Yuletide Yamaku - The Yamaku Reader Story (Updated Dec 19)

[Helbereth]

Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Chapter 4|Chapter 5|Chapter 6|Chapter 7
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Chapter 4: Lies, Blame, and Bolognese

The musky smell of sweat hung in the darkened room, invading his senses, acting as a constant reminder of his shame, and turning Taro's thoughts toward despair. If he'd had the willpower, he would have gotten up off the floor and opened the window to at least let in some fresh air—the cold might also have done him some good—but he didn't want to risk being seen, and it was just easier to remain unmoving. The very idea of exposing himself to the animosity and ridicule of his classmates was simply too awful to bear, so he opted for becoming a recluse. Not only had he severed his only two lasting friendships with a single punch, but he had begun to believe it was his fault.

There was no guard assigned to his door following the incident, but that didn't matter. No self-respecting warrior would dare run away from a mistake, so he entertained no thoughts of escaping without facing the punishment for his crime; the laws of Bushido might even demand that he perform Seppuku for his shame, though he didn't have the guts for that, or a sword for that matter. He knew his being some kind of warrior was just a fantasy based on exposure to too many Shogun movies and melodramatic Manga, but the reasoning stood. Having convinced himself that his actions were unconscionable, malicious, and just plain shameful, he had decided to accept, and was ready to face whatever punishment society deemed necessary.

Well, that may have been an overstatement; he was terrified of facing his parents, his sister, or anyone back in Kyoto when the inevitable expulsion was made official, but he knew running would just have made things worse. So he sat on the floor in the dark, leaning against the door to prevent intruders from breaking in and seeing him in his disheveled state, and he waited... and waited. Time seemed to have lost all meaning, though not only because he couldn't see his alarm clock past the backpack he had thrown on it haphazardly upon returning from the offices after giving his statement. No, it seemed time no longer existed for Taro Arai; his time was over, and all that remained was for the band to play its sad, sad song.

“Taro?” came an unexpected voice, “Are you there...? Taro?” Almost inaudibly soft, sweet, and oozing with loving concern, it sounded like Molly.

However, that seemed impossible; conscientious and thoughtful, the moment she saw Takashi's jaw, Molly would have written Taro off as being irredeemable, and rightly so—he was a monster. Considering that, the chance of her coming to visit him just seemed too improbable, so Taro thought he must have been dreaming. Unlike the monster who could once have called himself her friend and now sat in deserved darkness suffering from maddening hallucinations, Molly was above such degenerate behavior as he had displayed in the library. Despite her missing legs, she had grace and poise, and would never have assaulted someone over words, no matter how vile or hurtful—not even if they attacked her personally.

“Outta the way, Mols—this is a job for a more practiced throat!” came another voice, this one much louder and shrill, though somehow equally sweet in tone. In the meantime, Taro managed a slight chuckle at her likely unintended double-entendre and assumed he wasn't actually hallucinating—if he hallucinated Miki, she'd be in his room already.

“TARO, you SHIT!” Miki screamed, probably loud enough to echo all the way to Bangaladesh—the farthest place he could think of at the time. “Open your God-damn door, asshole!” she barked, her tone becoming louder and more threatening with each word, “If you don't open this God-damned door,” she started kicking his door with every other word, “I'm gonna KICK the FUCKER... DOWN!”

Her footwork notwithstanding, Miki always had a way with words, though Taro was in no mood to hear them, nor did he think they were deserved. “Go away!” he shouted as loudly as he could manage, rapping his head against the door as he sorowfully whispered, “I'm not worth the effort...”

Her voice cracking with irritation, Miki threatened, “You live on the first floor, Taro, and I can break your window with my stump!”

“She'll do it, I've seen her bust a store window!” came a third voice, this one followed by a tired snort—apparently they had dragged Suzu along for the pity party.

“That was in a dream, Su-” Miki started to say, apparently deciding not to bother arguing before she finished. Instead she started kicking the door hard enough to make Taro bounce, and he shook his head in disbelief. “Open this door this fucking instant, or I swear to God I'll-” she paused once again, and the rapping stopped as she muttered sarcastically, “Oh, good idea, Mols! Where was that BEFORE I kicked my toe bloody!?”

Taro's eyes widened as the tumblers in his locked door started clicking, and he remembered giving Molly a key to his dorm; she often came hunting if he didn't show up at their meeting spot before walking to class. His eyes started searching the darkness for some way to bar their entry, but he didn't have time, so instead he braced himself against the door. Almost as soon as he planted his foot on the carpet, he heard the knob turn and groaned as the kick plate dug into his back.

“Ow, what the fu-” he started to say, slamming his other foot against the sidewall to try getting some leverage. Being barefoot didn't help matters, and he was soon skidding across the carpet trying to fight against the force of at least three intruders, who, when combined, easily outweighed Taro—though not by as much as he would have liked.

“Let us in, jackass!” Miki shouted, giving the door a hard shove, “Stop blocking the-”

“Why are you even here! Haven't I suffered enough!” Taro cried, grimacing as the rug scraped against his foot, then snapping an angry glare up at Miki as she poked her head in through the opening, “Come to make me feel worse, did you!? I thought we were friends!”

“We ARE friends, Fat-Ass,” she balked, the nickname not helping improve his mood.

“Well, we shouldn't be after what I did!” Taro shot back, finally relenting as he curled up against the sidewall; adding rug-burn to his list of problems wasn't worth the effort. “I'm damaged goods,” he muttered, folding his good arm across his chest and pouting like a child, “Or haven't you heard?”

“God damn! Have you even been out of this room since Wednesday?” Miki grumbled absently, sniffing the air and starting to gag.

As Miki—coughing all the way—stepped into the darkened room and snapped on the light, momentarily blinding Taro, another blurry figure, made distinct only by the twin braids across her shoulders, stepped in behind her. Molly glanced around the room for a moment, then settled her gaze on Taro's disheveled form and smirked. Taro expected an angry scowl, or something more akin to her stink-eye from her after what he had done, so he thought his eyes were playing tricks when her whole face was suddenly engulfed by a toothy grin.

“Y'know, being sequestered to your dorm doesn't preclude the use of the showers...!” Molly chided, the grin turning into a wince as she squeezed her nostrils shut with one hand.

“It smells like day-old sex and shame in here,” Miki remarked, picking Taro's backpack off the alarm clock. Turning it over and raising an eyebrow as she dropped it on the bed, she laughingly added, “But, at least you're still feeling virile...” she paused and glanced at Molly, “That's the word, right?”

Groaning, Molly answered, “Yea... well, sorta...” she shook her head and turned back to Taro, “Anyway, you should probably take a shower...”

“And change your clothes,” Miki added.

“And kill the mice under your bed!” Suzu joked from out in the hall, which made Molly shriek, and leap up onto her knees atop Taro's desk chair. Laughing uproariously, Suzu then stuck her head in through the door and shouted, “PSYCHE!”

“Gosh darn it, Suzuki!” Molly snapped, her obvious ire barely making a dent in her saccharine tone.

Pointing a complimentary thumbs-up at her laughing friend, Miki remarked, “Nice one, Snoozu!”

“I do what I can~!” the sleepy girl replied, leaning against the door and turning a drooping smile at Taro, “You've looked better, Big Guy... and I mean that in a completely platonic, non-sexual way.”

“Noted, I'll tell Aaron you were good,” Taro replied flatly, turning toward Miki, who seemed to have been leading their excursion. “And just what am I showering for?” he asked, holding his arm out wide as he added, “Filth should live within itself, don't you think?”

Folding her arms, Miki scolded, “First, put your arm down—you're losing friends...”

“I'll be in the hall, Pit-Stains,” Suzu added, disappearing as advertised.

“Second, I'm guessing nobody told you, so I won't be mean... but they lifted the sexua- sequest- Um...” Miki sputtered and scowled, then shook her head and yelled, “The fucking house-arrest bullshit!”

“Sequestering,” Molly stated.

“Yeah, that!” Miki agreed, then narrowed her eyes and barked, “Shut the fuck up, Missy Mnemonic!”

A snicker from the hall prefaced Suzu's remarking, “Wow, Miki... that was actually impressive! You said that whole word-”

“You too, Snoozu!” Miki yelled, aiming her stump out the door.

Taro typically caught onto things slowly, and this case was no different; it wasn't that they weren't being direct, but he hadn't been paying much attention. However, as the three girls bickered among themselves, Taro started to understand what they were trying to tell him. Apparently it was good news, or at least that's how it seemed. In any case, the three girls were too engrossed in their argument to notice him raising a curious hand.

Rolling his eyes, and having to yell over their screeching, Taro asked, “Are you saying the school-board made a decision?”

His outburst turned all three faces, each grinning a little too much, straight back to face him. Miki was the first to reply, “Kinda?” she shrugged, nodding toward Molly, “You read the report, Mols—you wanna explain the long and short of it?”

Sighing loudly, Suzu stated, “This should be good...”

Taking a deep breath, which made her chest puff out comically, Molly explained, “They haven't decided what to do with you yet, but, considering the mitigating circumstances, they've come to the conclusion that it wasn't an unprovoked attack, and sequestering you in your dorm, especially over the holiday, is unwarranted—furthermore, you'll be allowed to move around the school grounds, attend your shifts at The Beijing, participate in extracurricular activities, and go back to class starting tomorrow... A formal inquest is scheduled for the first Monday in January, but it's expected you'll get off with little more than a slap on the wrist and some community service...!”

As Molly gasped out the remainder of her breath, and nearly collapsed for lack of air, Suzu, quite contrary to her idiom, threw out her arms and exclaimed, “You're free! Free as a bird...!” then settled back to her more indifferent demeanor and added, “And we're hungry, so you're cooking...”

~^~

After a shower, which the girls made very uncomfortable by standing just outside the bathroom door, Taro redressed, donned his coat and the festive red winter hat Suzu insisted he wear, and followed the girls out across the school grounds, all the while trying not to stare at their shapely behinds—he seriously needed a girlfriend. Lumbering along a few paces behind, Taro tried to ignore their conversation, though the chill in the air made their voices carry more than usual. Most of what they were saying sounded like the typical girlish things they were always prattling on about, but he caught a few stray bits that seemed to hint at a particularly nasty rumor going around the school—something about pants-wetting.

At first he tried to catch up so he could listen, but one of them would turn a glare over her shoulder every time he got within range. That seemed unfair considering all he really wanted to know was how—or by who's genius—he'd gotten off the hook, but they were fond of keeping secrets. In the meantime he could speculate all he wanted, so he did. Someone could have been in the library the whole time, but Taro figured he would have seen them. Considering that Hakamichi and Mikado were just leaving when he arrived with his former friends, he entertained the possibility that one of them had returned for some reason, and wound up witnessing the altercation. However, since one of them probably would have stepped in before things escalated, that didn't seem likely.

Whomever and however it had happened, he was glad for the reprieve, though he wished it had happened sooner. Ever since the foreboding conversation with Nurse and the Dean, Taro had been preparing to face expulsion, a bleak future, and, perhaps worst of all, having no friends. During one particularly dark moment, he even wondered if they might cart him off to a juvenile detention center, or some kind of institution for the criminally unstable. However, someone had convinced the school-board that he wasn't a degenerate, and Taro felt like he owed whoever that was a big, mushy hug and free culinary services for life. Unfortunately, it seemed clear that the girls weren't telling him who his savior was, purposely keeping him in suspense.

“Hey, you gonna walk back there and stare at our asses the whole way?” Miki blurted suddenly, making Taro halt in his tracks.

Giggling, Suzu added, “I don't really mind—Aaron can't be bothered Skyping me, so I've been craving some attention...”

“Don't encourage him!” Molly groaned, then held out a hand toward Taro with a welcoming smile, “C'mon, Big Guy, it's warmer up here~!”

Tentatively, if only because he still wasn't sure what was really driving them, Taro joined alongside the girls. Much to his chagrin, they immediately started talking about the fight, but he expected that would come up eventually. Although the jerk probably deserved more of a pummeling, Taro had decided punching Takashi was wrong, though Miki disagreed. According to her, it was a long time coming, and she said that in the same situation—which she seemed to know more about than should have been possible—she would have followed him down and kept hitting until Takashi's face resembled raw hamburger. Suzu nodded in agreement, and, perhaps most surprisingly, so did Molly.

Actually, not only did Molly agree with enacting further violence against Takashi, she even wanted to include Lezard in the righteous pummeling. The corny euphemisms she used often made Molly sound much less impassioned when compared to Miki and Suzu, but Taro got the sense that she would have been the first one throwing punches; she was quite the spitfire when riled, and he had experienced her mean left hook. As they walked the rest of the way into town, the three girls discussed all the nasty ways they would punch, kick, throw, and otherwise mangle Takashi and Lezard. Apparently, whatever had happened, it was enough to turn all three of the girls completely against his former friends.

Even if it turned out he still got expelled, it seemed he hadn't lost all his friends, and as they neared the town, Taro decided it was better to enjoy his freedom, just in case it was fleeting. As expected, they soon approached the Beijing, which was usually closed on Friday nights, but he and Molly both had keys, and the owner didn't mind them using the kitchen as long as they kept it clean. That usually meant bringing their own supplies, too, but, as they stepped inside, he noticed a canvas bag waiting on the counter-top; evidently their trip wasn't an impromptu excursion. Molly hit the lights as Taro moved to inspect the bag, and the girls each took a seat as he started rifling through its contents.

“Fresh tomatoes and basil, yellow onions, portobello mushrooms...” he muttered, shifting the bag onto its side to access the remaining contents, “That looks like ground lamb, olive oil, vermicelli, and... is that balsamic vinegar...? Yes... Yes it is...” he paused and looked toward Molly, “What am I making?”

“Lots of something good,” she replied, giggling as she spun around in her swiveling barstool, “Anything using those ingredients—chef's discretion~!”

“This is all Italian stuff, though... good Italian stuff, but...” Taro said, pushing everything back into the bag and hefting it onto his shoulder, “Is that a hint?”

“Just go make something, Fat Ass!” Miki barked, grinning at his reaction to her newly-adapted term of endearment, then planting a hand on each hip and thrusting out her considerable chest. “You think I keep this girlish figure by eating Top Ramen and Cheese Doodles?” she added derisively, aiming a glare at Suzu before the snippy narcoleptic could formulate a snappy comment, “I need carbs, and protein, and-”

“Don't mind her,” Molly stated in a calm tone, still spinning on her barstool, “She hasn't been eating well since Ig and Oog suckered you into almost getting expelled...”

“She's practically wasting away,” Suzu added, leaning heavily against the counter with a Cheshire grin, “In another day or two we'd be carting her off to a hospital—come to think of it, don't let her have any!”

With a suggestive sway of her hips, Miki flit her eyebrows at Taro and countered, “I'll show you my boobs if you hide Suzu's portion!”

“Like he hasn't seen 'em before!” Suzu accused.

Turning to squint narrowly at the blue-haired girl, Miki snarled, “That was one time, and I was drunk... so it doesn't count!”

Taro grinned at the memory as he stated, “I think it counted...”

“Who asked you, Thunder-Gut!?” Miki snapped, then pointed at Suzu and added, “And you! Stop reminding him!”

Sighing, which may also have been a yawn, Suzu muttered, “I doubt he needs any reminders...”

“That's... probably true,” Miki admitted, shrugging as she sat down on a barstool. Chuckling to herself, she added, “Things you can't unsee, right?”

“I'll always remember it fondly,” Taro said, which drew an eye roll from Suzu.

“You're starting to sound like Takashi and Lezard, there, Big Guy,” she muttered, probably not meaning a word of it, though it hurt nonetheless, “Should we go back and tell them to lock you up again?”

“Aww, that's just cruel, Snoozu,” Miki chided, then shook her shoulders provocatively and taunted, “'Sides, you're just jealous he hasn't seen your little bee-stings!”

Her typically smooth, indignant tone only mildly interrupted by another yawn, Suzu countered, “That's 'cause I don't get drunk and start dancing on tables!”

Pointing at the door with her stump, and pointing an angry finger at Suzu, Miki shouted, “That's it, Suzuki! D'you wanna step outside!”

“Fine!” Suzu yelled, slapping the counter energetically, though she barely seemed able to keep her eyes open.

The everlasting voice of reason among the trio, Molly tapped the counter lightly, just loudly enough to catch everyone's attention. “I have a solution,” she said with as straight a face as she could manage. “How about we all flash him?” she suggested jokingly, “Then he'll have no reason to favor either one of us.”

Punching the counter, Miki grabbed at the bottom of her shirt and threatened, “I'm game!”

“He'll still end up favoring Miki!” Suzu balked, her grogginess starting to limit the indignation in her tone.

“I was just kidding!” Molly sighed, landing her forehead in an upraised palm, “Ugh, morons...”

[Helbereth]

As the girls devolved into name-calling, it occurred to Taro that these arguments had never ended with any actual boob viewing, so he rolled his eyes, hefted the canvas sack up a little more securely, and meandered his way toward kitchen. His absence was eventually noticed—or the sound of running water and clanging pans was, at least—and Molly made her way into the kitchen with an apologetic smile to offer her services as sous chef. At first he wanted to refuse because he felt like she didn't owe him anything, but he could never refuse a determined Molly.

Besides, there was enough food in that bag to feed his entire classroom, so he accepted her offer and pointed toward the aprons hanging near the door. Watching Molly don an apron and roll up the sleeves on her festive green and red sweater, Taro smiled to himself and marveled at how perfectly normal things seemed. As always, once she was ready, Molly turned a bright smile and a casual nod at Taro—a bit of professional deference—and they got down to cooking. Imperfect as it may have been, Taro felt almost as though someone had hit the reset button and he had his whole life back, except now his only friends were three girls, and if only for a moment, he entertained a fantasy about being Charlie to their Angels.

When he recovered from that ridiculous thought, Taro found Molly standing in front of him with a curiously raised eyebrow. As with their classroom partnerships, they had a system, though Taro led in the kitchen. Molly didn't speak a single word of protest as he handed her the bag of onions to peel and dice; she had always maintained a stiff upper lip as part of her regimented upbringing, but Taro found she got a lot of crying done whenever they cooked together.

While she got that started, Taro began working at cleaning the other produce, which somehow reminded him of the one time Miki said she appreciated him, and not just for his cooking. Of course, she had been fall-down drunk and shirtless at the time, so he couldn't quite focus on determining her seriousness, but she was usually more sincere with a few drinks in her system. While he brushed the portobellos, he found himself wishing his perfectly normal world also included an unobstructed view of Miki's glorious breasts, but that was probably entirely too much to hope for, even in the spirit of the holidays.

~^~

A perfect storm, Taro and Molly whirled through the kitchen;
Two dynamos in motion, their banter kept them in stitches.
Taro minced garlic, chopped 'shrooms, and cut basil—chiffonade
While Molly retrieved eggs, dairy, flour, and yeast,
'Cause Italian food without rolls is nothing if not odd.

And while Molly mixed, kneaded and rolled out the dough,
Taro browned the lamb and onions, and added tomatoes.
They added stock to the burgeoning sauce, then herbs and spices,
While in the meantime Miki and Suzu were left to their own devices.

That was up until, and seemingly out of the blue,
Suzu wandered into the kitchen; she wanted to taste the food.
Gliding across the tiles, she seemed out of phase;
Her feet barely touched the floor as she wandered, quite dazed.

Neither had yet noticed their friend's meandering pace,
Until her path became obvious and it sparked a desperate race.
Molly dropped what she was doing and dashed to Suzu's aid,
Arriving in time to snatch her hand from the boiling bolognese.

“What're you doing!” Molly cried, tugging Suzu around to face her.

“Hey, no worries, I have asbestos hands!” Suzu protested, still seeming half asleep. Indignantly, she tried to reach for the boiling pan again, and Molly had to whack her with a wooden spoon to make her stop. “Ow!” she moaned, giving up the attempt, “That hurt, you bi-”

“No!” Molly scolded, grasping the bigger girl's shoulder. “Bad Snoozu,” she added, marching her toward the exit, “Go back and sit down!”

Taro chuckled as the little Indian girl pushed the groggy Suzu out through the door, then raised an eyebrow when a hand appeared from the side. Grabbing her shoulder, the extra hand tugged Molly, along with Suzu, out into the dining hall. Hearing a scuffle, and a yelp from Molly, Taro moved to follow and find out what was happening, but the door swung in as he approached, and he almost ran directly into a scornful-looking Miki—he wasn't sure how she got back to the door so fast.

“Girls only!” Miki warned, holding up her stump as she narrowed her eyes. Not letting him attempt protest, she pointed toward the stove-top with her other hand and flatly added, “You man...! You cook!” then pointed her thumb over her shoulder, “We women...! We talk!”

Without another word, and holding her warning stump up the whole way, she walked backwards through the door and didn't break her methodical stride until it swung shut. It was hardly unusual behavior for Miki, though Taro wondered what was happening nonetheless. He wouldn't put it past her and Suzu to concoct a silly plan to fetch Molly without telling her why, and he chuckled thinking it could all have been a ruse, but othing really surprised him anymore where they were concerned. Besides, he had pasta to drop, and rolls to check, so he just went back to getting everything ready and tried not to think about whatever diabolical plan Miki and Suzu were out there convincing Molly to go along with.

After a few short minutes, Molly returned from the pow-wow with a crooked grin, and returned to stirring the sauce wearing a fake expression of innocence. That automatically made Taro suspicious, and he could probably get her to slip an accidental hint if he tried, but, figuring whatever it was couldn't have been worse than the past two days he'd spent in seclusion, he decided to let things play out and enjoy the surprise—if it was a surprise. Putting his mind into his work, he directed Molly to keep watchful eye on the pasta while he put together a quick salad. The epicurean in him wanted to make everything perfect, and he believed distractions in the kitchen only led to burnt meals and disappointment.

While he put the finishing touches on the plates, Molly left on the pretense of informing the other girls that dinner was almost ready. In her absence, Taro used basil leaves to garnish the pasta, placed rolls on the plates, and wiped down the edges of the salad bowls—the girls wouldn't notice, but he would. Somehow, feeling like he'd lost every friend he had in the world, and then finding out that was completely false, had given him a newfound zeal for cooking. True to that, he and Molly had used every last bit of the available ingredients in making the meal, which resulted in a feast rivaling his family's holiday dinners. It was obviously too much food for the four of them to eat in one sitting, or three sittings, but the leftovers would be incredible.

When the door squeaked open, Taro didn't even turn as he spoke, “Grab a serving platter for the rest, Mols—we can wrap up any leftovers after Miki gets done...”

“I doubt there'll be any leftovers,” came a familiarly deep, male reply, which surprised Taro enough to turn.

Finding Hisao standing in the doorway, Taro quirked an eyebrow, but Hisao's presence wasn't particularly surprising, and certainly not unwelcome. Bowing slightly in welcome, Taro greeted, “Oh! Hey, man!” then furrowed his brow and asked, “Did Miki call up Emi, or something—they're not out there fighting again, are they?”

“...Something like that, but no... they're keeping their distance,” Hisao replied, reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he stepped over the threshold. “I'll help with the platter, but we might wanna grab a few more plates,” he added, heading toward the metal shelves that held the dishes, “You go on ahead, I'll get enough for everyone...”

“E-everyone?” Taro stuttered, turning a curious look toward the door as it swung closed. Squinting to try peering through the little round windows, but finding them no easier to see through than normal, he shrugged, then turned to see Hisao pulling down a whole stack of plates—a dozen, at least. “T-that many?” he sputtered, reaching up to scratch his forehead, “U-um...”

“Just go, I'll be right out—tell Emi to come gimme a hand,” Hisao stated in an even tone, nodding toward the door.

Uncertain what could be awaiting him through that door, Taro swallowed hard and turned a longing look toward Hisao, who was too busy searching for silverware to notice. Blinking a few times, he tried to determine whether he might still be dreaming. He didn't know why blinking might help him do that, but his hand was occupied with a pair of beautifully arranged plates of pasta and two bowls of salad he couldn't afford to drop; the owner was a stickler for making his employees pay for broken dishes. Figuring it couldn't be any scarier than an inquest with the Dean, School Counselor and Head Nurse, Taro shrugged and started his way toward the door, all the time praying it wasn't the inquest in question.

When he emerged, someone appeared at his side almost immediately to take the plates, but he barely noticed who it was or where they went—it was probably Molly. Instead, Taro looked out at the gathered crowd that now inhabited almost every booth and stool in the place. Some of them were facing away, which made determining who they were difficult, but it seemed as though every single one of his three-three classmates was there, minus a few notable exceptions, and plus a few extras. Standing there dumbfounded, Taro tried to say something, but he didn't really know why they were there, and he considered walking over to greet some of them like a good host should, but that action had the same problem.

Light chuckling drew his attention to where Molly stood behind the counter, apparently fixing drinks for a few of their classmates—Natsume and Naomi, along with a mousy girl to which he couldn't put a name—it was either Misaki or Ikuno. All three of them waved in greeting, then moved away from the counter, apparently headed back toward their booth in the front corner. Meanwhile, Molly reached over and tapped Taro on the shoulder, and he turned to find her standing there with Emi at her side. Where the little runner girl had come from, he couldn't fathom, but he remembered Hisao's request and that thought allowed him to eek out a few phrases.

“H-Hisao asked for you,” he said, aiming a shaking finger at Emi, “to help with-”

“Got it, Boss!” she interrupted, patting his numb elbow as she walked around him, headed for the kitchen door.

As he started to turn and watch her leave, the most striking thing he noticed was that she had a formal black skirt and white blouse on, which was not only strange, but completely unprecedented where Emi was concerned. Molly grabbed his elbow and spun him back around, and he almost went to say something, but she was scowling, so he shut his mouth and waited.

“Don't go getting lost, there, space cadet,” she said, tugging him out around the counter and toward an empty barstool. “Sit,” she commanded, and he did. “Stay,” she added, and he nodded, figuring it was better not to argue, “I'm gonna go help Hisao, you just wait here and... close your mouth!”

As she hurriedly jogged back around toward the kitchen, Taro closed his gaping mouth and turned to face the counter. Having barely been aware of his surroundings when he arrived there, he was a little shocked when he found himself bumping elbows with someone, and paled whiter than a sheet when he saw his homeroom teacher sitting there, nursing a cup of coffee. Not wanting to disturb him, or make his presence known, Taro quickly pulled his elbow away and stared straight at the coffee pot on workstation behind the counter. His curiosity got the better of him after a few seconds, and he started sending furtive glances toward Mutou, trying to gauge his demeanor, but he remained as unreadable as ever.

“Mister Arai,” he said, his tone flat and a little bit groggy—he seemed to need that coffee he was nursing. “Don't take my presence here as a sign of your being exonerated,” he advised, to which Taro nodded. Then the tired teacher turned ever so slightly, just enough for Taro to see the contacts floating in his dreary eyes, and remarked, “I just came here to pay my respects to the man who threw the punch heard 'round Yamaku...”

Not knowing whether to wait and see if he had more to say, or just take it as praise and grin like an idiot, Taro chose to keep his mouth shut and just nod; he always figured Mutou didn't think much of his intelligence, but he also didn't want to open his mouth and provide proof. After a few long moments of Taro's nodding, which he realized probably looked stupid after the first few seconds, Mutou pulled the mug up to his lips and threw back the rest of the burning hot coffee inside. A moment later he spun around and stood, and Taro kept his eyes on that coffee pot. When a hand clapped against his shoulder, he turned to find Mutou standing there with his coat on, a solemn expression creasing the corners of his mouth.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Mutou drew out a folded stack of papers, wrinkled and stained with coffee as they were, and left it on the counter next to Taro. The solemn look turned into a slight smile as he stood back and remarked, “You're not a bad guy, Mister Arai, but...” Mutou's pause became elongated as he took a breath and seemed to reconsider his words. Finally he nodded slightly and clapped Taro's shoulder once again as he advised, “Do me a favor and don't make friends with losers... they're beneath you.”

As his science teacher headed for the door, pulling the collar on his duster up as he went, Taro turned to watch him leave. In all the three years he had attended Yamaku, and in all the science classes he'd had with Mutou—not always as his homeroom teacher—Taro could count on one hand how many times they had spoken about anything other than missing homework, failed tests, or truancy. All that combined probably wouldn't total what the man had just said, neither in volume, nor importance. The crowd barely seemed to notice his exit, but, perhaps for the first time, Taro actually wanted to hear more of what Mutou had to say. There would probably be time enough for that later, though, so he swiveled back around and leaned against the counter.

There sat the stack of papers Mutou had left—and Taro had almost forgotten about already—the top page bearing a bold title that, as he examined it while hovering over the folded paper, seemed relevant to his recent turmoil. Picking it up and unfolding it, Taro found a biting, unrelenting editorial defaming the actions of both Takashi and Lezard. Reading through it quickly, and then again, Taro shook his head in disbelief; it contained eidetic imagery that could only have been witnessed directly, and then relayed to the writer in all its inglorious detail. If anything had perhaps resulted in his case being reconsidered, it had to be this editorial that was—he thought coincidentally enough—penned by his favorite playwright, Hanako Ikezawa.

“Quite the read, huh?” said an unfamiliar voice.

Turning to find Naomi leaning against the counter nearby, munching on a bread roll, Taro replied, “Y-yeah... uh... hey?” he paused to clear his throat, “Any... idea who Hanako's source was?”

“Trade secret,” she replied, taking a bite of her roll, then talking through the mouthful as she added, “Eben aye rassen tuld...”

“What?” Taro prompted, not used to translating her food-speak.

A disgruntled sigh from behind him turned Taro around to find Natsume rolling her eyes at Naomi. “At least close your mouth, sweetie, you'll attract flies,” she said with a sardonic smirk, then turned down toward Taro and added, “Hanako can't reveal her sources—it ruins the integrity of her work—our work. You understand, right?”

Taro, not usually one to pick up on tone of voice, easily uncovered the meaning buried under the sweetness of her smile. Returning an equally sweet smile, he stated, “So you know who the source is, you're just not telling me.”

“Exactly~!” Naomi lilted, apparently having finished her bite, “If you wanna find out, you should ask Hanako... I wouldn't count on her being forthcoming, though!”

Again Taro could easily pick up on her saccharine tone, and realized she was saying he should talk to Hanako, but she wasn't attending the gathering. Not finding that particularly surprising, he shrugged, turned back to face the counter, and conceded, “I'll give that a try... next time I see her.”

As she turned to leave, Natsume spoke encouragingly, “Good luck, Taro~!”

“Nice punch, by the way,” Naomi added as she followed her friend.

They certainly left him with a lot to think about, though Taro wasn't sure that would really help. All he needed to do was find Hanako—somehow, somewhere—and ask the identity of her source. It sounded simple enough in his head, except that she was damn near impossible to find—really like a ghost—and still quite skittish around... well, everyone. Still, she knew who deserved his hug and culinary skills for life, so finding and at least asking for her source—even if she flatly refused, or simply ran away—was of paramount importance. In the interim, the Beijing looked like it was on the verge of bursting into a full-scale party, especially now that the only adult had left, so Taro decided to make the most of the festivities.

It hadn't taken terribly long for Taro to figure out it wasn't all for him. Many of those in attendance were heading home within the next day or two, and would miss the school festivities, so this was their last chance to gather with their friends for a little holiday merriment. That sentiment certainly registered with Taro, and so did the fact that they counted him among their friends; they obviously trusted him enough to do the cooking. With that thought in mind, he got up off his stool and made a bee-line for the jukebox in the corner; if they trusted him with the food, music seemed like the next logical step. It wasn't rigged for holiday music, but it was programmed with plenty of currently popular songs and classics.

Music soon filled the dining hall, much to his classmates' approval, so Taro returned to his seat at the counter. Almost at the same time, Hisao and Emi emerged from the kitchen with Molly on their heels, each carrying dishes, platters, or salad bowls, and all laughing and joking as they walked. They laid the platters out across the counter—buffet-style—then started handing out plates and silverware to all the attendees. It probably wasn't the best kind of food for a party, but nobody complained, and most of them had glowing compliments for the chef and his assistant. Late into the night they ate, drank—Miki had left a bottle of whiskey hidden among the coffee cups—sang karaoke, and didn't return to Yamaku until well past midnight.
________________________________________________________________
Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Chapter 4|Chapter 5|Chapter 6|Chapter 7

[bhtooefr]

I flatly disagree. I think if someone spent that long being repressed and developed anxiety bordring on panic attacks, and perhaps developed a stutter--especially someone with such a favorable interest in literature--they could, and or would, start expressing themselves through writing, and with much greater ease. Hello personal experience, how d'ya do!?

I could easily see her expressing herself through writing. I also think she'd at the very least not want her name ANYWHERE near an article like that, with all the shit that would stir up. I mean, panic attacks whenever attention is centered on her, and doing things that will get attention laser-focused on her under her own name?

Basically, I could see her writing the article, but her anxiety preventing her from delivering it to Natsume.

[Mirage_GSM]

seemed relative to his recent turmoil.

Yes, also relative, but related or relevant would probably be more common in this context.

Miki had left a bottle of whiskey hidden among the coffee cups

So I assume Shizune and Misha were among those "notably absent?"

Great story so far, and I don't expect to be disappointed by the final chapter.

[Helbereth]

Basically, I could see her writing the article, but her anxiety preventing her from delivering it to Natsume.

Ah, did you not then notice the fury in her emboldened march? The scorned chronicler (Hanako) veritably stormed the castle dormitories (dorms) to deliver a writ of excommunication (defaming editorial) unto the court scribe (Natsume) to defend the actions of her would-be advocate-General (Taro) against the unjust judgement of her sovereign (the Dean)! So charged with resolve, she, for a short time, wielded all the tempestuous fury of the downtrodden with nigh reckless abandon, and only regretted her attempt at edification upon returning to her domicile. Not all things are always as they seem, besides, and I request an extension of trust until such time as all the facts are laid bare.
Good God, that paragraph required two Google searches and about ten minutes of hemming and hawing over the structure.

Miki had left a bottle of whiskey hidden among the coffee cups

So I assume Shizune and Misha were among those "notably absent?"
Great story so far, and I don't expect to be disappointed by the final chapter.

Well, of course. It's possible the Student Council decided to break protocol considering they weren't on school grounds, and the holiday, but they were probably among those not in attendance along with Lezard and Takashi.

I've had quite a bit of fun writing this, even with the tight time constraints; I've never written anything with such ferocity. Not even the initial five chapters of Tomorrows Doom, which contain around the same word count total, were written this quickly. At some point, I decided to include everyone in room three-three in some capacity, even DanjaDoom's insert--Aaron Fukui, who takes Lelouch's chair in his tale, and I conveniently sent home for the holidays, hence Suzu's comment--and there will be more cameo appearances and name drops before the end.

For now, I'm more than 6 hours overdue, I still have ~1000 words to write (give or take) and then probably a couple hours of editing to shore everything up in the final chapter; I don't expect I'll get finished until midday at the earliest. This might also get an epilogue, but I haven't decided whether I want to perhaps do that for New Years--probably just a ~5500 word short--or take a break and maybe wait until Valentines Day. That might make for a better time-span where a burgeoning relationship is concerned. At this point I'm rambling, which I should stop doing because I have work to do, but I'm also an avid member of the ADD club, so I can't stop myself sometimes.

Oh, I also fixed up that wording issue you mentioned; I had the word 'relatives' mashed into my mind so many times today that it spewed out into my writing.

[BlackWaltzTheThird]

even DanjaDoom's insert--Aaron Fukui, who takes Lelouch's chair in his tale

Aha! I was wondering who this mysterious new character was. Doubly so, since he and I share the same name - it made for quite the double take. I see what you meant when you asked if you were perhaps overdoing it in writing a 30,000 word story; and, I should also note, those snippets that I said could potentially be in-character in context were, in fact, in-character in context.

Also, a random side note: is this "hemming and hawing" phrase an American thing? I take it as being equivalent to the "umming and ahhing" that I've only ever known people to say.

[Silentcook]

Good God, that paragraph required two Google searches and about ten minutes of hemming and hawing over the structure.

And a misspelling of "chronicler", subtler things aside.

[Helbereth]

even DanjaDoom's insert--Aaron Fukui, who takes Lelouch's chair in his tale

Aha! I was wondering who this mysterious new character was. Doubly so, since he and I share the same name - it made for quite the double take.

Yeah, as far as I'm concerned, since Lelouche was replaced by an unnamed character upon release, I've just kind of allowed DD's Aaron to fill the void; to my knowledge, he's the only one to have used that particular spot in the classroom to insert a character--most such inserts place them in Hisao's spot, and he instead found a way to have Hisao there with his character. I'd go so far as to consider Aaron Fukui part of the TD universe, though I may have slipped a reference to Lelouche in an early chapter.

I see what you meant when you asked if you were perhaps overdoing it in writing a 30,000 word story;

It just kept growing. My efforts to make it more interesting--add characters--and generally put details into it--the way I describe Aiko's thought processes, for example, except with a more omniscient perspective--just made it increase in size. Once I decided to go into that much detail, I edited the first part from its original ~2800 words up to its current ~4500; it's the shortest part, and didn't originally include the actual discussion leading to Taro telling the story, nor did it go into as much detail with the retelling. It had talked about it, but only in a few paragraphs of exposition and no dialogue past the initial greeting scene.

and, I should also note, those snippets that I said could potentially be in-character in context were, in fact, in-character in context.

Boobs. It's all about the boobs. That's what this whole story is about underneath. Just boobs... BOOBS!

Also, a random side note: is this "hemming and hawing" phrase an American thing? I take it as being equivalent to the "umming and ahhing" that I've only ever known people to say.

Its origin eludes me, but it's similar to 'making a fuss' or 'over-thinking' in terms of what it's supposed to mean. Incidentally, i have no clue what "umming and ahhing" might mean because I have never heard it before.

Good God, that paragraph required two Google searches and about ten minutes of hemming and hawing over the structure.

And a misspelling of "chronicler", subtler things aside.

Ugh... I was probably operating without a literary license when that happened; I've been losing a lot of sleep for the past week.

[BlackWaltzTheThird]

i have no clue what "umming and ahhing" might mean because I have never heard it before.

It's quite literally "umm"-ing and "ahh"-ing. As in, the sound people make when thinking about something. 'Making a fuss' or 'over-thinking' is pretty much it, except it also implies some kind of vocalisation to that effect.

[Oddball]

Well, the story isn't too bad, once you get past the fact that Hanako seems somewhat out of character and far too confident. It strikes me that this might be the levels she's at in a few years, not months.

Also, you left a "reserved" at the end of your first chapter.

[Blasphemy]

I mean if Helbereth is basing this Hanako of her "Lilly route"-version then it doesn't seem too unlikely. That said, I think the huge progress that Hanako (seemingly) goes through in Lilly's route does kinda stand in stark contrast to what we get to see in Hanako's own route. That route, being hers, takes precedence to me as far as her characters is concerned. Especially since one can assume that changes had to be made to Hanako's character in order to let the story focus on Lilly.

That said, Lilly's route is obviously canon as well. So taking that Hanako version as the basis for this story can hardly be considered OOC I suppose.


I'm really enjoying the read so far, am eagerly awaiting the last chapter. Nice job making Takashi and Lezard some huge dicks... Didn't take long for me to loath the characters. That was some vile trash talking...

Now right now this story has a strong "and everything went well and people are happy" vibe, which would fit the Christmas mood I suppose. That said, I'm wondering if the last chapter holds a surprise in that regard...

[bhtooefr]

Well, Hanako shows more progress in her own route than she does by the same point in Lilly's route. Remember, Hanako's route ends a month or so prior to Lilly's.

The trick is that this isn't her own route, nor is it Lilly's route. It's Emi's route. (That said, it'd be quite easy for Hisao to build the friendship with Hanako and Lilly, and then end up on Emi's route - in fact, it's the route that's most likely to set flags correctly for an off-screen friendship without getting on either Hanako or Lilly's route. So, I guess I could see the Emi route having similar results to the Lilly route, reducing the OOCness.)

One other issue... how did Hisao and Emi take the lemon shed incident hitting the rumor mill?

Now, I will note that other than the issue with the characterization of Hanako (which is a major one), I do like this story.

[Helbereth]

Well, the story isn't too bad, once you get past the fact that Hanako seems somewhat out of character and far too confident. It strikes me that this might be the levels she's at in a few years, not months.

It involves a bit of disbelief suspension, I admit, though I think Hanako could easily have reached that point in so short of a time under the right circumstances. If anything, she shows that there's a whole other Hanako under the surface in the blow-out bad ending, which I kind of lampshaded near the end of the third part. All that part of her needed was a slow leak to release the tension in a more controlled setting, which is what I thought her work with the newspaper club would provide. It might still move along too fast, but I also needed this story to happen around the holidays while she's still attending Yamaku, so maybe I jammed a year or two of progress into six months.

Also, you left a "reserved" at the end of your first chapter.

Fixed the 'reserved'. Had to shore up the following two posts before I could post the first chapter, and I apparently didn't delete one...

I'm really enjoying the read so far, am eagerly awaiting the last chapter. Nice job making Takashi and Lezard some huge dicks... Didn't take long for me to loath the characters. That was some vile trash talking...

Firstly, I think you mean 'loathe' with an 'e'. Loath means 'unwilling' or 'lazy', while loathe means 'feel disgust or extreme dislike'. If I'm honest, I wanted to generate some antagonists for the story and Lezard sort of filled that role in Scissorlips' Suzu route, but in a very passive-aggressive way, and Takashi just looks like a morose motherfucker in the class photo. Part three's title 'Trickster Toady Scapegoat Scribe' essentially describes the roles of the two main antagonists, Lezard and Takashi respectively, alongside the protagonists, Taro and Hanako.

Now right now this story has a strong "and everything went well and people are happy" vibe, which would fit the Christmas mood I suppose. That said, I'm wondering if the last chapter holds a surprise in that regard.

The problem I'm having with the last chapter has more to do with constant distractions rather than dubious plot-lines, though there are a few little surprises to come.

One other issue... how did Hisao and Emi take the lemon shed incident hitting the rumor mill?

I'm sure they read it, might even have suspected who witnessed the altercation, but didn't say anything because Hanako, and for fear of anyone finding out who the anonymous couple in the shed actually was--a good journalist never reveals her sources.

Now, I will note that other than the issue with the characterization of Hanako (which is a major one), I do like this story.

It occurred to me that I could have done this through one of the other girls' perspectives--same story with some obvious changes--but I'm an optimist when it comes to Hanako, and I think it only seems OOC because many prefer retarding Hanako's progress so she remains crushingly shy, skittish and panicky even years after graduation.

[bhtooefr]

and I think it only seems OOC because many prefer retarding Hanako's progress so she remains crushingly shy, skittish and panicky even years after graduation.

That's not what I prefer. That's the very last thing I'd prefer, in fact (although, to be realistic, I think that in extreme situations, she'd still be panicky, but far, FAR less so than she is as of the VN - it would be something that happened very occasionally, not an almost daily occurrence). And, I think with time and the proper support, she'd eventually come out of her shell, even during her time at Yamaku. She even starts to do so after five weeks or so in her own route, and is making good progress after a couple months in Lilly's route. (Unless you follow the "she's faking it to get out of Hisao and Lilly's way" theory, but even then, her being able to fake it is still significant progress in and of itself, and it'd probably translate into actual progress if she kept faking it well enough - the "fake it until you make it" strategy.)

But it's implied that the kind of support she needed to start coming out of her shell enough for everything else to happen was something that nobody but Hisao gave her. (I'm also not saying that she needed Hisao to give her that support, just that nobody other than him had.) She may not have been receptive to Naomi's attempts to get her into newspaper club otherwise.

That said, there is always the Hisao and Hanako being off-screen friends theory, which could've easily happened on Emi's route (all the Hanako flags before the Emi choice point can be hit without blocking any Emi flags from happening - and you've even implied that that happened, given how strongly you said she feels for him...), and him being friends with her without smothering her seems to be the key to her progress. Hmm.

OK, I'll re-evaluate the story in light of that.

[DanjaDoom]

How sweet, you still remember me (Although I should probably mention that Aaron sits in Lezard's place, conveniently next to Suzu and Miki. Lelouch is still there, and in fact hangs out with Lezard.)

But yeah, I really enjoyed this. I've been busy with schoolwork, holiday shit, and pure burn out, but I've been pretty inspired to start writing again!

Also, you're more than welcome to put him in any universe you'd like.