looking more chaotic evil here, even with the rationalizations.

nemz wrote:Chaotic neutral is looking more chaotic evil here, even with the rationalizations.

I can see that. Her reasoning tends to point towards a social-darwinist anarchism (which would be chaotic evil).

***

On a thread maintance note: I'm going to make an index-post and link to that. I'm afraid that otherwise the index on top of each story post will be so long that it might blow the length limit on the longer posts. (To get a feeling for the scale of things: there's going to be one more post to finishe the Encounters/Hanako thing; then from three to five posts before part one is done. Maybe more, if certain aspects need to be expanded on.) So that's going to be quite some index after it's finished. Better off in a post of its own.

Meanwhile I Wait

Index

Part 1

Confrontations with the Incubus #1 / I.1. The Dawn Thief / Writing Home #1
I.2.Drama Club Girl meets the Student Council (Warning: Spoilers for Shizune Route)
I.3. The importance of smiling
Encounters #1: Ikezawa Hanako (first month, first year at Yamaku, first floor, corridor)
Encounters #1 (continued)
Encounters #1 (concluded)
I.4. Rumous
I.4. Rumours (continued)
I.5. Being nice, being mean
I.5. Being nice, being mean (continued)
I.5. Being nice, being mean (concluded)
I.6. Fireworks


Part 2

Confrontations with the Incubus #2 / II.1. The Market Value of Her Dawn
II.2. Worrying
II.3. Disorientation
II.4. Pretending / Writing Home (#2)
II.5. Feminists
II.6. How Do You Think I Feel
II.7. Pencil-Pick-Up Reflex
II.8. A Boyfriend to Show My Mother
II.9. It's Always Sex
Soul Dissipation (#1): Mother
II.10. A Measured, Comfortable Distance
II.11. Benefits
II.11. Benefits (continued)

Part 3

Confrontations with the Incubus (#3) / Encounters #2: Tezuka Rin (First year, third month, in front of the infirmary, Ground floor)
III.1. The Depth of her Loneliness
Soul Dissipation (#2): Childhood Friend

For story-post navigation please refer to the index post.

Encounter #1: Continued

Her mother's ringtone. No surprise they contacted her. Miya closes her eyes and listens to the melody for three beats before she picks up. “Mum?”

“Miya. Tell me you didn't do that.”

“I didn't do that.”

“The truth.”

“Which one will it be? Much as I'd like, I can't fulfil both requests.”

“Oh, Miya. Why? You're better than that.”

“Am I? Evidence suggests otherwise.”

“But why? Where did I go wrong? I didn't teach you to be mean to people, did I? Did I?”

“You? You did nothing. Sometimes people go bad. Case in point.”

“That's not what I sent you there for. That's really not what I sent you there for.”

“And it's not what I came here for, either. Life is full of surprises.”

“Don't believe I don't remember how you came home crying every day. You know how it feels. You know. So why, so how can you do that? Tell me, because I don't understand.”

Miya draws a deep breath through her teeth. “I. Can't. Explain. How? Why? The abuser becomes the abused. It's such a cliché. I lose style points just for that.”

“Style points! Miya, be serious for once. You hurt her. So much that she pushed you down the stairs. Doesn't that tell you anything? Anyone home? Do you even think?”

“All the time, Mum, all the time. And I'm so fucking tired of thinking. Thoughts go round and round and go nowhere. Yeah, I hurt her. And she shoved me down the stairs. She was beautiful, when she did that. I suppose she'll hate herself for doing it, but she shouldn't.”

“She shoved you down the stairs. They say she's quiet and shy.”

“Hah! It's always the quiet ones, isn't it? Anyway, it was quite a bit of work. I can tell you that.”

“Oh, for... You're proud of it!”

“What?” Was she proud of it? Miya's phone arm dropped. Her mum's voice was far away and slightly mechanical.

“...Miya? Miya?”

Miya lifted the phone back to her ear. “Mum...”

“Are you even listening?”

“I almost dropped my phone. Did I sound proud?”

“You most certainly did”

“I... I'm... She's scarred, Mum. Really badly scarred. Burn scars, I think, but I'm no expert. She's gone through quite a bit there. And then I'm sure people are staring and pointing and talking behind her back, and she apologises? That piss- that really annoyed me. I mean really annoyed me.”

“It pissed you off.”

Miya chuckled. “That's what I was about to say, yes. See, it's as if... as if... if she plays the victim role, what else is there left for me to do? It's-. Gah! Everything I say sounds like an excuse.”

“You didn't really want to do that, did you?” Mum's voice sounds so gentle. Her mum wants to believe in her; and with that tone of voice she almost believes in herself. Almost.

“It's not so easy, Mum. Part of me most certainly wanted to do it, or I wouldn't have. Or maybe that's not exactly it. I'm trying to be honest here. But how? I don't understand what's going on with me. I'd really like to be the villain, here, because that'd be pretty easy to understand. But... then I'd hurt you, and I don't want that. But I'm hurting you anyway. It doesn't-”

“Oh, stop right there. This isn't about me. You've- you've hurt...”

“You say that, but it's all about you, isn't it? I mean, yeah, you're kind like that, and you don't want it to be about yourself. But that girl? She's a stranger and you're my mum. Am I supposed to pretend that strangers matter more than family? It's not that nothing in me cares about what I've done to that girl; it's just a rather small part, and it's not active right now. No pretending, right? Well, then get this: I know you sent me here because you thought I'd make friends, maybe. But I can't think like that. I mean, one day, and probably not too far in the future, I'll go to sleep and just not wake up. Do I tell them? Do I surprise them? Can they rely on me? It's a joke. School's messed me up inside, and maybe I could get better, but it's going to take a long time and a lot of effort, and I'm not sure I have the former, and do I really want to waste my time on the latter if it's pointless? You know why I came here? Because I wanted to avoid moments like this, when I frustrate you to no end, and then that reflects back on me, and I'm feeling even more hopeless than before. You know that, don't you? Don't you?” The other end of the line is silent. A gasp, or maybe a stifled sob. Miya takes a deep breath. “Look, Mum, I'll try not to be mean to people, but I just can't promise. I know you want me to, but that'd be pretending, wouldn't it? I may not succeed, and then I'd have broken a promise. But don't you say it's not about you. “

Mum's voice wavers, than comes back through the line, all tiny and sad. “Miya, just... don't just try, try very hard. Okay?”

“I'll try very hard,” Miya says.

“Promise?”

She almost says that she'll try very hard to promise, but catches herself and shortens it to, “I promise.” There's hardly any difference, anyway.

“And... are you all right? You fell down the stairs. They say you're finger's broken. Does it hurt?”

“Quite a bit, when I accidentally hit something. Well, I've got bruises all over, too. They don't hurt as much, but they're a more steady pain. Well, I'll survive, I guess.”

The sound that comes through the line is halfway between a sob and laugh. Mum's no good with black humour. “Take care of yourself,” she says. “And remember, you promised.”

“I will.”

“I'll call you soon.” Back to pretending. She won't.

“Yeah, looking forward to it.”

“Well... Take care.” And the line clicks closed.

For a while, Miya listens to the beeping of the empty line. On the other end of the now cut line her mum is most likely crying. It was there in her voice, so obvious. It always ends like this. Miya is good at hurting people. It's perhaps the only thing she is really good at. She hangs up and the phone goes quiet. Her entire room goes quiet. She wants to leave, but she isn't allowed to. She's suspended - pardon, given time to think about what she has done – and during the time the other students go to class she has to stay in her room. The other girl, she has been told, is also suspended, for the same duration. And at the end of that week they shall meet, five people, principal, two students and their home room teachers. And then they shall discuss all the thoughts they had during this week. It will be a farce, and as long as everyone acts accordingly, things should go fine. She will have to try very hard. She promised. They will expect an apology. Miya can do that. There is a part of her that's sorry. Surely that can be exploited. Still, does the other girl even want an apology?

And anyway: what is her name? Miya can't believe it took her that long to even wonder. So this is how much she cares. If she has to die, this week would be the time. But there's no way her life would end quite that conveniently. Hah! No way but forward. And always remember: it's a farce. You don't have to mean what you say, and better not say what you mean.

***

[Question: Does anyone know if we know the name of Rin's homeroom teacher? If not, I'll make someone up. I hope it's not Nomiya. He'd wrack my scene...]

Dawnstorm wrote:[Question: Does anyone know if we know the name of Rin's homeroom teacher? If not, I'll make someone up. I hope it's not Nomiya. He'd wrack my scene...]

I don't think it was mentioned, but even if it was it doesn't really matter. It's your story after all

Keep up the good work

I don't think Nomiya has a homeroom, actually. Typically in Japanese schools the classroom belongs to the students and the teachers of core subjects shuffle between them. As a non-core instructor he has his own dedicated space where students come at various times in the day for elective slots but I doubt he's even full-time staff considering the couple of times in act 1 you drop by during school hours and he isn't there.

If I had to guess the three full-time senior teachers (there are four classrooms but only 3 currently in use, as per Rin's route) who most likely cover the required core subjects like so:
3-1 XXXXX: Japanese and Civics (Rin and Emi's homeroom... probably Miya's as well)
3-2 YYYYY: English and World History (Lilly and Kenji's homeroom)
3-3 Mutoh: Science and Math... probably Physics and Calculus, to be precise.
...with additional part-time support staff that work with multiple grade levels for elective classes like Art, Music/Chorus, PE, Home Economics, Computer Sciences, etc. There's probably some shared laboratory space that Mutoh can send the students to as needed as well.

So yeah, just make something up.

Iirc Rin and Emi are in class 3-4.
Also, Lilly's homeroom teacher is called Ms Miyagi.

So 3-1 is empty? That seems rather odd.

Not sure it's empty - there are simply no characters from that class appearing in the story.

Well one of them is empty because that's where Rin likes to hide out sometimes, and we're explicitly told it's currently going unused. I suppose it could be 3-5 or higher, but I thought it was stated somewhere there are only 4 classrooms in the hall. Hmm.