Katawa Shoujo Forums

Aaah, another nice and interesting fan fics. Mate, i really enjoy this. No hisao and hanako story ? you got my attention naw

Wow, it's been that long since I wrote for this that I actually forgot about the part 4 I done. . And re-written it, not sure what I'm going to do now as I'm thoroughly confused, so whilst I figure that out here is my V2 of part 4 for your pleasure


Tsugarufutamata was relatively quiet; especially considering it was a transfer point for the under-sea train to Hokkaido.

Apart from a few moments of statuesque immobility Hanako dealt with the crowds much better the second time around compared to the first station. The connecting train was dead-on time too, Naomi spotting their carriage this time and merrily leading Hanako to their seats at a pace that would have made the Ibarazki girl proud.

All the bustle followed by inactivity was having its effect on them both, each feeling that awkward, strange combination of sleepy and restless only long bouts of travel brings on, shifting from one position to the other in their chairs, seemingly deliberately designed to deny them enough comfort to rest peacefully, each starts and abandoning conversations with each other as they continued to shift and fidget.

Both girls finally nodded off to sleep through the remainder of the shorter leg of their journey as the train whisked them undersea to Hokkaido, both already coming so far in more ways than one, and yet their summer proper has yet to begin. . .

Naomi was having one of her favourite dreams, the beach, the family, the bikini that made all of the boys look, that silly longing betraying a degree of ineptitude and awkwardness. She liked the look they gave her, she felt normal, she felt desirable, not broken and fragile, she was an object of desire in this dream and she relished it.

Some people who suffer from epilepsy have an 'aura' which is a sensation or premonition just prior to an epileptic episode, all Naomi knew was that one minute she was wading through the water towards a cute boy, the next she was struggling, tumbling, the surf snatching her feet out from under her and tumbling her against the sand, throwing her around just under the surface.

Hanako's face is a grim mask of determination, leaning across the table and holding Naomi's shoulders lightly, startled awake as her leg thrashed out and kicked her, the seat and the table between them. As Naomi's erratic shivers and trembles subside she opens her eyes and then startles to full wakefulness with a gasp. She lunges forward and holding onto Hanako, dragging in deep breaths, her tears start freely cascading down her face.

Despite herself, Hanako could only think of how strong Lilly had been for her, and resolved herself to become just as compassionate. She awkwardly moved herself around the table, letting Naomi keep her grip around her and sat next to her saying nothing, just being there, a calm, patient friend. She smiled and hugged Naomi all the way into Sapporo station, gently guiding her to the baggage and putting the handle into her hand, lead her through the heaving bodies flowing through the station.

The activity and the bustle must have snapped Naomi out of her little bubble because by the time the two of them had navigated their way out of the station it was Naomi leading the way, a bright smile on her face, her eyes darting around again, drinking in the world around her. Hanako simply allowed herself to be lead along, glad that Naomi had recovered so quickly from what must have been her first episode in years, the only lasting evidence being a pair of nasty bruises on her shin, and one on Naomi's knee.

Naomi was determined to get to the hotel and disappear into her bed for a week, she felt horrible, less than useless, betrayed by her own body, again! She was dragging up memories and trying to remember everything she knew about things that triggered seizures, avoiding stores with big TVs in their windows, swerving wide around the ice cream vendor and the sushi shop, not wanting to risk the sights or smells triggering whatever it was in her brain that made her internal clock tick out of rhythm. Making as direct a route as she could to their hotel not even looking back at the grimace forming on Hanako's face as she tightens her grip on her hand with each step.

Well that was quite a change in the story.

griffon8 wrote:Well that was quite a change in the story.

I know, and as I said, I'm conflicted as to how to continue the story now :/ especially with the VN I'm working on picking up steam and taking more time now.

I had such a clear idea for where this FF was going but looking at it know it's as clear as mud and some of the ideas I had back then seem terrible with hindsight.

Choices choices . . .

Adrift with Shadows in a Sea of White.

Something is missing, or maybe it is me that is lost, maybe it’s both! Wait I am supposed to be doing something else, or shouldn’t that be thinking about something else. . . Thinking is something to do, so maybe I am doing what I’m supposed to be doing, so that makes my previous question redundant. . . So why did I think it. . .

White, more white, always white. Everything begins white, blank, clean. The potential to become something else excites me, and that was what distracted me. I was thinking about thinking, instead of what the canvas will be, or is already? Is it become or became when I was thinking? I don’t think so, it looks the same. I look the same every day, but mum and dad always say how much I’ve grown and changed when they see me. . . Maybe if I turn around and then look back at it I’ll see a difference.

No.

It must be late, or early, I think my bum has fallen asleep, I need a softer stool. The sun is shining through a few trees, so if it’s that low it is either going to get darker or lighter, unless i turn on the lights, then it might stay the same. The shadows play on the canvas, looking as excited as I am about what will appear on there. . . Riiight, I need to do that for them, I forgot the brush was between my toes, or my toes were around the brush. . .

Shapes start to take form on the canvas, my feet dancing with the shadows of the trees across it as they tell me what will appear. Red, green, yellow, orange, warm colours, but for the tress they are colours of rest, sleep, summer becoming autumn, more things changing, but over and over in circles, so is that really change?

I don’t want to change the same way, I just want to keep on going, but I can’t do that on the canvas, the edges stop me, so I have to stay here, now, inside the edges. . . Maybe I’ll carry on with the wall, I think that has to end soon, people are talking more and more about a festival, and I know I have to do the wall before then, I hope I can finish that before they finish talking about the festival.

*****************

Sat staring at a blank word document, Summer Break has given me some serious writers block, and I apologise for that. But I started letting my mind wander and produced this little bit of mental meandering from the POV of everyones favourite artist, I hope you all enjoy it <3