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**Pretends to discover the chapter**

This is a good chapter, I have to say. I'll look your music mistakes for the next chapters But this is a good chapter, as I told you, and I wonder what Hisao would give to the band with his current level, there is a good perspective of evolution for him here. And give Ritsu some love, she deserves it. I can't wait for the next chapters, there was a good scene, it can give a good perspective of evolution for Hisao, and I wonder if Mao will kill him soon or tolerate his presence for some time.

Go write your Secret Santa now

Hello Talmar!

It would seem that I've been a bit quiet on the Katawa Shoujo forums lately. Much like you, I've been working on my own project that I'm trying to finish before posting anything else, but I think that Switching Dynamics is worth making an exception for.

With that said, let's dive into this new scene!

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Scene 10: Revival

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I just want to come right out and say that this scene knocked it out of the park. This is a gripping scene with so much to unpack and speculate about. It feels we've reached a milestone in Hisao's journey. All of the plot development and events from the past nine scenes came back in some fashion during this scene, and I think that the payoff, while subtle and modest in its execution, was very impactful.

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The ‘inciting event’ of the scene comes in the form of Hisao approaching a sleeping Ritsu after class and contemplating on whether or not to wake her up. It’s a simple setup for dramatic tension. The stakes aren’t too high for Hisao, but Talmar still made good use of this time to throw in a little character development for Hisao, a little tension for the reader, and even a little foreshadowing for overzealous analysts like myself:

Talmar wrote: ↑Thu Mar 18, 2021 11:33 pm “Don’t mind her,” Mutou continues... “She needs [the sleep].”

She ‘needs’ it? Hmmm... Interesting. Perhaps Ritsu is struggling with insomnia as a result of her treatment... Wait a minute! That should sound familiar, shouldn’t it? Insomnia as a side effect of medications is something that Hisao struggles with as well. The more and more we find out about Ritsu, the more and more that her struggles and hardships seems to echo Hisao’s. I think that these two will find that they have a lot in common when they get to know each other a little better.

But most importantly...

I mentioned earlier that Hisao has to make choice on whether or not to wake up Ritsu, but that’s actually false. Hisao never actually makes the choice himself. Instead, Mutou steps in and makes the choice for him—telling Hisao to let her sleep. Hisao accepts this—seemingly relieved that someone stepped in to take the load of that choice off his shoulders. Now, Hisao doesn’t have to worry about the consequences of the choice...

Everything that transpired in the beginning of this scene is part of a larger pattern at play, and this pattern is what launches us into the next section.

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After Hisao exits the classroom and heads into the hall, Hisao is presented with possibly the scariest choice for a someone of his age: “what do I do now?”

What follows for the next half of this scene is an introspective journey inside of Hisao’s mind. While I previously complained in scene seven that this kind of long introspective journey harms the pacing for the reader, I think that Talmar addressed all the complaints that I had then. For one thing, Hisao isn’t just thinking and thinking and thinking, he’s also performing actions, and there are natural interruptions to his thought process to give the reader a chance to breathe. Second of all, rather than solely recollecting on old information, we’re being given a lot of new information and new insights to what has happened. Also, the introspective monologue is much shorter, streamlined, and focused here than it was in scene seven. All in all, a major improvement.

So, what revelations actually come from this monologue? In two words: indecision and distrust.

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Indecision:

When Hisao leaves the classroom, he can’t make up his mind as to what he wants to go do next. He aimlessly wanders around the school, subconsciously hoping that something or someone will call out to him and give him something to occupy him. After all, this is what always happens, isn’t it?

This is the ‘pattern’ that I was talking about earlier. Up until now in Switching Dynamics, whenever Hisao is faced with a choice, someone always steps in to make it for him.

• Shizune and Misha nudge Hisao in the direction of joining a club, they invite him to have lunch with them, they encourage Hisao to help out with the festival, and as always, they try to get him to join the student council.

• Saki gets Hisao to help out with the music club, and she draws a map to encourage Hisao to go explore the nearby city.

• Shouhei nudges Hisao into eating lunch with him, and indirectly offers Hisao a place in his band.

• Tsubaki encourages Hisao to join a club like the astronomy club.

• Mutou trying to get Hisao into joining a club, among countless other smaller encouragements throughout the week.

• Nurse encourages Hisao to keep an eye on his health and to stay in decent shape.

This is all to say that in this scene, for the first time since arriving at Yamaku, Hisao is left completely alone. Not in terms of being physically alone, but being without influence from others. Hisao has spent a week in the nest, but now his time’s up, and he has to leave the nest and fly on his own. He has to make a choice all on his own, but now that no one is there to help him do so, Hisao regretfully comes to realize how crushingly indecisive he is. Even after Hisao thinks that he’s made a decision, he’s constantly second-guessing himself—such as how he walks right up to the door of the astronomy club before deciding against the idea at the last possible moment.

Hisao’s battle against indecisiveness... is one that I can fully relate to. I’m quite similar in age to Hisao. I can remember that battles waged in my mind as I tried to decide which colleges to apply to; which classes to take; what future career to pursue. Even after I thought I had it all figured out, something that an online article, or a friend, or a teacher, or a family member said would tip the scale in another direction.

Being indecisive and knowing it... sucks. It’s absolutely demoralizing. I mean, how can you possibly hope to trust yourself when your opinions and mindset can change on a whim?

...Surprise, surprise... guess where that leads us...

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Distrust:

Why is Hisao so indecisive? It’s because he is distrustful.

For the past few months, I have been theorizing that much of Hisao’s struggles stem from his distrustful feelings toward other people. However, this scene has started to make me doubt my previous assertion. Yes, I think it’s clear by now that Hisao struggles to trust other people, but is it possible that the source of his distrust runs even deeper than simply his hesitance around others?

Like I stated earlier, Hisao spends this scene bouncing all around the school looking for something to do, but right as he's about to make his decision, he backs out. He backs out because he's afraid of messing things up in front of other people:

• He's afraid that he'll accidentally insult or offend someone disabled.

• He's afraid that he won't know what to do or say even if he makes friends with some of the other students.

• And most critically, he's afraid that he'll overexert himself and risk embarrassing himself by having a heart attack in front of his friends, repeating what happened with his old friends.

Notice how in these three examples that I just listed, Hisao isn't afraid of other people, he's afraid of himself, and that's where I will write my new thesis:

Hisao won't be able to trust others until he trusts himself.

Hisao doesn't trust himself. He hasn't trusted himself for this entire story. His lack of confidence is what truly disables him, not his heart. But don't get me wrong; his heart absolutely plays a role in Hisao's lack of confidence. In theory, Hisao could die at any moment of his heart decides to give way. No matter how much Hisao recovers, he'll have to somewhat live on edge. It just so happens that Hisao, still newly grappling with his disability, is much less willing to trust the cards that life has dealt him—as anyone would be—and I think that Hisao is starting to realize all of this on his own:

Talmar wrote: ↑Thu Mar 18, 2021 11:33 pm ...I cannot trust myself to be responsible for the entire school.

I can’t even trust my own self sometimes.

See? Talmar sums it up nicely with these two sentences. I didn't even need to do all of that writing!

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Finally, after all of this contemplating, Hisao makes the decision to go to the music club. It's important to note that Hisao isn't fully confident with his decision. It doesn't even really seem like he knows why he's going to the music club—motivated more by instinct than by any planning—but for once, Hisao is making a decision completely on his own. In terms of his character arc, that's pretty big. Is his character arc done? NO. Not even close. Hisao still has a long way to go, but the first steps are always the hardest, and even if Hisao's first steps were as disorganized and uncertain as a woozy drunkard making their way down the sidewalk, he did do it. You could say that this is a revival of sorts...

*Looks at title of the scene*

Oh, wait!

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Next up, Hisao enters the music room and tries out the electric guitar. This entire section is about testing Hisao's choice to give the guitar another shot. He's made his choice, but is his resolve strong enough to stick to it? As it turns out, yes... barely.

The first obstacle in Hisao's way is actually asking Mrs. Sakamoto for the chance to play the guitar in the first place. When he does get his hands on a guitar, he has to play in front of everyone—meaning that he has to risk failing in front of them all. Not to mention he has to run through both songs while under constant scrutiny by the threatening stare of Mao. Speaking of which...

Mao is great. I really like Mao. She seems like the kind of person who wouldn't give you the time of day of you just plan on goofing off all day, but I get the feeling that she really respects people who try. She's also a perfect foil for the energetic and bouncy Shouhei. I expect lots of humorous scenes will come out of these two bickering.

Furthermore, in terms of story structure, this is the perfect time to introduce Mao. Now that Hisao has made his decision, Mao is there to put his decision to the test. Her no-nonsense attitude and her annoyance with indecisiveness puts Hisao on the spot more than once, forcing him to prove that he will stick with his decision.

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With the introduction of Mao, I would like to mention something that has me slightly worried about Switching Dynamics as a whole: the cast is getting pretty large.

I'm not sure how many more characters Talmar plans to introduce, but right now, we've got...

• Hisao

• Ritsu

• Hisao's Old Friends: Takumi, Shin, Mai

• Shouhei And His Friends: Tsubaki, Taichi, Chihiro

• Saki

• Mao

• Shizune

• Misha

• Emi

• Mutou

• Nurse

This is a large cast of characters. So far, Talmar has done a good job of juggling all of these characters, but if the cast gets much larger, I worry that it will be difficult to keep up. Some characters might end up getting sidelined, which is fine, but the point is that I don't really know which characters are going to be sidelined and which aren't.

I don't really know who our main characters and who our side characters are supposed to be. Obviously, Hisao is our main character protagonist, but Ritsu, who is supposed to be a main character... has had less than ten lines in ten scenes. If I hadn't been previously told that Ritsu was a main character by Talmar, I would have assumed that she was just a side character. She doesn't really give off the sense that she's a main character if one were to look at the text in a vacuum.

Outside of our main duo, we have Shouhei, who I'm pretty sure is going to be a main character. But then there's a character like Tsubaki... for a hot second I thought that she was going to be a main character, but now I'm not so sure. What about Chihiro and Taichi? Are they side characters? What about Shizune and Misha? Emi? Saki? Mao? I don't really know who I'm supposed to be focusing on.

What I'm trying to say is that we're now ten scenes in to this story, so establishing a focused cast of main characters should be coming soon... right? I feel like we're getting there, what with Hisao meeting Mao and joining the band (for now, at least...), but if Talmar keeps introducing new characters... I might start to get a little overwhelmed.

Again, this isn't a problem now, but I feel like we've hit a comfortable character limit. In the future... I just hope that Talmar doesn't plan to introduce, like, twenty more side characters.

We've got a good cast here, Talmar. Don't pop the balloon.

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Prediction time! Hisao mentions that he will never again meet up with his old friends from Tokyo. As far as he's concerned, those relationships have been severed. Later on, when Hisao joins the band, Mao asks Hisao where he guitar is, and Hisao mentions that it is still in Tokyo. This is pretty smart. In order for Hisao to go back and get his guitar, he has to go back to Tokyo and confront his past. In order for Hisao to move on in the future, he has to return to his past and make amends.

With this in mind, I am predicting that at some point in this story—possibly dozens of scenes down the line—Hisao will have to go back to Tokyo and make amends with his friends.

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Typos:

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Talmar wrote: ↑Thu Mar 18, 2021 11:33 pm Snapping awake from my distracted reverie with the shuffling of feet and chairs being pushed back under their tables I return to reality to find that school day is already over.

I think there needs to be a comma before "I return".

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Talmar wrote: ↑Thu Mar 18, 2021 11:33 pm Alerted I drop my bag and rush over...

There needs to be a comma after “Alerted".

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Talmar wrote: ↑Thu Mar 18, 2021 11:33 pm I look back at the girl, who’s standing there staring back at me with only her smile.While it looks friendly, she’s obviously forcing it.

I think there is a space missing before the word "While".

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Wow. That was a long post. In truth, I've actually been working on this post for close to a week now. It took me a few days to sort out my thoughts and come up with my discussion topics, but I think I'm at a good place to stop now.

Again, this is an excellent scene. So good. Really freaking good. I'm really excited for the next one. Fun fact: I recently picked K-On! back up. I’m about halfway through the first season. Having a good experience. It's a nice show when I just want something to relax to and not have to analyze and overanalyze.

As always, take your time on writing the next scene, Talmar. I hope that university treats you well and that you stay happy and healthy.

Take care, everyone!

Okay, just to bump this up for the first time in months. I'd like to open with a massive apology.

I'm really, really sorry I haven't uploaded in a very long while. Especially you, Wheeler. I'll get to fixing the errors and typos, and I'd just mention that your deduction is as always on point with what I have in mind. But I'm really sorry I haven't been active at all for the last couple of months. There's been a lot of issues; hospitalizations, life shattering revelations about this thing in my head, semester finals and last but not least, the eventuality of the inevitably traumatizing visit from my parents. For those who aren't familiar, I am ... well, I had bad memories with them. And they appear to be caring about me but I know, I know they're using me to make themselves look good in front of others. Which makes the revelation even harder to tell them.

I was ... early in April, I went to the state hospital's psychiatric department to fulfill the appointment that was a year late thanks to pandemic lockdown, concerning my lack of ability to focus, amnesia, and the nonstop headaches. Psychiatrist determined there's nothing wrong in my mental faculties and the headaches are concerning so she transferred me to neurology. In my neurology appointment in May, they determined, based on my testimonies of symptoms and such, and for how long it had been with me, that there's something wrong with my brain. Initial hypothesis was autoimmune encephalitis, thanks to my and my father's histories of autoimmune conditions, but after I was put into the hospital ward for a tripartite check-up in June (CT scan, lumbar tap, EEG), followed by an MRI scan when I was released, they deduced that it's not that. CT scan didn't reveal anything big (crossing out possibilities of aneurysm or cancer or the likes), nor did the test on my cerebrospinal fluid from lumbar puncture (crossing out possibilities of autoimmune disorders). The EEG test however did show results; focal seizures, bilateral epileptic discharges in the temporal lobes.

That, explains a lot. The headaches, the uncontrollable amnesia, the lack of ability to focus. It even explains the little jerking movement I, for most of my life, thought it's nothing serious and just a habit (or so my mother said; she gets irritated whenever I do that and always told me to stop it because it makes me look weird, which brings up the question, how long has this thing been with me?) It all stems from my brain frying itself by putting neural activity on overdrive in the temporal lobes, occasionally spilling out into other parts of the brain. It's not the classical general seizures, commonly depicted in media; you know, collapsing and uncontrollable movements and eventual fall into unconsciousness. Me? I'm aware of the experience, throughout, and I'm slowly adapting to its presence and making routines whenever there's an episode (find my bed, lie down, don't get up).

This has explained a lot about my problems since the start of this year. My failing academics, inability to focus on assignments, forgetting crucial things, and most of all, I'm slowly, and all the while aware, forgetting how to write simply because I can't remember what's a good word to use. It gets even worse whenever my parents, or even just a simple notification from WhatsApp, pops up. Throughout the latter half of 2020, I was constantly and incessantly berated by my parents to study and move out of my aunt's house (which I've been living in since getting kicked out of university dorms thanks to insufficient extracurricular activities - no shit I have insufficient of that, there's a pandemic going on) and WhatsApp is the primary venue of communication my parents use. It's the primary venue of communication for literally everything to be honest; Malaysians are addicted to this app, and I hate it. It came to a point where a simple beep triggers my fight or flight response, and I sorely want to throw the phone out of my window at the 31st floor. But I need it; most off-lecture discussions are here, and so are assignments. But at the same time, it is eroding my sanity, and every time it beeps my headaches gets incrementally worse. Phonecalls are even more damaging, enough that I don't want to elaborate. It really doesn't help either that late June and early July was the semester finals, as well as the time I was tossed into frenzy as my lecturers, who had only been informed recently about my seizures due to the late diagnosis, gave me a chance to finish the assignments I've accidentally missed. At the same time as the exams. Needless to say, I did bad in the exams.

I am writing this in a bout of sanity; just got my vaccine and is in a short period of peace. My parents are coming though, to help with my little sister's admission to university, and I don't know how to deal with it. But I'll handle it when the time comes; in the meantime, I really, really want to apologize for the lack of new SD chapters for the last 5 months. I am slowly recovering my ability to write, while trying to juggle both the inevitable confession about my seizures to them, as well as trying to rebuild things. I am however slowly whittling through the next chapter of SD, and while I cannot promise it'll be done soon, just know that it is being written. Slowly.

Damned headaches. Feels like electricity coursing through the inside of my head. And damn this fever; I know it's probably from the vaccine, though, so it's necessary. But still.

Keep in mind that your health is the most important thing.
If you think writing can help you get better that's good, but remember you don't owe us anything, so do everything at your own pace.
Hope the meeting with your parents went well and you're feeling better now.

Hello, hello! It's been, over a year, I think, since the last chapter update. As I posted earlier - apparently, because I don't remember that; I'll chalk up to holes in my memory to this thing in my head - I'm slowly but progressively learning on how to circumvent the obstacles Lady Fortune has cursed upon me, and, while this chapter is quite short for a year-long wait, it's mostly a new chapter that varies from the previous edition of SD thanks to me and Razoredge deciding to collaborate; in return for him using Mao, I know have access to his unique characters. Namely, Kaori. And no need to worry; our stories are very different continuities, so there's no need to read both of our pseudoroutes for completion's sake.

After this are all the pre-written drafts that I've already made during the four time rewrites this story has undergone a long while back, so you'll see them in rapid (as rapid as chapters can get in this thing) succession. Anyhow, welcome back to any who's still around. And mighty thanks to Elle, Razor and NuclearStudent for helping me proofread this.

Scene 11: Uncompromising

In short, I have succeeded in joining the band, and was given the option of leaving it once we have performed our part in the festival. I suppose this is for the best; I’m still not sure what really held me back. I had my motivations all in place; to repay the favors I owe Shouhei and Tsubaki for trying to get me involved in this school’s activities, despite my initial impressions of the prospect being disinterest at best. It is also for myself; no doubt I still love music, but when I was given the approval and opportunity to join, I found myself reluctant.

Nevertheless, part of me is glad that the admission was not that much of a hassle. However, it does feel like I ended up souring Mao’s first impression of me. Whenever she turned to me while she was berating Shouhei for slacking off instead of tidying up the place as she told him to do, I can almost feel the disdain.

Or is it something else? I’m not sure.

I don’t know enough about her. But no matter how much I want answers, I feel like I shouldn’t ask too much, what with their, or rather our, performance coming up in less than a week - a few days even - and they still have not found a replacement drummer. I can understand Mao’s frustration and desperation. Maybe this performance is meant to be part of her end-year extracurricular activities record for graduation? Assuming this school operates with a similar structure as my old one. If we both share the same commitment to performance, I would definitely do that too - if I had not ended up here, at the very least.

Anyhow, as Mao continues to explain to me my roles here, I slowly realize the full scope of the burdens and responsibilities of the previous lead guitarist, whose role I now have assumed. As Mao retells the story, with additional details Shouhei considered it to be fine to skip, or he did not know them himself, as I help him clean up the mess, my predecessor was called Ryou. He was the leader of the band and her classmate, before he was interred to permanent hospitalization, earlier this year. She said it was a disastrous heart attack that was saved too late, and now he is permanently brain damaged. Ryou currently lives in his hospital ward, dependent on life support. The doctors stated they’re not sure if he is conscious, or is aware of anything, if at all.

I can only offer condolences. It seems that she and Ryou were close; it is recognizable that she’s hurt in some ways when she talked about him; there was slight warbling in her voice. Mao does however quickly regain her sternness whenever Shouhei pops back in her line of sight. Regardless, Ryou had left the band in a difficult state to resume their duties and activities; the song they made, Sunset, was composed with the intentions of him as the lead singer. Mao did not ask me if I can sing or not, and frankly I am none too pleased with the prospect of testing out my own singing voice again. I don’t recall assuming the lead singer’s role back then, as that was Mao’s job.

After Mao was done explaining, she was going to sit down and watch us, or him, as if to ensure he does his job this time around, but then her phone buzzed and the next I saw her she’s hastily leaving with her folder, returning downstairs.

Once she was out of earshot, Shouhei and I continue to clean up the mess this room is in, and chatted a bit along the way, talking about me changing my mind and joining the band instead of opting to stay out, the piles of boxes sitting around, and his proficiency with the keyboard - of which, he admits, he’s still practicing to better himself. We both split up the task at hand; he handles the storeroom and the mess in there (including the stuff that fell on Mao’s head) while I handle the bandroom proper. To be frank, I have no idea where any of these things are supposed to be, so I just organize the boxes and their contents based on their labels, while also trying to make some more space to walk around. Underneath all this clutter are a lot of dust and the occasional cables here and there that seemed to be there since the last decade. I try to make an effort to sweep up the dust and dump them in the nearby dustbin with every few boxes removed and reorganized, as Shouhei makes a mention why he was pilfering through the storeroom to begin with. Turns out, he spotted something shiny through the window earlier this morning on the way to class, from the outside, and he got curious.

I think the expression I had when he told me that gave him enough of an idea of what I was thinking. He assured me that whenever he’s not running around looking for suitable candidates or people offering to take the job, he’s been practicing and the song we are going to play is already muscle memory to him.

I sure hope so, or this will be trickier than I thought.

I pause from sweeping for a moment, leaning on the broomstick. Oh who am I kidding, I might be the one to mess it all up. The momentary break made me notice the humidity of this afternoon heat, in this cramped room, even with the floor fan spinning at full speed. I head over to open all the windows, but it will take a while for the humidity to dissipate.

Maybe one day we can get an actual table and sofa in here, or something. God this place feels ancient. There are even papers in one of the boxes that dates back to 1980!

As the sun dips into its final crest, and the afternoon turns into evening, we finish up cleaning what can be tidied up. In the end, there is one big cube of stacked and arranged boxes in the corner, next to the storeroom door. The labeled boxes whose content I cannot ascertain where they should be sit by the door frames still, and that particular pile is still too large for my taste. Oh well, at the very least there’s more space around the makeshift tables and instruments to move around, and I found a couple of plywood to toss over to the stalls should they ever come up here looking for them. When I finally sit down, halting the fan’s automated sweeping to focus on me, and take a sip of water. Shouhei pops around the corner. “Hisao.”

I turn to face him, still drinking. “Hm?”

“What do you think of joining us for dinner at the town down the hill?”

What? Surprised, I put down the bottle and wipe my mouth before replying. “What why?”

Shouhei disappears again behind the corner, and I hear a box being put down. He then pops back in, leaning against the wall facing me as he shrugs. “I mean, why not? Was sorta thinking of like a celebratory occasion for you joining us!”

My heart sinks. I don’t have the heart to tell him that I agreed to do this only temporarily, and how I’m not sure whether I’d stick around after the festival. “Um …”

“Also, you’re hungry too, right?”

I don’t know, to be honest. “I mean, I am, but …”

“Perfect!” He disappears back into the storeroom. “Let’s finish all this up before Mao comes back.”

I flatten my lips. I don’t feel like I deserve this much of a welcome to be quite honest. It would be rude, however, to turn it down, so the only way I can say no would be Mao refusing to come along. To add to that, I have no idea if she would. Although, then again, this does present me an opportunity to get to know how the band works exactly, and since we will be working together in the festival, I suppose I don’t have much of a choice. Sighing, I get back to the pile of unsorted boxes to pull one out and empty its contents to sort them.

Also, it’s Shouhei, my arguably only friend here. I’m not familiar with his friends yet to consider them as such, and neither do they, I feel.

After some time in the silence of this stifling evening heat, still stuffy despite the breeze coming in from the open windows, the door creaks open as Mao enters. “I hate paperwork,” she mutters, grumbling, as she goes to sit on one of the makeshift box-chairs in front of the floor fan. She doesn’t seem to even notice me on the floor sorting out the clutter.

“Oh Mao’s back?” I hear Shouhei asking loudly, still stuck in the storeroom.

“Yes, I’m back. What do you want.” … that doesn’t sound good.

“Mao, I got an idea.” He pops back into view, leaning against the same patch of wall. “Why don’t we go down to that restaurant you guys brought me to a while back?”

Mao puts her glasses back on, responding to the proposal with somewhat of an exasperated glare. “Why?”

“I mean, to celebrate! We finally got a lead guitarist, Mao, thanks to Hisao here.” He points to me, and Mao turns to me as if she just remembered I exist here in this point in time and space. “Why not wind down for at least an evening?”

She pauses, turning to the fan for a moment, before turning to me, and the organized piles of boxes around me. “…maybe. I guess I can agree with that. I do need a break. Hisao, what do you think.”

...fine. “Sure, I guess.”

“Before that, though,” she states sternly, interrupting Shouhei’s cheer, as she turns to me, and then him. “I see you’re nearly done with the boxes. Good. Shou, what about you?”

“Oh I’m nearly done too don’t worry about that hahaha~.” He stammers out quickly before retreating back into the storeroom. Mao looks at him with a raised eyebrow before turning to me. I can’t help but laugh.

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“Before we go, though,” Mao speaks up.

Halting in our tracks, Shouhei and I turn to her. We are on our way down the stairs and I was asking him about the two-decade old music sheets I found earlier. Despite us both towering over her, Mao maintains the dominant position in our little band effortlessly. “…Shouhei, you can go ahead to the gates,” she continues, turning to him before turning to me, “but Hisao, I want you to go get Ryou’s guitar from the music hall storerooms.”

“Will do!” he pipes up cheerily, complete with a salute, before continuing onward. I stay, though, to ask.

“...why?” I ask.

Mao clears her throat before she replies. “His guitar was tuned to the song we were going to perform. The one we’ll be playing this Sunday. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s the same red guitar you used earlier.”

“Oh.” Somehow I feel like I should have known that, seeing she was looking for someone who can play that thing. “Sure,” I nod, continuing. She tags along with me.

“On top of that, you will need the cleaning and tuning equipment he had stowed somewhere in the other building.”

“The one next door? The performance art center?”

Mao looks at me with an eyebrow raised, but she seems more surprised than shocked. “Oh, you know where it is already?”

I shrug. “Figured from what Saki told me on how the music club here works, you guys gotta have some place bigger than that hall.”

She nods, approving. “True. We mostly use that hall for meetings and simple lectures.” Mao pauses. “If you decide to stick around, you can come along if you want.”

I look at her momentarily, and look ahead. If, she said. It feels like there’s something she thinks may dissuade me ahead. And if there is, then I’m not sure how to deal with that. I shrug. Oh well, I’ll think of it later.

“By the way, do you have your own amp?”

Ah. I pause, intentionally, before admitting. “Uh, no, sorry.”

Mao stares at me, somewhat annoyed. “…okay, we’ll find a mini amp somewhere in there.”

…Shoot.

I’ll file that under my “to get and carry back here” list for this summer vacation.

We make our way to the first floor, and enter the hallway. A couple of hours earlier it was bustling with activity as other clubs were working on their projects and stalls for the festival. Now, it is by and large quiet, populated by only the few who remained to work a little longer. The rest I assume have either gone home, or gone downtown to get dinner - not unlike Shouhei’s plan. I and Mao walk past whoever were shuttling through - I nod as we pass by them and they nod in kind - and we reach the music hall doors. I step ahead to open it for us.

The hall is largely empty, with only three students remaining. While the other two are at the back of the hall tending to their businesses, the third however stands out like a sore thumb. Quite literally even; as tanned as one of my farmer cousins from Gifu, even as she is sitting on one of those stools she towers over everyone else. Her dark brown hair is tied up into a ponytail behind her head as she wipes a piece of cloth around the neck of the evidently red guitar Mao just mentioned.

I look at Mao. She seems much less enthused about the plan now, as if she is not looking forward to asking this titan of a girl. With quiet determination she steps forward to the tall girl, “Kaori.”

She seems to barely respond, caressing the guitar as a jeweler would handle a fragile fragment of shattered ruby. Her reply is barely a whisper. “What is it.”

“Where is Saki?”

Kaori looks up at her. “At the courtyard. More importantly, however,” she continues, her tone growing harsher with every word, as she stands up and turns to place the guitar gently on the table-mounted guitar stand. “Why was Ryou’s guitar sitting at the front of the hall when I came back?” She turns to Mao, wearing a vicious glare as her hands ball up into fists. “Has someone been playing around with it. I thought I told you to take care of it while I was outside helping with the construction crew.”

Seemingly not intimidated as she stands up straighter in response, Mao answers bluntly. “I gave it to this person behind me for a tryout.”

What?

Kaori screams.

I take a step back as the other two in the hall turn to her. What the hell?! Why did she just shriek like that?! Kaori reaches forward to tackle me but Mao stands in her way, stopping her. Instead of pushing her aside she grips on Mao’s shoulder, and she winces. “Why, in hell’s name,” Kaori seethes, raising her voice until she’s screaming in Mao’s ear, “did you just HAND IT OVER, TO A COMPLETE NOBODY?!”

Mao tries to pry her fingers off her shoulders to no avail. “He offered to fill in the position I was looking for,” she replies, her bluntness wavering as if she’s gritting her teeth. “I just wanted to see if he could play it for the performance.”

Kaori snaps at me, the fury in her eyes unbridled. The short instant she vicious scowl lands on me is enough to make me regret coming here, somewhat. But she’s not shoving Mao aside. Is she tired? Mao reaches for the guitar but Kaori slaps her hand away. She jerks back, but tries again. This time Kaori stands in the way, shielding it from her. “Kaori,” Mao hisses, gritting her teeth, “just give me the damned guitar.”

Kaori directs her glare at Mao. “No. Not after you betrayed my trust and broke your promise that you’ll take care of it.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do then?” Mao sounds like she’s losing her cool. “One, there wasn’t anyone else with the guitar at the time. And two, Ryou would’ve wanted this.”

Kaori stomps her foot in protest. I can see her eyes glistening slightly. “That guitar is the last thing we have of him, Mao! DON’T JUST GIVE IT TO ANY RANDOM PERSON THAT ASKS FOR IT!”

“I mean,” I blurt out to correct her, and immediately realize this is just going to get me punished for no fault of my own. Ah hell, I’m here already. “I didn’t ask for it. I was given that guitar. Hell, I didn’t even know you! This is the first time we meet!”

Mao points her at me. “I was the one who gave it to him, don’t get him involved.”

Kaori’s eyes flit between her, and me, back and forth before she closes them and ruffles through her hair and scratch her head intensely, frustrated. “ARGH! JUST GET OUT!”

“Not without that guitar, Kaori!” Mao snaps back.

“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO IT?!”

“BECAUSE RYOU MATTERS TO ME AS MUCH AS YOU, IDIOT!” Mao yells back.

“STOP IT BOTH OF YOU!”

Out of nowhere the double doors slam open and a girl with glasses burst in. “YOU TWO, STOP IT!” she shouts at the two of them. I take a step back to not get in the way.

Kaori and Mao look at her. “Umi. What are you doing here?” Kaori asks, their altercation interrupted and with it any emotional baggage lost, now that there’s someone else in the room.

“I - we - we heard you scream earlier and I KNEW that’s NOT GOOD. What’s going on?!”

Kaori points accusingly at both me and Mao. “These idiots here tried to take Ryou’s guitar!”

Mao stiffens, indignant. “I did what I HAVE TO DO! IT’S OUR PERFORMANCE, NOT YOURS!”

Kaori shoves Mao on her shoulder. “AS IF I CARE! THE GUITAR IS--”

“ENOUGH!” Umi stomps ahead and pushes both of them away from each other, keeping them at arms’ length. I step aside so as to not collide with Mao. “Enough, both of you!”

In the middle of all this I am left behind here, in an awkward spot. What the hell have I gotten myself into. “Kaori,” Umi chides, “control yourself. We only got three days left of practice and Ikumi would really appreciate some help over in the rehearsal hall.” She turns to Mao. “And Mao, you too. You know how religiously she takes care of that guitar.”

Mao stares back, adamant with her decisions, but she decides against continuing the argument. Kaori too seems exhausted to keep up as she grabs for the stool to sit down. “Alright, you two good now?” Umi asks, “Cuz I just sent Sara to go look for Saki in case I couldn’t stop you two.”

The two former opponents stare at each other, and then at Mao, wide-eyed. “Oh no,” both of them whisper, alarmed, before rushing out of the hall, dragging Umi with them before she could protest.

I watch as they leave me and the other two unnamed students at the back alone in the music hall. The two of them and I stare at each other awkwardly, unsure on what to make of the scene that just unfolded as the chaos vanished as quickly as they came. After a moment, I pipe up. “Uh, you two know where the maintenance stuff is?”

One of them points at the door behind the teacher’s desk. I nod my thanks and excuse my way in.

----------

I thanked the other two in the music hall and steps out with the maintenance equipment bag shoved in my book bag. Now what? There’s not a sign of those three, and I’m not sure whether Mao would want me to stay so she’d know where I am. I have no idea where they went in their search to intercept Saki. Just as I was thinking of heading to the gate to find Shouhei, I hear the side door slam open, and Mao turning around the corner, her heavy footfalls clearly indicating that she’s furious about something. On her back is a black guitar case.

“Oh Mao, what--” I want to ask, but Mao comes up to me and shoves the guitar case onto me before dragging me along with the other hand. I fumble to hoist it over my shoulder and bemusedly follow along down the hall, towards the entrance lobby. Instead of answering me, Mao asks, her voice barely keeping the lid on some pent-up anger.

“Found it?”

I pat my book bag under my arm. “Yeah.” I hold off from continuing. She’s not making it obvious, but I can hear the low rumbling noise she’s making. I’m not sure if I should point it out, but at the very least she does not seem to want to share what happened either.

As we keep walking, her pace slows down, allowing my sore arm a reprieve and lets me take a breather. “…Hisao,” she speaks up.

I stiffen at her saying my name like that. I really shouldn’t have made it obvious that was my weakness. “Y-yes?” I ask, turning to her. She seems perplexed, as if she’s angry and somewhat guilty at the same time. Is she not angry at me? Or is she expecting me to react differently?

Mao sighs. “Keep an eye out for Kaori.”

I purse my lips. “...why?”

She seems to hesitate. “I … have a feeling she doesn’t like you.”

I knew it. I’m trying to not think of what happened back there, and she’s not helping. I’m already uncertain about even sticking around here any longer, let alone staying in the music club after the festival, for Shouhei or not, that not only does one of them know how to skillfully control me, another one hates my guts. And with how she sticks around down there and immediately hurry with Kaori to stop Saki from raising the alarm, both are likely influential in the club too if they are concerned that much with the opinions and decisions of Saki, the club president.

Seriously. The only positive here is Saki, and maybe Rika and Umi, but I know too little of the latter to make any judgment, and Saki feels like she’d stick her nose in my issues, where it does not belong. There is of course Shouhei, but I can hang out with my arguably only friend here outside of the club like his friends. A part of me is considering making my points and thoughts clear to this person standing now in charge of me, but the other half is arguing a valid point: don’t argue with authorities.

I catch her glancing at me. Oh screw it. “…oh yeah?” I reply, raising an eyebrow as I plant my feet in place. She stops as well.

Mao looks at me. “…okay,” she says, turning away now as if realizing she did something wrong. Oh she did alright; she knew that guitar was Kaori’s and she got me involved anyway. “Look, this isn’t the best welcoming party, I know, and Kaori’s dogmatism and insistence against practicality, I can guess, does you little favor.”

I stand up straight, and nod. She frowns, and keeps her gaze averted. “…yeah, actually.” I say out loud. This is bullshit. Here I am joining the music club completely voluntarily, after judging that it can be beneficial for both me and Shouhei’s band, but that chaos back there is a giant tirade of signs telling me to reconsider.

She purses her lips, before sighing again. What’s up with that. “I’ll tell you this,” she replies, taking a more solid tone, “she may seem fierce, and she may not like you, but she appreciates passion. Given that we’re not acquainted, I can’t yet ascertain whether you’re passionate about music--”

I nod, not completely because I agree, no. Enough is enough. The only reason I am even here is that this is all I know, and I figure the best way to start rebuilding my life is to start with what I’m familiar with. If she’s looking for passion, she’ll find it some day, but I don’t feel obliged to demonstrate whenever she pops in. If she uses her influence over Saki to force me out after the festival, so be it. I’ll just go back to Tokyo, get my guitar, and come back here to play for myself, by myself. Mao seems surprised to see me nod, as I break from my thoughts.

Did she figure it out? Am I showing something on my face again? I hope so, this time around.

She takes a moment to continue. “…well. All I can say is,” the bespectacled girl says, slightly uncertain, “give her time to adapt. She and Ryou were close once, and where you stand right now is where he once stood. Give her time.”

Mao turns around to continue, pulling me along, and I follow, with my thoughts behind me. Well, she did not get it, but her revelation struck a chord. That is true; I can empathize with that, somewhat. It’s a reasonable reaction, I would imagine: she lost someone she held dear, and all of sudden, a replacement, a pretender, popped up to take that person’s place. And worst of all, in her eyes that pretender attempted to seize the throne - Ryou’s guitar.

Sounds like something out of one of the classic soap opera dramas. Not sure why I’m living it, though. I don’t recall signing up.

We enter the entrance lobby. I feel the weight of the guitar on my back, wondering whose else did they take out of storage and handed it to me, just to give me a place in the band. With that, all of sudden my determination to keep marching forward on familiar grounds paints me as the bad guy.

And once again, I am back in square one.

Noticing my silence, Mao continues. “In the meantime,” she speaks up, her voice echoing somewhat in the soaring hall that is the entrance lobby, its increasingly empty halls lit by the evening light shining through tall windows. “Practice with that guitar, alright? I know it’s a tall order, but try to convince her you’re your own person, and not someone trying to usurp Ryou’s place.”

Mao does not know when to stop, does she. I know she cares, too, but my silence should have said something. I shift the guitar case to my other shoulder to alleviate the annoying soreness. I don’t even know what kind of guitar they just pulled out of storage, but if this is my lot, so be it, I’ll adapt.

“Oh?”

She suddenly comes to a halt, nearly crashing me into her as I was casting glances at the guitar case on my back. Sidestepping I turn to the gates, where she’s staring at; alongside Shouhei by the gates as he waves at us coming down the stairs to approach, is a familiar face.

Tsubaki.

She has changed her outfit in between when I last saw her and now; instead of a closed blazer like earlier in the afternoon, she’s now wearing a hooded sweater underneath her now open blazer, and her hair is now tied into a ponytail. As we notice each other, a part of me is saying I should heed Mao’s advice about practicing with the guitar, but in the privacy of my dorm room instead, but as we come close, I have a feeling she’ll pull me if I try to make a run for it.

“Hey~,” Shouhei speaks up, still jovial as I last saw him earlier, “you’re finally here! Heard a banshee scream earlier, that wasn’t trouble, was it?”

Mao waves him off. “Just Kaori. Anyhow, Tsubaki,” she turns to the girl, surprising her, “you’re coming along?”

Her question breaks her out of a daze. She seems to remember the awkward moment earlier afternoon after the run-in with Emi, as well as my faux pas crossing the line asking her something I shouldn’t have, and like me, she’s uncertain how to take my presence. I have to admit, the feeling is mutual. “Oh, uh,” she stutters, “yeah. Shouhei asked me of I wanna come along, and I honestly don’t mind. I think.”

Mao looks at her, puzzled, but waves it off as she leads us to the gate. “…alright, I don’t mind either. It’s getting late; we should get this done before curfew.”

“Right!” Shouhei exclaims in agreement.

The three of them walk on forward, following their leader. The look on her face as she noticed me gave me second thoughts. Perhaps I should go along, not only with the benefit of getting to know these two better, but also, I should do something positive today. My admission to the music club as it stands does not count. Here though, I can clarify things, and do something right for once.

Enough unknown factors; that spelled the end of my time back in Yokohama, that I know. I should learn something, and making up with Tsubaki can be a good place to start. Another friend won’t hurt … right?

(Translated by Google Translate)

Regards. First of all, I must say that I love your story, and I've been following it since day 1, but I didn't comment until now because I had lost access to my account (wasn't able to recover the password, and it wouldn't let me create new ones, for some reason ). I'm not going to weigh in on the grammar/spelling because I'm not fluent in English, so please take my comment with a grain of salt (and hopefully someone more qualified weighs in later).

The chapter was quite good, a small taste of what I imagine Hisao will face now that he is a member of the club and the friction that exists between the members, especially Mao who would be the Shizune of this group. With Kaori, I understand how attached she is to that guitar, it reminds me a lot of a fanfic I'm also writing where the MC is also attached to that instrument, being the last solid memory of someone she lost. Hopefully you can soften her up a bit in the long run and accept Hisao as a worthy successor to her, because it would be a bit maddening to see her grumble every time Hisao plays the guitar.

As for the narration, as always it's good, you express yourself very naturally, although if I had to change something, could you reduce Hisao's 'inner voice' a bit, and focus more on what is happening? Although I don't complain much about it either because I have a similar situation (and it's still hard for me to change).

Another detail is the addition of another new character to the list that you already manage: I saw in other comments that you already have many and that possibly makes it difficult to give relevance to everyone, especially Ritsu who, in theory, is the co-star, and until now I see her very missing. If I had to choose, I would give more weight to Ritsu, Chihiro and Tsubaki: the first for obvious reasons, Chihiro because there could be interesting interests with someone who is Hisao's countrywoman, and Tsubaki because of her strength of character. Mao is fine with the weight you give her, and Kaori could serve as an "antagonist" until Hisao shows what she's capable of.

In the end, that's all. I hope you finish this story, and if you don't, don't stop writing other things. Much success.

MrMadrid wrote: ↑Thu Feb 02, 2023 5:28 pm With Kaori, I understand how attached she is to that guitar, it reminds me a lot of a fanfic I'm also writing where the MC is also attached to that instrument, being the last solid memory of someone she lost. Hopefully you can soften her up a bit in the long run and accept Hisao as a worthy successor to her, because it would be a bit maddening to see her grumble every time Hisao plays the guitar.

[...]

Kaori could serve as an "antagonist" until Hisao shows what she's capable of.

Hello there. I know it's not my story, but I have something to say about what you said. We, me and Tal, are writing jointly both SD and LoaOH. By writing jointly, I say that we are sharing the same lore, we share ideas about our stories, stuff like that. This character you're talking about is the MC of my main fic. She's like that with him because of her relationship with the right owner of that instrument. She's not supposed to be an antagonist, but, yes, she won't make his life easy. We came with a lot of ideas, for both our stories, and I hope you'll like the following chapters. But don't expect her to be nice for a looooooooooooooooong time, at least with him. But your take was interesting, to be honest, and, I can't speak for Tal for now, but I think I can say we both thank you.

Got around to reading this in between writing, editing, reading other fics, thinking about others, and all the other things I'm distracting myself with and I've got to say, Tal, this is pretty damn good so far. As is my nature, I'm probably going to ramble here and there will be very little structure, so take this more as a "reader's thoughts" rather than a review.

First, the good:

This story just makes everything feel so alive. From the characters, to the atmosphere, to the events taking place. Everything just comes together to paint a picture of a living, breathing Yamaku academy in a way that works really well. Sometimes I feel like stories will go a little too out of their way to express their character's "quirks" as it were, but in this story they fit in naturally to what's going on really well; very much so in a similar way to good slice of life and adjacent anime are able to accomplish. It's clear all the work you've put into forming the dynamics of everyone's relationships, backgrounds, interactions, motivations, etc. has gone to good work in applying it to the story. I also agree with previous comments saying that the prologue was really strong and captivating. It paints Hisao as much more bitter and angry with the events going on around him than the VN displays, and the inner-conflict Hisao gains as a result is played off as realistic and understandable. The conflict is gut-wrenching to read, because it feels like something relatable, and it hurts to see it play out this way even though you know it should. The indecision, frustration, anger, regret, guilt, apathy, and everything else Hisao is going through is presented interestingly and treated with respect.

I feel like Hisao is about to reach another tipping point in his personal growth here that is completely necessary. He needs to stand on his own two feet and do something well and truly meant for the complete benefit of himself in spite of himself, if that makes sense. He's lost a lot of control in his life, so until he takes back some level of control he is going to keep falling down this spiral of self-pity, despair, bitterness, and anger until it eats him alive. And I don't think He'll be able to do it completely alone. He has very little confidence in himself because he doesn't feel seen. He feels alone, which is where I believe Ritsu is going to come into play. Seemingly in her own spiral, and probably further along than Hisao, she is going to need someone to give her a certain type of hope she has long lost. The two of them are broken, but maybe just the right inspiration coming at just the right time from each-other will hope both of them begin taking steps forward in their lives. A little bit on their own, a little-bit with each-other.

I also like the divergences from the original Act 1. Hisao is acting very differently from in the VN so of course Shizune would pick up on the disinterest he has in, well, most things and adjust her battle plan accordingly. He doesn't need to be pulled towards something, he needs to be pushed, but in just the right way. A challenge she'd take up in a heartbeat. Emi's run-in with Hisao is also a nice reference/addition. It makes sense something like that would still happen given the nature of Emi and it makes sense that Hisao is with a whole new group given that so much else has already changed.

Speaking of changes, I love the other male presence in the story thus far. Something sorely lacking from the VN. Though the reserved nature of Yamaku males is preserved, it's naturally woven in that Hisao would gravitate towards a certain few, even by chance. And they are fun and fleshed out personalities as well, not the more common aggressive by nature male presence I see all too often. (I see 2 types of males common-place in other stories. The lovable idiot, and the asshole. The few exceptions from these categories are welcome, and every one of your non-Kenji characters fits in this category thus far) I also enjoy the inclusion of Saki and her place in the story feels natural and welcome. Rika's presence is a welcome one as well, though it was a little let natural in the sense that I didn't expect to see her in the music club, but her cheerful demeanor makes up for it.

I could ramble on a bit longer about the minutiae of the previously listed point, but for now I think that covers it, which means...
The bad:
I mention earlier that I loved how alive the personalities feel and that holds true, but they occasionally do breach "over-the-top" just a hair. Stand-out moments for me were Hisao moving to punch a doctor, the siren scream reaction, and least offensively the bickering match happening during Hisao's first lunch with Shouhei's friend group. But this is only a small issue because as I said earlier, it all still feels well-worked into the story. It's not like they come out of nowhere. They're personalities and character certainly feel alive, but in cases like that they are a little too "loud."

I also agree that the first few scenes were a little too close to the original Vn's, but there was enough changes in the detail to make them worthwhile still. That being said some of those changes play into the next and final issue I ran into

Hisao's loud headspace. I can't gripe on this one too much, but we do spend A LOT of time in Hisao's head during these scenes. Sometimes the conversation is a sentence or two spliced in between a couple paragraphs of Hisao spiraling, after we've just had an entire section of that very thing happening still. That being said, it can be thematically fitting as well. Hisao is too deep in his head right now in the story, so in a way it works.

Overall, I'm excited to see where this story goes and seeing as Act 1 seems to be coming towards its end (assuming festival is still the end of act 1), I'll be here ready to read what comes next. I'm eager to see how Ritsu and Hisao come together in the coming scenes as the tension seems to be building in the background rather quickly, all it needs is a spark to set them off. That said, focus on your health and write when it feels best to do so Tal! See you (probably on discord) but also in scene 12!

I'm back! I'm back.

It's been a couple of few months, and boy, a lot of things changed. I graduated! Bachelor's Degree in Biotech. One step forward to my life mission. However, that came with a couple of misfortunes: job hunting has been a major nuisance, and I may have to move out of my rented home and to my parents due to that. University bureaucracy has been a major asshole in giving me the credentials I needed just because I graduated a semester early, so here I am, bogged down between finances and my family also moving elsewhere.

Sometimes I think there is a karmic balance, and every win I get, there's a loss waiting around the corner. The other way around rarely follows through though.

Anyhow, welcome, Madrid! And we've talked a lot at this point, Wolf. Yeah, the "Hisao Headspace Syndrome" is a major issue and I promise you, in the drafts that I have, what with the increasing number of casts running around he's gonna be too busy playing catch to think another self-deprecating thought to himself. That's one of their major roles, yeah - to keep him so busy dealing with their activities that he won't have time for himself. Almost as if it's planned, for some reason.

...remind me to not do intros to chapters at 1 in the morning. I wish I can be more wordy, worthy of a reply to your time taken to read my work, but brain isn't working.

ANYHOO~! Mighty thanks to NuclearStudent, Moog, and Razor, this time around, for helping me proofread this.

Scene 12: Downtown Dinnertime

I watch as the three of them saunter onward and I lag behind. A hand rubs the back of my neck, and I take a deep breath. All right, here goes nothing; I hurry past Shouhei, who has been merrily watching other fellow students amble down the road. With hastened steps I quickly arrive at Tsubaki's side, and tap on her shoulder for good measure. “Eh?” she blurts out and turns to face me. “Ah!”

“Yeah it’s me,” I say, turning to look forward, glancing at her every now and then. “You forgot me already?” I’m trying to not seem stiff, but I think she sees right through me as the first thing she does is grin.

“No! No I’m not,” the girl laughs. “So, what’s up?”

Just as I am about to continue, I notice Mao leaning forward to peer around Tsubaki and look at the two of us with cursory glances, as if she’s trying to eavesdrop on our conversation. A part of me wants to tell her to go away, because the last thing I need is her using my hang-up with Tsubaki for her own use again. But here is Tsubaki waiting for me to continue, her eyes flitting between glancing at me and keeping her slightly bouncing steps on track with the asphalt. I frown and then sigh.

Okay, thanks to a certain somebody here this will have to be done at a later date, asI am absolutely not letting her have another hook on me. I open my mouth, only for the should-be-accused to speak up. “You two know each other already?”

“Hm?” Tsubaki turns to her, pushing a strand of hair from her eyes. “Yeah, we know each other. Thanks to that guy over there,” she answers with a smile and a finger pointing through me. I turn to see Shouhei grinning sheepishly as he wedges himself between us two.

“He brought me along to join their lunch group, with Taichi and Chihiro,” I add, “if you know those two.”

The bespectacled girl shrugs, barely deigning me a glance. Her aloof act is starting to piss me off. “I’m aware,” she answers simply. “We’re in the same class.”

I don’t bother with a response, which lets Shouhei step in to speak up. “Yeah, all three of us are 3-4!” He pauses, chuckles to himself, and prods my shoulder. “What’s up with that? You don’t really like 3-3?”

Like you’re one to ask. “I …” I pause. To be frank, I know very little of my own classmates so I don’t think it’s fair for me to make a conclusive impression. Hell, I don’t know most of their names,and the fact I just came here two days ago does not help either. The only ones I know are the dynamic duo,the one-handed girl Tsubaki mentioned a while earlier - who was her? Michi-something? - and Ritsu. Anyhow, the inseparable Student Council duo are enthusiastic, but thanks to a certain snitch - I glance at Shouhei here - I know that through those innocent eyes of theirs, they have ulterior motives. The latter does not speak all that often, but through the minimal interactions we have had, we seem to get along. “…maybe,” my words falter. “I don’t know; it’s bad to talk bad about others, especially when I don’t know them at all.”

He laughs, and puts an arm over my shoulders as he places his upper weight on my back. “I’ll introduce you to Taro later, alright?”

“...and who’s that?”

He looks positively shocked at me as he lets me go. “The guy sitting behind you in class?” Shouhei points out, slightly bewildered.

“Ah.” Well, that one’s on me.

“But yeah! Not saying you shouldn’t hang out with us though!”

Okay, enough meandering. “Speaking of that,” I interject as I turn to my quarry. “Tsubaki, I …” Come on, where’s the excuse? “I’ll have to turn down the offer.”

“Hm?” She looks at me as if I’m asking about some physics homework she completely forgot, clueless smile included. “Offer?”

I shrug. “The Astronomy Club offer.”

She pauses, her eyes up to the sky as she digs through her memories before her face lights up. “AH! No, it’s fine, it’s fine! In fact,” she tries to assure me as she bows her head before looking back at me with a nod. “I’m kinda glad you chose to join Mao’s band instead.”

I turn to her. What? Why would she be happy?”

She notices my surprise and starts stuttering again. “N-no, it’s not like, … well--”

“She has been helping us look for someone to be our lead guitarist,” Mao answers for her, astringent as usual.

“Oh.” I frown. Now it makes sense. I remember her being insistent on wanting to know more about my hobby with guitars back then. “So that’s why you wanted to check my fingers.”

Mao looks at Tsubaki, wearing a mixture of bemusement and a slight hint of judgment. Tsubaki, flanked by two people staring at her, starts flustering as Shouhei laughs behind us. “I - no, I wasn’t insisting,” she stammers out, obviously unfamiliar with the fact that her choice of action then now paints her as a deviant of some sort. To be completely honest, if I’m looking for a guitarist I won’t ask to inspect random people’s fingers and ask if they have experience with the instrument. “I was just certain you play it pretty often, that’s all!”

Mao stays silent. I maintain my frown, trying my best to not break out a grin watching this girl digs herself deeper. I have to admit, even though I feel a bit guilty making her go through this, it is fun to watch. Her attempt at reading fingers back then was also an awkward moment for me too so, payback. Eventually she snaps. “Mao you meanie! I’m only trying to help!” she protests, shaking her friend back and forth to get back at her. Mao in turn does not seem rattled the slightest, as if deliberately ignoring her friend to tease her.

I feel Shouhei’s hand on my other shoulder, and turn to see him holding on to Mao’s own free shoulder before he jumps, forcing us to compensate for the sudden increase in weight. “Now now!” he chides as he lands, “it’s all well and done, cuz we got Hisao now!”

Thanks for the subject change, Shou. I chuckle, yet his concluding statement however reminds me of Mrs. Sakamoto’s proposal. Knowing the fact that I agreed to it and the very reason I’m here does not sit right with me. I notice Mao glancing at me, and gives a minuscule shake of her head. “Don’t tell them yet,” she seems to be implying. As if I need your opinion; I’ll decide.

“Tch.” I was hoping that Tsubaki and Mao aren’t anything more than acquaintances, but it seems that I am wrong on that . In retrospect, I should have expected this to happen. Regardless, it seems that both of them are friends. Is Tsubaki aware of Mao’s plan to use me? From how she’s chattering away at her friend and was not given any response in turn, it feels like Tsubaki is also kept in the dark about this. However, I cannot be sure. A glance at Shouhei as he tries to interject himself into the girls’ conversation paints him in a similar light.

I just cannot be sure. Mao herself later stepped in to take some of the verbal assault. However, she knew the guitar belonged to Kaori in the first place, and the latter entrusted it to her to keep it safe while she’s busy elsewhere. In that time, she told me to use it for my impromptu audition despite knowing it would implicate me in Kaori’s reprisal, as well as sending me alone to retrieve the guitar before she changed her mind. All of this paints an either careless - which does not sound like her, judging by how strict she is with Shouhei - or malicious light around her in my mind.

To be completely honest, what would I do in her situation?

I suppose I would act similarly, but I’d step in to not make the prospective member a meat shield.

If Mai ended up indisposed before a big performance, I would have personally asked every other music club member if they want to volunteer to sing in her place. But the last thing I would want is a degree of mistrust between band crews at such a precarious timing.


Incoming life-threatening predicaments aside, personally I don't see any reason to threaten an already fragile fledgling sense of trust between strangers. However, that is just my personal opinion. I don't know her sense of morals, or the extent she would go to ensure that this mission of hers will be fulfilled.

“Now!” Shou exclaim, pulling me out of my thoughts. “All we need is a drummer!”

All three of us collectively deflate, and Mao audibly groans. Right. We still don’t have one of those. The three of us cast annoyed stares at him, though I think all of us know that our performance is not going anywhere without a drummer forming the backbone. “Uh,” he stammers, “shoot.”

“You just had to remind us, don’t you,” Mao gripes, irritated.

“Shou~, why~~~?” Tsubaki whines.

“I mean,” I speak up, wanting to be a positive voice for once. “We still have a couple of days.”

“Boo~,” she pouts. “Yeah but three days though; there’s no way we can get anyone up to speed for the band’s songs in just three days.”

I point at myself. “…me?”

Her eyes widen and blinks rapidly as she tries to look anywhere but me. “I-I uh, I’m sure you can handle it!” she tries to assure me.

I chuckle and wave it off. “I’ll … try my best,” I say. Tsubaki deflates a bit more as Mao gives her a light tap on her head with the side of her hand.

To be honest, she’s right. Three days.

Tsubaki brings her shoulders forward and pouts harder before reaching to pull Shouhei under her arm. “Both of you are meanies!” she complains as she rubs her fist into his hair, much to his protest. “We’re here to celebrate a bit, not be depressed about this! You said it yourself Shou!”

I deliberately slow myself down to fall slightly behind the group as Shouhei tries to pull himself out of the choke hold. Sorry, can’t help with that. In actuality, some people would envy your position, Shou. I sigh, looking up at the orange-blue evening sky, crisscrossed with pale white clouds.

Barring practice, a drummer, huh? Where the hell can we find one?

I turn forward. We’re nearly at the crossroads now. Shouhei manages to release himself but he’s still not free of Tsubaki as she keeps ranting at him. Mao on the other hand remains silent. Despite the cheer and optimism, albeit troubled, the other two are bringing, I still feel tense around Mao. How does she not acknowledge the fact that she got me involved in her scheme without my consent, and earned me an enemy? Yes, she tried to take some of the blame, but she knew. She knew that if I even touched that thing, Kaori will hate my guts. There’s a distinct likelihood that everyone in the music club knew that, but they wouldn’t tell me because they were afraid of her, or Mao. Either way, how could I have known?


Shouhei turns his back to Tsubaki in an attempt to shield himself as the girl lightly pummels it, annoyed, before quitting. I made one decision on my own and this is where it led me. Fuckin’ shit. I only wanted to join to help Shouhei and his band, and return myself to something I’m familiar with while I ponder how to get my life out of this mess. I did not come here looking for a fight.

Tsk. Annoying, this situation is. Perhaps I should just steer clear of the music hall for the time being.

“Hey, Earth to Hisao, you there?”

I wake up from my thoughts to see Shouhei waving his hand in front of my face. I push it down. “Yes, what is it?”

He squints, staring at me intensely before shrugging and falling to my side, finally detached himself from the girls ahead of us. “No, nothing. Actually,” he pauses, thinking, “what’re you gonna get for dinner?”

“Dinner?”


Oh right. It took me a moment to remember why we’re here to begin with. “…actually, where are we going for dinner?”

“Ah right I didn’t tell you yet.” He sticks his tongue out and plants his fist on the top of his head, cheekily owning up to his forgetfulness with a wink. “Souromoni! It’s a Korean BBQ place Mao likes, before everything went hectic.”

“Korean BBQ? Sounds expensive.”

He shrugs. “Well, it’s not like we go there every weekend. Mostly as a celebration. Our usual hang-out spots are the bandroom and the rehearsal hall in the art center.” He pauses. “Oh right, no need to worry about the bill, Mao’s paying.”

I purse my lips. “Is she uh, rich?”

He looks at me. “Not as much as Lilly over there, but she’s pretty well-off.” He grins. “Boy you don’t wanna look at her choice of restaurant. Dress codes and everything!”

I shudder. “Daughter of a billionaire, what else should I expect, eh?”

He chuckles.

Rehearsal hall, huh. “I kinda wanna see what it looks like.”

“The restaurant?”

“No.” I shake my head. “The rehearsal hall.”

We arrive at the crossroad, and come to a halt t o wait for the red man to turn green. “Why? You don’t have one back in your school?”

I shake my head again. “It’s Tokyo. Baseball is all the rave there, followed by sports. Music is put in the same batch as arts most of the time, a distant third.” I pause. “Is that where you guys mostly practice?”

Shouhei tilts his head quizzically before shaking it. “Only for, y’know, rehearsal. It’s built to mimic the auditorium next door, so you can get tuning right and all that.”

“...all of you?”

He nods. “Yeah?”

Shoot. There is no avoiding Kaori if we have to go down there. “Damn it …”

The zebra crossing’s lights switch to green, and we make our way across. “What’s up?” he asks, an eyebrow raised.

I flatten my lips. Should I tell him? Maybe a bit of it? I cast a glance at Mao ahead; she doesn’t seem to notice us to stop me. Screw it. Trust is a crucial aspect of friendship and band members and I’m not doing what Mao did to me. “Well,” I answer with a sigh. “I kinda got in trouble trying to get the guitar she told me to get.”

He looks at the guitar case on my back, and then back at me. “This one?”

I shake my head. “No, not actually. This is a replacement.” I pause. “I … assume you know Kaori, right?”

His nose twitches. “Super tall, speaks in a thick Tohoku accent when angry, really brash and loud?”

“Kinda on point actually.”

“Yeah she’s quite famous in the school. At first cuz it’s taller than everyone else, except Taichi. But then it turns out she’s a death metal nut.”

Oh God no, not those folks. “…shoot..”

Shouhei notices the worried look on my face as he starts laughing. “Nah nah, just stay out of her path and you’ll be fine!”

“That’s the thing,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I .. when I applied to join this band, Mao gave me Ryou’s guitar to test my skills. I … didn’t know it at the time but apparently it matters a lot to her and Kaori, and Kaori told her to keep it safe and untouched at the back while she’s busy elsewhere.”

His laughter falters as his eyes widen. “…that’s bad.”

“Yeah you get me?”

“That’s real bad,” he hisses through his teeth, simultaneously sighing and gritting. “Really bad. Lemme guess, that banshee screech, she found out?”

Ouch. “Y-yeah.”

“What are you two up to?”

The two of us turn forward to Tsubaki interjecting as I realize we’re neck deep in town now. Compared to yesterday there are significantly more people now. It’s crowded enough that Mao and Tsubaki were pushed back to join us two.

Ah. What did Mao hear?

“Mao, “ Shouhei speaks up, “you two ran into Kaori earlier right?”

The bespectacled girl stiffens. “Y-yes. Got into a little bit of trouble.”

“And you gave Hisao Ryou’s guitar?”

She glares at me. “What,” I say.

“...okay, look,” she says, pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. “I needed to, alright? I need to see if he can play well with that … weird set-up Ryou left behind, fine-tuned to our performance. And it turns out he can play well.”

“Yeah. Yet Kaori found out. So how are we gonna practice in the rehearsal hall then?” he snaps back.

Mao closes her eyes and turns upwards, sighing as she rubs her forehead. Tsubaki, left out of all this, pipes up and is very much confused. “W-what’s going on?”

“Kaori got angry at Hisao here,” Shouhei says out loud. He’s noticeably more irritated than I think I ever saw him. “And now we probably can’t practice at all.”

Tsubaki looks at me, then Mao, then Shouhei, then back at me. She claps her incomplete hands together with a bright smile on her face. “Okay! I’ll … try to convince her to let you guys in the hall, alright?”

“You and Kaori are on … good terms?” I ask.”

“Somewhat,” she answers, her eyes turn to a corner as she thinks on how to elaborate. “She, for some reason, took me under her wing. I’m not sure why. However I am sure that I can try to convince her though! On that note.” She leans forward and grins at me. “How good are you? It might help me to convince her that you’re a proper musician.”

Uh. “How good?”

She strums her fingers over her air guitar as she splits from Mao to join my side. “Guitar.”

“Ah.” I pause. “I have like, five years under my belt. Started off in junior high.”

“Perfect!” I notice Mao has gone ahead and disappeared into the crowd. “What about your genre? Kaori’s a big fan of death metal.”

“Uh, mostly post-rock.”

Tsubaki’s bright and confident smile turns slightly dour. “O~kay, not really her thing but I guess it can work?”

“I mean, we are playing the band’s tracklist, whatever it is, for the festival, so it’s not like I got much of an option,” I explain to her, before adding, “and no, just because I like post-rock does not mean that’s all I play.”

She pats the palm of her hand with the fist of the other, as if she just remembered something. “Ah, right. You can do it, right?”

I unzip my book bag to pull out the sheaf of papers that was titled Sunset earlier. As I flit through the pages it turns out there are four more songs. I would try to read the notes more carefully but as we keep walking I keep jostling against passersby. “M…maybe when we get there,” I say, replacing it back in my bag. The two of them nod.

Tsubaki pushes her way behind me to be between me and Shouhei. “Where are we going by the way?” she asks, easily changing the topic.

“Souromoni,” I answer.

“I thought we’re going to the Shanghai.”

Shouhei shakes his head. “This feels more appropriate for celebration, y’know? Besides, Mao’s paying.”

She ponders over that for a moment, and then nods in agreement, grinning brightly at the prospect. “Alright I can go with that~! Been a while since I had any meat!”

I fall silent to listen to the two as they keep on talking for a while. Eventually, as I slide out of their world for the time being, I decide to wade through the crowd a bit and hope to find where Mao had gone, just so we don’t split. There is a bigger crossroad ahead, complete with traffic lights. I turn around to return to them for a second. “Hey, uh, where’s this Souromoni by the way?” I ask.

Shouhei points down the street before turning his hand to his left. “Around the corner.”

I nod. “Alright. I’ll go ahead to find Mao if she’s already there or not.”

“Sure!” Tsubaki answers. I turn forward and hasten my pace to the zebra crossing, finding it already green. Sure enough, I can spy Mao waiting at the other side, wearing that same stern look on her face. As I join her, she turns to continue walking. Okay, sure, not a word of thanks. Is she angry that I blabbed about it to Shouhei?

Just ahead I can see the storefront of a restaurant, with a flock of people idling outside. At least, I think it is the restaurant; it seems to look far more Japanese than anything Korean that I’ve seen, with each kanji of the establishment’s title emblazoned on its own blue banner on the overhang above their doors. The decorative wooden exterior, the simple potted plants under the windowsills. The only giveaway that tells me it’s not the usual traditional bathhouses I frequent back home are the views through the forefront windows; I can spot small rooms, or cubicles, with people crowding around something inside. I can’t quite make it out even as we approach the entrance, and pressing my face against the glass would be weird.

Mao hastens her pace ahead of me to the entranceway. In front of the doors is a lectern and a waitress, who spots us. “Oh welcome!” she greets with a red-carpet smile, before she seems to recognize the bespectacled girl. “Ah, welcome back! Usual seat?”

Mao nods. “If possible.”

The waitress peeks behind the curtains ,calling out to a coworker by the sound of it, and turns back to us with an apologetic expression as I catch up to Mao. “Ah, sorry, it’s taken. Is somewhere else fine?”

Mao nods again. Browsing through the crowd behind me, I notice that Tsubaki and Shouhei have fallen far behind us and wave at them. Tsubaki notices me, seemingly shocked to find we were waiting, and starts pulling Shouhei by his hand just as the waitress ushers us in. Inside, the place is packed; people walking to and fro a central U-shaped counter extending from the far wall to the center of the main hall. Surrounding it are entrances to smaller corridors and external tables and chairs, where steam and smoke rises from soup pots and lit electric barbecues. The smaller corridors are lifted off the polished concrete floors by traditional wooden platforms. The central counter itself is surrounding a raised walkway, where the staff refills trays of prepared marinated beef and other dishes for the customers to pick up and prep at their own tables, I presume. There are pipes running all over the ceiling seemingly erratically, serving as a weird choice of decoration.

A pretty and expensive place. I can see why those two would like it here.

I follow Mao and the waitress as the latter leads us into one of the minor corridors, lined with simple traditional shoji doors, some closed, others open. Behind them, as she knocks on one and slides the shoji doors fully open to lead us inside, the two of us step into the cubicle as she lights up the stove built into the modified kotatsu sitting in the middle. My legs have little room left if I sit down with them extended, but the cubicle itself does feel somewhat cozy. Maybe if it's winter outside it would feel even better. Stack to the side are some of those chairs with backs but no legs. What were they called again? Oh right, zaisu. As I put my guitar case on one next to Mao’s bag in the corner, using the backrest to not let the weight of the guitar tear through the walls, Mao starts placing two others for the late duo outside.

“Alright then,” I hear Mao say. I turn to find her holding the sliding doors open as she talks to me and the now present Shouhei and Tsubaki. “I’ll be going ahead to pick up things to grill. Shouhei, you’re staying here to hold the fort until we get back.”

The boy pouts as he sits down on his chair. “Alright alright, I’ll go get mine after you guys.” The girls excuse themselves as Mao slides the door to near close. He turns to me. “Hisao, you’re not getting anything?”

Uh, okay. Uncertainly, I head back outside, and notice the two picking up their choices as I pick up a plate and scan through the options. After an awkward silence, in the end I just settle with only two small plates of black pepper chicken, and turn to return to the cubicle. Tsubaki notices and quips, “Only chicken?”

I shrug. “Not sure about the others.”

She briefly glances through the options, then at my plates, before shrugging herself and smiles. “Well, we paid for two whole hours, so feel free to get more if you want!”

“Alright, I guess,” I answer with a nod as I follow her back to our cubicle. We find Mao already putting beef strips on the grill with a pair of tongs in her hands, and Shouhei about to get his pick. As she settles down next to Mao, I sit opposite of her, keeping my plates to myself. The grill is already full and I can wait.

Now that we are sitting down and not fighting through the crowd I take out the tracklist from my book bag to give it a closer look. There are five songs in total: Sunset, Synthetic, Nighthawks, Lonely City, and The Comeback Kid. I glance at Mao, who glances at me back. These sound like pop songs from the 90s. As I read through the fretboard diagrams and tab sheets, my fingers moving back and forth as I try to play out some of these, I get interrupted by Tsubaki pulling down a corner to take a look. Stifling my surprise I ask, “Oh, uh, what is it?”

I notice Mao has already stopped fiddling with the beef strips and has pulled out a novel from her bag to start reading. Is Tsubaki bored? I loosen a finger so she can take out a sheet, but instead she sits back down. “Hisao,” she asks, curiosity in her tone, “can you, uh, play us something?”

Oh. My lips flatten as I stare at her, and the guitar besides me. I had people asking me that a lot of times outside of practice whenever Takumi dragged me along to hang out with his out-of-music-club buddies. I look briefly at the papers in my hand, before I ask back. “One of these?”

She looks at the papers before giving me a reluctant grin. “Well, those are for your performance, right, Mao?”

Mao glances at her with only her eyes and answers briefly. “Yes.”

She seems somewhat dissatisfied. Both of them are. “Well, you got anything else?” she asks.

I rack through my dusty memory shelves for things that survived the incident, but nothing comes up. “Sorry, I can’t remember much,” I answer.

She pouts. “Shou said you were in a band before you transferred here though.”

“Well.” I shrug. “It’s … a long story.”

Tsubaki seems more reluctant now, and both of us know that playing something meant for a performance before said performance for a non-band member is just spoiling the mood. She looks at me, then the papers, and starts saying, “Y-you know what, forget I--” before I step in.

“I’ll try out Sunset.” This is on you, Tsu.

“I don’t mind,” Mao speaks up, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear as she sits up straight to fiddle with the beef. She takes a glance at me, and Tsubaki. “And yes, start with that one. We’ll be playing that first.”

“I … can give it a try, maybe.” I scoot over to the guitar case and pull it out after unzipping it. The guitar’s body is oaken brown and the neck is bright white. Not my kind of colors, but, hey, beggars can’t be choosers. In a pocket outside of the guitar case there is a mini-amp. “…where can I plug this in,” I say to myself as I scan through every wall of this cubicle.

Mao notices and hands the tongs back to Tsubaki as she pulls aside her bag to reveal a wall socket. “Oh, that’ll work,” I say as I plug the amp in, and hook the cord to the guitar. Just as I position it on my lap I notice Shouhei poking his head in from behind the sliding doors. “Wait what? Hisao’s going to play something?” he exclaims, excited, “give me a moment I wanna hear this!” In the same short instant he vanishes again without waiting for an answer.

I sigh. I don’t really want to do another impromptu performance twice a day, but I’m now facing two additional and eager faces this time. Mao, as she positions the still-cooking beef strips to fit in Tsubaki’s share, remains as the steely judgemental audience. I gulp down the anxiety and keep reading through the fretboards, acting out the notes with my fingers along the way.

And sure enough, Shouhei pops in again, now with three mugs and a plate. He quickly sits down next to Tsubaki, sharing that same anticipating look. “Okay,” I pause, “here goes nothing.”

I take a moment to reread through the tabs’ early bars again, reminding myself of its tune and rhythm until it feels natural enough that I can just push through the rest from there. I hope I can emulate the flow as well as I did earlier in the afternoon. Regardless, a strum, and here I go.

These notes, they are not my usual genre, and on top of that the main tune is clearly absent. I guess that because this is meant to be played by a whole band, the backbone is played by the bassist. So as I play on, my part feels awfully incomplete. Yet, somehow, as I glance up at the three momentarily, I find Tsubaki and Shouhei wide-eyed, as if entranced, and Mao is focusing on me instead of the grill. Emboldened, I pull out one of the fretboards with the song’s lyrics notated in, and try to sing my lines out loud.

Faked our deaths
Lit a match
Closed the the door
Waited for the flash
Greyhound Station, we paid in cash
Miss Lazarus, we’re coming back

I stop singing once the chorus begins, grimacing at myself. That went a lot less well than expected, as I am suddenly aware of how atrocious my English pronunciations are, now that I hear it for myself. Damn those months of zero practice. Opting to not continue singing, I play out a couple of bars accompanying the rest of the lyrics, before faltering and eventually stopping arbitrarily at the end of a page.

Most of the songs I have played back in my days were in Japanese, which I have no issue of course. This song,or rather this entire setlist, is wholly in English. I let out a deep sigh; I’ll need practice. A lot of it.

However, the first thing I hear as I let my hands fall from the strings is, “That was great!”

I notice it was Tsubaki who said that, her eyes wide with amazement. “Hisao what the hell? And you looked like you’re gonna mess it all up!”

Shouhei quickly chimes in. “Yeah! Where did you learn how to play? That was awesome!”

“Hisao.” Mao this time, putting the tongs down on a plate. “You didn’t say you could sing.”

“I uh.” I am not used to this. Usually it’s Takumi who gets the praises, not me. I try to compose myself. “Only in Japanese,” I add. “I’m not that great at English.”

“Still,” she insists, picking up a slice of beef with her chopsticks before pointing it at me and then eating it. “And here I thought we’re not singing this performance.”

“Wait wait wait, I’m gonna sing?”

She nods, before adding. “Then again, up to you.”

Okay. I can’t refuse when you put it that way. However, is it really me you’re concerned about, or is it the performance? I stay silent as my answer.

“You’re definitely better than most though,” Tsubaki comments, plopping her own slice in her mouth as she reads through the fretboard. I didn’t notice her swiping it. “Here.” She hands me a plate of some of the grilled beef, and I nod my thanks. “I mean, yeah, the actual English-speaking guys and girls can do better, but you’re pretty good.”

“Don’t hope I can understand what they’re saying, just so you know,” I warn her. She laughs.

“But still, you’re really good at singing in English at least, man!” says Shouhei, leaning in from his position over the table.

“Y-you’re thinking too highly of me,” I try to downplay their praises. He gives me a light punch on my shoulder and an assuring grin. Look, I get it, I gotta stop putting myself down; that nearly got me quit trying to join the band to begin with. Regardless, I smile back, still uncertain on how to receive their words. Out of these three, I definitely find myself to be less awkward around Shouhei. He reminds me of Takumi in a way, especially his gung-ho attitude to things. Still, as I take my mug of tea and sip, I appreciate it.

“Shouhei,” Mao speaks up, seizing all our attention at once.She gives an inquisitive if criticizing stare at him, “Since you reminded us, have you found anyone wanting to be our drummer?”

He grimaces. Mao does not let that slide, huh. He shakes his head. “Nah, I asked around - Jun’s band, Sakiko’s, Sora’s. No one really has the availability to help us on short notice.” He scratches his head. “Even asked the juniors, but they didn’t want to.”

Mao sighs deeply. Tsubaki flits between the two of them with an uneasy look, before turning towards me. “Hisao! You know anyone?”

Why are you asking me? I just got here. I raise an eyebrow; come on, you know better than asking the new guy, right? Sure enough she chuckles awkwardly. “Y-yeah, yeah,” she admits. I shrug. “Sorry,” I add, “I don’t know anyone around here. I only know you guys …” I start counting on my fingers. “…Taichi, Chihiro, Ritsu, and the Student Council duo, Shizune and Misha. That’s about it.”

Tsubaki slides against the wall and stares up at the ceiling. Mao glances at her as she tends to the sizzling chicken strips on the grill. I wonder what motivates her to commit so much in Mao’s band; she’s not even in the music club. How long have they been friends? “Well,” she sighs, “not much can be done.”

For a moment we are all silent. A part of me is glad that they stopped praising me, because I’m not used to that. Yet, even though I was implicated in Mao’s … manipulation, seeing the other two so defeated reminds me why I’m here. I have no idea where to start though. Should I ask them who they’ve asked so I can take care of the remainder of the student body? But, I don’t know who anyone is, and we don’t have name tags. Tsubaki fixes her posture and sits up normally so her drink won’t spill as she takes a sip. As she drinks though, she furrows her brows, before putting it down to look at me again. “Wait a second,” she says, “repeat what you just said.”

“Hm? Me?” I ask.

She nods. “People you know.”

“Uh.” I start counting with my fingers again. “Shizune, Misha, Ritsu--”

“Ritsu?”

Shouhei looks up from his food, alert. What’s going on? “Yeah?” I ask. “She’s a girl in my class. Sits behind Misha. I met her yesterday at a convenience store. We went back to school together.”

She waves it off. “Yes yes, I know. You mean, Ritsu Tainaka?”

Shouhei’s eyes flit to Tsubaki, then me. “The … Thorn Princess actually talked to you?”

Tsubaki gives him an incredulous look.

“Okay what is up with you two?” I ask firmly. Is Ritsu some kind of bad guy in this school? “Also what’s with that nickname?”

Tsubaki takes a deep breath. “Y’know, Hisao,” she speaks up, her attempt to make a stern, taut voice sounds weird compared to how she has been today. “You always keep showing more and more of these new surprising facts about yourself. What else’s in there, lemme see!” She starts reaching over to grab at my bag. I quickly shove it out of the way into a corner with my foot.

“H-hey, Tsu! Your accent’s leaking!” Shouhei exclaims as he tries to get her to sit back down.

“Hey hey, calm down!” I warn her. Is she angry? Frustrated? “What’s going on, that’s what I’m asking.”

She takes a moment to sit down, harrumphs, and pouts, balking at being denied my bag. “You and your surprises, Hisao, y’know. Cuz whenever we tried talkin’ to her, she always shuts up and act as if we’re never there.”

Oh? “I … I don’t think I did anything special,” I say. “It was awkward at first, because I found her there when we were both getting the same instant lunch pack. But after that, I just, you know, introduce myself.”

It is less clear with Mao, but I can see that all three of them don’t believe me. “Honest!” I add. “I just thought she’s usually quiet, that’s all. So I just said what’s needed, offered a chocolate, and we walked back. Never heard her speak in class.” She even introduces herself, but I can tell these guys can postulate that already.

Tsubaki looks like she was about to say something when Mao steps in with her usual monotone. “Hisao,” she says firmly, “ask her tomorrow if she can drum.”

“Me? I mean, sure, I was thinking of finding her again, but …”

Tsubaki flashes a confident smile, attempting to reassure me that I can do it again. I don’t think I need it. “I’m sure you can do it! You got her attention somehow, and none of us ever could.”

“Okay okay, hold on.” I raise a hand to stop them for a moment. “First off …” My words falter as thoughts flow in. What did she do to earn that nickname? What is it with her that either scared them straight or constantly provoke her? I know I saw her blowing a gasket once, but that was an honestly understandable reaction, and she did not even aim for anyone in general; she just put her tray on another person’s table, and storms off. From these three’s reactions that she even spoke with me, the sheer unexpectedness of it, it’s as if she’s some sort of juvenile.

I want to ask. I want to know more. But, if I ask them and not her, that feels somewhat invasive. She has her reasons, I have mine, this we know. She may not have said it to me, but from the glances I got from her yesterday, it’s a bilateral agreement.

I don’t know. I sit upright, and finish my tea. The three of them are still staring at me, expecting my participation in this hunt for a drummer. Under pressure, I finally nod. “…alright, fine. I’ll go ask.”

“Yay!” Tsubaki cheers.

“Thanks Hisao,” Shouhei says.

Mao simply nods.

I don’t feel right. On the grand scale of things hoping she’s not aware of the greater context that is the dilemma in Mao’s band, I’m sure asking her if she drums won’t make anything more difficult. Yet a part of me doesn't like how this is sounding. I want to ask. Just one thing. I don’t like that nickname. “Tsubaki.”

“Hm?” She looks at me from the side as she sips on her mug. She puts it down. “What is it?”

I pause. “This is probably invading her privacy, but, do you know why Ritsu is known as the Thorn Princess?”

“Ah, that,” Shouhei chimes in with a forkful of chicken in his mouth. “I heard it from my senior Koizumi when he came back for a bit to grab his stuff. Something about … her being aggressive whenever people insist on trying to talk with her?”

I never got that feeling when we talked yesterday. I guess, like minds feel similar and I recognized the boundary real quick. Tsubaki nods. “Mao-chan, do you know why?”

Mao shakes her head. “Rumors aside - and what Koizumi was entirely that, rumors - nothing that I’m aware of that is concrete. Saki mentioned that Ritsu was on the Student Council’s list of students that need additional help, but other than that, I don’t know why she’s quick to dismiss people.” She points at my plate of still uncooked teriyaki chicken. “You want those next?”

“Oh sure,” I hand it over to her as she lays them on the grill. “But still, I get why you think it’s weird that she talked with me, but that’s just it, I introduced myself to her, she was reluctant for a bit, but then she introduced herself as well.”

Tsubaki tents her forearm on the table, her hands folded under her chin as she gives it a thought. “I mean, I don’t like the rumors either. I’m sure Ritsu is someone nice, but … she was a mid-year transfer too, wasn’t she?”

Mao nods. “Yes. She’s probably facing problems of her own.”

Tsubaki frowns. “And she didn’t ask any of you in your class back then?”

She shakes her head.

“That’s just …”

Mao picks some of the overcooked beef strips onto her plate. “I’m sure she has her reasons.”

I watch them talk about this among themselves as I pick my clean plate and take some of the cooked chicken on the common tray. Shouhei stands up to leave with his mug, probably to get a refill. At first I thought of her as a kindred spirit, going out of our way to get a breath of fresh air. She appreciated the silence we had on our walk home, and I do too. And to hear she is also a mid-year transfer like me all the more assures that there are indeed things we have in common. However, what Mao said is true. A school transfer in the middle of the year, in normal circumstances in any old everyday normal school is usually accompanied by something serious, grievous even. A funeral. Moving elsewhere. Bully issues. When I consider the possible circumstances in a school for the disabled to be the destination of a school transfer, I realize it can get a degree that is beyond me.

Rather, it can get to a degree that is as bad as mine,or worse. I had a heart attack, the culmination of a lifelong invisible disorder that peaked when Iwanako confessed to me, causing me to tense up out of anxiety. I remember Ritsu’s wrist braces. They are bulky, black things covered in fabric and hard plastic, and with the difficulty she had trying to open that packet of chocolate, I would not be surprised if it has a metal frame inside. What happened to her that those cages on her hands are necessary for her life, for over a year?

I take the tongs and pick out my chicken strips from the grill. Now I am concerned about her too. But like Mao said, she has her reasons to not talk about her issues with others, to not seek help from Yamaku and its community. And seeing the many figures here, altruistic or otherwise, from my perspective as a newcomer to the world of the disabled, I can understand that.

But then, one question remains. Why me?

Shouhei slides the shoji doors open before sitting back down, closing it behind him. In his hands are two other mugs. “Here,” he says as he gives me one of them. It’s cold.

I nod my thanks.

“...maybe she worked herself out of her selective mutism?” I hear Tsubaki asking her bespectacled friend.

“Maybe.”

“Mutism now?” I speak up, an eyebrow raised.

Tsubaki snaps to me, surprised that I was listening in. “Oh! It’s just, well, another rumor about Ritsu! Some of us thought she’s here because she’s mute. Although, I’m a little leery on that because I thought … Mao-chan, Yamaku doesn’t accept mental disabilities, right?”

Mao looks at her as a mother would look at her kid who just blabbed everything in the kitchen sink of secrets she was intending to keep hidden. “Yamaku does not, but you can already see her braces.”

Tsubaki pauses. “Ah right!” the side-tails girl winces, realizing she forgot something so obvious. “Yeah, she’s obviously here for that, but …”

My eye narrows, and she fidgets. “I-I mean, I’m just worried, y’know? She might have trouble trusting others…” Tsubaki attempts to explain.

Mao turns to me. “From what I do know from Saki, the Student Council often keeps tabs on students who need extra help. I mentioned the list thing earlier, right?” I nod. “And as I mentioned, that includes Ritsu.” She shows me a folder that was recently on her lap. “She has weekly appointments with the school therapist, and whenever your class representatives aren’t busy, she usually reminds her to keep up attendance.”

“Yeah!” Tsubaki chimes in. “And her attendance was perfect too, but it didn’t look like they made any progress. But after hearing that she apparently talked to you, willingly on top of that, maybe there’s a chance?” She turns to Shouhei, her arms crossed as she catches him busy eating. “Shou, you’re not helping at all,” she frets, annoyed, as she punches his forearm lightly with her wrist. Shouhei simply grins and feigns blocking but he continues eating.

The bespectacled girl waves it off. “Anyhow, we know very little concrete things aside from what Saki and the Student Council knew. Even less so than Hanako, or any others. Like I said, Ritsu refused to join anything, and our own attempts to coerce her were met with silence.”

Hanako? “Uh, who?”

She looks at me, with a slight tilt of her head. “You haven’t heard of Hanako? She’s the scarred girl in your class.”

Oh, the dark-haired girl with half her face shrouded behind her hair? I furrow my brows to remember the first time my attention was on her, which was during my first day here. I do not recall pondering or noticing her since then, I think. “Never talked to her. Haven’t found the time, nor place.”

Mao nods in acknowledgement. “Take your time. Anyhow, Hisao.” She points to the folder before replacing it in her bag to pick up her plate. I notice that the grill is turned off now. “Ask her if she can drum, alright?”

I wave my hand. “Yes yes.” I still don’t like the idea, but it is one way I can lend a hand. Taking a glance at Shouhei’s watch, I note that it is getting late.

I watch the meat sizzle and smoke on the grill, restarted by yours truly, as the others talk on and on, me clearly left out. I don’t mind though, as I’m left to ponder over my thoughts, plans for tomorrow, and what to do as I occasionally remove cooked cuts and slices and distribute them among us four. Shouhei got me another mug, this time ice oolong tea, which was new to me, but I find myself liking it. Unconsciously as I ponder tomorrow over tomorrow’s class, the schedule in my hand, I reach for the mug only to find it empty.

Shoot.

I stand up and head outside to get a refill. Shouhei notices and I wave my mug. Sure enough he gets it.

I head back outside and notice the apparently lessened number of customers from the lower din. As I head to the drinks dispenser, my eyes wander to the clock on the wall; it reads 9:34pm.

…

We have a curfew, right?

I head back to our cubicle and ask aloud to interrupt the three of them for a moment. “Uh, guys, we have a curfew, right?”

Tsubaki and Shouhei look puzzled but Mao immediately looks at her watch on her wrist. “He’s right,” she answers and pats on Tsubaki’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s finish up. Our time here is nearly over.”

“Eh? I didn’t even notice!” she exclaims. Mao looks at her with a brief sigh before she starts eating her portions.

I sit back down to quickly down the drink and finish my share as Shouhei does the same. Tsu does it more hurriedly, downing her entire plate before finding it difficult to chew when her mouth’s full, which led to Mao chastising her for being impatient. Eventually we finish the leftovers and head outside. I tag along with Tsubaki as we make our way to the entranceway when I notice that Shouhei is not following us. I tug on her sleeve to stop her. “H-hey, what’s-- oh,” she pauses as she realizes as well.

Behind us, the cashier seems to be stuck with Mao for some reason. I notice him fumbling through his pockets. Is she making him pay for it? I thought he said she’s paying for the dinner.

I wave a hand at Tsubaki as I head over to the scene. “Lemme see what’s going on,” I say, “you can wait outside.” She nods, and I make my way over.

"Seriously?" I hear him protest.

Mao rolls her eyes and hand him her book bag. "If you don't believe me, then go ahead, look."

"What's going on?" I ask.

"I forgot my wallet," the bespectacled girl answers.

I raise an eyebrow. What.

Shouhei fumbles through her book bag, moving towards an overhanging light to see better. After a minute, he concedes. "Yeah, it's not in there."

"So," I say, glancing at both of them, "… who's paying?"

Shouhei flattens his lips. Mao points at him.

"Oh come on!" he protests again. "I don't have enough on my hand either!"

I search my pockets for my wallet, and produce it. "I'll cover half of it, if you want me to."

His face brightens. "Oh! Perfect!"

Mao pauses for a second, before nodding and leaves to join Tsubaki outside. As the cashier states the bill, I pay for half of it as Shouhei pays for the rest. Once it's done he speaks up, elated. "Geez, thanks for that, Hisao."

I wave it off. "It's fine."

The cashier nods his thanks and we both exit the establishment. The summer air is colder now as the moon shines above the city lights. We notice that the girls have gone ahead of us, but we figure that it's fine to not play catch up for once. Not immediately, at least. The one eyed boy walks with his hands behind his head, while I keep mine in my pockets, as we wade into the thinner crowds.

It's a calm night.

Yet I don't share the sentiment. My thoughts return to the plans for tomorrow, now the momentary chaos of finishing our dinner was over, and resumes pondering over the roadblocks that lie ahead of me. One is crystal clear; my unwanted enemy, Kaori. I am well aware of that threat, and while I have Tsubaki on my side - who offered help even without the full context of the problem - it's still something I never wanted to deal with, nor wanted to ever happen.

But for the band's sake, I will have to. I am certain I can handle it; I have gotten myself some enemies back home, thanks to Shin's shenanigans.

The second is less clear, and more … fragile to handle. Their request for me to ask Ritsu if she could drum makes me apprehensive. I don't know her all that well, but what I do know ensures that thrusting this job onto me makes for an awkward scene tomorrow. I myself am not sure how to handle it. Rarely have I dealt with shy, or antisocial, people, back in my hometown, and never have I seen a voluntary lone wolf like her. In an increasingly interconnected world where I can call my parents right now through my phone in my pocket, it's hard to be alone.

Yet she does it. She went through all the effort to isolate herself from the community, from the school and the student body, and only recently she decided to entertain my awkward introduction yesterday. And here I am being told to pry her open a bit more. I don't like it. If it's up to me, considering the fact she's undergoing therapy for her antisocial mannerism, I'd keep her moving on her own volition. If she wants to talk with me because I'm a fellow mid-year transfer, then I'd at least give her the opportunity to do so, but it will be on her to keep it running.

I don't like it. It feels like I'm being used. Mao already tossed me into a situation where I'm now a sworn enemy to someone else. And now she has the gall to tell me to risk yet another prospectively cordial acquaintanceship. Why can I not say no?

"Yo."

I turn to Shouhei on my right. "Hm?"

He grins. "Why the long face?"

I laugh. Ah, a classic. "Pffft, nothing, really."

"You sure?" He leans at me a little closer, as if telling me to stop holding things back, like yesterday night.

… screw it. No way to move forward but solve the puzzle, one conversation at a time, and I trust him. "You've been here since April, yeah?"

He nods. "Mhm."

"Did you …" Roundabout way. " … join the band immediately?'

Shouhei shakes his head as he looks up at the night sky, as if reminiscing something. "Not really. Took Tsubaki shaking me awake in the middle of the Yamaku gardens and dragging me to the band room for that."

My eyes widen. "Really?"

"Hahaha, no. I went around looking for something to do, and found Saki by chance."

"Like me then."

He laughs. I follow suit. "First thing I heard on my first day here was Misha and Shizune asking me if I wanna know about the school. I asked about the clubs. Got my attention when I heard there's a music club, but I wasn't wholly committed to the idea until I decided to poke around.

"And then I got pulled from both ends by Rika and Saki. Saki won, and had me carry instruments from the storeroom to the stage." I whip my right arm about a bit, as if I'm shaking off the exhaustion built up. "Still a bit sore."

He laughs again. "Oh yeah, I heard about that in the morning from Saki. She's our class rep and close friend with Mao so I get a lot of second-hand rumors and stuff. She said she felt kinda bad making the new guy carry a bunch of heavy drum sets and all that on his first day."

I point at myself. "That's me alright."

We laugh together again. Looking back, that was indeed the strangest orientation procession for a club that I've seen. I guess proper procedures weren't in their head at the time, considering they got a coming festival to prepare for, a temporary stage to build. Come to think of it, she probably appreciated an extra hand and didn't expect me to pop up again today.

Maybe I can put that on my resume. Hisao Nakai, mover.

My mouth curves into a smile without my input. A sense of humor, from me? Unexpected. A glance ahead of us vanishes it though, as I got nothing that I wanted out of my needling.

"Shou."

He turns to me as his feet keep moving forward. "Hm?"

"Did Mao tell you anything about the guitar?"

"Ryou's?"

I nod.

"About what exactly? Like, where it's kept, or why Kaori wants it clean as heck all the time?"

I make a point with my hand. "Exactly. If I were Kaori I'd probably keep it hidden, safe, and not bring it out in the open."

He ponders on it, producing several memories before tossing them aside as useless. Eventually though he relents. "I remember being in the music club once when there was one of the rare new tryouts, but they were using a blue guitar, not Ryou's red."

"Huh." So it was coincidental?

"Hisao," he asks me. "Is this about Kaori?"

"Well …" I sigh, buying time to chip away at my reluctance. "...I would be lying if I say I'm still uneasy about tomorrow's practice, even with Tsubaki wanting to help calm her down. But …"

"It's Mao then."

My head droops forward, defeated. "Yeah."

He pauses, waiting for me to continue. "I have to admit when I went to the music club hall to ask if I could join the band, I thought it'd be, at the very least, acknowledgement, and nothing more negative. The tryout itself was unexpected, but nothing too difficult. We'd get to know each other - we already made progress on that ourselves, but I never knew Mao until today. But …"

I sigh. "What I got was being duped by someone who I'm supposed to be working with, into being a … scapegoat, for another who now wants me severely punished. Although, after hearing her scream, I feel like it would not be outlandish that she wants me dead."

I turn to him. "I know this probably sounds a bit childish of me, but … seriously, I got myself tricked into being a meatshield, when I don't even know what's going on." He stares at me. "Look I know she has her reasons, what with it being three days into the performance, and you guys are probably half panicking and half given up---"

Shouhei speaks up. "There's … more to that, y'know."

"Hm?" I cast a glance at him, but set my eyes forward. We're close to the crossroads now, and last thing I need is stepping into speeding traffic. Our pace speed up as he continues, with a heavily reluctant tone.

"Okay, first things first, I don't like it either," he clarifies, poking at me along the way so he still have my attention. "I'm not defending it, nor do I condone it, but she has her reasons."

He pauses, taking a deep breath, buying time to think over his words. We find that the greenlight is already flashing, so we rush ahead to the other side. "Ryou matters to her," Shouhei says, finally, "a lot."

I give it a pause, waiting for him to continue. "So?" I ask with a shrug. I'm not dismissing the reason no, but did it really needed making enemies along the way? "I don't see what's the --"

"She saw him die in her arms."

…

I shut up.

Shouhei continues, his words lacking the playful, joking tone they usually have. His expression turns dour, macabre, as he occasionally glances at me, and even more infrequently, at my sternum. "I saw it. I saw Ryou unconscious on the floor, Mao cradling his head as she tried to wake him up. I floored it there and ran downstairs to ring the emergency button, to direct the Nurse and his co-workers to the band room. So, they could carry him out to the ambulance. She was crying, all the way, only falling silent when …" He pauses, as if he himself still can't quite believe what he's going to say. "...when the doctors said they couldn't save him."

Our silence felt heavy. I shouldn't have questioned it. It looks like even Shouhei's hurt from that.

"Only barely kept him alive," he adds, "but he's never wholly there."

I feel like I stepped into forbidden grounds.

He continues. "She made it her mission that this performance, one that she and Ryou had planned for a long time from what I heard, will be done, one way or another. I cannot say no." The one eyed boy pauses. I glance at him. He seems troubled, by the second. "And even if it will involve Kaori's wrath, she will do it. And I will try to help, in whatever way I can."

Who am I to decide what is good, and what is bad, when the things they have gone through are far worse? "...and Kaori?" I ask, tentatively.

"She's also a close friend of Ryou," he answers. "I'm not sure to what extent, but since she tends to be …" Shouhei shrugs, not to affirm but rather to bemuse something. His word choice? "...well, you got to see in full how bad it gets when she's emotional so, …"

I flatten my lips. "Yeah."

A thick silence falls between us. I catch a glance of Mao, as she's walking silently ahead with Tsubaki. Now that I'm aware of her rationale, it felt … understandable. Reasonable. Maybe. I don't know; I never had a close friend die in my arms, and all I can guess as to how it felt would draw references from a bunch of soap opera dramas. I know enough that it's not something to be taken lightly.

And to know the burden on her shoulders, to carry the legacy of her band as the last surviving member, I cannot help but sympathize.

I sigh. This has made things complicated.

"I'm not asking you to follow us," Shouhei speaks up after a bump on my shoulder. "If you feel like you're not up for it, there's Tsubaki's astronomy club."

"Hahaha," is all I can respond with.

He chuckles. "Yeah. She'd be mad for a bit, but I feel like she would appreciate you joining eventually."

The boy pauses. "But if you want to help us …"

Despite the somber reminiscence, he grins and skips forward. "This will be my first, actual, request for help from you, Hisao," he says, leaning forward and points over his shoulder. "Go ask Mao to clear things up."

I pause. Maybe I should. Stop sidestepping and resenting her. Now that I know of her motives, my griping about her using me feels so minuscule. She's struggling to achieve her dreams despite half of it being brain-dead in a hospital, and here I am being a whining toddler about getting used by her?

No. I'm not without a heart. I want to help, for god's sake. If only she told me first, god-damn it. She has a right to dream, but her means of pushing forward were wrong. I should go through and tell her that. Make sure there will be no more mishaps between our temporary cooperation in the future, for both the sake of her mission and assuring myself she won't do it again. "I suppose so," I say finally.

He nods.

We have arrived at the Yamaku academy grounds now. The main building stood in front of us, even more imposing than in daylight thanks to most of its windows darkened and lights turned off. And there is not a soul in sight. I suppose worrying about curfew is done as we pass the gates.

I stare at the building as we pass by on our way to the dormitory grounds. This place still feels like a prison, and the building is its warden. But I have made progress in undermining its authority. Today, despite the blunders of the afternoon and the evening, and the troubles in the music club hall, I have made four solid friends, and am about to clear things up with a third.

Right, I still need to clear up about my faux pas with Tsubaki, but she seems just as enthusiastic to let it slide. A part of me wonders if I should do just that.

Anyhow. Suck on that, school for the disabled. I will carve out my own sphere to call my own, one way or another, just you watch.

All I have to do is get myself involved in a screaming match and be burdened with the life mission of a girl and her comatose boyfriend. Now that I put it that way, it does feel like they're somewhat of a hurdle to vault over. I let out a deep sigh, restraining it so it would blow out of the side of my mouth. Their request feels minute, grasping for hope wherever they could be, in the middle of their goals. After all, if I can ask Ritsu if she could drum or not, and it turns out she can, they will all owe me a favor. However, for the sake of this band's performance - and who am I to make someone's dying wish turn out for the worse? - it is best that I make amends with Mao.

We arrive at the dormitory grounds, and are the only people still dressed in our school uniforms. Thanks to the fact I spent most evenings inside, I never noticed that there are a few who walk about out here in the night, dressed far more casually. I guess people are more carefree around here because the central grounds are surrounded by the dorm buildings, forming a safe-ish sanctuary and garden. As we approach the center, Tsubaki hurries ahead and claps her hand as she turns around to face us, like a tour guide when the convoy reached the end of a trail.

"Alright! I guess that's it for the night! Mao, Shouhei, thank you for the meal!"

"It's fine," Mao waves it off.

"Don't mention it!" Shouhei laughs.

"And you, Hisao!" I perk up, not expecting to be singled out. "Good luck with the performance! Oh and," she places a hand next to her mouth and grins as she continues with a whisper, "Ritsu tomorrow, alright?"

I scratch at the back of my head. At the very least she has the idea to not make it obvious. "Yeah, I'll get to it."

With that done she turns forward and marches towards her dormitory block. As Shouhei turns to ours and Mao turns to hers, I place my hand on the latter's shoulder. Mao turns to face me, her expression as aloof as ever. "Mao."

That won't trick me this time.

She tilts her head to the side. She may seem uncaring, or mildly surprised and annoyed at being held back, but knowing her motives, understandable and tragic as it may be, there shan't be any games left between us. "I … I know I seem a bit … rude, and spiteful back there."

"It's understandable," she answers plainly.

"I mean, you must know, right? No one wants to get tossed into---"

I pause abruptly. I was about to say drama, but that sounds far worse and ruder and I am glad I caught it just in time. But what word should I use here? As I rack my head looking for a suitable replacement, she interrupts, seemingly understanding what I'm getting to, and with it an expression of guilt on her face.

"...I know."

So she heard him talking about it with me. Partly thankful for cutting the knot, I clear my throat. "You know that I have no relations with the past troubles your band has faced."

"Mrs. Sakamoto said so."

"So." I take a deep breath. "If I am going to do this, I need you to be straight with me. What happened back there was not okay, and while I am now aware of your reasons as to why you did it, now, I'll make it clear that I do not like being thrown into the middle of arguments, be it yours with Kaori, or anyone else's. But for Shouhei's, sake …" I pause to consider a new addition to my list of motivations, "yours, and this band's sake, I'm willing to let all this slide. Just promise me you won't do that again."

Our eyes stare at each other. Mine expects a reply of sorts while hers widen, rendered wordless. Did she not expect me to let her go? I'm certain that what I said meant acceptance, so I'm left wondering what is it that locked her up.

After a tense moment, she replies briskly. "Thank you," she says, bowing formally before immediately turning to her dormitory building entrance, marching all the way there in haste. The suddenness of her response took me by surprise. I guess she wants it over and done with quickly? A part of me wonders if she wants to hold back tears. I shut that out, lest it stokes my ego, and look up at the night sky.

One down. I'll come up with a way to deal with Kaori one day, one way or another. Maybe tomorrow's the day, maybe not.

Tsubaki is helping too.

Seeing the glinting and blinking of the stars above, a part of me wants to smile.

If it were not for the dread of tomorrow, my task of asking Ritsu and confronting Kaori in the recital hall I would have smiled

I sigh. These are the consequences of my decision to stick with the music club, to help Shouhei.

"...just gotta deal with it," I mutter to myself as I turn to the boys' dormitory, and head inside.

Thanks for updating this, else I might have missed it.

It’s bold, thoughtful, and well-written. Others have done a better job of in-depth analysis than I could do, but I have to say it’s a wonderfully solid piece of work.

There is a lot going on here - it’s dense. I had to go back and re-read sections to be sure I knew what was going on, but it’s good - I wanted to go back and re-read them. Your take on Hisao is also interesting - he has a lot more agency, but at the same time is a lot more self-doubting; a more complex character than the original everyman, and one that lends itself better to the novel-like format you’ve got going.

Anyhow, thank you for bringing us all along on your journey - enjoying it tremendously!

Also, congratulations on graduating! The past few years haven’t been easy for any of us, and, from what I’ve read, for you in particular - utmost respect.

Don't worry about karma - it sorts itself out eventually.

--

Crunching down the downtime now that the BIG chapter's out of the way. Surprisingly, I got stuck on the proofreading part more than the writing part in this one, even when it's less dense - primarily because everyone else is busy with their own lives. So yes, you're right, Asoko. Things are getting considerably difficult lately. I'm not blaming them, everyone have the right to their own lives. I myself am in some job training thing - writing this while listening to the lecture right now.

Oh and thank you. I'm somewhat nostalgic already for my time in the academia, but life calls, and I must answer. And yeah, Scene 12 is very dense; there's a lot going on - from the introduction and characterization of Mao, to the troubles he'll be facing forward from this point, the interactions between these three very close friends and their attempts to pull Hisao into their circle. And most of all, it's Ritsu, and her background in Switching Dynamics. I got a lot more to tell.

Anyhow, welcome back to my work. Many thanks to Moog, NuclearStudent, DiagonalCoffee, StealthyWolf, Stiles, and Razoredge for all chipping in on proofreading this, even if its sometimes just a couple of notes. As for the rest of you, I'm glad you're with me and enjoying it so far, so let's go. Scene 13.

Scene 13: Morning Blues

I slap my hand across the nightstand, hoping to catch the alarm clock's shut-up switch. A split second later I remember that my alarm clock is sitting in a garbage can somewhere, broken. My hand strikes the bedside table, scattering my pill bottles noisily.

Ow.

I try to blink away the sleep from my eyes. It does nothing. I should have known that would do nothing; since when did I ever go to sleep at two in the morning?

Stupid.

What happened last night? I remember that I ended up tagging along with, who was it ... right, those three downtown, had dinner at the restaurant with them, and returned to the dorms late at night. Then I couldn't sleep. I don't know if it's because I ate some heavy stuff - it is the first time I had any meat since I was first hospitalized months ago - or it's something else. Regardless, with my sleep making the vanishing act, I spent the midnight cleaning up my room and a little bit outside in the hallway. The results? My body feels stiff and my legs unwieldy. And here I am expecting some other outcome.

Stupid.

I sweep aside the blanket and stare bleary-eyed at the dim glow of the recently risen sun peaking through the curtains. At least my room's clean now ... spare the freshly scrambled pills.

As I mentally wind up the gears in my head, my mind pieces together today’s plans.

Right. Right right right, Band practice. Kaori.

A lump forms in my throat. I don’t want to go to school today. A part of me doesn't want to deal with anyone else right now. At least then I could gear up for the second confrontation with the screaming banshee that wants me dead.

…

Oh to hell with this. I scratch the back of my head, frustrated. Who am I kidding?

I just told the school to suck it. I got myself three new friends, but that ain’t staying that way if I just sit here and do nothing. Yet, I exchanged a Shizune-shaped bomb - that might not have been a bomb at all - for a Kaori-shaped bomb and a Mao-shaped fuse. That alone is not a good trade.

But I made a promise - and I want to do something that lets me relive what I’m used to. Plus, if I can help someone along the way, then that’s all the more reason.

Speaking of that, they made me promise to ask Ritsu if she can drum.

With a deep sigh, I gather what energy I have and force myself upright. Right. I need to bathe, and that’s-

Everything spins.

My stomach twists and churns as if it's trying to expel last night's dinner. Briefly my head is tugged by something inside the depths of myself, pulling away from my neck. My vision warps. Hands seem impossibly far away, yet the lamp on the side table is right up against my face.

I wince, take a deep breath, and lie back down.

What the hell is happening? Is my blood pressure shot or something?

Then a more terrifying possibility crosses my mind. I put a hand on my chest, roughly where I think my heart should be. There’s nothing but that faint, and unfortunately familiar, irregular rhythm of my heartbeat.

Relieved, I raise my hand to orient myself so I’m staring up at the ceiling.

Deep breaths. In and out. Like yesterday.

Did I do something yesterday? Something that caused this? Did I eat something?

Enough with this. I sweep aside the curtains, unleashing the morning sun into the room. The moment light touches my pupils I regret it. Its sheer intensity blinds me, and the few things I can see are unthinkably distant and distorted; the wardrobe, the table, the door. Kilometers away, stretched and torn. I shut my eyes and reach out for something with my hands, trying to feel as I go.

I can’t tell where anything is. My hand slams against something wooden, the noise and the pain taking away the headache for a brief moment, before I notice a buzzing in my ear.

Oh God. The noise. The noise!

Shaking and thrashing my head all around to dislodge this bee in my ear does nothing, and with every movement the buzzing grows louder. Each tick amplifies the pain in my head. My other hand latches onto my head, grabbing a fistful of hair. I tug, and tug, and tug, hoping it takes away the burning in my brain.

Is that the side table?

I reach further to feel what is there. Weren’t my medicine bottles he- oh.

Oh.

Scooting and peeking over the edge of my bed I can see the same many bottles scattered all over the floor.

I did not take them last night.

Are these the side effects of skipping them? Good God. Did anyone, ever, mention anything about this to me? I grapple my hand down and collect them. Quickly, without water to chase them - I down a dose hoping it won't choke me, close its container, and toss it somewhere. Where they end up is none of my concern; none of them are glass so it should be fine.

I want whatever this is to end.

I want control.

I need it.

I need my body back. The pulsing ringing in my head sets every nerve in my arms, legs - every fiber of my body ablaze.

I toss my pillow away so I can lie perfectly flat against the mattress. Thank the spirits that my sense of touch still works.

The wait feels eternal as the meds take effect. Slowly, but surely, I can make some sense of my surroundings. Blinking, the ceiling doesn't look like it wants to crash into me again. I risk a glance at the rest of the room. Everything is shifting back into place, where they're supposed to be. My head still hurts like hell as I release the fistful of hair; the distraction is no longer necessary.

To think this is how today starts.

For God’s sake, how long does it last? Minutes? Hours? All day?!

I swing my fist into the wall, only to wince as everything gets thrown back into chaos again. Eventually, my senses calm back down, and the ringing in my head recedes. It feels okay enough to at least sit up, slowly.

God.

Okay, I get it. Never miss my meds.

Out of nowhere someone knocks on the door, each rap loud enough to echo in my head. "Hey, Hisao?!" the transgressor calls from behind the locked door. "Are you there?"

My teeth clench. I really want to get myself out of this mess, and whoever it is he's not helping. "WHAT?!" I yell back, with all the intended hostility that I hope can scare him off.

"Oh good you're in there."

He didn't pick up the cue. Pinching my forehead in irritation I stand up, my legs wobbling as I try to contain the swirling nausea in my stomach. "Is that you, Kenji?"

"Yeah, I wanna ask something."

Why now? "Can …" Whatever energy I thought I found vanishes, and, my head still reeling, I grab a hold of the wall so I don't fall. "Can it be later? I'm … not doing so great right now."

"Really?"

"Really."

There's a moment of silence before he replies. "Lemme in so I can take a look. We men gotta look out for each other after a--"

Oh for God's sake. I slam on the wall. "NO, NOT NOW! I'm really not in the mood!"

Silence. "Okay. I get it." I can barely make light of the shuffling of feet through all the rigging in my head, but he did leave.

I slump back in bed.

Irritating.

----------

As soon as I get out of the dormitory doors and into the grounds, the first thing I notice is the sheer lack of people about. I'm running very late. Mustering whatever strength my breakfast lacking body has, I quickly join the few who are with me, hastening my pace. However, just as I reach the road crossing, I flinch as someone pokes me in the ribs. "Who the--?"

I look around for the culprit, before looking down. It's the twintails girl from yesterday, the same one who crashed into me, and she's smiling at me expectantly. "Hey, Hisao!"

What was her name again? I bite my lips, a little frustrated at this lapse of memory, before I decide to bite the bullet. "Uh, sorry, what’s your name again?" I ask.

In an instant she looks crossed, and folds her arms together. "Aww! You’re telling me I didn’t leave a big enough impression yesterday?!"

Yes yes, I know that. I look around, trying to buy time for myself so I can reach into the fogged up mind after that disastrous nausea spell. Ah right. "Emi?"

Spontaneously she bounces on her feet, grinning. Or rather, her prosthetics, which seem less thin and more leg-like than yesterday's, as they creak slightly. "Good! You did remember me!" I notice the flow of students passing us is rapidly drying up, so I continue walking. Her new prostheses squeak a bit with every step of the way as she tags along. "Still, sorry about that by the way."

I wave it off. A part of me thought Emi had other motives for crashing into me like that, but one look at her as she walks without a care in the world despite our pressing tardiness, reminds me that she's honestly that clumsy when not flying off at the speed of light. Also, she is far shorter than I thought she would be, considering that she's in the same class as Tsubaki. How old is Emi? "It's fine," I assure her.

She lets out a big sigh of relief and falls silent for a moment as we walk together. "Hisao," she speaks up, "did you see the Nurse yesterday?"

Hm? I don't recall having to meet the Nurse again, nor anyone telling me to do so. I shake my head. "N-no, I didn't. Why?"

She stares at me, shocked. "I…" she stammers in exasperation, "he was looking all over the place for you! Where did you go?!"

“Uh.” I cast a glance behind before turning back to her. There's two guys behind us hurrying up, and yet now she's trying to make a scene. "Downtown," I answer while I hasten my pace. Emi easily keeps up with me despite having shorter legs and on prostheses, her clumsiness somehow gone in an instant. "And I joined Shouhei's band."

"Shouhei?" She takes a moment to register before seemingly tossing it aside. "Wait, this isn't even -- Hisao, you're coming with me!"

All of sudden I'm pulled back as she somehow reaches my collar and pulls it down. I rip myself out of her grip. Just let go of me, will you? "No!" I protest, backing away from her. I can feel the pulsing headache coming back. Goddamnit. "Why is he looking for me anyway?! We're gonna be late for class!"

Emi grits her teeth as she races up at me. I step aside quickly enough to dodge her. "Nurse will have a fit you know!" she protests.

Just stop it!

"NONE of my matters right now!" I snap back, one hand on my head pinching it in an attempt to quell the headache.

Instantly her frustrated look vanishes - a moment of surprise, followed by her shrinking back.

Ah.

I just shouted at her.

"...sorry," she whispers.

She looks like a hurt puppy and has the similar aura of remorse of one. I drop my hand from my head, as the headache shrinks back as well. My shoulders fall as I sigh. This… has gotten a lot more difficult. "Okay, look, I…" I pause, finding words in my mental dictionary that won't paint her as the villain. "I had a bad morning, really, but that … was a bit much. So …" Another pause. My held breath sighs. Nothing I can come up with is good.

After a couple seconds of silence I press on with what I got. "You shouldn't be - sorry, that is,” I scratch my head. “I should be the one apologizing, so I'm really sorry about that."

It's really rare for me to let my anger slip like that to anyone. So much so that when I do, I realize that I don't exactly know how to apologize. I only have myself to blame for missing my medication last night; that one slip up led to this really bad morning, and I took it out at Emi who's probably just following orders or just checking in on me out of genuine concern. At this rate, god knows what will happen later today.

Both of us walk awkwardly and quietly, too guilty to look at each other. Fortunately, Emi breaks the silence on her own. "Well…" she acquiesced, "yeah. I didn't know though!"

"Who could've," I retort with a forced shrug. The last of the other students have vanished around the corner ahead of us. "C'mon, we'll be late." Thankfully Emi nods and tags along.

As we go up the stairs, she remains quiet. A part of me is thankful that she isn't trying to bring that back up, but the silence was paid with my baseless anger at her. I shouldn't have snapped at her like that. From her uniform yesterday I can guess she's in the track team, and any fitness oriented groups and clubs are bound to be under close scrutiny of the medical department, and thus the Nurse, right? Besides, didn't he recommend that I go for a light walk at least?

Which, I did. I walked all the way to Souromoni yesterday.

Now that I think about it, he must've sent Emi or someone to look over me to ensure that I do my walks.

They would know, right?

If it's not her, then it might have---

No. I can’t think like that.

Just as we reach the back doors of the main building's clubhouse wing, I speak up. "I'm sorry about that, really."

Emi looks at me for a moment, a little surprised, but then looks away. "It's fine," she squeaks awkwardly. “Nurse says I’m too pushy sometimes.”

Deep inside my mind I make sure to kick myself where it really hurts.

Seriously. Bad morning. If this is the opening chorus of a song I would name it Bad Morning, put in a bunch of grating chords, set the paper alight, crumple it, and throw it out of the window. As we step up I look away at some window, at my shoes, at the tiles of the floor - basically anywhere that isn’t Emi. As my hand hovers over the doorknob, just as I'm thinking of an excuse to further embarrass myself in front of Emi while opening the door, someone familiar is standing in front of the elevator we're heading for.

Ritsu.

I shake my head. Tainaka. Her surname is Tainaka.

She is staring blankly at the LCD screen of the elevator. How she got here without either of us noticing I have no idea. Emi, on the other hand, doesn’t even notice her - instead wondering why I'm surprised until her own face nearly brushes against Tainaka’s shoulder. "Eeep! Ritsu?"

Alerted, Tainaka flinches from the near contact and turns to Emi, looking slightly annoyed as her brows furrow. Emi understandably takes one big step back, all the way behind me. I turn back to TainakaRitsu, and our gazes meet for a brief moment.

Those hazel eyes again.

They bear little expression, faded as it is, but I'm certain that when she saw me, something sparked. Recognition perhaps? Briefly I feel something strange. Excitement? Guilt? My memory recalls what Mao and Tsubaki said she's known for, being unapproachable and antisocial. I have my doubts about their summary of her, especially so seeing her here. Her frown fades and she seems to lower her guard a little. I raise my hand in an attempt of a wave as I step forward next to her to wait for the elevator. She nods, and shifts her attention to the screen.

Those hazel eyes. As the numbers draw smaller, Emi tags along, putting me between Tainaka and herself. As for the impassive acquaintance, she does not step away from me. Her reputation precedes her such that even the giddy Emi withdraws, reluctant to even greet her, but in my eyes Tainaka is just a quiet girl. She reminds me of some of the less talkative, less sociable classmates back home. And frankly, I don't mind the similarities; it's strangely calming, unlike many memories harkening back to my old world. Is it Tainaka herself?

The elevator dings, and we walk inside.

The trip is short, but with all the thoughts running in my head it feels unnaturally long. It definitely does not help that Emi is still keeping her distance from Tainaka, staring at her as if she might jump her at any moment. Tainaka, perhaps noticing how closely attached Emi is to me, is trying to step away, but there’s so much space this elevator can afford.

Nevertheless, now is my chance. I shoo away errant thoughts and memories as I recall the promise I made to those three yesterday about the drummer issue. As much as I don't like broaching topics out of the blue with someone who clearly values silence, I still want the band to be able to practice, and maybe, just maybe, she might be the answer they're all seeking.

I take a deep breath. "Hey, Tainaka."

I can feel Emi flinching. Tainaka turns to me. "Hi Hisao," she replies plainly.

I gulp. She remembers my name at least. Wait, she used my first name? No, no no no, she’s probably used to the Yamaku way of things. I don’t know what got in their heads here, but I’m keeping the traditional way of things. I close my eyes. The only reason why I didn’t refer to those three with their surnames is because I want to be friends with them, as overt and awkward that is. Plus, they reciprocated. But, I know for a fact, from watching and listening to people around here, they seem to prefer a first-name basis from the get go.

To think Tainaka, as much as she did not mingle with the rest of the school - and vice versa, if what Tsubaki said is anything to go with - is also on first-name basis.

I sigh. Now is not the time. The screen shows a one and an upward facing arrow. "I … um," I start to say, inwardly kicking myself for stuttering. "There's something I want to ask."

"Later," Tainaka replies almost instantaneously as her brows knit again.

Ouch.

Deep inside I can feel my heart sink. I messed up, again. Either I was right about the whole "forgetting how to speak," thing, or I never had it to begin with. Almost all conversations that I had here have been led by the extrovert extraordinaires, now that I remember, and I've only ever started anything once. That one time was with Shouhei too, an already overtly friendly guy who would toss you back anything you gave him. I purse my lips, and stare ahead. "Oh, okay then."

Shoot.

I don't like it. I don't like myself for messing it up. Maybe I should find another opportunity somewhere? Or maybe she just doesn't want to add more on our proverbial plate. The delusion that she could be someone that I can actually talk with, that won't make my issues a problem or at straight up dismiss me when I don't want to talk about it. Oh who the hell believes that anyway; I'm a stranger to her, and she's a stranger to me. Maybe she just likes the quiet I offer, and if I retract that somehow it's not a great deal anymore, is it?

The elevator dings again, interrupting my thoughts. I ran off again, didn't I? We've reached the third floor, and as soon as the doors open Tainaka rushes out, walking down the hallway as fast as possible barring an obvious jog. My heart sinks a little lower.

I guess I'm the nuisance here.

"Hey. Hisao." I look down at Emi behind me as I quickly hold the door open so she can get out. "Thanks," she says with a nod. I just remembered Emi was with me. Did Tainaka not want to talk because there was someone else around?

I don't know anymore. First, the headache. Then, it's blowing a gasket at Emi. And now this. Too much for a morning.

Emi hoists her green bag up her shoulders with one hand, and waves another in front of my face, grinning as she does. "Inviting a ghost, or are you just spacing out??"

I shake my head and let the elevator door close. Enough with the thoughts. "Sorry, got a lot on my plate."

She frowns momentarily before skipping ahead. "We're pretty late." That almost ever-present grin of hers returning in full.

I nod in agreement. The hallways are empty, and I can hear lessons already starting in the classes. Damnit, it's enough I'm annoying to two people, I don't want to disturb entire classes.

Emi sighs. "Catch ya later, Hisao!" she says before taking off, waving at me as she goes. "And I hadn't forgotten my promise to get you something! Tomorrow, okay?"

I wave back and nod as she disappears around the corner. With my own sigh, I make my way down to my homeroom.

Oh man, this fic is rich and dense! Like a black forest gateaux! Really enjoyed what you've done so far, Talmar!

Okay.

I'm sorry for being absent for half a year. I've just gone through the most chaotic few months of my life. Graduation ceremony, less than successful job hunting, moving houses across the fucking ocean, to name a few. And as the result, the first draft of this chapter became what is the worst I've ever written in my entire life. The moment I was done, I hated it. It was just a single tide of grammatical errors and fuckups that I can't discern what went wrong.

To that end - cue drumroll - I have Silentcook to thanks for proofreading the chapter! Thank you Silentcook! Your help is immense and the tragedy that struck your eyes upon seeing my work will not be forgotten.

And thank you for dropping by, Sharp-O! I've always loved your spriteworks. They're awe-inspiring. As for the rest of you, I'm glad you're with me still, so let's go. Scene 14, the turn of the story.

Scene 14: Everyday Troubles

I open the door and hurry across to my seat while Mutou scratches his lecture on the blackboard. He gives me a sideways glance as I pass by him. It’s not distinct, but it’s enough that I’m getting the impression that whatever positive thoughts he had of me yesterday have lost their edge. I swallow; now is not the time. Quickly and quietly I sit down, take out everything I need, and get back to work.

Off to the edge of my vision I can see the dynamic duo signing to each other, albeit very lethargically. This time Misha seems to have been run dry of energy, lagging behind, her hands wilting as Mutou gives his lecture. Shizune, on the other hand, is frowning with such intensity as she takes her notes her irritation is made clear through each pencil stroke. She barely even notices my late entry. Not that I mind, but what happened here while I was preoccupied earlier?

I reach out to Misha to ask, but my attempts are quickly shut down by Mutou turning around to explain some of his lecture vocally, describing the introductory materials for electromagnetic physics. I shut up and go to work, but not without stealing a glance behind me.

Ritsu is reading the textbook instead of writing or paying attention. She wears a similar frown to Shizune’s.

Damn. Is that my fault? I want to ask, just to make sure.

Before I can say a word, Mutou clears his throat to regain the attention of his students. And of course he’s staring at me.

Enough breaking the rules for now.

---

“Remind me to never do that again.”

Tsubaki’s laughter peals through the hallway, drawing attention from every passerby. “I mean, I get it, that was bad on Mao’s part, but hey, we got Hisao to save our asses.”

Lunchtime came again, and when the bell rang, Shouhei was already waiting for me by the classroom door like yesterday. He seemed slightly less enthused, to which I asked if something was up. Turns out he got an earful from his mom about overspending, and thanked me again for, in Tsubaki’s words, “saving our asses.” I sigh as we make our way to 3-4’s homeroom door.

As much as I dislike Mao’s stunt of yesterday, and as much as I dislike the entire stock of shenanigans I have lined up ahead of me because of this band I joined, the alternatives do not seem appealing at all. Shizune and Misha made themselves scarce after the first morning class. Approaching Saki directly after this might be something I want to consider, but I will have to find her isolated from her posse first. Last thing I need is running headlong into the Banshee of the Music Club.

Last thing I need is being used again.

Ritsu said she wanted to talk to me later. I have no idea if she was being dismissive, or she genuinely did meant for me to come and look for her later in the day. Either way, when the bell for lunchtime rang, she bolted out of the door, surprising the dark-haired girl and her foreign-looking companion. A glance on both ends of the hallway yielded no result; she was gone in that instant. With no other choice, I merely shrug and figure to myself, why not. It’s not like Mao had lunch with Shouhei’s group yesterday.

However, Tsubaki is really trying to rope me in their chatter. I hesitate, adjusting the strap of my backpack. A glance at Shouhei tells me he’s still hung up about the issue. “Well,” I start, “I didn’t want things to end up awkwardly. We weren’t aware she blew her allowance on taxis.”

Shouhei nods in agreement. “Exactly! Mao could’ve given us a heads up. I wouldn’t have minded paying had she told me earlier, and last night I got a lecture from my mum.”

Both Tsubaki and Taichi try to restrain their laughter. It’s loud enough for him to notice anyway.

“Wait, was that your entire allowance?” Taichi asks.

He nods. “Yeah, and now all I got are the cup noodles I found in the pantry.”

“Those are my cup noodles,” I interject.

Tsubaki laughs. Shouhei turns to me with pleading eyes. “Can I borrow ‘em? I’ll get you more later.”

“Yeah sure, I don’t mind.” To be honest I have no problems handing them out. It’s just that now I’m down one cup noodle for study night.

Chihiro, who has been walking quietly beside Tsubaki, speaks up, her voice soft but firm. “Maybe Mao has her reasons. It’s the festival season, and she might have forgotten.”

Tsubaki nods in agreement. “Chihiro got a point. Let’s not make that spoil today’s fun.”

The eyepatched boy casts a glance at her, ruffles his hair, and sighs. “Yeah, you’re right.” Tsubaki flashes a wide grin. “That said,” he continues, “what’cha got for today’s agenda?”

Her grin turns into a pondering frown as she places a finger against her lips. “Hmm, we were gonna meet with Mao again after class anyway, ‘cuz you guys are gonna practice in the rehearsal hall. Chi-chan, Taichi, wanna come along?”

Both of them nod. She in turn grins and starts to march ahead of us. On the other hand, thanks for the reminder, Tsubaki. It’s not as though I had gained some sort of innate reluctance to facing the Banshee of Yesterday thanks to what happened. We arrive at the elevator without any steam train barreling towards me this time.

“Hisao,” Shouhei speaks up, “you ready for practice?”

I pat my book bag. “Read through the notes. I think I got it.”

He looks like he wants to ask about something further, but he changes his mind halfway through. Instead he gives me a thumbs-up. “Alright! Can’t wait to perform together.”

I give him a rueful grin. “It’s just …”

He looks at me. The elevator dings and we enter. “What is it?”

“Well, I told you already. Kaori.”

“Still hung up about that?”

Tsubaki’s interjection interrupts both our trains of thought. She gives me a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll distract her while you guys perform, alright?”

“Was that in the plans?”

She nods with a cheeky grin. “Talked about it with Mao earlier.”

“Alright,” I say. If all of them are putting this much effort into this, I guess I can’t complain. I smile. “Thank you Tsubaki.”

For a fleeting moment her cheeks redden, but she hides it by almost immediately going behind me and appearing at the other side with a mischievous grin. “Not a problem, anything for Tsubaki and Company!”

Tsubaki and Company? Shouhei sees my confusion and pokes my shoulder. “That’s the name she came up with for us four.” He pauses. “Well, five now.”

I chuckle. “I thought this was your group.”

He waves it off. “Nah, nah, she came up with it first. I joined the school this year, remember?”

Ah right, he did tell me that. Shouhei joins something Tsubaki and Taichi are arguing about, excusing himself as he shimmies behind me to get to them, presumably to play his role as peacekeeper again since I notice the heat intensifying. Speaking of heat, does this elevator not have any air conditioning? Quietly I lean against the wall and open my bag, wanting a drink.

Wait. Where is it? Oh for god’s sake, not again.

The doors open at the first floor, our destination. I stop it from closing as everyone else exits. Should I go ahead, even if I don’t have anything to eat? I recall there is a vending machine at the corner of the cafeteria, but I would need to split from Shouhei and others for a bit. “Hm?” I hear Shouhei saying. “What’s up?” The others turn around when they hear him.

Gah. I am absolutely certain I stuffed my bag with at least some of the stuff I bought a few days back. Did I forget? Did my brain make up the memory? All I can remember is practicing the guitar a bit after doing the laundry. Quickly I rummage through my book bag, just to check again. All I am feeling are my notebooks and the pencil case.

Okay. Deep breath. I check my trouser pockets; my wallet is with me. “Sorry, Shou,” I answer him, flattening my lips in the wake of this awkward moment where everyone is staring at me. “I, uh, I think I forgot my lunch back at the dorms.”

“Ouch.”

“If you guys don’t mind, I’ll head down to the cafeteria to get something. I’ll be back once I’m done, promise.”

“We can give you some of ours, Hisao,” Tsubaki offers, raising her own book bag. “Honest.”

I shake my head. I can’t accept that. “No thanks, Tsubaki, I’m fine.” I let go of the doors to allow them to close. As they disappear behind the doors, I call out to them. “See you in the common room!” Irritated, I press the lowest button. Did I imagine tossing my snacks in the bag last night? The fact that it was supremely later than my usual schedule does not help. Neither is the morning’s headache blurring things.

I sigh. Stupid of me.

The door slides open again, and I immediately join the crowd heading to the cafeteria. I call it a crowd, but it’s pretty sparse compared to what I’m used to. As soon as I enter the hall, I split off and head straight for the two vending machines in the corner, next to some unoccupied tables and benches. Fortunately, both machines are desolate of buyers, and both sell some snacks and water.

There’s no time to lose. There’s a chance the dynamic duo is here in the cafeteria, and the last thing I need is for someone to pin me here and keep me from rejoining my friends upstairs. Crafting yet another disaster is definitely NOT on my list of things to do today. I roll my eyes at myself for forgetting to ask for Shouhei’s contact number, or as a matter of fact, anyone else’s.

I’m hastily typing the numbers in, when I hear a cough and a familiar, slightly gravelly voice behind me. “Hisao.”

“Hm?” I turn around. To my surprise, it’s Ritsu, standing behind me in queue. “Oh, hey,” I reply, “didn’t see you there.” She looks anxious, as if there is something bothering her.

“Uh, hey,” she starts bluntly, her fingers twiddling one of her two fronds of hair flanking her face as best as they can, arrested in place by those wrist braces. “Yeah… me too. So, uh, how are you?”

What. I raise a brow at this unexpected and awkward attempt at closing the distance. This is the first time I hear her saying anything that might lead to a conversation of her own initiative, and it’s clashing with my impression of her, again. She seems unsure as to whether she wants to look at me or somewhere else, and frankly she’s not alone in that, because I’m also scrambling for things to say. “I’m fine, yeah. You?”

She furrows her brows a bit and frowns, her finger letting go of her hair. What the hell is wrong with me.

“... yeah. Um, what is it?” I add. When everything goes sideways, be straightforward. The vending machine I’m using makes a clunking noise when my bread comes out of its output compartment. I quickly pick it up and step aside so she can have her turn.

“Well…” Ritsu fidgets a bit more, stepping forward in one big stride, then looking around behind her at the crowd. Now that I notice, there isn’t any embarrassment or meekness, or anything like that in her. Instead she looks more like she’s torn between keeping up this act in front of an audience, or just bolt like the last time I saw her in the cafeteria. And that is when I realize her discomfort makes sense; I saw what happened last time she was here. “I did say I’d talk to you later,” she says after a moment of silence. I turn back to see her trying to insert the coins in their slot. Her wrist braces are making it difficult. “’Later’ happens to be right now, so… what’s up?”

So she did want to talk to me! I can’t help but smile for the briefest moment. She casts me a glance as if I started doing jumping jacks out of nowhere, so I quickly wipe it off. Should we leave? Talk elsewhere, maybe? The straightforward approach is going fine so far, but maybe for her sake it’s best if we talk elsewhere. I look behind me. The thinning crowd flowing through the doors earlier has fully evaporated now, with only one or two stragglers coming and going. I shove my bread in my bag. “Do you mind waiting a second?” I say, pointing at the drinks machine.

The snacks machine clunks again. Ritsu reaches down to pick up her bread and immediately tears open the plastic. “Go ahead,” she replies without looking at me, leaning against the drinks machine.

Good. I start inputting the number for bottled water when a thought comes up in my head. “Want something to drink?”

Ritsu looks at me with a blank expression before turning elsewhere. A non-answer, huh. Well, I suppose I’ll get her a drink nonetheless. I pay for two ordinary water bottles, pick them up and offer one to her. She frowns. “Take it,” I insist.

She closes her eyes before taking it and sighs. I can tell she rolled her eyes, and I have to suppress a chuckle from coming out. One final scan of the cafeteria hall yields no sighting of familiar faces aside from Ritsu’s; those pink drills that Misha sports should be very easy to spot, as well as Kaori’s excessive height. I head towards the doors, then turn around to see Ritsu still standing there. “Come on.”

I catch her brightening up for just a moment. Then she scans the hall, nods, and resumes her blank expression as she follows me. As we leave, she seems relieved to be out. Okay, that’s the first good thing I have done so far. Now that we’re out, Maybe we should take the scenic route instead of heading the way I came in? Introducing her to Tsubaki and company straight away seems unwise, considering the physical and mental effort it took for us to even start talking. Ritsu seems willing to let me decide, if her silence as she nibbles away at the bread means anything.

I curse myself again for forgetting to ask for any of Shouhei’s or Tsubaki’s contact info. Sorry, you two, this is urgent! You told me to approach her anyway!

We start ambling down the hallway away from the elevator, our footfalls thudding against the linoleum floorboards. I don’t exactly know where we are heading, aside from walking for distance’s sake. There is no one here: nothing but gray stone walls and occasional doors. I spy a staircase leading upstairs, next to the exit at the end of the hallway. That could work. Unless she wants to pull me in another direction, that is.

I shove a hand halfway into my book bag to retrieve my snack. “Well,” I start, “first off, sorry for being annoying to you earlier in the morning.”

Ritsu looks up at me before shaking her head, her bread still in her mouth. “Mmmph phmmph,” she tries to talk. I am about to laugh when she swallows her food. “That’s fine.” At the very least, her nerves seems to have calmed down. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Thanks, glad I wasn’t doing anything to make you angry.” I start tearing open the plastic wrapping. “Especially since you basically bolted once lunch started. We were late, after all.”

“Mhm.”

“I’ll try not to do that again.”

“Hisao.”

I gulp. I know, I know, she doesn’t like small talk, but my mouth just runs by itself. “Hm? What is it?”

She gives me furrowed brows and a short look. “What is it you want to talk to me about?”

“..Right.” I pause. “Are you good at drumming? With a big drum set. Not the marching band one.”

Instantly she pauses in her tracks. I stop a little ahead of her. Why did she stop? Did I say something wrong? Her impatient look is replaced by one frozen in surprise, somewhat masked by her attempt to hide it with her frown. Ritsu purses her lips, stares at me for one moment, turns to the wall for another, and then back at me. I reach out a hand, only for her to take a step back and speak up. “Drumming?” she asks. It does not feel like she’s asking for clarification.

And even though I didn’t intend on touching her, the fact she took a step back makes my heart sink. I nod, nevertheless.

Her shoulders fall a little. She sighs. “…No, can’t say I can.”

“Ah, okay.” Well that’s… fine, I suppose. It looks like we aren’t getting a drummer for this performance after all. Shoot.

Ritsu must have seen me worrying, as she purses her lips and start bouncing lightly on her feet. I raise my hand to placate her. “No, no, it’s fine. See, I joined a band just yesterday, and they told me to look around for a drummer, because ... well, they’re missing one for the festival. If you can’t, that’s fine, I can ask someone else,” I confess, ending with an uncertain laugh. If there is anyone else I can ask, anyway.

She casts a glance at the window, high above the undecorated wall, and resumes walking. I follow beside her.But I can’t shake off the feeling I’ve said something wrong.

We amble on in silence, our footsteps’ echoes ringing loudly in this empty portion of the school. I don’t recall ever coming here; the walls themselves aren’t the normal painted concrete; instead they are gray-painted bricks with visible mortar. As we get closer to the end of the hallway, the high windows in the middle of the wall, granting vision of the courtyard beyond. It’s dotted with students picnicking among themselves. I spot Saki, or someone who looks like her, sitting down under a tree next to some of her friends who are grilling something. Are they allowed to do that?

Before I realize it, we have arrived at the stairwell, its door behind us. The stairs illuminated by the tall, wall-spanning windows should lead us into the first floor of the twinned school wing that mirrors the clubhouse annex. If I imagine it right, that is.

If Ritsu can’t drum, where else can I look for someone who can? I doubt Shizune can drum, considering that she’s deaf and deeply immersed in her job as the student council president. And wherever she is, Misha follows. The same deal goes for Saki and Rika; both are busy with the music club’s stage and everything else. I don’t know anyone else; if Taichi or Chihiro could drum, then they wouldn’t need to tell me to try asking Ritsu. Or they just can’t drum. I can already imagine Mao’s disappointed sigh, despite knowing her for less than a day. I pray to all the gods that Mao has a recording of Saori’s testing somewhere, and maybe we can try asking the computer club to stitch together a synthesized track. I’ve done all I could.

“Ever… worked with a drummer before?”

Hm? I turn to Ritsu, who is staring ahead with her bread in hand, half-eaten. I did not expect her to start a conversation. “Uh, well, I did. Before I came here.”

“You were in a band?”

I nod. “Four of us. It was in my old school.”

Ritsu looks at me, a twinkle of interest sparkling in her eyes. “Old school?”

I hesitate before nodding again. I don’t know what to feel about telling someone I met two days ago about my past, but, as they say, the past is past. “Yeah, two years there. Was with them for two years more before then, in junior high.” I bite off another chunk of my own bread. “Closest friends I’ve ever had. We joined up because the orchestra club’s president and conductor then was particularly abusive with her rules and expectations, and we stood up to her and made our own band after the teachers intervened into our short rebellion.

“Hmm.” There is amazement in her hum. That story has always sparked some sort of awe, because it was awesome, to be honest. “At first, it was just my… friend, Takumi, stewing over his role. I thought he was being childish, but when things got closer to the cultural festival, practice became more frequent, and the conductor was clearly frustrated, lashing out at people not doing their parts right.”

“It couldn’t be helped, right?” Ritsu asks.

I shake my head. “Cultural festivals always takes place at the most inconvenient time, yeah, but that doesn’t mean she can start insulting us. She even lashed at me when I messed up a section. I mean, imagine me with that big-ass tuba in my arms - try handling that while also juggling expectations.”

I chuckle at the remembrance, and Ritsu laughs trying to imagine it. “So what made things boil over?” she asks, taking another bite as we reach the first floor’s landing.

“She started mocking Takumi’s family.” More specifically, his parents, who doted on him well into junior high. We all knew that, and to be honest, some of us were envious. I can’t particularly say that I was jealous of his parents’ attention. Plus I got a share as well, considering that during my own parents’ absence due to work, his parents practically raised me with him.

Ritsu’s eyes widen. “That… that’s a step too far, isn’t it?”

I nod. “Yeah, definitely. I… blew up at the conductor, told her that she was letting her unreasonable expectations get the better of her. Takumi was somewhat more well-off than most of us, but he was friendly and popular, so most people didn’t mind. But that time, I guess it got to her head? She threw her conductor baton at me, and I threw my music sheet back. Then Takumi joined in.”

Ritsu laughs again. “That was gonna be chaotic.”

“Oh, don’t you know it.” I say, laughing in turn.

Ritsu does not sound like the person they desctibed to me last night. I take a look and I notice a slight smile remaining on her face. I can’t help but smile myself. Ritsu definitely does not live up to her reputation, does she? Then… what happened to give her that reputation?

I ask her, “What about you?”

She looks at me, the smile replaced by confusion.

Oh, right. I realize what I was going to ask and stop myself just in time. How do I word this so I don’t imply I know about the fact I know she was admitted to Yamaku a year earlier? As I ponder, I reflexively stretch my fingers with my thumb, making quiet clicking sound as some joints are pushed back into place. I finally say, “…Where were you, before you came here?”

She pauses for a second. “Tokyo.”

Hey. “Oh, same as me.” I comment. “Which city?”

She furrows her brows for another moment before answering, just as tersely. “Shibukawa.”

“That’s pretty far inland.”

“What about you?” Ritsu asks.

I pause for my own second, if only to mimic her own hesitance. “Yokohama.”

Her eyes brighten up at the name. “Downtown?”

“Yeah. Always been a city guy.”

“Hmm.” Ritsu finishes off the last bits of her bread.

“...At least, I remember Shibukawa is inland. It’s that way north, right?”

She nods. “Almost halfway to Niigata.”

“Oh right, yeah.” I remember passing by the outer cities of Tokyo on the way to my relatives in Niigata. My parents and I didn’t stop for long anywhere mid-transit, because there was not much to do until we arrived, but the gas station in Shibukawa was particularly crowded for a place as rural as it is. I pull out my bottle of water. “Ever been to Yokohama?”

Ritsu pauses for a second, before shaking her head. “Too far.”

What? I look at her, incredulous. “There’s a train that connects Niigata to Kawasaki. It passes through your town.”

Her frown intensifies as she shoots at me her own incredulous stare, as if she found me to be stupid. “Don’t wanna.” I can’t help but laugh. In an instant, she frowns even more strongly, before shaking her head.

…Tsk. I shouldn’t have laughed.

As we keep on walking at Ritsu’s own pace, I spy the main atrium where I last saw Tsubaki and the rest of them just ahead of us.

I hear Ritsu asking, “Where are we going?”

Shoot. “Somewhere,” I say, unsure. “Just walking for the sake of walking.”

She casts me a glance I’m uncertain how to interpret. After a moment, she shrugs, and pulls out the bottle I gave her earlier. She stares at the cap intensely for a moment, as her hand hovers over it. Hesitantly, she grabs onto the cap as well as her braces afford her to. What is she doing? I am certain I never saw anyone hesitating to twist off a bottle cap before, yet she’s fumbling a bit without result. “Hey, uh,” I speak up, as we both pause in our tracks. “Need help?”

She shoots me a stern glare before trying again. Her wrist braces, now that I note, are making it really difficult for her to grab on to the bottle as only her fingertips can grip onto the thing. After another moment of awkward fumbling, I ask her again. “You sure?”

“I’m fine,” she hisses. Okay, okay. Ritsu tries one more time, and this time she does it - but she immediately winces and her hands let go, surprising us both. Biting her lips, she immediately backs off into the wall behind her with a slam. The shock of her suddenly letting go of the water bottle shook off quickly when I, confused as to what happened, hear her hissing loudly. Her fingers are crookedly bent, and she’s trying her damnedest to unclasp the quick-release buckle keeping the braces on but her fingers can’t get a grip. I reach for the buckles and unclasp them, letting the braces fall to the floor.

She shoots a look at me, but instead of the hostile glare from earlier, her eyes now glisten with pain. Ah. I just realized what I did.

“I, uh,” I manage to stammer.

Her lips flatten into a line as she grimaces. Shoot, what do I do now? Ignoring the spilled bottle on the floor, I step forward and just as I am about to ask if she can walk, her knees buckle forward. I quickly catch her by the arms but it isn’t enough to prevent her knees from impacting the floor with an audible thud. “Argh!”

“Sorry! I…” I look at her as I lower her to the ground slowly. Ritsu is shaking badly, panting heavily as she strains to keep the pain in check. Her fingers are crooked and quivering violently. A part of me wants to chastise her for not admitting she needed help with the bottle, … this, especially if she’s aware that this can happen. Another look tells me to shut up.

How do I get help? I scan both ends of the halls, hoping there would be someone I can call on. There is not a soul in sight, though; they’re all probably downstairs in the cafeteria or outside.

Where else can I get help? Right. Infirmary.

“Ritsu, are you okay?”

She furrows her brows at me, increasingly irritated. Her arms are completely limp now, and so are her legs.

Again. Words. “I mean, look. Let’s go to the infirmary, now. Can you stand up?”

Ritsu scoffs, before shaking her head and biting her lips. I kick my bag up to the wall and reach for her left arm, gesturing to her to raise it. She can only raise her arms at shoulder’s height, but that’s enough; I take off her book bag and push it aside, next to mine. Kneeling down, I wrap her arm around my shoulder and position myself so that I pull her up. I use my free hand to hold her waist. It doesn’t help that she immediately tenses up, but a glance at her tells her that we need to cooperate. As we stand up, I realize she’s considerably lighter than I expected and I nearly tumble us back to the ground, but I manage to stabilize ourselves.

I can hear her wincing, hissing through gritted teeth. The knees.

I need to keep holding on. I have never done this before, and frankly, this idea came to my mind because of movies. It’s actually hell to just stand up, but it’s what needs to be done.

Just as I take the first step, my brain blanks on where the regular infirmary is, other than in the main building. The physiotherapy and medical center is in another building entirely, and hell if I’m hauling both of us there. “Uh, do you know where it is?”

She makes a small sound in her throat before tilting her head to point back the way we came. Ritsu’s no longer gritting her teeth, so that might be a good sign.

“Alright.”

Step by step. Since her legs are limp and trying to move them in any shape or form is probably painful I’m quite literally dragging her feet along as I walk. I hoist her as high up as I could, but there’s only so much before my own back is screaming to stop. Our pace is a lot slower, but that’s fine. I quietly thank that there is no one around to see us, or this would feel a lot more embarrassing. The fact that my arm is wrapped around her waist does not help, either. “Sorry about this,” I speak up, panting.

She grunts as a reply. It still hurts a lot.

We hobble on a little longer until we reach the doors at the end of the hallway, only to be faced with the realization that we need to go back down the stairs that we just took to get here. I cast a glance at the nearby elevator; it’s barred with a sign stating that it is out of service. “Dammit.”

“Hnh?” I hear her wincing.

“No, it’s just…” I say, with a glance at the elevator. The next one is very far away, too. “It’s fine.”

Ritsu frowns and furrows her brows before glancing away.

I push the staircase doors open with my foot, we hobble inside and look down the stairwell. “Hang on tight,” I warn her as I take the first step.

“I-I can walk, alright?” Ritsu speaks up, her irritation somewhat betrayed by the trembling in her voice. She tries to pull up the arm that I’ve been using to prop her up, but I immediately grab her hand to stop her. A brief glance shows that her feet are on the floor, yes, but her knees are still wobbling visibly.

“Don’t worry about it,” I try to reassure her. A part of me is already tired of this but I shut it up.

Ritsu frowns. “I…” she starts, and then sighs. Okay, another try. I step forward.

She puts her foot forward at the same time, and immediately I pull myself and her back, thinking that we’re going to stumble forward. “Okay, fine,” I relent. “After me, alright?”

She looks at me, then looks away. I can’t help but notice that her irritation earlier has mostly faded away now, replaced with concern. Concern on how the hell we’re going to get down? Yeah, I understand that. “…Alright,” she mumbles.

One more try. I take the first step. She follows, carefully. My eyes keep watch on both where my own feet will land as well as hers. The way she plants her feet, as if each time she put her weight on them, her knees might buckle again, is incredibly concerning.

I’ve only known her for a few days, but seeing her in such a state makes me worry. Is this what she has to deal with on occasion? It started with that bottle. She could have told me that she wanted to open the damn thing; I would have done it. Is it because she still distrusts me a bit? Considering the rumors about her as Tsubaki and Mao told me, it makes sense that she distrusts people in general. In a way, I should have thought of that and opened the bottle to begin with before giving it to her.

Then again, how would I know this is her disability?

Her weight is really starting to get to me now. Adding to the problem is the lack of ventilation in a summer afternoon in this stairwell. My right hand holding tight to hers, I use my arm to quickly wipe a bead of sweat off of my forehead as we hobble down each step.

When we finally reach the landing where the stairs turn the other way and resume their path down, I have to stop. Carefully I let Ritsu sit on the narrow alcove of the tall windows, before crouching down to take a breath. Deep breaths, old lad. Instinctively my hand presses against the sternum; I can almost feel the slight differences in my heartbeat’s rhythm. If I had kept going, there was a non-zero chance I might have fallen unconscious, at least momentarily, like after Emi collided with me the other day.

Okay. Great. I really am this out of shape, huh. I look down the staircase; just one more ramp, and then… I don’t know exactly where the infirmary is.

Time is passing too. Come on. Get back up, Ritsu needs help.

I feel an arm over my shoulder and a hand gripping on my shirt. Ritsu is trying to stand up so she can resume our arrangement. She notices me looking and asks, stammering, “Are… are you sure you’re fine?”

Ritsu is holding on to my shoulder, despite her knees wobbling from her slowly fading paralysis, as she stares at me. There is that look of concern on her again, but she is staring right at me, my face, my eyes. The light shines through the locks of hair her hairband has pushed aside, now hanging in front of her as she leans forward. I notice the branching scars along the back of her free, formerly wrist-bound hand. They look like tree branches. And despite that, she’s gingerly reaching it to my forehead and gently, just barely touching it, to brush away some leftover perspiration.

Is this what she was concerned about? Not the fact we just came up with a way to get down the stairs without stumbling forward? But me?

…Had it been Tsubaki, or anyone else, I would’ve pushed them away.But I can’t push away this.

A part of me wants to lash back.I don’t know why I’m not. I stopped Tsubaki. I wanted to punch the doctor. I yelled at Takumi.The same Takumi I told her was… my childhood friend.

Even as her arms and fingers are trembling, even when she’s in pain, Ritsu is looking at me with those eyes, is asking me if I’m alright.

I…

I manage to stammer out a question. “Wh… why are you looking at me like that?”

That manages to break whatever spell struck her, and she immediately retracts her arm and turns away, her knee stumbling in the attempt to make the move. I step forward to compensate so she doesn’t fall.

Enough of that. Pain and exhaustion be damned, I need to get her to the infirmary. That’s why I’m here, for goodness’ sake. “I’m alright, if you wanna know,” I mention offhandedly as we start hobbling our way to the next set of stairs.

We resume our agreed footwork, finally making our way to the ground floor. I push the door open with my foot and enter the stone-brick hallway again. Ritsu points with her free hand at one of the doors we passed by and at its placard tacked on the wall. I push aside the notion of how I missed this and focus on this last stretch.

Once we arrive, I knock on the door, and there is a familiar voice.

There are still a couple points of punctuation wrong. :p

Talmar wrote: ↑Thu Jan 25, 2024 5:28 am

the bottle,… this,

Talmar wrote: ↑Thu Jan 25, 2024 5:28 am

all.Shoot.

Talmar wrote: ↑Thu Jan 25, 2024 5:28 am

She furrow her brows

Fuck Google Docs.