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kosherbacon wrote:

GG Crono wrote:*whacks with rolled-up magazine* No! Bad Kosher! No killing off difficult characters! If you killed everyone who gave you trouble, there'd be no-one left.

Don't worry, everyone will live, at least in the foreseeable future.

Unlike my characters. But don't worry, everyone doesn't die.

Ah, reading this calmed me down quite a bit. I was going to go mad before this, my mind is so goddam screwed up by Kagetsu Tohya... One minute you think you get the idea what the f*** is going on with this paradox it turns around to become three-sided. Time is NOTHING, and that peaceful music is so right, so hypnotizing, you know it's so wrong to the point I want to crash the computer, the hell with this paradox stuff, everything is so confusing... That's not even the right word to describe... I need a drink...

So St. Pfil's only actual lesbian so far is nuts. Unfortunate implications? Hardly. Everyone at the school is some kind of not-right in the head.

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Nights of Guilt
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-Three months after I met her.-

When I returned from the pharmacy window, I looked into the little plastic cup and grinned. Four pills smiled back at me, glad that they weren't going to be eaten that day. I had colorful, happy looking pills. The little blue pentagons are lamotrigine, they're supposed to keep me leveled off. The orange circles are quetiapine, they keep me from killing everyone. The green ovals are sertaline, they keep me from killing myself or obsessing to death. And the pink ones shaped like Hello Kitty are multivitamins, they keep my piss yellow.

I chewed the life out of Miss Kitty and dumped the rest into a sandwich bag. I haven't needed drugs for nearly three months. Also, I've been attending therapy with increasing infrequency. In fact, I haven't gone in like a month. The therapist didn't seem like he'd trip out over it. Apparently my drugs, hah, were working and I was making lots of progress.

The truth was, I didn't need those things because I had something better. Instead of poisoning myself, I found a new means of stability. For some people, it's an engrossing hobby or career, for others, it's religion, for me, it was love.

I was in love with my best friend.

After saving the pills for a special occasion- don't ask me what, I still don't know- I brushed my hair, put on a name tag, and set out to reintroduce myself to Michi for the day.

The first half of each day we spend together is spent reminding Michi who I am for her benefit. Even though it's almost always the same, it's not as tedious as it sounds. Sometimes I mix things up a bit and throw in something about me being a former stripper or an errant Yakuza princess. By the way, I'm neither.

The second half of our days are made for me, we go and do something different to make that day new and unique from the rest. The innocent times we had for my sake made the chore of reminding her who I was every day worth it and then some. It was during the afternoons and evenings that I slowly realized that I was in love with Michi.

You'd think that having a reset button every day would make our friendship boring, but for reasons I don't fully understand, things remained interesting. Maybe it's some Schrodinger's Cat quantum shit, or maybe a little something of me survives the eraser that blots out Michi's mind every night.

Either way, we have something real, I just knew it.

That night, we just relaxed, sprawled on on her bed, and tried our hand at girl-talk. It sure was difficult since naturally, she's never been in a relationship that could've lasted longer than eighteen hours and I... well, I'll get into that in a moment.

“I'm not even sure if I'm a virgin,” she joked. “In fact, I could be married and not even know it.”

“Wake up with any rings on your fingers?”

She answered with a shrug. Of course she wouldn't know that either unless she woke up with one today.

“How about you? Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

“I've... been with people. Nobody ever lasted with me. They might like me when I'm cute and cuddly but when I lose my shit, they're gone.”

“I'm sorry. What kind of boys do you like anyway?”

I rolled over and looked into her eyes. They were so trusting, so accepting. Still, I had to build up the courage to tell her the truth.

“Michi, we're friends, right?”

“So you say,” she teased.

“I'm serious. Right now, do you feel that you trust me and care for me as a friend?”

“I do, believe me. I get a little mixed up at first but I know we're friends. Now what is it?”

“Do you promise to not hate me?”

“Unless you're a murderer or something heinous, I promise.”

“I'm not interested in boys.”

“Oh. Well, that's okay, I'm not either. With school and all the extra cramming I need to remember, I don't really have time for...”

“No, that's not what I meant. I prefer girls.”

After dumping that on Michi, I backed off and tried making myself as small as possible. I unclenched my eyes and saw that she was laughing at how terrified I was looking. I should've known better. This was Michi I was talking to, not some judgmental stranger who was going to bite my head off.

“Relax, there's nothing wrong with that.”

“So... you're not weirded out or anything? I mean, people will think you're a lesbian too.”

“I'm sure people think a lot of things about me, but if anyone says anything bad, I'll just forget about it, no problem.”

I relaxed and inched closer to her. We really did have something together. Had I known that she was so accepting, I would've told her I was gay months ago. The way she is, it wouldn't have mattered if she wasn't anyway.

“So, Yasu, do you have a girlfriend?”

“No, but there is a girl I like.”

“Oh? Tell me about her.”

Her face was so comforting, loving, and I knew that she was going to be okay with what I had to say, so I decided to skip the words and go straight for the action.

I sat up to look her in the eyes and took her hands in my own, making her exhale with surprise. She was paralyzed with shock, but I couldn't stop myself. Natural momentum carried my lips to hers. I could feel the moisture from her mouth against mine. She didn't flinch or jerk away. Surely, she felt the same.

I opened my eyes after pulling away. Instead of bliss, her face was filled with confused fright. As soon as I let go of her hands, she yanked them up to her face and covered her mouth while simultaneously wiping me off.

“Michi, I'm sorry...”

“N-No, it's fine. I um, I don't know what to say.”

“You don't feel the same for me, do you?”

“I don't know,” she said, shaking her head. “This is all very new to me. I don't even know what it's like to be in a relationship, much less with a girl.”

“Can you see yourself with a girl?”

“Honestly? No. No, I can't. I'm sorry.”

Good going, dumb-ass. I freaked out my only real friend by kissing her. Much worse, Michi's probable first kiss was stolen by a lesbian whom she didn't even care for. I'll bet Michi really was straight. Who the hell was I to try changing that part of her?

“Hey, Yasu... please don't cry,” she said, scrambling across the room for a tissue.

“I can't help it. I'm sorry, so sorry.”

“Please, don't be. It's all just a misunderstanding.”

“I-I should go,” I said, getting off the bed and gathering my things.

I didn't like my feelings being written off as a misunderstanding, but I had no right to bitch about it.

“I understand,” she said, handing me a tissue.

I looked back at her as I left the room, she was just as kind looking as before, but now I knew that her face had no love behind it. I was an idiot for assuming otherwise.

“Yasu,” she said, “I don't hate you.”

...

-Three months and a day after I met her.-

I swallowed my heart and took a deep breath. I patted down my hair to make sure there wasn't any lint in it and knocked on the door. I had to see for myself if my friendship with Michi survived the night. I might not be able to just discard my feelings but I don't want to lose her.

I wondered if I could get away with asking her out again. No, that was a messed up thought. I shouldn't put her through that again.

“Hello,” she said, inquisitively looking at me and the name tag I wear for her, and comparing my face to the picture on her dresser.

“...Yasu? Hi, um, how are you?”

“I'm doing well,” I lied. No I wasn't.

We carried on with our introductions like we do every day. When she got around to asking what we did yesterday, I told her that we “just hung out.”

All was well, all was forgiven, and all was forgotten. Things were back to normal between us, if you can call what we have together normal.

...

-Three months and six days after I met her.-

I drifted through the day with my heart pounding. I could feel myself slipping again. Try as hard as I might, I couldn't abandon my use of Michi as an emotional crutch without falling into a depressed stupor.

On the way back from dinner, I kept falling behind Michi, dragging my feet. I couldn't bear to look her in the face without thinking of violating her emotionally or physically.

“Are you getting tired?” she asked, snatching me by the hand.

I felt my blood run cold as she gently stroked my hand with her fingers as we walked. If she remembered how I confessed to her earlier that week, she wouldn't have held my hand like that. She'd know not to.

But if she remembered, then she probably wouldn't go anywhere near me, knowing how I felt. I couldn't just add “Hi Michi, I'm Yasu Arima. You don't know me but I'm a lesbian and I'm in love with you. In fact, I masturbated while thinking about you this morning.” to my daily introduction to her.

After nervously receiving a hug goodbye from her, I took refuge in my room and even pushed my bed in front of the door so I could freak out in peace. I started to hyperventilate as my mind got swept away and thrown over a waterfall. I needed something, ANYTHING to keep from going completely over the edge, so I grabbed at the nearest branch to keep myself afloat.

And it was Michi.

My panic attack wound down around three in the morning. Wondering what kind of retard-strength I had earlier, I struggled to move my bed out of the way so I could exit my room. I plugged up the drain of a running bathroom sink and filled up the basin, then dunked my head inside.

The water was cold, turbulent, and murky, just like the world. In a universe where everyone has to watch out for themselves, I had to be willing to sacrifice Michi's innocence to save my sanity.

“Sorry Michi,” I said to myself as I made my decision. I tricked her into my being my friend and it worked. Tricking her into loving me should be just as easy.

...

-The day it happened.-

Again, I found myself nervously standing at Michi's door. Instead of awaiting forgiveness, I was mentally preparing myself for the strangest, most perverse thing I've ever done.

“Hi... Yasu,” she said.

“Hey,” I greeted with a forced smile, presenting the box of chocolates I bought at the school book store. “Are you ready for our date?”

“Our... date?”

“Yep. I'm your girlfriend.”

Michi looked understandably confused, but shrugged it off and took the candies inside to leave in her room while we went out.

“How long have we been dating, Yasu?”

“Since I asked you out earlier this week.”

“Oh, okay.”

And there you have it. Just as easily as I stole a friend, I stole myself a girlfriend. I bluffed my way through a brief history of our relationship so far.

Our date wasn't much different than our usual outings as friends. We saw a movie, had an early dinner, talked at the park until we got kicked out, then returned to her room. It made me wonder how exactly our relationship would be outwardly different from a friendship if it was real.

While my machinations molded Michi to make her emotionally my own, my libido set out to make her mine in body.

“Have we ever kissed before?” she asked, seeing that my hand was as moist as her own.

“Yeah, plenty of times.”

We shuffled closer together on the bed and kissed. It felt just as forbidden and groundbreaking as the first time I ever kissed a girl, maybe even more so. Unlike my first kiss with Michi, which felt so right, this felt so wrong.

I swallowed my guilt and laid her down with me, keeping our lips together. Without any prompting, she opened her lips to receive me and I probed her mouth to teach her inexperienced tongue how to kiss. Soon, we were clumsily devouring each other's face, groping wildly at each other. I ran my hands along her chest and squeezed, feeling almost nothing under the padding of her bra. Wow, she was flatter than I expected. I could tell she had long, and I do mean long nipples, though.

“Yasu,” she asked, catching her breath and wiping spit from her face, “have we had sex before?”

“No.”

Tears appeared in her eyes. I heard her swallow a heavy thought. She grabbed me around the shoulders and held me close to her. I heard her cracking up, beginning to sob.

“I wish I could remember this.”

Suddenly, the back of my heart was struck by a sledgehammer. I was about to steal the virginity of a girl who wouldn't know it the next day. Her touching expression of regret twisted me up inside and I had no choice but to stop what I was doing.

“W-Why are you stopping? It's okay, really.”

“No, I'll wait till your memory gets better or something. I want you to enjoy memories of this in the future,” I said, laying back down.

“But what if I don't get better?”

“Then I'll just wait forever.”

We spent the rest of the evening doing nothing, sweet nothing. When the time for lights out approached, I got ready to leave while she did some last minute homework revisions or something.

“So I was wondering,” she asked, putting some notebooks away in her closet, “would you like to sleep over tonight?”

“Are you sure? I mean, if you're not ready to do it, then I don't want to...”

“I meant sleep over. I want to know what it's like to not wake up alone.”

“Oh. Yeah, I knew that.”

After brushing my teeth and gathering things for the night, I returned to her room and saw that she was all ready for bed, wearing a long night shirt. Of course, those crazy nipples of hers were poking through like Hershey's Kisses. I gotta see those someday.

My pajamas for the evening consisted of worn out tank top and my panties. I considered wearing my usual sleepwear, which is nothing, but after telling Michi I wouldn't have my way with her, it'd be rather counterproductive.

When she killed the lights, I laid there next to her, wondering where my boundaries were. My quick scheme for emotional support had gotten me into a tangled mess. I had gotten everything I wanted. I tricked Michi into being my girlfriend and she was willing to put out. So why did I feel so awful?

Michi rolled over after I had assumed she had fallen asleep. I slammed my eyes shut and pretended to be asleep since I had no idea what to say without provoking a heartbreaking response from her.

“Goodnight Yasu, I love you.” she said after planting a gentle kiss on my lips.

After she started snoring- yeah she does snore, it's a cute one, though -I planned my escape. When she first woke up that morning, I was nothing to that girl. Even when I first saw her that day, I started out only as a “friend” according to a sheet of paper. Yet, by the end of the night, I was her girlfriend whom she loved. I had taken everything good and pure away from the girl whose innocence was renewed every day since she was twelve.

I had realized the horrific potential of my lies. I felt like that dude who invented the atomic bomb. Now, I am become Yasu, destroyer of hearts.

Silently, I slipped out of bed and bundled together everything I came in with. After that, I swiped the photo, which now read “Yasu Arima, My Girlfriend” off of the dresser mirror and stuffed it into the empty candy box. I wasn't going to let this poor girl get duped into waking up a lesbian when she wasn't one before. In a few hours, she would wake up and everything would be back to the way it was before she met that crazy bald-headed bitch.

I left, never to come back. The morning would soon return to wipe her slate clean and bury my sins.

...

-The day after I left her.-

The day began with me drifting sideways out of bed roughly around sunrise. Not too early, not too late. It was an overcast day that filled the whole world with an appropriate shade of gray.

I drifted over to the bathroom for my morning routine and looked in the mirror. Three months worth of hair had grown out of my head. The woman in the mirror was Michi's girlfriend... no. The woman in the mirror was a rapist who took advantage of her only friend and seduced her with lies and fake memories. Not even that, Michi wasn't even that woman's friend. Michi was a stranger who was kidnapped and brainwashed by a psycho who wanted to play God and screw with her feelings.

That woman in the mirror had to die. I grabbed my electric razor and erased her out of existence. After a few short minutes, things were back to their fucked up normal state they were in before we met. Michi was free to live on her own without anyone preying on her, while I was back to well... whatever the hell I was doing before I met Michi.

Everything was back to normal. On my arm was a faint scar that started healing when I met her. I considered opening up that wound again for the full reset button effect but I feared that if I restarted that injury and subsequent healing process, I'd be tempted to seek out Michi again and relive the whole thing.

Healing, eh? That's what it was all about. Since I met Michi, I got a little less crazy. Less highs, less lows, less episodes. She stabilized me, made me better. Michi was the best drug I ever found. Like what the man tells you about drug addiction, you only hurt the ones you love.

So... what was there to do that day? Um, I guess I needed to eat, but I wasn't hungry. I probably had to take a piss too but I didn't feel like getting off the bedroom floor. And school? Hah. That day just wasn't one of those days for school. I kept the curtains closed, keeping the room lit with a nice dark blue tint.

If I kept that up, I'd probably dissolve my way into oblivion like those monks who would meditate their way into being mummified corpses. Enlightenment could wait. I needed some sort of anchor to keep me in the living world so I took a box of push pins out of my hiding place. Starting dead center on my breastbone, I nailed myself into reality with a circular array of pin pricks. Before long, I had a nice pattern of pins stuck into my chest, looking like some arcane medicine circle or mandala. I pressed the center pins deeper until some of them hit bone. Yes, I was still alive.

After admiring the pattern in my mirror, I felt satisfied that I was capable of carrying on. With a firm swipe downwards, I brushed off all the thumbtacks. Ow, that kind of hurt. I blotted out the blood streams with a tissue soaked in iodine and threw on a dark undershirt to hide any stains that would seep through to my uniform. It was almost noon, a good a time as any to head out to school.

I greeted the dorm mom on the way out. She was on her way to my room to wake me up. She looked at me worriedly for a moment then waved me on, happy that I was actually out and about.

School was fantastically mediocre. I sat through it, pissed off my teachers a little less than I usually do, and valiantly half-assed my way though schoolwork, sometimes falling asleep mid pencil-stroke.

On my way back to my room to continue merely existing, I took the elevator down to the ground floor in the main building, being too lazy to throw myself down some stairs and hopefully die.

While allowing the smell of urine to soak into my nose, a ghost of a girl jumped in after me, wedging her arm into the door as it closed. She took up the opposite corner of the elevator car and smiled at me politely.

It was Michi.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Surprisingly, my heart didn't skip any beats or get anxious while I was in there with her. And why should it? She wasn't my girlfriend, nor even my friend. We didn't even know each other. We were just strangers sharing a lift.

“I'm Michi. What's your name?”

“I'm Yasu.”

Maybe I did still feel something for her. I couldn't bear to tell her to piss off like I would anyone else.

“Nice meeting you, Yasu,” she said as we split off into separate directions on the ground floor.

That night, I discovered that the ceiling of my dorm room has 6,347 popcorn granules embedded in the texture. That's two hundred less than I found last time I counted. I wonder where they went.

...

-Two days after I left her.-

I woke up at four in the morning, just in time to start staring at my clock. Some twenty eight thousand eight hundred apathetic seconds passed until my babysitter came by to drag me off to continue my slow death on the outside world.

“Yasu,” the dorm mom asked, while dabbing ointment on some of the pinpricks on my chest that had gotten infected, “what happened?”

“Nothing.”

Asking me what happened with my life is like asking a drop of water in the ocean what his name is and where he's been all his life. It's pointless. What happened to me? Life happened. Life happens to me every day.

“I know that's not true. You were getting better the past few months. Happy, even.”

“What are you talking about?”

About a third of the time, I'm so happy I need horse tranquilizers to bring me back down.

“I meant happier overall. You seemed more content, more stable.”

“Stuff happened. What are you, my counselor now?”

“That is part of my job description. Especially since you haven't been seeing your real counselor lately, nor have you been taking all your pills.”

The dorm mom held up my emergency suicide fund of pocketed pills. I wondered how she found them. Actually, I wasn't really planning on killing myself, although I was prepared for that possibility. I told the old lady how I managed to accumulate them.

“I've been saving those, since I didn't really need them lately. And the therapist said I was getting better so I stopped showing up so often.”

“I see. So something good DID happen lately. A relationship perhaps?”

Okay, fine. I give up.

“Yeah. It's over now, though.”

“You poor thing. Look, how about this. You either go back to counseling and drugs or you go straighten out your personal life. I don't like having to pull you out of bed like this every afternoon.”

“What's in it for me?”

“I'll throw out these pills you've been stashing and forget everything, instead of reporting you to the disciplinary board.”

“Ugh, fine.”

The last thing I wanted was to have security guards search my room twice a day. Counseling and pills, it is.

“Why do you care anyway?”

“I don't like seeing young women like yourself spending the best years of their lives wasting away instead of going out in the world and living.”

By the time I got out of the shower, class was pretty much over. My homeroom teacher wasn't in his office so I went straight to the counseling wing to get that shit over with.

While waiting for the quack to return from lunch, I paced around in the halls, then stopped to read the bulletin board. Occasionally, some other student would join me to see what was so interesting, then leave. I started to get antsy when a fellow gawker stared with me while I was there for an extended period of time.

Just as I was in the middle of reading every tear-off phone number on an ad soliciting a job stuffing envelopes and mailing them, I felt a moist hand grab onto mine.

“Hey, what the hell are you...”

Mid-confrontation, Michi grabbed me by the back of the head and kissed me. After a while, she broke contact to whisper something to me while touching her forehead against mine.

“I remember this. I remember how this feels on my lips.”

“What...”

“I don't remember your name, I'm sorry. But I remember your lips... and how good it feels to be next to you. And how lonely I am without you.”

“I'm Yasu. My name is Yasu Arima.”

“I like that name. I'm sorry for forgetting it.”

“It's okay. H-How did you find me?”

“I woke up yesterday feeling empty and I didn't understand why. I kept walking around lost trying to figure out why I was hurting so bad. It... didn't go away until I saw you in the elevator.”

“Wait, you remember stuff from yesterday?”

“Only the feeling of being alone and lost. When you're done here, I would like to show you something.”

“I can go now. There's really nothing for me here.”

A few minutes earlier, I was an immovable stump. Suddenly I was being spirited away by an impossible dream. Entering her room once more, I remembered why I left her to begin with.

“Michi... I can't stay here with you. I'm sorry. Please forget about me.”

“I can't. I love you.”

“No, you don't. It's all a lie. I tricked you into being my friend, into going out with me. It's not...”

“Yasu,” she sternly said, grabbing onto my shoulders, “I may have been born yesterday, but I'm not stupid. I can tell what's real or not if it's in my heart. Now let me show you what I brought you here for.”

Michi opened up her closet and showed me a stack of notebooks on the floor inside, with post-it notes sticking out like bookmarks, bearing labels such as “Teachers, Classmates, Family, People from town,” and other groups of people. On the very top was a notebook dedicated to one person, whose name was written on the cover, surrounded by a heart. My name.

“What is this?” I asked, just as a letter torn from a notepad fell out.

The note was addressed to me in big, bold letters.

“Dear Yasu,

Inside this notebook is us. It contains every day we had together since I first thought of keeping track.”

“I keep track of people and events in my life with these notebooks,” Michi revealed. “Usually, I fill them out at the end of the day and I read over them in the morning. Today, I found this note for myself on my dresser.”

I unfolded the note and read it out loud.

“The loneliness and heartache you feel was there yesterday as well. You met a girl in the elevator yesterday who made you feel better. She is in Agate class and has a shaved head. Don't read your diaries until later, when you have her with you.”

“Now read it, please,” she requested.

I flipped through the pages and read some of the passages to myself. Michi really had been keeping track from day one. The first three entries were taped to the inside cover, torn from a different diary of interpersonal relationships that progressed beyond a day.

“I ate lunch with a girl today. Her name is Yasu Arima. She is kind of strange looking but very nice...”

“...Yasu got mad at me today because I forgot her name. I didn't get a chance to review things from yesterday and I wanted to explain...”

The hatchet I buried in the backyard long ago had been discovered by none other than my own victim. I couldn't help but tear up.

“Don't stop,” she said. “Keep reading.”

“It turned out that I didn't have to apologize. Yasu came to my class today and now we're friends.”

The floodgates opened and I cried openly. I still don't deserve Michi. I flipped forward a few pages before the entry I was on got too soaked.

“Yasu is really hyper and happy today. We went into the park and ran for hours before we got tired...”

“...Yasu is sad today. She won't say what's wrong and she won't let me hug her.”

“Yasu is happy again. Something good must have happened to her that day. We went to go see a movie...”

Scared of what I might find, I slowly skipped to the dated entries that contained my worst crimes.

“Today, I found out that Yasu is a lesbian. She confessed to me today by kissing me and I couldn't accept. I really hurt her feelings but I don't know what I could have done...”

“...Yasu doesn't seem upset anymore. I don't know how to apologize for turning her down because I don't really remember what happened, but I'm glad we're friends again...”

I flipped forward a few more days and lost my breath.

“...I think I've fallen in love with Yasu. I don't know how, but this morning I felt confused and empty. When I saw Yasu, all I wanted to do was stay with her. I wanted to kiss her so bad, but all I could do was get her to hold my hand...”

“Yasu is now my girlfriend. I now understand how she felt before. I'm glad she still feels the same. I'm glad it happened this way. I would have been too scared to ask her out...”

With my world having gone upside-down, I bit the bullet and turned the page.

“I dont know what's going on. I woke up today all the way on the edge of my bed as if someone was there with me. My pillow smells like someone else. Was this Yasu? I saw her today. Her hair is gone and she looks depressed. She acted like she doesn't know me... I didn't know what to say so I just stood there. I don't think she wants to be my girlfriend anymore. I wonder what happened to us. Did we have a fight last night? I will leave a note on the dresser reminding me not to read this tomorrow morning. I need to know if my feelings for her are strong enough to still be here tomorrow.”

Having reached the end, I threw the book down and fell into Michi's arms.

“I've been so stupid, Michi. I thought I could use you and abuse you. You shouldn't be with...”

“You're right. I shouldn't. You deceived me and played with my heart thinking that there weren't going to be any consequences.”

Wait, what? She's not supposed to agree with me! But whatever, I am a rotten bitch and I deserve to die alone. I slowly lifted my way up and got ready to leave.

“I'm sorry to have toyed with you, Michi,” I said, with a pained smile of relief that one feels after confessing to a gruesome crime. “I'll leave you alone now.”

“Hey,” Michi got up from kneeling on the floor and grabbed me by the arm. “I've known all along what game you were playing with me. Sort of. But I still want to be with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to. You didn't fool me into caring for you. What I feel is real and it came from inside me. And you know what? I used you too. It's so hard for me to be friends with anyone the way I am. But with what you were doing, you did all the work for me. I was spoiled.”

“Michi...”

“Would you like to know a secret?”

“What is it?”

“My memory has been getting better because of you. Before, every day was brand new with almost nothing new between waking up and having my accident, at least that's what my diaries say. But now, I feel like a little bit more of yesterdays keep trickling into my mind every time I wake up, I just know it.”

“I'm glad, but I don't think it has anything to do with me.”

“And I want to help you get better too. I know that you've been in a lot of pain since you broke up with me and that you were also hurting before we started hanging out.”

“Hey, don't you go about taking credit for...”

“It's obvious, Yasu. We need each other to get better. So please, come back to me.”

As soon as I surrendered, I lost all will to object to anything Michi wanted. I owed her for everything I put her through. She walked me to her bed and we started making out, even more aggressively than before. She must have remembered something of last time because there was no clumsiness in her technique. She wasn't being shy or timid, she was...

...reaching up my shirt. And playing with my boobs. Okay, I was fine with that...

Michi sucked the breath out of my chest through my nipples and stopped suddenly. Right when I about to sit up and ask why she stopped, I could feel cold tears on my chest.

“Yasu... why did you do this to yourself?” she asked, carefully patting down the array of scabs on my chest.

“It's because I was lost. I needed to keep myself grounded in the real wold. It's hard to explain...”

“Did you do this when we were still friends?”

“No. I didn't need to.”

Michi came up to my face and looked right at me with her teary eyes.

“Promise me you won't hurt yourself anymore. Please.”

“I don't know how to keep that promise.”

“Please. For me. If keeping me is what it takes, then use me, lie to me, do what ever you want, just don't do this to yourself anymore.”

“It doesn't work like that, Michi. I'd rather hurt myself than hurt you.”

“But...”

“I tell you what, I'll do my best to hurt neither of us. We have a long way to go before we can be normal. Would you like to go together?”

“Yes, but only if you grow your hair out. I miss it, I think.”

That night, we filled out her diary together.

...

-The day after we got back together-

The alarm woke me up at four in the morning, as usual. Why the hell do I insist on setting it so damned early when I rarely even get out of bed after turning it off? I eased my way back into consciousness while still playing with the knobs of an old fashioned radio I was adjusting in my sleep.

Wait, I don't have a radio like that in my room. Then what was I...

“Ughn...” Michi grumbled while rubbing her sore nipples, having been woken up mid-snore by my ungodly early alarm. My hands jumped back from adjusting her volume and tuning.

Then came the real moment of truth. Would our relationship survive her forgetting its real beginning? And how freaked out would she be to wake up in a strange room next to a stranger who sleeps in the buff?

Instinctively, her arms flailed around until she managed to bludgeon my alarm clock into silence. After rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she sat up and jerked her head back and forth, frantically trying to figure out where she was. Unsurprisingly, she forgot all about us again. I braced myself for the most awkward self-introduction I've ever given to her.

Her wide-eyed confusion was making her short of breath. I saw a panic attack brewing in her face as she looked right at me and suddenly... she laid back down and gave me a kiss.

“Good morning, Yasu.”

“Michi...”

Yeah, I was pretty shocked. Michi saw this and covered her mouth guiltily.

“S-Sorry! Was... I-I should've asked first. Are we on kissing terms?”

“Yeah,” I smiled.

“Did we have sex?”

“No,” I replied, easing up on my overzealous covering up with the sheets, “I just sleep this way.”

“Are we a couple?”

“Yup. Well, we were but then we kind of broke up. We just made up last night.”

“Oh,” she asked nervously, “what happened between us?”

I gave her a hug to reassure her that everything was okay and picked up the diary off my bedside table.

...

-Some time after we got back together.-

Michi let go of my hand as soon as it was over. Once the small amount of blood was cleaned up, her bandage was applied over the same spot on over the heart where mine was. She was still clammy and shivering. As morbid as it sounds, I'm glad I've developed a higher tolerance for pain.

“You know, this is really bad luck,” I said as we left the tattoo parlor. “Getting your lover's name permanently inked on is just asking for it.”

“Well, look on the bright side. If I hit my head and get worse, I can always pretend it's a name tag and start calling myself 'Yasu.'”

“Only if you hit me first so I can be 'Michi.'”

“I'm glad you agreed to do this with me. Now, I'll remember you forever.”

Silly girl. By then, she already knew who I was and what I was to her every time she woke up. However, I suppose there was no harm having extra reminders.

“Hey, I've been meaning to ask you, would you happen to remember how you knew I was in Agate class after we broke up?”

“That's easy, the dorm mom probably told me. I've been telling her all about us.”

“Figures. I guess that's also how she knew I was in a relationship when I was acting stable.”

“Are you mad? We share a lot of things. She really helps me out.”

“No, it's fine. I've got nothing against her, In fact, I've always kind of considered her a respected adversary. I don't like her meddling in my shit, but I do put her through a lot. Are you guys friends or something?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that.”

“Then what?” I asked.

“She's my mother.”

“Wow. What a horrible mom.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She lets her daughter date a weirdo like me.”

-End-

kosherbacon wrote: “Are you guys friends or something?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that.”

“Then what?” I asked.

“She's my mother.”

“Wow. What a horrible mom.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She lets her daughter date a weirdo like me.”

I lol'd

Great entry into the works of kosherbacon ^_^

Memento Girl made me melt into a puddle of diabetes juice.

One could cry reading this I guess. Masterpiece, really.

Glad you liked it so far. Quite relieved, actually, since the Michi/Yasu 2-parter is my favorite so far.

Coming soon: Kouta meets a chubby girl, Cindy's "host family" meets her new boyfriend, Yasu learns why she's crazy, Michi finds a dead body, Izumi visits her normal boyfriend's school, Aimi eats a popsicle, Wakana plays soccer, and a girl jumps in front of a train.

Sounds great! I love popsicles!

Today's my birthday. I present to you a plumper, a weeaboo, and some mommy-issues.

Sayuri is not a lesbian.

================================================================================================================================
Regression
================================================================================================================================

Aimi nervously guided the visitor down the halls of the boys' dorm building. She'd normally turn up her nose at girls like her but this one was posing a genuine threat.

“Hey, Murakami, how much do you weigh, anyway?” Aimi asked.

“Like seventy-seven. Why?”

“My doctor says I should go find a 'fatspiration,'” Aimi said, thinly veiling an insult as an excuse.

Even though Akane was noticeably shorter than Aimi, she weighed nearly twice as much. At one hundred fifty-two centimeters tall and seventy-seven kilos, the girl was exactly Kouta's type. She was serious competition.

“Thanks for taking your time to show me around,” Akane chirped with a bow when they reached Kouta's room.

Instead of returning the joviality, Aimi grabbed Akane by the shoulder and dug her nails into her.

“Listen, I'm only going to say this once,” she threatened. “If you so much as give my boyfriend ANYTHING beyond a handshake, nobody will find your remains. Got it?”

“No, no,” Akane nervously rebutted, “it's not like that. I could never be with Kou...”

“I know WHO you are, Murakami. If there was nothing in your heart, you wouldn't come back to him, would you?”

“Aimi,” the voice from within griped as the door opened, “who are you threatening today... Akane?!”

“Hello, Kouta,” Akane said with a deadpan wave, leaving Aimi wondering whether she really was that cold to Kouta or if she was heeding Aimi's threats. “May I come in?”

“Sure, I suppose.”

Akane slammed the door behind her, before Aimi could invite herself inside. Aimi had some choice words concerning boyfriendly etiquette to share with Kouta once he resurfaces.

Aimi debated whether or not she should use her copy of the building's master key to meddle but decided against it. She had to return to overseeing Visitors' Day activities by herself since Izumi was busy entertaining her own family.

Inside, Kouta presented Akane with a chair, while he sat a safe distance away from her, on his bed. He dared not come any closer, as if invisible iron bars stood between them.

“You're looking well, Kouta,” she nervously said to break the silence.

“Th-Thanks.”

Several more minutes of tense silence filled the air, with Kouta purposely avoiding eye contact while Akane eyed him thoroughly.

“Akane, I'm so...”

“Kouta, please don't.” she interrupted. “Don't say you're sorry. I don't how how to take it and I don't know if I could accept it.”

Akane's spitefulness was well earned. She was the girl Kouta nearly killed after a botched love confession. Kouta welcomed the discomfort he felt as some small measure of penance. Even though he felt that he deserved anything Akane could dish out, he wanted to know why she braved visiting him.

“Why are you here, Akane?” he asked, trying to sound as soft and civilized as possible, a far cry from the raging brute she last saw.

“My brother is autistic,” she said. “My parents and I are checking out this school as a place to send him next year.”

“No, that's not what I meant. Why are you here, visiting me?”

“Why?” she answered. “To see if I can.”

Akane's cold words sent chills down his spine. His insides twisted with remorse.

“I see. Is there anything I can do...”

“No,” she interrupted again, “there is nothing you can do to make what you did to me go away. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to have both collarbones broken? And to get two nose jobs just to straighten out my face? Or to be on a liquid diet for three months?!”

Kouta met his accuser with a stone face.

“No,” he said. “I don't know how it feels.”

Akane continued to pierce into Kouta as he pulled his legs up to retreat onto the bed.

“What do you want from me?” he begged, looking away. “You said it yourself there's nothing I can do. You want me to be put away forever? I do too but they won't let that happen unless I do something even more horrible to someone else.”

“Nothing,” she answered. Evidently her visit was purely punitive, with no actual goal in mind.

“Kouta,” she said, breaking another long silence, “look at me.”

Kouta laid his weary eyes on her. Akane's expression had slowly shifted from hateful damnation to worried concern.

“Are you afraid of me, Kouta?”

“Yes.”

“No you aren't. You're scared of yourself. Well, I'm sure you know that too but this is also part of it.”

“Well, yeah. They say I'm better but I know I still have what you remember in me. Believe me, Akane, it scares the shit out of me.”

“It shouldn't. Do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I'm not scared of you anymore. It took a long time to build up the courage to come here, but now that I am here, I can tell you that I'm no longer afraid.”

“Why not?”

“I can feel it. I know that the one who hurt me is no longer. Once you get over yourself and quit with the self pity act, you'll be free to go back to being normal again. Cut the crap and live, for God's sake.”

“Easy for you to say. Why are you even bothering to cheer me up?”

“Because I don't hate you. I don't know if I can ever forgive you, nor do I think I could be your friend again, but I don't hate you.”

“You should. It's your right to.”

“Yeah, I know. And you do deserve it, but I guess I'm just dumb like that,” Akane laughed grimly.

“Uh, thanks.”

Akane slowly got up from her chair and nervously approached Kouta, fighting off vivid memories of her attack.

“I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid,” she mumbled to herself, pushing through the wall between her and Kouta.

“Get up,” she said. “I have to do this.”

Kouta cautiously got up and Akane wrapped her arms around his midsection and shivered as she hugged him.

“I don't have to live in fear anymore,” she creaked out as he gingerly hugged her back. “I can move on now. Thank you.”

Akane squeezed tighter, as hard as she could, before letting go.

On her way out, Akane gave Kouta a strained but genuine smile.

“Take care of yourself, Kouta. I'm glad you're doing well.”

“Thanks. You too.”

Before she closed the door, Akane cocked her head and examined Kouta, as if she was trying to find something else wrong with him.

“Your girlfriend is pretty and all, but she doesn't seem like your type.”

“Because she's skinny?”

“No, because she's a bit... a bit feisty.”

...

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Ito! You came all the way here to visit me?”

“Hello, Cindy,” Mrs. Ito mumbled after recovering from one of those overly affectionate foreign hugs.

Cindy excitedly yanked her boyfriend over to meet her “host family,” whom she had been staying with whenever she wasn't at school.

“Oba-chan, Oji-chan,” she said, exaggerating the pronunciation on the honorifics, “this is my boyfriend, Hiraku-kun.”

The Itos' eyes bulged out of their sockets as soon as they recognized the infamous boy from their neighborhood.

“Yes, yes, we know Hiraku,” Mrs. Ito said through her clenched teeth. “He and Mariko used to be inseparable as children. He was such a nice boy back then.”

Back in his hometown, Hiraku was equal parts legend and curse. His exploits were a poorly kept secret that parents of girls whispered about in fear.

“Hello, long time no see,” Hiraku said as he waved politely.

“Oh, wow! I didn't know you and Mariko-chan went that far back,” Cindy squealed.

Although Mariko and her tenants obviously never interacted directly, they were quite familiar with each other and were on good terms. For reasons nobody quite understood, her friends obliviously ignored their connection via Mariko's condition, as well as holes in their own personal histories. Even Cornelio was fully aware of the nature his body, yet it never dawned on him that he was anything but the man he saw himself as.

“Cindy, mind if I borrow your boyfriend for a moment?” Mr. Ito politely demanded as he grabbed Hiraku by the arm, leaving finger-shaped bruises on him.

“Yeah, sure, oji-chan.”

“What the hell are you doing to my little girl, boy?” Mariko's father grumbled. “Are you still going around fucking everything that moves?”

“No, Sir. I'm not like that anymore.”

“So what's this about you dating Cindy? Are you just using her?”

“We really are in a relationship.”

Mister Ito was dumbstruck. The predator from his hometown had weaseled his way into his daughter's world.

“Does Mariko know about this?”

“I'm dating her too.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Actually, Mariko and I got together first. Apparently that automatically made me everyone else's boyfriend.”

“Even Cornelio's?”

“Yes, him as well.”

Mariko's father found himself immobilized with indecision. It was hard enough dealing with the free will of one rebellious teenage girl, let alone five and a half simultaneously. Naturally, he searched for a good reason to go with the most natural reaction, which would be to beat Hiraku into a coma.

“What is Mariko to you, boy?

“I've fallen for her, sir.”

“Even with her condition?”

“Sir, I'm not the same kid you remember getting run out of town. I'm dating your daughter, all of her, but only her.”

“Tell me the truth. Is Mariko still innocent?”

“Yes, she is.”

The confidence with which Hiraku answered was too smooth. Like the words of a used car salesman, everything Hiraku says should come with fine print and disclaimers. Not knowing how to handle such a bizarre revelation, Hiraku was released. After saying goodbye to Mariko's parents and giving Cindy a kiss, he went off to meet up with his own family.

“Isn't he great?” Cindy asked.

“Yeah, he is something...” Mariko's mother answered.

Like a deployable whore-flag, a string of wrapped condoms rolled out of Cindy's backpack and flapped in the wind.

“THAT LITTLE SHIT IS DEAD!” Mr Ito wailed as he ran off to disembowel Hiraku. In a way, he considered all of Mariko's selves to be separate children and he chased with the rage of a father who just had all five daughters and one son violated.

“Dear! Your heart condition! Slow down!”

Cindy shrugged. She understood that the Itos cared about her, but she didn't quite get why Mariko's dad would care about her sex life.

“This is wrong, all wrong,” Mrs. Ito said into her handkerchief.

...

"Yasu!"

Michi's greeting jarred Yasu out of further contemplation of her fingernails. Only a few more months and she would've truly "gotten" them.

“They're here!”

“Who's here...?” she asked, before excitedly jumping out of bed and towards the open doorway. “Daddy!”

And in a flash, her mood turned hostile and indignant.

“And Sayuri...”

“H-Hello,” Yasu's mother said, shyly brushing away the bangs her face hid behind. She was just as Yasu remembered, but intangibly tired looking. Even with one word, her voice spoke volumes of her exhaustion.

“Why are you here, Sayuri?”

“I-I just wanted to visit you. Today is Visitors' Day, is it not?”

“Yeah, but we have one four times a year, you didn't have to come today. Or ever, really.”

Knowingly, Yasu's father decided to back out of the room, where his presence would only inflame things between Yasu and her estranged mother.

“Hey, Michi, why don't you show me around the school?”

“But she...” Yasu objected, not wanting to be left alone with a ghoul from her past.

“It's fine,” Michi replied, “I have a map.”

“W-Wait, no don't lea- AWW!”

Left all alone with a non-being, Yasu paced around confusedly before sitting down as far away as she could from Sayuri, who had taken a seat at the desk.

“So, uh. As you can see, I'm very much alive. I'm getting good grades and I haven't murdered anyone lately. You may leave now.”

“I'm glad to hear that. How do you like this school?”

“It's fine,” Yasu grumbled, sitting on the floor with her face hidden behind her knees.

“Are you and your father getting along okay?”

“We're fine.”

“And how's your health?”

“It's fine.”

“Are you making any friends?”

“Friends are fine.”

Yasu let the conversation's momentum fall flat on the ground. Her eyes peeked out from over her knees and saw that Sayuri had not yet left.

“Why are you still here?! Shouldn't you still be off in fuck-all Belgium or something with what's his name?”

“Daan and I parted ways a few years ago,” Sayuri flatly said, answering Yasu's question about her most recent husband. “Things weren't working too well after that so I came back to Japan a few months ago.”

“They actually let you back in here?”

“For the time being, I've been living with your grandparents. A classmate of mine from college was kind enough to find me a job in her office.”

“Okay, okay,” Yasu went on, twirling her hand in a “get it over with” gesture.

“And your father and I are dating again.”

“WHAT?!” Yasu jumped up, ready to run out of the door to chase after her father to knock some sense into him.

“Yasu, Yasu, please,” her mother pleaded, holding her back from escaping, “what's wrong with that?”

“W-Why are you doing this to us again?” Yasu cried, unzipping her blouse to escape Sayuri's grip.

“Yasu... what did you do to yourself?” Sayuri asked, shocked to find her daughter's arms covered in the outlines of unfinished tattoos.

“It's none of your business. It's none of your goddamned fucking business what I do to myself.”

“Of course it's my business. I'm your mother!”

“You lost the right to give a shit about me when you left. You really want to know why I'm covering myself with tattoos? It's so I don't cut myself. That's right, Mommy, I used to mutilate myself. I also used to smoke two or three packs a day before I came to this school. Now go pretend to care about that!”

“I-Is that what you think? I left because I didn't care? Is that what your father told you?”

“It's not what I think, it's what I KNOW. Daddy did his best to make it sound like it was his fault and tried making you look like the good guy but I know what happened.”

“It's not like that, I never stopped loving you and your father.”

“L-Liar,” Yasu wept out, her face twisting with anguish, “you're a fucking liar. The night before that big fat stupid boyfriend of yours took you away, you said that you couldn't handle me anymore. Don't deny it. I stayed up late that night and I heard you...”

“I...” Sayuri stuttered, cornered and without a quick answer, “I said that, but... I didn't mean that.”

“Take your time,” Yasu said with crossed arms, “this has gotta be good.”

“I said I couldn't handle you anymore because... I could barely handle myself.”

“Huh, wha?”

“Yasu, do you remember your ninth birthday?”

“Well, yeah. You cooked so much food that we had to start inviting our neighbors over to help us finish...”

“I did the cooking the night before, do you remember what I did on your actual birthday?”

“Well, uh...” Yasu's eyes rolled as she poked around the back of her head for memories. “Weren't you sick or something? Yeah, that's right. You came down with food poisoning I think.”

“No,” Sayuri confessed, “that's just what your father said. I locked myself in the bathroom that night because I was just so... I just didn't want to go outside.”

“What? What kind of stupid...”

“You know how it feels, don't you? When you come crashing down from a frenzy and all you want to do is stay in bed the whole day until you rot?”

“Oh,” Yasu smirked disbelievingly, “and you do too?”

“I do. Yasu... you and I are the same.”

“You're joking, right?”

Yasu got up to question her mother's story but fell back into her corner on weak knees.

“Just what kind of bullshit are you trying to pull on me?”

“When I was your age, they just called them 'moods.' Everyone thought that was just how my personality was. One day I'd be bouncing off the walls, flying through chores and homework to use up my energy, and the next day 'Sayuri is just having one of her moods.' When I met your father, I calmed down for a while.”

“And then?”

“When you were a little older, you might not remember this but our family was going through a lot. You father lost his job, we almost lost the house, and your uncle Hiroto died. It all happened so fast that I started to crack and fall back on my old ways.”

“And that makes things all better how?”

“It doesn't, Yasu. I know I can't give you the mother you needed. I just feel that you're old enough to know the truth.”

“The... The mother I needed? You know who has raised me more as a mother than you have? Everyone else! You know who taught me how to deal with monthly girl stuff? Dad. You know who taught me about sex and puberty? The school nurse. You know who last tucked me in bed when I was feeling bad? The dorm mom.”

Sayuri was effectively silenced.

“As you can see,” Yasu sobbed, “I've done just fine without you.”

Sayuri tried putting her arms around her daughter, but was swatted away harshly.

“Yasu, I left because I didn't want you to suffer from my illness. I didn't want to be a burden on you and your father any further.”

“Sounds more like an easy way out.”

“Would things have been different if I stayed? I saw that you were becoming like myself and I was sure that you'd only become sicker with such an unstable mother. I wanted you to grow up more normal than I have. And I didn't want your father to be stuck being a nurse for both of us.”

“H-How can you say that this is better? I'm going to school at a fucking mental hospital for God's sake!”

Sayuri plopped on the floor next to her daughter and slumped over, taking the same guarded pose as her.

“I can't. I'm sorry. I'll never know for sure that things would have been different. It just seemed like the best thing to do at the time.”

Yasu's mother ran her fingers through her short, bushy hair.

“What happened to your hair? It used to be so long and nice.”

“I got mad at it.”

“I see. Well, normally I'd think short hair looks horrible on girls but it looks nice on you.”

Sayuri gently picked up Yasu's chin to look her straight in the face and tried wiping way her tears.

“Red eyes and runny nose aside, you're looking healthy. Are you on any medication?”

“Only when I'm at my worst. They used to have me on all kinds of pills.”

“I'm glad. I've been on lithium and Prozac for the longest time and I can't help but feel that part of me has been extinguished forever.”

Yasu found herself not bothering to resist allowing her mother to put an arm around her.

“You know what I found out?” Sayuri revealed. “Pills can only do so much. Without a family to support you, there's no hope.”

“I could've told you that,” Yasu replied in a deadpan tone as a single tear found its way down her face and dripped off her chin. “It sucks being all alone.”

“I know, Yasu. I know. I was in no shape to help you before... and I still don't know if I'll be any good to you now but I'll do my best. I promise to be there for the good days and the bad.”

Yasu leaned into her mother's shoulder.

“I miss your good days, Sayuri.”

“Me too.”

“You've become quite beautiful, Yasu,” Sayuri resumed after a long pause. “I'm jealous.”

“Even with short hair and tattoos?”

“Especially with short hair and tattoos. Have you found yourself a boyfriend yet?”

“Yeah. Her name is Michi.”

“Michi... that Michi from earlier? Does your father know that you're this way?”

“Of course he does.”

“And he lets you see her? And what about these tattoos? Does he allow this?”

Yasu shrugged.

“I don't think it's a matter of him allowing it or not. It's more like... he knows that he couldn't stop me if I set my heart on something.”

“Hah,” her mother laughed, “we really wore him down, didn't we?”

“Yeah. We sure did, Sayuri.”

“You know, you can call me 'Mother' if you'd like.”

“I'm not ready to do that yet, Sayuri.”

“I understand. Now let's get ourselves calmed down so we can catch up with your father and that girlfriend of yours.”

“Alright,” Yasu replied with an exhausted chuckle. “You know, Sayuri, now I can really blame you for how I am.”

“I'm sorry. For what it's worth, I'm proud of who you've grown into and how you've managed.”

“I know,” Yasu said as she got up, helping her mother get on her feet. “Thank you.”

Sayuri still wasn't ready to be a mother, nor was Yasu ready to have one again. Maybe later...

These people don't have "issues" so much as they have subscriptions.

In any case, though, good work, as always.

kosherbacon wrote:“My brother is autistic,” she said. “My parents and I are checking out this school as a place to send him next year.”

Oh yeah, Happy Autistic Pride Day, everyone!

kosherbacon wrote:

kosherbacon wrote:“My brother is autistic,” she said. “My parents and I are checking out this school as a place to send him next year.”

Oh yeah, Happy Autistic Pride Day, everyone!

Wait, wha? O.o Autistic -pride- day??

What kind of crazed individual cooked up this little me-... Oh, wait, my kind of individual ">_>
Clarification: I have a mild form of an autism related disorder -_-" Not enough to prevent me from having 'normal' interactions with people, but enough of it to make it clear I'm 'different'.

This took a couple rewrites, but I finally am a little satisfied with my Shizune-expy at the expense of her Tourtette's. Her condition was annoying to write out and distracted from the character herself, so let's just say she's on new drugs and her therapy is working, eh?

The stories so far have taken place during the school year prior to Katawa Shoujo. Everyone, including the Yamaku squad, are still second-year students. This will lead to a St. Pfil's vs Yamaku confrontation at the end of the story.

================================================================================================================================
The Normal Kids
================================================================================================================================

Somewhere in the picturesque Japanese countryside, a trio of strangers stomped up a hill to visit a quaint and quirky boarding school. Unlike their own, the old-fashioned looking academy was a soothing, warm place of camaraderie, not a hectic off-balanced urban clinic to treat the byproducts of modern society.

“Seriously,” Aimi whined when she jumped off Kouta's back upon arrival at the front gate, “who the fuck thought it was a good idea to put a school for crippled kids on top of a goddamned hill?!”

“Why are you complaining?” Izumi scowled. “You had a free ride all the way up. Can't you at least call someone to let us in?”

“I've been trying to all night,” Aimi said as she snapped open her phone and dialed, “but Yamaku's president-elect isn't answering her phone... Oh wait, hold on.”

Aimi put the phone to her ear and quickly held it away to protect her hearing from the ear-shattering cackling that came out.

“...Hello, Miss Hakamichi, this is Aimi Kondou from Saint... Wa-ha-ha to you too. Uhuh, uhuh. Yeah, we're here now and nobody's answering the intercom. Okay, we're right here. Thanks, bye.”

“Is she coming to get us?” Kouta asked.

“I hope so. Apparently she only answers to text messages. I think she's retarded or something.”

The quaint wrought iron gates of the school creaked open ahead of a pink haired student council officer.

“Miss Hakamichi, it's a pleasure to meet you,” Aimi greeted, exhausted but diplomatic. “I look forward to doing business with you in the coming school year.”

“You're funny,” the Yamaku student chuckled, “but you have me mistaken for Shicchan! I'm Misha!”

“What the fuck is a Shicchan?” Aimi asked her companions, already fed up with Yamaku's tiresome greeting party.

“Sounds like someone's nickname,” Izumi observed. “I'll bet 'Misha' is a nickname as well.”

“God, is this the school for retarded nicknames?” Aimi puffed out as they followed Misha to the main building. “C'mon, Izzy, Kokou, let's go see where they're going to put us up.”

After being issued visitors' passes and dropping their belongings off in their temporary rooms in the girls' building, the student council from Saint Pfil's unwound in the cafeteria over dinner.

“Okay, Izzy,” Aimi interrogated while unwrapping a popsicle for dessert, “why did you want to come here alone? Between you sneaking out of the school in the middle of the day, leaving a note with Peppard, and secretly looking up this school, you're being awfully shady. I wouldn't even have known you had business here if I didn't find Yamaku related crap in the student council's computer while clearing out Kouta's BBW porn.”

“Hey, I was gonna save those...”

“Good thing we caught up with ya at the bus station. Now what's going on?”

“If you really must know, in addition to meeting with the student council here, I had personal business as well.”

“You came all the way here to fuck?” Aimi deduced.

“Eh? What?”

“Aimi found condoms, scented candles, massage oils, and soul music CDs in your bag.”

“You searched my things?!”

“No, they fell out when your bag fell over...”

“She did.”

Izumi blushed and shivered at the invasion of her privacy. With too many accomplices, her secret mission was collapsing.

“I'm here to visit my boyfriend,” she admitted.

“Ew, he goes here? What's his disability?”

“He's normal. His aunt is on the school board and got him a free ride here. We were... um, I was going to... Well, you see, we've been together a year and a half but we haven't...” Izumi confided, winding down her voice to a whisper.

“We haven't had sex yet. I was going to surprise him.”

“See?” Aimi jabbed at Kouta, nudging him with her shoulder. “Even Izzy is doing it.”

Kouta responded with a grumble and an flustered look that spoke much of his reluctance.

“Okay, Izumi,” Kouta offered, “We'll deal with official business while we're here so you can go and have fun with your man, okay?”

“Really? You will? Thanks!”

“Of course,” Aimi snickered, “I'm not cold blooded enough to deprive a virgin of happiness, right, Kouta?”

“Uh, right.”

“So how far have you guys gotten?” Aimi inquired.

“We've kissed.”

“Kissed each other's what?”

“Just kissed. Closed mouths.”

Aimi palmed her forehead and sighed. Izumi's poor boyfriend was about to be deflowered by the least experienced girl in the world. In an act of charity, she shared her learned techniques and opened up her bag of tricks.

Izumi watched in horror, while Kouta gawked in fascination as Aimi demonstrated technique on her popsicle. An audience of male Yamaku students had circled around their table.

“You see, the real thing won't numb your gag reflex like a frozen popsicle would, so what you do if you can't handle it is you put your hand around in front of your lips. It's like an extension mouth and he won't be able to tell the difference...”

“Is that what you do with Kouta?”

“You tell me, Kouta...” Aimi prodded.

“No.”

Before embarrassing her boyfriend further, Aimi pushed Izumi on to go find her boyfriend, while Kouta and Aimi retired to their rooms.

Clouds carried Izumi to where she remembered Minoru's room being located. After all the time she spent holding back, she was finally able to give him a girlfriend who wouldn't embarrass him in public. With recent changes to her therapy regime and drug cocktails, Izumi finally had her tics reduced to occasional facial twitches and normal sounding stutters. No more misfiring in the middle of words, disembodied curse words sneaking out, or fits of face slapping.

Thanks to insightful counseling and modern medicine, Izumi was every bit as normal as anyone else. When she was at her worst, the pride in having a normal boyfriend was outweighed by the shame of her own condition. With her habits stable and predictable, Izumi could finally shine outside of her own school and not worry about being judged for things she had no control over. She was, after all, a top student and class president at a prestigious private school. Save for her condition, she was on paper a girl that any boy would put upon a pedestal and flaunt.

Izumi knocked on Minoru's door, bursting with excitement. She wasn't planning on giving herself to him that night, but she did hope to spend quality time with him, and maybe even prepare him for things to come.

No answer. Izumi put her ear to the door and heard thumping, rustling, and what sounded like guttural grunts. Thinking she merely roused him out of a nap, she knocked on the door again.

“Gah, what is it?! Fuck, man, go away!” he shouted from behind the door.

Something was wrong. That was definitely Minoru, but the voice certainly wasn't coming from the well spoken, patient boy she left behind months ago. She knocked yet again.

“Sheeeee-EEE-it! What's your goddamned problem?!” he shouted as he yanked the door open. “I'm trying to- IZUMI!”

Minoru hastily slammed the door, then opened it again but slightly, showing only his face through a crack.

“Hey, um, I didn't know you were gonna be here. Why are you here?”

“I just had some business at the school and was hoping we could hang out. I can come back tomorrow, if... if this is a bad time for you.”

“Yeah, sorry, I'm not feeling too well. Okay sure, maybe tomorrow.”

Izumi and Minoru shared a good long mutual stare. When he first opened the door, he was wearing only a pair of sweatpants. From what she could see, he was suddenly wearing a t-shirt as well.

And then she noticed the hair.

At the edge of Minoru's mouth, pasted on with a glistening spot of mucus or some similar bodily fluid, was a wiry blue hair. Izumi nervously shifted her position to get a look beyond the door and she saw heartbreak.

Peeking from behind Minoru, looking right at Izumi were a pair of very imposing breasts, along with a the girl attached to them. Below was more hair, matching the one plastered onto Minoru's face. Not surprisingly, the tits also had a face attached to them; she was a bespectacled girl with short, dark blue hair. The hussy said nothing, but the smug look on her face was that of a victorious homewrecker.

“I...I gotta go!” Izumi cried out, feeling a freight train slamming into her chest.

“Yeah, yeah you should,” Minoru said, obviously cornered and surprised. “I'm sorry, I'll explain later.”

Aimi's attempts at having her way with Kouta were shattered suddenly by the sudden emergence of sobbing just outside of the door.

“Izzy... what happened?” Aimi asked the quivering wreck that was curled up on the hallway floor.

“K-K-K-Kuu..” Izumi rattled out, violently scratching at her own face, and slapping herself.

Izumi was shattered. All the progress she made had collapsed from under her. She was falling and falling fast. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't bring herself out of her seemingly endless loop of spasms. Inside, she was screaming, and her sputtering mouth could barely give her relief.

“Oh, shit! Kouta, help me get her inside!”

Kouta carried Izumi into the room she was sharing with Aimi and gave her a pillow to scream into and claw at. While he stayed inside to make sure she didn't hurt herself, Aimi stood watch outside the room, mostly because she had no idea how to handle Izumi in that state.

“The fuck you lookin' at, stumpy? Move along, ain't nothing to see here.”

Izumi emerged from the room with Kouta in tow. She was exhausted and shaky.

“Are you okay?”

“De...K...N...”

Izumi shook her head.

“Come on,” Aimi decided, “let's go get fucked up.”

On their way out of campus, Kouta stole a pair of stepladders out of an equipment shed and carried them to a secluded spot on the outer fence. He laid a ladder against the fence, carried the other one over to the other side, crossed them with the girls, then hid both ladders in a hedge just outside of the school grounds.

...

“OY! Waitress!” Aimi flagged down some service at the dreary cafe near the school.

“Yes, madams, sir?” the mousey young woman with buns in her hair answered.

“Gimme a... hot water, two fuzzy navels, and a scotch on the rocks.”

“Um, aren't you kids in high school?” the waitress fearfully asked, pointing at their uniforms. “Besides, we don't have a real bartender here.”

“How DARE you!”

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you keep making fun of our conditions?”

“I-I didn't mean to...”

“Yes, we are in high school, but...” Aimi whispered into the waitress's ear, “we're from a school for the mentally disabled. We're all over 20.”

“Oh... I understand. I-I'm sorry. Would wine coolers be okay for you ladies?”

The waitress promptly returned with their drink orders.

“Oh, darn,” Aimi said, sliding her beverage over to Izumi so she can sip hot water instead, “I can't handle alcohol in my condition. You can finish two, right?”

After Aimi “shared” four more rounds of alcopops with her while Kouta steadily consumed Shanghai's supply of scotch, Izumi started to open up.

“And... and her tits were out to HERE!” Izumi presented with her hands, once she had the worst of her stress induced tics worked out of her system.

“Tell me the truth guys,” she murmured, “do ya think I'm pretty?”

“Oh, yeah, totally!” Kouta answered without hesitation, slamming an ice filled glass to the counter.

“Yeah, you're not bad,” Aimi said through her teeth after disappointedly glaring at Kouta. She couldn't recall the last time Kouta complimented her appearance. Izumi was far softer than she was, so of course she would have Kouta's eye if they were on equal terms.

Aimi slumped over and regretted not getting a drink. That night was the night of misdirected love

...

“Hey, Izumi,” Aimi begged while holding a garbage can up to Izumi's face, “are you okay?”

“I'm fi-BLAAAARRRGGGHHHHH”

“You'll live. Kouta and I will be next door if you need us. Try not to choke on your own sick.”

“B-B-Bulhll ggglrrrrg...”

“Oh... shit!”

Aimi jumped to pull Izumi back upright as she started to slowly vomit while laying down on her back.

“Kouku, baby... go snatch some extra sheets and towels from the supply closet.”

“How many?”

“All of them.”

With Kouta fetching provisions from around the dorm, Aimi whispered into Izumi's unconscious ear.

“Fine. I'll stay with you. I will warn you, I haven't gotten laid in over eight months. I might snap and molest you.”

“Wh-Wha?”

“I said, you owe me for this.”

...

Aimi evaluated her counterpart with tented fingers. She couldn't tell whether Miss Mikado really was a slow-witted ditz or if she was a cunning mastermind. Their planning of the upcoming scholastic and athletic competition between their respective schools were going well, in fact, too well. Virtually every one of Aimi's demands were met, possibly since Misha's imaginary friend “Shicchan,” who apparently was in charge, seemed to be absent.

“Ugh, what did I miss?” Izumi rasped out as she entered the student council room, hungover and clinging onto Kouta for balance.

Kouta and Izumi always seemed to work well together. Naturally they would, they've known each other far longer than Aimi has known either of them. They got along, they helped each other out, and if Aimi didn't know any better, they looked like the perfect couple.

Aimi moved out of their way and sat some distance away before briefing them on the progress she made with Misha. Shortly after the beginning of the next school year, Yamaku will host a competition against Yamaku consisting of a series of academic, creative, and cultural contests, along with at least one athletic challenge. Depending on the outcome and response, they hoped to hold one such event at least once or even twice a year.

“Oh, hey, guys! Shicchan is here!” the drill haired hostess announced, with the arrival of the succubus that stole Minoru from Izumi. Her blouse was not buttoned completely, she had crust at the edges of her eyes, and her hair was tossed up into the very definition of “sex hair.”

“Guys, that's her!” Izumi whispered to her fellow officers. “That's the bitch!”

“Sorry for my tardiness,” the girl spoke though Misha with almost telepathic efficiency, “I- Shiina what do I say? I'll just tell them that I had a- No! Don't tell them that. I had a meeting with the outgoing student body president.”

“What the fuck was that?” Aimi asked her friends, confused by the garbled words that came out of Misha's mouth.

“Sorry! Shicchan ...er Shizune and I sometimes have kinks to work out when it comes to talking to more than one person at a time.. WAHAHAHA~!”

“Yeah-huh,” Kouta sighed, trying to follow Shizune and Misha's hand movements as they talked.

Another visitor came into the student council room to briefly check on their progress. It was Minoru.

“Hey guys,” he said, looking at everyone in the room except Izumi, “everything going okay?”

“Yes, Mister President!” Misha answered cheerfully. “We're almost done!”

When Minoru left the room, Shizune kicked her feet up onto the conference table to silently gloat at Izumi and to display the fact that she was wearing Minoru's underwear.

“Eh? You really want me to say that?” Misha unwittingly vocalized. “Okay, um, Shicchan says that she wishes you luck with the competition and she hopes you guys can hold onto your dignity better than your boyfriends. Shicchan, what's that abou...”

Shizune's barb aimed right at Izumi enraged Aimi as well, who deduced that the current class president was the Minoru she heard so much about. If that Yamaku broad managed to steal Izumi's boyfriend despite being mute and probably deaf, then Misha, appearing to have never met a meal she didn't like, would have no trouble stealing Kouta away from Aimi even though didn't seem to have a fully functional brain of her own.

“Look here, Miss Wahaha,” Aimi fired back, trying to not lose her temper and start an intermural incident.

“Misha.”

“Whatever. Tell your master that you two can have as much of our leftovers as you want, I can tell you guys always clean your plates. And while you're at it, feel free to take our parking spots and bus seats.”

Shizune held up a sheet of paper, on which she wrote the words “You mad?”

“Shicchan says that she's very very sorry about taking away Izuchan's boyfriend.”

With the fakest display of remorse in the history of high school drama, Shizune pouted and wiped invisible tears off her cheeks.

“But she also says that she deserves a chance to be with Minokun- Minokun? I thought we settled in Minochan? -but in the spirit of fairness, you will get an opportunity to take him back. Do you like board games?”

“Huh?” Izumi asked, roused out of her zoning out by the offer. “Yeah, sure, I play them all the time.”

“Then how about a game of Risk between you and Shicchan? She wins, you leave Minokun alone, you win, and you can have him all to yourself!”

“Let's get going, Izzy,” Aimi warned, “they're just fucking with us.”

“Shh, Aimi, I can handle this,” Izumi eagerly commanded. “Are... are you serious? All I have to do is beat Shizune at Risk and I can have Minoru back?”

Shizune smiled innocently, produced a well-used board game box from a convenient spot under her chair, and slammed it onto the table. Against Aimi and Kouta's advice, Izumi played along with Shizune's scheme. The game started off slow and ground into a stalemate. Gradually, Izumi broke the impasse, gained the upper hand...

...and lost.

“Well surprise, surprise,” Aimi whooped out, back in their room, “I saw that hustle coming a mile away.”

“Aimi!” Kouta reprimanded. “You're not helping!”

Aimi quietly chastised herself for her insensitivity while bitterly watching Izumi weep in Kouta's embrace. While she was getting off on rubbing Izumi's heartbreak into her face, Kouta was comforting her and appeared to be doing a good job at it.

They came as a couple plus a third wheel, and it appeared that Aimi had switched places with Izumi.

“Oy, Izzy,” Aimi gently asked, as soft and maternal as possible, “I'm sorry about this, but I gotta ask you something.”

“Wh-what?”

“Minoru cheated on you. To most people, that's already grounds for a breakup. Did you really think you could win some dumb game and change his heart? Even if you won, it seemed like he was lost to you. And even if you made him love you again, were you really going to forgive him?”

“I-I don't know, really. To be honest, I thought that if I could just win one thing against them, then maybe I'd have some measure of revenge.”

Izumi hyperventilated for a moment, then wriggled out of Kouta's arms to ask Aimi something.

“Tell me the truth, Aimi. I-Is she prettier than me?”

“Yes, but... In a bitchy way.”

“I don't... what are you talking about?”

“Like, you know in your head that she's pretty, but you'd never want to look like her because you can tell right away that she's a colossal bitch.”

“You mean mean like you?” Izumi blurted out, trying to smother her tears with something to laugh about.

Aimi's face warped and tightened as if someone spat on her ancestors.

“Shut up. But look on the bright side. You used to talk kinda weird, but that bitch can't talk at all!”

Izumi burst into tears.

“Minoru left me for a girl who is MORE disabled than I am!”

“Now you know how I felt when I lost that election to you.”

“Aimi!” Kouta shouted.

“Oh jeez,” Izumi laughed at herself for an emotional distraction, “after all this dumb drama and crap, I forgot that I came to this school to lose my virginity. Aimi, go find me a guy!”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. If those whores are going to steal my 'Minokun,' maybe I should try stealing their own men!”

“Well, before you do that, I've got an idea...”

...

Izumi laid on the bed and shivered, more out of embarrassment than cold. Aimi shoved her over, closer to the cold wall, making things worse.

“Aimi, I appreciate you trying to help me but, this is really really awkward.”

“How is this more awkward than picking some random gimp who for all you know doesn't even have a penis and jumping his bones? C'mon, Izzy, we're your friends!”

“She does have a point,” Kouta moaned. “It is awkward, especially for me.”

“Kokou, shut up and fuck us already. Not every boy gets two girls for his first time. You should be thankful!”

“I know, but...”

Aimi closed her legs and sat up to reassuringly pet Kouta on the shoulder. She looked at Izumi, who was much softer than she was, even with all the weight she gained since hooking up with Kouta. Aimi nudged Kouta to line him up between Izumi's legs.

“Kokou, it's okay. You can make her your first if you want. In fact, you can be with her all the time if you'd like. Just, when the time comes, let people think that I'm the one who dumped you, for my reputation.”

“Aimi...”

Aimi tried to smile with preemptive forgiveness but tears just kept coming out.

“I understand. I mean, I know I'm a bad girl and... a good boy like you deserves someone who isn't so mean, so jealous, and so ...unattractive to you. Remember what I said about how your first should be someone pure and innocent, well...”

“Aimi, with all due respect, shut up for once. You're the one I love.”

Kouta grabbed Aimi and threw her on all fours, on top of Izumi.

“I'm sorry, Izzy, I guess he really does love me -AH!”

“Of course he does. What made you think he didn't?”

...

“I think Kokou might be onto something,” Aimi squealed, squeezing Izumi around the belly and making her very self conscious.

“Can you cut it out? I'm trying to get dressed.”

“Aw, I can't help it. You're just so sooofft, and squishy!”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No! Not at all. You're cuddly.”

After Kouta pried her out of Aimi's hugs and kisses, Izumi got dressed and set out on her rampage through Yamaku. She went out to one of the courtyards and sat on a bench.

Her first target came scurrying hurriedly by almost immediately. He was an awkward, reserved looking young man with thick glasses who wore a striped scarf in spite of the the warm weather.

“Hey, cutie!” she yelled out, making him drop the rolled up graphs and charts he carried with him. Once she saw his squinting eyes somewhere deep within his glasses focus on her, she slowly unzipped her uniform shirt, letting her heaving bust explode out as if it was locked in a cage.

“Wanna do it?”

...

After their second and final night at Yamaku, Izumi, Aimi, and Kouta packed their things and got ready for their return to St. Pfil's. The beds were made and Izumi's vomit from Saturday night was cleaned up. They headed out to the main building, aiming for the bus stop in town while the students there moped on to their Monday morning classes after a weekend of debauchery.

“Oh snap!” Kouta remembered, “I forgot to toss out the condoms we used! I don't remember seeing them when we cleaned up.”

“It's alright,” Aimi said, “I have them.”

“Ew, you're not going to keep them as souvenirs are you?”

“No, of course not, I'm planning on...” Aimi stopped mid sentence and turned around to ask a Yamaku student for directions. “Hey, Blondie! Yeah, over here! Would you happen to know where Miss Hakamichi's room is?”

While Kouta chased after Aimi to make sure she didn't get into too much trouble, Izumi paced around outside the entrance to the main building until she bumped headfirst into Minoru's chest.

“Hey, Izumi,” he smoothly asked, “do you have a minute?”

“You have a minute. Make it quick, I'm going back to school.”

“Izumi, as you know, I'll be graduating soon. I've decided to go move to Canada to live with my Mom while I attend college there. After my time here, I've decided that I want to teach special edu...”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Izumi, I know we've made some mistakes, but I think our love can overcome them. I want you to come with me.”

“You're joking, right? After all this, you want me to pack my bags and go live in some foreign land?”

“It's fine, it's fine! I know you'll have no problem finishing high school there. And I hear Canadians are so much more accepting of people like you...”

“People like ME?! I loved you, Minoru. Even after I knew you were fucking some mute bitch, I was willing to take you back, if you even bothered apologizing like any decent person would. Yes, the looks and judgments from strangers bothered me but the only opinion that ever really mattered to me was yours, Minoru. I thought you were different, I thought you could see past the way I talked but no, you're just like everyone else.”

“Come on, Izumi, don't be like that,” he pleaded. “Shizune was just entertainment. You don't seriously expect a long-distance relationship like ours to survive off of just phone calls and letters, did you? We're human beings, not robots. We have needs, surely you also had boyfriends back in your school. Don't tell me that you didn't.”

Izumi could feel her brain melt and pour out of her ears, just listening to Minoru's words, which were surreal in their stupidity. Seeing that whatever was left of his relationship with Izumi was slipping into the abyss, Minoru changed gears and approached from a different direction.

“Hey, but, for what it's worth, I've learned a lot of things while I was here. Right now, you might not believe this, but I did this all for you, Izumi. None of those other girls counted, I still consider myself a virgin. My heart is still pure and reserved for you, but now I've got enough practice to be a worthy lover for you. You're the girl I've been waiting my whole life for. I'd be honored to be your first...”

“Those other... GIRLS?!”

Izumi whipped out her cellphone and opened up her collection of camera-phone pictures.

“You're too late. I lost my virginity to my two best friends yesterday. See, there's me and Aimi. And there's me and Kouta. And then I took a page out of your book and started cripple-chasing. Here's some blind kid who passed out on me. And this boy has one arm...”

“You'll never have me, Minoru,” she concluded, “But everyone else in your school has.”

“You little retarded bitch,” Minoru steamed and shuddered, “Do you have any idea how much I had to put up with your shit in the past? Slapping yourself like you were covered in ants? Croaking out obscenities at strangers. I mean... do you have any idea what it's like for everyone you know to be asking you what the fuck is wrong with your girlfriend? Everyone thought you were nuts but only I- ONLY I -knew the real you. You'll never find anyone else who can love you like I do. My heart belongs to you, Izumi, and you betrayed me. None of those other boys care...”

Izumi grabbed Minoru's gonads and squeezed, sending a sinking feeling down from his stomach to his wobbly knees.

“So you say your heart belongs to me? Well THIS evidently belongs to a bunch of crippled hussies. As for the 'shit' I put you through, there was nothing keeping you with me. If you broke up with me, I would have understood. But no, you tugged me along making me thankful that you gave me any of your time. And yes, I didn't think anyone else could love me, but you know what? My friends love me for who I am despite my... oh, that's right, I DON'T DO THAT ANYMORE. You haven't even noticed that I'm talking normal now, huh?”

“C'mon Izumi, I didn't mean to sound so cruel. What do you say, how about you guys spend another night here? We'll go on a date, just the two of us. Or even a double date with your friends. I've got a car. I'll even drive you guys back to your school.”

“Forget it, 'Minokun,' it's over,” she said, releasing his testes, before briefly slapping at them. “It's been over from the moment you ever considered me a liability.”

Seeing Aimi and Kouta return from their errand, Izumi ran over to join them, followed closely by Minoru.

“Hey, guys, you really ought to stay another night. I can show you some of the stuff there is to do here.”

“We really shouldn't overstay our welcome,” Kouta said.

“It's cool, dude. I'm the class president. You can be my personal guests.”

“Minoru, leave us alone,” Izumi snapped.

“You're her friend, right?” Minoru asked Aimi, placing his arm around her shoulders. “Can't you talk to her?”

“Minoru, you're normal, right?” Aimi said, slicing open a fruit cup with her switchblade, impaling a pickled plum and holding it up to his eye. “You don't fit in. You need like an eyepatch or something. I can help you earn one.”

“Chill out, Aimi, is it? I'm just trying to be hospitable.”

“Did I mention,” she sighed, “that my boyfriend is a judo expert and has a reputation for murdering people in a blind rage? He's also extremely jealous of other men and is overprotective of me.”

“Actually, I'm not really...”

“Kouta!”

Dutifully, Kouta clamped his hand around Minoru's upper arm, peeled him off of Aimi, and effortlessly threw him aside, dislocating Minoru's shoulder in the process.

“Sorry, bro,” Kouta apologized, popping Minoru's arm back into place.

...

“Hey, Aimi, thanks for... um,” Izumi humbly said, “for um, letting me borrow your boyfriend.”

“Imagine that. After all that time getting him to open up, it turned out a threesome was all he needed.”

“I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I lost my virginity to both of you.”

“Don't act too happy. I don't want Kokou to get spoiled.”

“Even after what I said, I'm so glad you chose me first,” Aimi said to Kouta, getting comfortable leaning against him on the train portion of their trip back to Saint Pfil's.

“Does it really matter, considering the circumstances of how it happened?” Izumi asked. “Why's it a big deal anyway?”

“She's been worried that I'd leave her for you or something.”

“What?”

“It's true,” Aimi confessed, “what with all this breaking up of of couples that's been going on, I got scared. And then I saw how well Kouta took care of you and then... and then I saw you naked and I was sure that... well, I thought the reason why we haven't done it yet was cuz he didn't really like me and I felt that he deserved to be with someone who was more his type. ...Don't tell anyone about this.”

“Don't worry. Nobody would believe it if I started telling people you had a soft spot.”

“I don't understand it either,” Kouta said to Aimi with a gentle kiss, “but I do love you.”

“I love you guys, I really do,” Aimi sang out, sprawling out on the seat, across Kouta's lap.

“It's too bad that the Yamaku girls still won one over me. I can't help but feel that I've got unfinished business with them. I suppose I'll just have to save my grudge for the competition, huh?”

“Don't worry, I got 'em for ya,” Aimi happily announced.

“Oh, God.”

“Why, what? What did you do? Was it that thing you ran off for while I was talking to Minoru?”

“Let's just say that since you couldn't beat Hakamichi at her own game, Aimi decided to fight dirty.”

“...and that mute whore has a nice surprise waiting inside her pillowcase!”

-To Be Continued-

Yes, that was Kenji who got Yaranaika'd.

kosherbacon wrote:Dutifully, Kouta clamped his hand around Minoru's upper arm, peeled him off of Aimi, and effortlessly threw him aside, dislocating Minoru's shoulder in the process.

“Sorry, bro,” Kouta apologized, popping Minoru's arm back into place.

Bitch got owned Shoulder dislocation = pain, shoulder resetting = HUGE pain

kosherbacon wrote:Yes, that was Kenji who got Yaranaika'd.

And thus began the anti-feminist movement ">_>

By the way, I hate that Minoru bastard -_-" Good Job writing him

I don't quite understand what kind of surprise is in store for Shizzy though.