Well, let's just call this the longest I've ever gone without a new chapter - mostly because that's what it is. 11/06/13 to 1/28/14 is very nearly three months - 83 days, actually - during which I've been fighting with this chapter. Of course, there was an interlude around Christmas that took up a fair amount of time - on another unfinished story - but who's counting?
If I could, I'd like to say it was the holidays, technical problems, or some other external force precipitating this long absence, but that would only be half the truth. Honestly, this chapter's title is both relevant to the chapter, and my mental state since November - that is, mentally blocked. It always seems to happen around this time every year - I went on a long hiatus around the new year in 2013 - so it might be a seasonal thing, or have something to do with solar energy, extended periods of night, or just a genuine lack of inspiration, but, whatever the exact cause, it obviously has severely detrimental effects on my prolificity as a writer.
It would be foolish to guarantee that it's over, though the truth is that the last quarter of this chapter was written and proofed in the last 24 hours, so maybe I'll have another chapter before the end of February. It's also possible that a giant meteor will shatter the planet in that time, so I'll keep my fingers crossed.
Anyway, here I present Chapter 43 - Mental Block, which has caused much confusion and general malaise for me almost since before the previous chapter's release. As always, your questions, comments, support and whatever else you feel like throwing at me - not in the face, please - is welcome. Don't be shy about sending me a PM, either; I do check the forums just about daily, and I reply to everything - especially criticism.
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Chapter 43 - Mental Block
If you ask me, the best part of having friends is also sometimes the worst: they introduce you to new things. Sometimes that means engaging in criminal activity—like partaking of illicit downloads—but usually they're just things you haven't done, don't do, or might otherwise avoid doing. For instance, Amaya has involved me with cooking because she hopes I'll learn some of her skills—it hasn't worked. Yoko, on the other hand, led me to a place that Amaya has been trying to bring me since it opened two years ago: a lingerie boutique known as Girl Paradise.
A male executive thought up its name, I'm sure...
The hints she had been dropping beforehand should have helped me predict our destination and prepare an escape, but she kept me distracted with a flurry of fashion questions, and we had walked inside before I knew what happened. Once I realized where we were, I very nearly turned right around and left, but she used an insidiously effective puppy-dog look that I couldn't deny—I'm pretty sure it's the one she banned her father from using. Besides that, she had apparently paid to reserve a dressing room for the afternoon, and I couldn't let that go to waste.
At least that meant we were guaranteed some privacy, and, of course, at the time I had no notion of needing that for myself, but it turns out I was being naïve; in my defense, I had no idea Yoko was so wily. Once she had squared away a devilish little collection for herself, she continued using her fashion voodoo, and somehow convinced me to try on a few things. That snowballed into spending the next couple hours in and out of the changing room, during which I probably tried on more bras and panties than I own—admittedly that isn't a very large number to eclipse.
It took some convincing from my fashion muse, but when it was all over I had purchased four sultry little sets along with a few intimate accessories. Being the good friend she is, Yoko provided a reasonable excuse for spending that much yen: she called it an investment in romance. That might not hold up when Mom gets my credit card bill, although she'll probably just be happy I'm investing in femininity. Either way, from where I'm standing, looking at my scantily clad reflection bathed in rainy twilight from my open window, I'm sure Hisao will appreciate my financial planning.
I'm sure I'll get a return on the investment, too...
Whether she intended it or not, Yoko's fashion voodoo has had the side-effect of generating a flood of optimism—metaphorically, and somewhat physically. Instead of worrying about his fidelity, I've been imagining Hisao seeing me dressed in this lacy black bodice and cream-colored panties, swaying seductively in the moonlight. The problem is that fantasizing about exciting my boyfriend with sexy lingerie has left me feeling dangerously amorous. Granted that's a lot better than surly and suspicious, but I'm trying to stay pure—relatively speaking—until our reunion.
Thankfully, rattling at my doorknob breaks me out of my imaginings, and a muffled voice soon follows. “Hey, did you lose track of time? It's almost seven,” Yoko says, giving the knob another try before lilting, “I'm making gnocchi~!”
Coughing loudly, I sputter over a few incoherent responses before settling on a nice innocuous question, “You can cook Italian food?” then start tugging the laces open on the bodice as I add, “Why did I not know that?”
“You've never asked,” she states, pausing a few moments before starting to ramble, “I dropped the pasta just before heading up here, and it'll be done in a few... so, come down when you're ready... or done with whatever you're doing in there... or whatever, just... don't get too distracted with yourself...” her suggestive tone leads into a giddy cackle as she adds, “Don't do anything I wouldn't do~!”
As I'm shrugging the bodice away and reaching for my plain white bra, I recall an incident at the beach house that I could use to fire back a retort, but I think I'd rather save that for an emergency. Instead I decide to cordially reply, “I'll be down in a few,” then shrug and add, “maybe you can teach me your recipe?”
Calming her laughter, she remarks, “I'm a pretty good cook, actually, but... I'm not a miracle worker...”
“Sure you are!” I retort, setting the bodice down on my bed, “You got me into a lingerie boutique, and that's a small miracle at least, so I'd say the sky's the limit...”
There's a short pause as her footfalls start moving away down the hall, followed by a sigh and a trailing comment, “I think I'll concentrate on plausible miracles...”
I don't think I'll ever live down that fire...
Considering she's up against a lifetime of unsuccessful attempts from Mom, and three years of Amaya's trials and failures, I don't begrudge her lack of confidence. Besides, I have bigger problems to deal with—namely finding something clean to wear. Neither of us had an umbrella, so we got soaked running for the bus stop, and again on the mad dash to the girls' dorm. It doesn't take much effort to find some sweatpants and a new t-shirt, but after dressing I discover something important is missing: my satchel seems to have disappeared along with my cellphone and keys.
Two months ago that wouldn't have bothered me, but, especially lately, I can't function without my phone, and that satchel has become a depository for all my seemingly inconsequential necessities—I may have inherited Mom's bag obsession. Fortunately I don't have a lot of space to search through, although that probably doesn't bode well. First I check through the mess of bags strewn across my floor, but it's all bug spray and lacy undergarments. Then I head back to look through my closet, but all I manage to find there is my old flip phone, which has since been disconnected.
Tossing the old phone aside, I roll my chair away so I can check under my desk, then drop to my knees and send an arm under the bed, all to no avail. While my hand is under there, I bump into something plastic and find I've uncovered my heart-shaped pink sunglasses—the ones I haven't seen in months. Peering through the dusty lenses, I wince and toss them over onto my desk—they need a bath before I'll put them near my face. Finding those just in time for the camping trip is probably fortunate, but without my phone and keys, I don't think I'll be going anywhere.
As I'm getting to my feet, I grumble under my breath, “What the hell did I do? Leave it on the bus?”
I wonder if that's what happened to Hisao...
Flopping down on the bed, I stare across at my reflection for a few moments—as though I were expecting her to answer. When she doesn't, I chuckle to myself and recite, “Mirror, mirror on the wall... who's the biggest dumbass of all?”
Talking to myself won't help anything, but I've exhausted all the obvious places to search, so it's time to turn my eyes inward. When I got back—soaked and surly as I was—I had to unlock my door. My hands were filled with shopping bags, and I was in an impatient mood, so I got my keys out using my teeth, and ended up using the wrong key twice because all the dorm keys look the same. That obviously means I had my satchel then, so at least it isn't out riding the bus by itself, but I've already checked every nook in my room. It must be around here somewhere, though, so I continue recalling my movements.
Once I managed to get through the door, I started dropping things haphazardly like always, leaving everything scattered between the door and my bed. My satchel must have been among the things I dropped along the way, but it apparently vanished. Perhaps I accidentally pressed a hidden button that activates a cloaking device, or maybe there was a wormhole on my floor that transported my satchel across the galaxy. It's possible that same wormhole brought my sunglasses back, so maybe all I have to do is wait until an unstable spatial anomaly returns from some uncharted sector of the cosmos.
And I've put myself into the Star Trek universe...
Even if a wormhole really did steal my satchel and it'll be back in a couple months—that's how long my sunglasses were missing, anyway—I can't go without my phone and keys for that long. Granted I could get a new key from maintenance, but that's an embarrassing hassle. The phone is harder to replace, but I could probably get my old one reactivated temporarily. That would mean dealing with Mom's disapproving half-smirk—along with a lecture on curtailing my absentmindedness—when I tell her I lost the new one she just spent a small fortune acquiring, so I might be better off going without.
Maybe I could benefit from living off the grid for a while...
With those thoughts swirling around my brain, I fall back and lie down on the bed with a disgruntled groan. There's a part of me that hates my dependence on technology, but I'm used to contacting whoever I need to whenever I want, and for whatever reason. At any time, as long as I'm not violating school policy, I can call up Amaya just to talk, or ask Kenta about the weather in Hokkaido, or even reach Naoko as she gallivants across western Europe. That's probably why being out of contact with Hisao for the past four days has been so grueling.
Less than my lifetime ago, people didn't have cellphones or an internet to use for long-distance communication; when Mom described not seeing Dad for months at a time, it wasn't an exaggeration. At most they talked on the phone—at great expense, and only from home—for a short while on an intermittent basis, and there were times when they wouldn't get a chance to talk for weeks. Even e-mail, which is now practically an antiquated technology, was a fledgeling industry that neither of them had the resources to access, so a lot of their correspondence was through snail mail.
I've seen Mom's old box of letters, and it's pretty impressive...
If I think about it in perspective, maybe I'm just being selfish. Hisao being out of contact for a few days is comparatively laughable, and there isn't an ocean between us either—just a long train ride. If Yoko is right, and I hope she is, he'll call me back eventually, and I'll have been worried over nothing. There's still a pit in my stomach, but it's from worrying that I won't have a phone when he finally does call, although that's probably equally selfish. It's also possible that pit has more to do with being hungry than anything else; I haven't eaten since lunch, and maybe I can't find my satchel because I can't focus.
I recall something about gnocchi and miracles...
That thought launches me off the bed fast enough to provide a brief dizzy spell, but I've recovered before I get a hand on my doorknob. Unlocking and pulling it open, I step out and nearly trip over something parked beside the jamb. As I turn a frustrated glare down to find the culprit, I let out a self-deprecating groan; I've literally tripped over my satchel. Evidently I let it drop after fishing out my key, and now I feel doubly stupid for having left all my important stuff sitting out here in a dorm full of vultures.
Fortunately, from the look of it, I seem to have left it half-open with the keys lying beside, and some of the contents have spilled out onto the floor, but nothing appears to have gone missing. It also isn't half way across the galaxy, but maybe that anomaly decided to return early—I wonder if it's a stable wormhole. Crazy theories aside, it seems none of my more embarrassing items have found their way out either—my birth control pills and condoms, namely—so I count that as a win, gather up my loose stuff, sling the satchel across my shoulder, fluff my hair like nothing happened, and head for the stairs.
I kinda wonder why Yoko didn't mention my bag lying out there, though...
As I'm chuckling to myself on the way down the stairs, I feel my phone start to vibrate, so I stop on a landing. A little wave of excitement passes through me as I draw it out of the side pocket; it feels as though nearly losing my phone means whoever is calling must be important. Unfortunately that hope is dashed as the screen lights up and reveals the call is coming from a blocked number. With the majority of my friends spread all over Japan, and at least one roaming through Europe, I've seen several unknown numbers show up on my cellphone lately, but none of them get blocked.
I've been victim to a few of Kenta's prank calls because of that...
What I've learned from movies tells me that blocked numbers are usually kidnappers or a drug dealers calling to make arrangements, which means Hisao might be in trouble and needs rescuing. That's probably a fantasy—albeit a strange one—and it's much more likely a telemarketer got their hands on my cell number. If that's the case, I wonder whether Yoko may have signed me up for a mailing list; she spent a long while at the boutique's checkout counter—she's probably due a discussion on boundaries. For now, I have the option to ignore the call and let it go to voice-mail, so I do just that.
I'm sure they'll call back if it's really important...
As I continue on my way down the stairs, and not two seconds after the call switches over to my voice service, my phone starts buzzing again. This time it's not a blocked number, though the quick succession of calls makes me wonder if Amaya is trying to pull a prank—I wouldn't put it past her. Pressing send, I lift the phone up and immediately accuse, “You're messing with me, right?”
“W-what?” she sputters, “Um, no—and hello to you too!”
“You didn't just call from a blocked phone?” I press.
“Nope~!” she assures me, the speed of her response making it all the more believable.
Shrugging, I continue around the banister as I mumble, “Strange...” then shake my head and add, “Sorry, I had a blocked call just a second ago, and... never mind—hello!”
“Blocked call? How many times do I have to remind you: pay attention when you sign up for free porn!” she jokes, laughing at herself as she continues, “Anyway, I heard from Jessica Rabbit that you did some shopping today~!” her lilting tone drops as she adds, “Someone finally got you into Girl Paradise, huh? Without any kicking or screaming, no less?”
Lying to her would just make this worse, so I reluctantly confirm, “Yeah... sorry...”
“See, I didn't believe it from Red, and I should probably be mad at her... but, she's forgiven!” she exclaims, drawing in a deep breath before continuing, “You on the other hand... three years I've been trying to get you in there, and she convinces you in one try? I've had to shop for underwear alone all this time, and now...? What kind of friend does that?”
“I said I was sorry!” I bark, smirking as I taunt, “Besides... maybe Yoko's just more convincing than you...!”
“Hey, I'm not complaining~!” she lilts, giggling darkly, “Besides, this means I'll be able to drag you along next time without complaints—now that you've gone and played dress-up with Yoko, your fate is sealed~!”
And this is why I should never have agreed...
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Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 04/30/16 ~ recommitted to completion.
Chapter 44 - Mental Block (part 1)
Last edited by Helbereth on Thu Feb 27, 2014 4:48 pm, edited 8 times in total.
Chapter 44 - Mental Block (part 2)
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“We can't just say it was a fluke—a one time thing?” I grumble, pushing my way through the exit onto the ground floor.
“Not a chance~! You owe me a shopping trip... and then you'll owe Yoko one... and then me again,” she threatens, though the laughing makes it sound a lot less malicious, “it'll be an endless cycle—you'll always owe one of us a shopping trip, and we'll definitely be collecting~!”
Turning down the hallway, I grumble, “Oh... joy...”
“Don't sound so happy—I fully intend to get your help finding some stuff to drive Tadao up the wall~!” she lilts, driving the metaphorical dagger in to the hilt, “And because I'm such a generous friend, I'll help you seduce Hisao, too!”
This is my life now... all because I lowered my guard for one fleeting moment...
Walking with my shoulder against the wall, I remark, “That's really not-”
“Anyway!” she interrupts loudly, “Did you buy anything for a certain bored, under-appreciated best friend of yours?”
Rolling my eyes as I walk, I sigh and quip, “I considered cyanide...”
“Remember who cooks your meals,” she retorts.
“Right now that's Yoko, actually,” I counter, sniffing the air loudly as I near the door to the common room, “Apparently she cooks Italian food? Said something about gnocchi...”
“Ooh! Must have been a good day at the mall...” she says, trailing off for a moment before chirping, “You're in for a treat~! She made that for Kenta a couple weeks ago—just after we got back from the beach.”
“How did I not know that?” I ask suspiciously.
She pauses for a moment—either to recall something, or come up with a lie—then replies, “I dunno, it was in the middle of finals, so you were probably distracted—I'm pretty sure I mentioned it...”
I'll just add it to the list of things I didn't know about Yoko...
“Anyway!” she blurts again, her voice shifting into a slight whisper as she continues, “Tadao finally found a healer for this stupid dungeon, so I gotta go rape and pillage for a while...”
Confused for just a moment, I give my head a little shake and ask, “He got you back into WoW?”
“Blood Elves are so pretty~!” she cheers, then quietly adds, “But... don't tell the Elf-Lord I've been back into WoW for a couple months now...”
Does that make her the Elf-Lady...?
Shrugging as I stop in front of the door to the common room, I assure her, “Your secret's safe... Elf-Lady,” then cock an eyebrow as I inquire, “How'd that happen, though?”
“Tall, dark and brooding convinced me I should channel my pent-up bloodlust into murder and mayhem, so I made a pretty blond rogue with twin-tails! So, I guess I really am the Elf-Lady now...” she describes, then adds a pirate-like gruffness to her voice as she continues, “A'though aye think 'e jus' wan'ed someone comp'tent t' raid with,” then loses the voice to chirp, “but, I'm flattered either way!”
“It's both!” I hear an as-yet-unheard-from voice add from the background. Tadao sounds distracted, but I imagine he heard most of our conversation, especially when he shouts, “Hisao really likes black, by the way—I hope you got something in black!”
For just a moment I feel compelled to answer, but then I realize what I'd be confirming, and to whom, so I stop myself and instead ask, “Think I should revive my account? We could make quite a threesome-” I stop and groan, “forget I said that...”
“Aiko says she wants to try a threesome~!” Amaya immediately echoes for Tadao as I hear the phone switch into speaker mode. Barely holding back her laughter, she adds, “I'd be okay with it... but there's logistics involved...”
“I'm not sure what Hisao would say about it, either...” Tadao adds, if only to spite my imagination.
They both break into laughter, and I consider hanging up the phone in the meantime, but I'm the one who caused this disturbing conversation, so I stay my hand. After a few moments I get frustrated waiting for one of them to calm down, so I blurt, “You two done with the giggle-fest? You both know I was talking about the game...”
“Yeah, I know,” Tadao confirms, settling himself before continuing, “Sounds like a good time—I'm sure we could get you a warlock power-leveled in a week or two...”
“You know me so well...” I reply.
“Hey, if anyone I know can suck the life out of someone, it'd be... you...?” he retorts, though I think he's reconsidering his words. Apparently realizing the double meaning, if a bit too late, he adds, “That's not how I meant it... and for the record, I have no idea what I'm talking about...”
Just to make matters worse, Amaya adds, “Oh it's totally true—I'm sure Hisao can confirm~!”
I think they do this on purpose... no, I know they do this on purpose...
“Well, anyway...” Tadao grumbles, sounding less then enthused at the prospect of continuing the suggestive asides, “You serious about playing again?”
“Yeah, sure... not much else to do around here,” I confirm, shrugging as I peek into the common room. The narrow window only lets me see a few people, but I can see Yoko's distinct figure standing by the stove, apparently talking in animated fashion with someone I can't quite see. “I can probably convince Yoko to get an account and make a priest or something,” I say, smirking as an idea strikes me, “then we'd be Tadao's Angels.”
“Ooh~! So shall it be written, so shall it be done~!” Amaya agrees, laughing bawdily for a moment before adding, “We'll find some noobs and make the guild later on tonight~!”
Closing my eyes and shaking my head, I groan, “It's not guaranteed-”
“We really gotta go,” she interrupts, “this druid's getting antsy, and I'm not standing around here for another hour waiting for another healer...”
Sounding hopeful, Tadao adds, “If you make a character, send my new paladin a whisper in-game—my name is Literamus.”
“And I'm Literamus' ho~!” Amaya announces, “all one word.”
So, Literamusho...? Sounds Chinese...
Shaking my head, I flatly reply, “How... fitting.”
She giggles for a moment, then adds, “It's true, though—I'm totally his ho!”
“Thanks, I sort of... guessed that,” I mumble.
“Okay we gotta go,” she states, heaving a sigh before adding, “paladin, rogue, druid, mage, warrior... this might work.”
Chuckling lightly, I remark, “Okay, well... remember... rogues do it from behind...”
“Don't I know it~!” she quips as the line cuts.
I... don't wanna know whether that had a double meaning...
Pushing my way through the door quickly, if only to knock the images out of my mind, I'm greeted by a bright smile from Yoko. Gone are the Capri pants and floral blouse—which still looked fabulous while drenched in rainwater—replaced with a plain white t-shirt and sweatpants with something written along one leg; it's in English, and I'm too tired to translate it for myself. She looks a little perturbed—perhaps because I took so long getting here—but she doesn't bother saying anything to that effect. Instead she just points toward the kitchen table where an unfamiliar blond girl is seated.
Actually, she isn't completely unfamiliar; I recognize her sharp features and the walking braces leaning against the table next to her, along with the snobbish way she's sitting with her legs crossed, nose up and eyes down, but I can't recall her name. Because the universe often conspires to embarrass me, I expect her to strike up a conversation the moment I'm seated, but she's engrossed in reading a magazine—some fashion rag I don't recognize. That reminds me that this particular blond girl leads the Fashion Club, and is quite famous—or infamous—for being a snob, but her name still escapes my memory.
I really am bad with names... I'd probably forget my own if nobody said it...
If she even notices my presence at all, I don't see any indication, though I get the sense that she isn't acknowledging my existence purposefully—typical snob. Fortunately, Yoko soon appears at the tableside carrying a pair of elegantly plated bowls of pasta and red sauce. She offers me a kind smile as she sets them down, but it seems like she's ignoring the blond girl—I sense a disturbance. Once Yoko is seated, the mystery snob glances toward her and offers a strained smile; it seems they know each other, though if I account for their mutually narrowed eyes, I don't think their relationship is entirely amicable.
I really wish I could remember this blond girl's name...
Waving a hand toward my bowl, Yoko announces, “Gnocchi in bolognese a'la Viera Guidot—that's my grandmother, if you're wondering-”
“We weren't,” interjects the blond girl.
“Nobody asked you, Saki,” Yoko grumbles, breaking her grin for just a moment, “I was talking to Aiko, although I can see how you'd fail to make that distinction, seeing as how you're as obstinate as you are vain...”
“And yet you claim you're above petty insults,” the blond girl retorts, aiming her painted smile toward me, “How do you put up with this deviant?”
I definitely walked into an argument... and now I know why: Saki Enomoto...
“Leave my friends alone,” Yoko protests, saving me from having to reply—I wouldn't be quite so cordial.
Turning her narrowed brown eyes at Yoko, the girl counters, “Friends...? I only see the one...”
This little blond bitch is getting on my nerves...
Since our first year, Snobby Saki—short of stature and vain of purpose—has been trying and failing to get a Yamaku Fashion Club off the ground. Always starved for members, and seeming to teeter on the verge of collapse, the club's repeated failures probably result from its leader's reportedly fickle, totalitarian leadership and acerbic personality, but Saki is an expert at deflecting blame. Knowing what I do about Yoko's aptitudes, I assume Saki is here to pressure her into joining; that's the most likely case, though considering their apparent animosity, I wonder if she's just here to poke the bear.
I really hope I don't have to poke back; I just wanna have a meal in peace...
It seems they're happy to trade sneers instead of arguing openly for the moment, but this has become quite an uncomfortable chair; it's like they're having a cold war and I've become the Berlin Wall—the tension is making me lose my appetite. This pasta looks delicious and smells wonderful, and I can still feel that hungry pit in my stomach, but someone has to keep an eye on these two, so I'm stuck sitting here, starving before plenty. Meanwhile, Yoko digs into her food with reckless abandon, barely stopping to breathe between bites, all the while angling a spiteful stare at Saki.
I honestly don't know whether to join in or beg for a truce...
While Yoko is gnashing and I'm staring perplexedly, the blond girl focuses on her magazine, though the sour expression broadcasts her ill mood. If I were to guess, I'd assume Saki has been trying to recruit Yoko for a while, and, knowing Saki's reputation, I'm hardly surprised to find that Yoko has rebuffed her advances. Then again, it's also possible that Saki just hates good food and comes down here to annoy people who are trying to eat. Either way, I wish she would just leave so I don't feel like I have to stand between her and my friend—physically, if not metaphorically.
Not even looking up from her magazine, and in a dry, matter-of-fact tone, Saki suddenly remarks, “So, your boyfriend has a failing heart...”
Obviously she's aiming her comment at me, and isn't above using Hisao's condition—however she found out about it—as psychological ammunition. From anyone else, that comment might show concern of some kind, but there's nothing remotely humanitarian in her careless tone, which leads me to wonder what a fork would look like shoved in her eyeball. She's trying to get a rise out of one of us, but I doubt it's me; Yoko looks no less perturbed by the comment. For the moment, she's staying quiet, and from the quick nod she's aiming my way, I think she wants me to follow suit.
I've had dealings with bullies... they usually lose power when ignored...
Still looking down at her fashion rag, the self-involved blond girl adds, “It's one thing to involve oneself with a hobbling gimp,” she aims a sharp look at Yoko, then turns toward me, “but you must be quite the humanitarian to waste your time with such a defective model...”
She just effectively insulted Hisao, Kenta, Yoko and myself all in one sentence, but I've heard worse. From the head shaking, I can tell Yoko is still maintaining her cool, though her face is looking a little redder than normal—it was probably the reference to Kenta. Meanwhile, Saki aims her haughty expression at me, as if expecting some kind of response, but all I bother offering is a seething glare.
“Although,” she continues, “I admit that kind of knowledge must make the sex doubly excit-”
Before she can finish, Yoko launches her chair backwards and pounds the table with a clenched fist—a stand-in for Saki's face, I'm sure—then barks, “That's enough, Enomoto!” and points at the door as she yells, “Out! Get the hell out!”
Seemingly unaffected, Saki retorts, “It's a free room-”
“Out!” Yoko repeats, hitting the table again and sending her fork falling to the floor. As it rattles, Yoko seethes, “I'm not joining your stupid club, and I've tried to act civil, but that clearly isn't working!”
“Civil, Guidot...? Which one of us is screaming?” Saki taunts, which is probably the stupidest thing she could have done.
I've been waiting for an opening...
“Now I'm screaming!” I yell, tossing my chair back and standing beside my friend. Aiming my finger squarely at Saki's face, I bark, “Take your crutches, and your rag, and go hobble back to your lair!”
I don't even care that it sounded cheesy...
With the two of us glaring down at her, Saki obviously looks shaken—as indicated by the tremble in her hand—but she maintains that reticent smile as she slowly stands. Collecting her braces, she takes a laboriously long time fitting them onto her forearms, then starts making her way toward the door. The only sound other than the distant television is that of rattling metal and rubber soles on the tiled floor. When she turns her darkly sympathetic facade back to face us, I almost feel bad for just a moment; Saki plays the pitiable cripple better than anyone I know.
“I can tell when I'm not wanted,” she says, her voice pitching upward just a little. Pausing as she pulls the door open, she turns sidelong and remarks, “If you reconsider, you know where to find me, Miss Guidot...” then squints narrowly toward me and adds, “But, do try to keep your dog on a leash...”
That last comment makes me start chasing after her, but Yoko catches my elbow and calms me with a shake of her head. “Not worth it,” she advises, turning to reclaim her chair, “thanks for the gesture, though...”
Taking a deep breath, then moving to retrieve my own chair, I breathe, “Anytime...!”
I think it'd be doing the world a favor...
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“We can't just say it was a fluke—a one time thing?” I grumble, pushing my way through the exit onto the ground floor.
“Not a chance~! You owe me a shopping trip... and then you'll owe Yoko one... and then me again,” she threatens, though the laughing makes it sound a lot less malicious, “it'll be an endless cycle—you'll always owe one of us a shopping trip, and we'll definitely be collecting~!”
Turning down the hallway, I grumble, “Oh... joy...”
“Don't sound so happy—I fully intend to get your help finding some stuff to drive Tadao up the wall~!” she lilts, driving the metaphorical dagger in to the hilt, “And because I'm such a generous friend, I'll help you seduce Hisao, too!”
This is my life now... all because I lowered my guard for one fleeting moment...
Walking with my shoulder against the wall, I remark, “That's really not-”
“Anyway!” she interrupts loudly, “Did you buy anything for a certain bored, under-appreciated best friend of yours?”
Rolling my eyes as I walk, I sigh and quip, “I considered cyanide...”
“Remember who cooks your meals,” she retorts.
“Right now that's Yoko, actually,” I counter, sniffing the air loudly as I near the door to the common room, “Apparently she cooks Italian food? Said something about gnocchi...”
“Ooh! Must have been a good day at the mall...” she says, trailing off for a moment before chirping, “You're in for a treat~! She made that for Kenta a couple weeks ago—just after we got back from the beach.”
“How did I not know that?” I ask suspiciously.
She pauses for a moment—either to recall something, or come up with a lie—then replies, “I dunno, it was in the middle of finals, so you were probably distracted—I'm pretty sure I mentioned it...”
I'll just add it to the list of things I didn't know about Yoko...
“Anyway!” she blurts again, her voice shifting into a slight whisper as she continues, “Tadao finally found a healer for this stupid dungeon, so I gotta go rape and pillage for a while...”
Confused for just a moment, I give my head a little shake and ask, “He got you back into WoW?”
“Blood Elves are so pretty~!” she cheers, then quietly adds, “But... don't tell the Elf-Lord I've been back into WoW for a couple months now...”
Does that make her the Elf-Lady...?
Shrugging as I stop in front of the door to the common room, I assure her, “Your secret's safe... Elf-Lady,” then cock an eyebrow as I inquire, “How'd that happen, though?”
“Tall, dark and brooding convinced me I should channel my pent-up bloodlust into murder and mayhem, so I made a pretty blond rogue with twin-tails! So, I guess I really am the Elf-Lady now...” she describes, then adds a pirate-like gruffness to her voice as she continues, “A'though aye think 'e jus' wan'ed someone comp'tent t' raid with,” then loses the voice to chirp, “but, I'm flattered either way!”
“It's both!” I hear an as-yet-unheard-from voice add from the background. Tadao sounds distracted, but I imagine he heard most of our conversation, especially when he shouts, “Hisao really likes black, by the way—I hope you got something in black!”
For just a moment I feel compelled to answer, but then I realize what I'd be confirming, and to whom, so I stop myself and instead ask, “Think I should revive my account? We could make quite a threesome-” I stop and groan, “forget I said that...”
“Aiko says she wants to try a threesome~!” Amaya immediately echoes for Tadao as I hear the phone switch into speaker mode. Barely holding back her laughter, she adds, “I'd be okay with it... but there's logistics involved...”
“I'm not sure what Hisao would say about it, either...” Tadao adds, if only to spite my imagination.
They both break into laughter, and I consider hanging up the phone in the meantime, but I'm the one who caused this disturbing conversation, so I stay my hand. After a few moments I get frustrated waiting for one of them to calm down, so I blurt, “You two done with the giggle-fest? You both know I was talking about the game...”
“Yeah, I know,” Tadao confirms, settling himself before continuing, “Sounds like a good time—I'm sure we could get you a warlock power-leveled in a week or two...”
“You know me so well...” I reply.
“Hey, if anyone I know can suck the life out of someone, it'd be... you...?” he retorts, though I think he's reconsidering his words. Apparently realizing the double meaning, if a bit too late, he adds, “That's not how I meant it... and for the record, I have no idea what I'm talking about...”
Just to make matters worse, Amaya adds, “Oh it's totally true—I'm sure Hisao can confirm~!”
I think they do this on purpose... no, I know they do this on purpose...
“Well, anyway...” Tadao grumbles, sounding less then enthused at the prospect of continuing the suggestive asides, “You serious about playing again?”
“Yeah, sure... not much else to do around here,” I confirm, shrugging as I peek into the common room. The narrow window only lets me see a few people, but I can see Yoko's distinct figure standing by the stove, apparently talking in animated fashion with someone I can't quite see. “I can probably convince Yoko to get an account and make a priest or something,” I say, smirking as an idea strikes me, “then we'd be Tadao's Angels.”
“Ooh~! So shall it be written, so shall it be done~!” Amaya agrees, laughing bawdily for a moment before adding, “We'll find some noobs and make the guild later on tonight~!”
Closing my eyes and shaking my head, I groan, “It's not guaranteed-”
“We really gotta go,” she interrupts, “this druid's getting antsy, and I'm not standing around here for another hour waiting for another healer...”
Sounding hopeful, Tadao adds, “If you make a character, send my new paladin a whisper in-game—my name is Literamus.”
“And I'm Literamus' ho~!” Amaya announces, “all one word.”
So, Literamusho...? Sounds Chinese...
Shaking my head, I flatly reply, “How... fitting.”
She giggles for a moment, then adds, “It's true, though—I'm totally his ho!”
“Thanks, I sort of... guessed that,” I mumble.
“Okay we gotta go,” she states, heaving a sigh before adding, “paladin, rogue, druid, mage, warrior... this might work.”
Chuckling lightly, I remark, “Okay, well... remember... rogues do it from behind...”
“Don't I know it~!” she quips as the line cuts.
I... don't wanna know whether that had a double meaning...
Pushing my way through the door quickly, if only to knock the images out of my mind, I'm greeted by a bright smile from Yoko. Gone are the Capri pants and floral blouse—which still looked fabulous while drenched in rainwater—replaced with a plain white t-shirt and sweatpants with something written along one leg; it's in English, and I'm too tired to translate it for myself. She looks a little perturbed—perhaps because I took so long getting here—but she doesn't bother saying anything to that effect. Instead she just points toward the kitchen table where an unfamiliar blond girl is seated.
Actually, she isn't completely unfamiliar; I recognize her sharp features and the walking braces leaning against the table next to her, along with the snobbish way she's sitting with her legs crossed, nose up and eyes down, but I can't recall her name. Because the universe often conspires to embarrass me, I expect her to strike up a conversation the moment I'm seated, but she's engrossed in reading a magazine—some fashion rag I don't recognize. That reminds me that this particular blond girl leads the Fashion Club, and is quite famous—or infamous—for being a snob, but her name still escapes my memory.
I really am bad with names... I'd probably forget my own if nobody said it...
If she even notices my presence at all, I don't see any indication, though I get the sense that she isn't acknowledging my existence purposefully—typical snob. Fortunately, Yoko soon appears at the tableside carrying a pair of elegantly plated bowls of pasta and red sauce. She offers me a kind smile as she sets them down, but it seems like she's ignoring the blond girl—I sense a disturbance. Once Yoko is seated, the mystery snob glances toward her and offers a strained smile; it seems they know each other, though if I account for their mutually narrowed eyes, I don't think their relationship is entirely amicable.
I really wish I could remember this blond girl's name...
Waving a hand toward my bowl, Yoko announces, “Gnocchi in bolognese a'la Viera Guidot—that's my grandmother, if you're wondering-”
“We weren't,” interjects the blond girl.
“Nobody asked you, Saki,” Yoko grumbles, breaking her grin for just a moment, “I was talking to Aiko, although I can see how you'd fail to make that distinction, seeing as how you're as obstinate as you are vain...”
“And yet you claim you're above petty insults,” the blond girl retorts, aiming her painted smile toward me, “How do you put up with this deviant?”
I definitely walked into an argument... and now I know why: Saki Enomoto...
“Leave my friends alone,” Yoko protests, saving me from having to reply—I wouldn't be quite so cordial.
Turning her narrowed brown eyes at Yoko, the girl counters, “Friends...? I only see the one...”
This little blond bitch is getting on my nerves...
Since our first year, Snobby Saki—short of stature and vain of purpose—has been trying and failing to get a Yamaku Fashion Club off the ground. Always starved for members, and seeming to teeter on the verge of collapse, the club's repeated failures probably result from its leader's reportedly fickle, totalitarian leadership and acerbic personality, but Saki is an expert at deflecting blame. Knowing what I do about Yoko's aptitudes, I assume Saki is here to pressure her into joining; that's the most likely case, though considering their apparent animosity, I wonder if she's just here to poke the bear.
I really hope I don't have to poke back; I just wanna have a meal in peace...
It seems they're happy to trade sneers instead of arguing openly for the moment, but this has become quite an uncomfortable chair; it's like they're having a cold war and I've become the Berlin Wall—the tension is making me lose my appetite. This pasta looks delicious and smells wonderful, and I can still feel that hungry pit in my stomach, but someone has to keep an eye on these two, so I'm stuck sitting here, starving before plenty. Meanwhile, Yoko digs into her food with reckless abandon, barely stopping to breathe between bites, all the while angling a spiteful stare at Saki.
I honestly don't know whether to join in or beg for a truce...
While Yoko is gnashing and I'm staring perplexedly, the blond girl focuses on her magazine, though the sour expression broadcasts her ill mood. If I were to guess, I'd assume Saki has been trying to recruit Yoko for a while, and, knowing Saki's reputation, I'm hardly surprised to find that Yoko has rebuffed her advances. Then again, it's also possible that Saki just hates good food and comes down here to annoy people who are trying to eat. Either way, I wish she would just leave so I don't feel like I have to stand between her and my friend—physically, if not metaphorically.
Not even looking up from her magazine, and in a dry, matter-of-fact tone, Saki suddenly remarks, “So, your boyfriend has a failing heart...”
Obviously she's aiming her comment at me, and isn't above using Hisao's condition—however she found out about it—as psychological ammunition. From anyone else, that comment might show concern of some kind, but there's nothing remotely humanitarian in her careless tone, which leads me to wonder what a fork would look like shoved in her eyeball. She's trying to get a rise out of one of us, but I doubt it's me; Yoko looks no less perturbed by the comment. For the moment, she's staying quiet, and from the quick nod she's aiming my way, I think she wants me to follow suit.
I've had dealings with bullies... they usually lose power when ignored...
Still looking down at her fashion rag, the self-involved blond girl adds, “It's one thing to involve oneself with a hobbling gimp,” she aims a sharp look at Yoko, then turns toward me, “but you must be quite the humanitarian to waste your time with such a defective model...”
She just effectively insulted Hisao, Kenta, Yoko and myself all in one sentence, but I've heard worse. From the head shaking, I can tell Yoko is still maintaining her cool, though her face is looking a little redder than normal—it was probably the reference to Kenta. Meanwhile, Saki aims her haughty expression at me, as if expecting some kind of response, but all I bother offering is a seething glare.
“Although,” she continues, “I admit that kind of knowledge must make the sex doubly excit-”
Before she can finish, Yoko launches her chair backwards and pounds the table with a clenched fist—a stand-in for Saki's face, I'm sure—then barks, “That's enough, Enomoto!” and points at the door as she yells, “Out! Get the hell out!”
Seemingly unaffected, Saki retorts, “It's a free room-”
“Out!” Yoko repeats, hitting the table again and sending her fork falling to the floor. As it rattles, Yoko seethes, “I'm not joining your stupid club, and I've tried to act civil, but that clearly isn't working!”
“Civil, Guidot...? Which one of us is screaming?” Saki taunts, which is probably the stupidest thing she could have done.
I've been waiting for an opening...
“Now I'm screaming!” I yell, tossing my chair back and standing beside my friend. Aiming my finger squarely at Saki's face, I bark, “Take your crutches, and your rag, and go hobble back to your lair!”
I don't even care that it sounded cheesy...
With the two of us glaring down at her, Saki obviously looks shaken—as indicated by the tremble in her hand—but she maintains that reticent smile as she slowly stands. Collecting her braces, she takes a laboriously long time fitting them onto her forearms, then starts making her way toward the door. The only sound other than the distant television is that of rattling metal and rubber soles on the tiled floor. When she turns her darkly sympathetic facade back to face us, I almost feel bad for just a moment; Saki plays the pitiable cripple better than anyone I know.
“I can tell when I'm not wanted,” she says, her voice pitching upward just a little. Pausing as she pulls the door open, she turns sidelong and remarks, “If you reconsider, you know where to find me, Miss Guidot...” then squints narrowly toward me and adds, “But, do try to keep your dog on a leash...”
That last comment makes me start chasing after her, but Yoko catches my elbow and calms me with a shake of her head. “Not worth it,” she advises, turning to reclaim her chair, “thanks for the gesture, though...”
Taking a deep breath, then moving to retrieve my own chair, I breathe, “Anytime...!”
I think it'd be doing the world a favor...
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Last edited by Helbereth on Thu Feb 27, 2014 4:48 pm, edited 5 times in total.
Chapter 44 - Mental Block (part 3)
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“Calm down, then,” Yoko advises, patting my shoulder as she jokingly adds, “for the record, you could totally take her...”
Huffing out the breath, I chuckle and reply, “Beat her to death with her own crutches...”
“Me first!” says a voice from the sofa, followed by a hearty giggle.
Laughing, Yoko aims a smile toward the girl on the sofa and remarks, “The line forms after me, Misaki...”
“So you, me... then Aiko?” the giggly girl surmises.
Sitting down in her reclaimed chair, Yoko jokes, “If there's anything left when I'm done...”
As I'm sitting down, Yoko notices my confused look—aimed at the dark-haired girl whom I can't quite identify—and remarks, “That's Misaki Kawana—she's in Hisao's class... we met during my brief tenure with the Fashion Club.”
“Oh,” I mumble, nodding toward the meek looking girl. “Hi, I'm-”
“Aiko Kurai—Class Rep from three-one,” Misaki interrupts, her fast talking seeming to come from nervousness rather than confidence, “Heterochromia, voluptuous figure, average height—very easy to light and frame, though you're a bit camera shy... I have some archives from-”
Seeing my bewildered look, Yoko interjects, “Misaki is a photographer—or wants to be...”
“Ah...”
“Yeah! I've been taking pictures since I was seven... or maybe six... I can never remember—Mom always remembers,” the nervous girl rambles, “Sometimes I dream with cross-hairs in my vision, which is probably just a ghost image left imprinted on my eyes, but that's-”
“She can also talk without stopping until the end of time,” Yoko adds, aiming a raised eyebrow at Misaki, “Or until someone tells her to stop.”
“He-he-he, sorry!” the girl sputters—or maybe that was a laugh—then bows against the arm of the sofa and adds, “I talk a lot when I'm nervous... and I get nervous a lot...”
Understatement of the century...
“I hardly noticed,” I remark, turning toward Yoko, “So, you were in the Fashion Club? How did I not know that?”
“Later,” Yoko requests, nodding toward our bowls, “That's not pleasant dinner conversation...”
That's probably best because I'm still reeling from seeing Yoko get angry. If it had been Amaya, I wouldn't even flinch, but this is mild-mannered Yoko; I've seen her stomp her foot and pout, or narrow her eyes, or even raise her voice a few times, but never all at once, or in such animated fashion. She hasn't been anything but polite to anyone in my recollection, and she's dating Kenta of all people; that alone shows a great deal of tolerance. Assuming that's normal for Yoko—I've been wrong before—I wonder what Saki did to earn such ire because I'd like to avoid repeating her mistakes.
I can probably start by not being an atomic bitch...
While I'm thinking to myself, I notice a presence at my side and turn up to see Misaki grinning broadly and holding out a hand in greeting. “Yoko tells me you like swimming, right?” she says, to which I return a slow nod. “We should be friends, then! You can call me Misaki, like Yoko... or just Missy,” she offers, nodding gleefully, “My dad's an oceanographer—he studies marine life!”
“Um... okay...” I mumble.
Not missing a beat, she continues, “Some of my best pictures were taken from the bow of his research vessel—I could show you sometime!”
“Cool,” I say, honestly smiling as I reach up to shake her hand, “Um... Misaki it is, then? And you can call me Aiko.”
“Or just Swimderella,” Yoko adds.
Rolling my eyes at her, I quip, “Quiet, Jellybean.”
“He-he-he~!” Misaki giggles as Yoko pouts. Beaming a broad smile, she gives my hand a vigorous shake, then pivots on one foot and marches toward the door. “Catch ya later, Yoko!” she says, pulling it open and leaning against the jamb, “Save me a few hits if you end up pummeling Saki~!”
As she heads into the hallway, Yoko calls after her, “No guarantees!”
“Nice meeting you, Aiko!” Misaki calls back, her voice muffled by the closing door.
Before I can say anything, or even wave, the nervous little aspiring photographer has disappeared, though I can hear her mumbling to herself all the way to the stairwell. While I'm staring dumbly at the door, Yoko pokes my shoulder, and I turn to see her smirking derisively; apparently she enjoyed seeing two of her friends meet—or she just likes seeing me at a disadvantage. This makes me wonder how many other friends Yoko has that I don't know about, though I don't really find her popularity that surprising; getting along with her is easy once you get past the shy, nervous stage.
I'm leagues ahead of Saki in that respect, I think...
“I like her,” I mention, if only to fill the silence.
Nodding, Yoko remarks, “She's really nice, and usually quieter... once you get to know her, anyway; she talks a lot less when she isn't nervous.”
“So she's the exact opposite of you, then?” I quip.
She sucks in a breath and leans forward like she might argue against my observation, but then just sighs and nods. With Saki gone, and Misaki out of our hair, we almost have the room to ourselves—except for the five other girls milling about, of course. None of them are bothering us, though, so we go back to our meal, and the whirlwind of activity leads into a lull of mediocrity as the excitement is nearly forgotten. Considering the source, that's hardly surprising; Saki is almost as infamous for causing unrest among her classmates as our dear, misunderstood, bespectacled Class President.
I might even say she makes Shizune seem civil...
Whatever may have caused the aforementioned excitement, Yoko doesn't want to bring it up over dinner, and I can't say I blame her. Fortunately the tension has been cut, so I feel free to eat, and Yoko evidently has some skill in the kitchen. It's also possible this all tastes awesome because I'm hungry, but I've always been a fussy eater—that's why I'll do anything to avoid the cafeteria. While we're eating, Yoko says very little, though that may only be because she never doesn't have her mouth full of food; apparently she feels comfortable enough to drop her table manners in my presence.
I'm not sure whether that's good or bad...
As I'm lifting one of my last morsels up, I notice Yoko has finished, so I decide to ask, “You gonna explain what the heck just happened?”
She fidgets for a moment, and casts a glance toward the sofa where a few girls remain. They're all watching something on television, so, satisfied that they're absorbed in the show, Yoko sucks in a breath and replies, “It's... complicated?”
“Seemed pretty simple to me,” I retort, taking the bite as she lets out a laborious groan.
Shrugging, she explains, “She wants me to rejoin the Fashion Club...”
“I gathered that,” I reply through the mouthful, then quirk an eyebrow and inquire, “And what's this rejoin business?”
Rolling her eyes, she rests her chin down on her folded forearms and explains, “She extended an invitation back in March sometime—just after school started.”
“Weird...”
“Not really,” she retorts, “I was practically leading a Fashion Club at my old school...”
I'd say that's surprising, but I'd be lying...
When she notices my lack of a surprised gasp, she continues, “It was on my transcripts, and apparently she found out, so she asked me to join hers...”
After swallowing the bite, I remark, “Didn't work out so well, I gather...”
“No, not at all,” she affirms, then rests her head sideways and adds, “she actually made me want to hide my fashion knowledge...”
Finding that admission surprising, I stare at her blankly for a few moments before prompting, “Why?”
“I dunno, really,” she says, turning her head to the other side and furrowing her brow, “Maybe I thought if I played dumb she'd leave me alone?”
I can see that... not working as planned...
My few interactions with Saki over the years—this having been one of the most thankfully brief—have taught me one thing: associating with her is a fool's errand—that may be why I forgot her name. In some ways she reminds me of myself, or at least the Aiko that started at Yamaku three years ago. The name of her condition escapes my memory, but Saki has some kind of degenerative muscular disorder that will probably result in an early demise, so we have that in common. However, instead of keeping it a closely-guarded secret, Saki uses her condition to get what she wants—it's deplorable, but effective.
“So, did she give you the oh, poor me speech?” I ask, rolling my eyes for emphasis.
“About her spino-cerebellar ataxia?” Yoko replies, and I nod as I marvel at her memory—I'll probably forget that name in... I've already forgotten. “Oh, that was almost the first thing she mentioned—quite the sob story,” she adds, lifting her head as she continues, “kinda like Tadao and his neurofibromatosis type two, except it was for-”
“Sympathy instead of acceptance,” I finish her statement, then add, “I fell for it too—we all have at some point...”
“Well, I feel less stupid, at least,” she says with a resigned sigh.
Pushing my empty bowl away, I sink down to rest my chin on my arms and smile as I reply, “Don't feel bad—compassion is a good thing.”
“It's just an angle for her, though,” she retorts, shaking her head and siting up to stretch her arms, “It took me a week to figure it out, and another week after that before I left her little dictatorship... and she's been hounding me ever since.”
As I don't really have any solutions to offer, I simply shrug and remark, “That sucks...”
“What sucks is I'd love to join the Fashion Club, but not with her at the helm,” she laments, smiling despite her complaints, “I'd rather have to drag you to the mall and spend the day listening to you complain than spend five minutes in a sewing room with her...”
“I'll... take that as a compliment,” I say, sitting up to shake my head. “And you can always drag Amaya along instead,” I suggest, quirking a hopeful smile, “she loves the mall.”
“Yeah but we already worked out the swapping plan—we're gonna keep you in shopping-trip-debt through university,” she retorts; apparently she already discussed this with my dear, under-appreciated best friend. “We'll make a girl of you yet,” she adds, ignoring my disgruntled pout, “maybe that's too much to shoot for, but we've got some ambitious plans~!”
I simply can't wait to get started...
“You two will be the death of me,” I say, and Yoko moves to reply, but my satchel starts buzzing. “Um...” I mumble, reaching for the bag, “what time is it?”
“Eight-ish,” Yoko replies, “expecting a call?”
“No...” I say, picking the phone out and looking at the screen. “Blocked again?” I groan, turning the screen around to show Yoko, “Got one of these earlier—you didn't give your dad my number, did you?”
Shaking her head, she sharply replies, “No—why would I do that?”
“Sign me up for a mailing list or something, then?” I press.
“Nope~!” she assures me, which might be a lie, “I bet it's Kenta—if it is, tell him he's a dork...”
“So I should answer?”
“I answer any call,” she states, then shrugs at my raised eyebrow and explains, “Worst case scenario: you just hang up when they start breathing heavy, or ask for a credit card number.”
Oh, what the hell...
Still tentatively, I press send and hold the phone up to my ear, only to find a lot of static and what sounds like rushing wind. “Uh, hello?” I prompt, “Who's calling?” The noise on the line is either from the background or a bad connection, but no distinct voice is rising over the cacophony. “Is anybody there?” I add, feeling like I'm talking to empty space, “Hello?”
“Aik-! Are -u there? H-llo...?” a scratchy voice finally replies, “Ca- yo- hear -e?”
“Barely!” I yell, trying to identify the voice behind all the static, “Who is this?”
“It's His-o!” he replies, and my heart skips a beat, “I'm o- a b-at!”
I'm never ignoring a blocked call again...
“What?” I ask, giggling girlishly and standing as I aim a broad smile at Yoko, “Where are you?”
“A boat!” he yells, trying to defeat the static with sheer volume, “I borr-wed Kaori's sat-phone—tried ear-ier and got your message ser-ice, but-” the crackling static garbles the rest of his sentence, “...trying to -all you!”
As Yoko stands up and meets my grin with a giddy smirk, I turn aside and explain, “You're breaking up—I didn't get most of that.”
“Breaking up? No, I just-” he sputters, then there's a loud slamming noise, which greatly reduces the static—maybe it was a door. “Must be the rain,” he says, sounding a whole lot clearer, “it's like a typhoon out there!”
Out of the corner of my eye I can see Yoko pointing at my phone, so I oblige and put Hisao on speaker. “Say hi to Yoko,” I say, holding the phone up, “she's been keeping me sane in your absence...”
“Uh, hi to Yoko?” he deadpans.
“It is! I knew it~!” she squeals, then slaps her hands across her mouth and starts bouncing giddily.
At least one of us is bouncing like a girl...
While she has her moment, I roll my eyes at the phone and remark, “We'd just about given you up for dead—you got some 'splainin' to do.”
“Yeah, I know—sorry,” he replies, “you remember that cousin I mentioned—Kaori?”
Recalling the name, I surmise, “The former Olympic skiing hopeful?”
“That's the one,” he affirms, “she's got two little boys now, and thought it'd be a great idea to charter a boat for a week or two—sort of an impromptu family vacation...”
“And your phone?”
“Probably dead by now—it wouldn't work out here anyway,” he says, which I guess makes sense; depending on how far they are from shore, there probably wouldn't be any service available. “Anyway, I would have gotten a hand on the sat-phone earlier, but... I hadn't told them about you yet...”
“Um, what's that supposed to mean?” I ask, not fully understanding.
He sputters incoherently for a few seconds before replying, “They didn't know I had a girlfriend to check in with until... very recently.”
Pausing to think, and try not to react out of spite, I calmly ask, “And... why not?”
“I wasn't hiding it if that's what you're asking,” he assures me, then chuckles and adds, “I had to make sure they knew I was fine before telling them about you—and for the record... they're beyond happy.”
“Is that so...”
“Mom was a little... weird about it at first, but Dad is beside himself—he was worried I'd be afraid of girls after what happened with Iwanako...” he explains, chuckling to himself, “I never knew he had that side to him, actually...”
Squinting narrowly, I inquire, “Just how much did you tell them?”
He pauses for a moment, then lowers his voice to whisper, “Nothing about empirical data—figured that'd be too much information.”
I'll have to take his word on that...
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“Calm down, then,” Yoko advises, patting my shoulder as she jokingly adds, “for the record, you could totally take her...”
Huffing out the breath, I chuckle and reply, “Beat her to death with her own crutches...”
“Me first!” says a voice from the sofa, followed by a hearty giggle.
Laughing, Yoko aims a smile toward the girl on the sofa and remarks, “The line forms after me, Misaki...”
“So you, me... then Aiko?” the giggly girl surmises.
Sitting down in her reclaimed chair, Yoko jokes, “If there's anything left when I'm done...”
As I'm sitting down, Yoko notices my confused look—aimed at the dark-haired girl whom I can't quite identify—and remarks, “That's Misaki Kawana—she's in Hisao's class... we met during my brief tenure with the Fashion Club.”
“Oh,” I mumble, nodding toward the meek looking girl. “Hi, I'm-”
“Aiko Kurai—Class Rep from three-one,” Misaki interrupts, her fast talking seeming to come from nervousness rather than confidence, “Heterochromia, voluptuous figure, average height—very easy to light and frame, though you're a bit camera shy... I have some archives from-”
Seeing my bewildered look, Yoko interjects, “Misaki is a photographer—or wants to be...”
“Ah...”
“Yeah! I've been taking pictures since I was seven... or maybe six... I can never remember—Mom always remembers,” the nervous girl rambles, “Sometimes I dream with cross-hairs in my vision, which is probably just a ghost image left imprinted on my eyes, but that's-”
“She can also talk without stopping until the end of time,” Yoko adds, aiming a raised eyebrow at Misaki, “Or until someone tells her to stop.”
“He-he-he, sorry!” the girl sputters—or maybe that was a laugh—then bows against the arm of the sofa and adds, “I talk a lot when I'm nervous... and I get nervous a lot...”
Understatement of the century...
“I hardly noticed,” I remark, turning toward Yoko, “So, you were in the Fashion Club? How did I not know that?”
“Later,” Yoko requests, nodding toward our bowls, “That's not pleasant dinner conversation...”
That's probably best because I'm still reeling from seeing Yoko get angry. If it had been Amaya, I wouldn't even flinch, but this is mild-mannered Yoko; I've seen her stomp her foot and pout, or narrow her eyes, or even raise her voice a few times, but never all at once, or in such animated fashion. She hasn't been anything but polite to anyone in my recollection, and she's dating Kenta of all people; that alone shows a great deal of tolerance. Assuming that's normal for Yoko—I've been wrong before—I wonder what Saki did to earn such ire because I'd like to avoid repeating her mistakes.
I can probably start by not being an atomic bitch...
While I'm thinking to myself, I notice a presence at my side and turn up to see Misaki grinning broadly and holding out a hand in greeting. “Yoko tells me you like swimming, right?” she says, to which I return a slow nod. “We should be friends, then! You can call me Misaki, like Yoko... or just Missy,” she offers, nodding gleefully, “My dad's an oceanographer—he studies marine life!”
“Um... okay...” I mumble.
Not missing a beat, she continues, “Some of my best pictures were taken from the bow of his research vessel—I could show you sometime!”
“Cool,” I say, honestly smiling as I reach up to shake her hand, “Um... Misaki it is, then? And you can call me Aiko.”
“Or just Swimderella,” Yoko adds.
Rolling my eyes at her, I quip, “Quiet, Jellybean.”
“He-he-he~!” Misaki giggles as Yoko pouts. Beaming a broad smile, she gives my hand a vigorous shake, then pivots on one foot and marches toward the door. “Catch ya later, Yoko!” she says, pulling it open and leaning against the jamb, “Save me a few hits if you end up pummeling Saki~!”
As she heads into the hallway, Yoko calls after her, “No guarantees!”
“Nice meeting you, Aiko!” Misaki calls back, her voice muffled by the closing door.
Before I can say anything, or even wave, the nervous little aspiring photographer has disappeared, though I can hear her mumbling to herself all the way to the stairwell. While I'm staring dumbly at the door, Yoko pokes my shoulder, and I turn to see her smirking derisively; apparently she enjoyed seeing two of her friends meet—or she just likes seeing me at a disadvantage. This makes me wonder how many other friends Yoko has that I don't know about, though I don't really find her popularity that surprising; getting along with her is easy once you get past the shy, nervous stage.
I'm leagues ahead of Saki in that respect, I think...
“I like her,” I mention, if only to fill the silence.
Nodding, Yoko remarks, “She's really nice, and usually quieter... once you get to know her, anyway; she talks a lot less when she isn't nervous.”
“So she's the exact opposite of you, then?” I quip.
She sucks in a breath and leans forward like she might argue against my observation, but then just sighs and nods. With Saki gone, and Misaki out of our hair, we almost have the room to ourselves—except for the five other girls milling about, of course. None of them are bothering us, though, so we go back to our meal, and the whirlwind of activity leads into a lull of mediocrity as the excitement is nearly forgotten. Considering the source, that's hardly surprising; Saki is almost as infamous for causing unrest among her classmates as our dear, misunderstood, bespectacled Class President.
I might even say she makes Shizune seem civil...
Whatever may have caused the aforementioned excitement, Yoko doesn't want to bring it up over dinner, and I can't say I blame her. Fortunately the tension has been cut, so I feel free to eat, and Yoko evidently has some skill in the kitchen. It's also possible this all tastes awesome because I'm hungry, but I've always been a fussy eater—that's why I'll do anything to avoid the cafeteria. While we're eating, Yoko says very little, though that may only be because she never doesn't have her mouth full of food; apparently she feels comfortable enough to drop her table manners in my presence.
I'm not sure whether that's good or bad...
As I'm lifting one of my last morsels up, I notice Yoko has finished, so I decide to ask, “You gonna explain what the heck just happened?”
She fidgets for a moment, and casts a glance toward the sofa where a few girls remain. They're all watching something on television, so, satisfied that they're absorbed in the show, Yoko sucks in a breath and replies, “It's... complicated?”
“Seemed pretty simple to me,” I retort, taking the bite as she lets out a laborious groan.
Shrugging, she explains, “She wants me to rejoin the Fashion Club...”
“I gathered that,” I reply through the mouthful, then quirk an eyebrow and inquire, “And what's this rejoin business?”
Rolling her eyes, she rests her chin down on her folded forearms and explains, “She extended an invitation back in March sometime—just after school started.”
“Weird...”
“Not really,” she retorts, “I was practically leading a Fashion Club at my old school...”
I'd say that's surprising, but I'd be lying...
When she notices my lack of a surprised gasp, she continues, “It was on my transcripts, and apparently she found out, so she asked me to join hers...”
After swallowing the bite, I remark, “Didn't work out so well, I gather...”
“No, not at all,” she affirms, then rests her head sideways and adds, “she actually made me want to hide my fashion knowledge...”
Finding that admission surprising, I stare at her blankly for a few moments before prompting, “Why?”
“I dunno, really,” she says, turning her head to the other side and furrowing her brow, “Maybe I thought if I played dumb she'd leave me alone?”
I can see that... not working as planned...
My few interactions with Saki over the years—this having been one of the most thankfully brief—have taught me one thing: associating with her is a fool's errand—that may be why I forgot her name. In some ways she reminds me of myself, or at least the Aiko that started at Yamaku three years ago. The name of her condition escapes my memory, but Saki has some kind of degenerative muscular disorder that will probably result in an early demise, so we have that in common. However, instead of keeping it a closely-guarded secret, Saki uses her condition to get what she wants—it's deplorable, but effective.
“So, did she give you the oh, poor me speech?” I ask, rolling my eyes for emphasis.
“About her spino-cerebellar ataxia?” Yoko replies, and I nod as I marvel at her memory—I'll probably forget that name in... I've already forgotten. “Oh, that was almost the first thing she mentioned—quite the sob story,” she adds, lifting her head as she continues, “kinda like Tadao and his neurofibromatosis type two, except it was for-”
“Sympathy instead of acceptance,” I finish her statement, then add, “I fell for it too—we all have at some point...”
“Well, I feel less stupid, at least,” she says with a resigned sigh.
Pushing my empty bowl away, I sink down to rest my chin on my arms and smile as I reply, “Don't feel bad—compassion is a good thing.”
“It's just an angle for her, though,” she retorts, shaking her head and siting up to stretch her arms, “It took me a week to figure it out, and another week after that before I left her little dictatorship... and she's been hounding me ever since.”
As I don't really have any solutions to offer, I simply shrug and remark, “That sucks...”
“What sucks is I'd love to join the Fashion Club, but not with her at the helm,” she laments, smiling despite her complaints, “I'd rather have to drag you to the mall and spend the day listening to you complain than spend five minutes in a sewing room with her...”
“I'll... take that as a compliment,” I say, sitting up to shake my head. “And you can always drag Amaya along instead,” I suggest, quirking a hopeful smile, “she loves the mall.”
“Yeah but we already worked out the swapping plan—we're gonna keep you in shopping-trip-debt through university,” she retorts; apparently she already discussed this with my dear, under-appreciated best friend. “We'll make a girl of you yet,” she adds, ignoring my disgruntled pout, “maybe that's too much to shoot for, but we've got some ambitious plans~!”
I simply can't wait to get started...
“You two will be the death of me,” I say, and Yoko moves to reply, but my satchel starts buzzing. “Um...” I mumble, reaching for the bag, “what time is it?”
“Eight-ish,” Yoko replies, “expecting a call?”
“No...” I say, picking the phone out and looking at the screen. “Blocked again?” I groan, turning the screen around to show Yoko, “Got one of these earlier—you didn't give your dad my number, did you?”
Shaking her head, she sharply replies, “No—why would I do that?”
“Sign me up for a mailing list or something, then?” I press.
“Nope~!” she assures me, which might be a lie, “I bet it's Kenta—if it is, tell him he's a dork...”
“So I should answer?”
“I answer any call,” she states, then shrugs at my raised eyebrow and explains, “Worst case scenario: you just hang up when they start breathing heavy, or ask for a credit card number.”
Oh, what the hell...
Still tentatively, I press send and hold the phone up to my ear, only to find a lot of static and what sounds like rushing wind. “Uh, hello?” I prompt, “Who's calling?” The noise on the line is either from the background or a bad connection, but no distinct voice is rising over the cacophony. “Is anybody there?” I add, feeling like I'm talking to empty space, “Hello?”
“Aik-! Are -u there? H-llo...?” a scratchy voice finally replies, “Ca- yo- hear -e?”
“Barely!” I yell, trying to identify the voice behind all the static, “Who is this?”
“It's His-o!” he replies, and my heart skips a beat, “I'm o- a b-at!”
I'm never ignoring a blocked call again...
“What?” I ask, giggling girlishly and standing as I aim a broad smile at Yoko, “Where are you?”
“A boat!” he yells, trying to defeat the static with sheer volume, “I borr-wed Kaori's sat-phone—tried ear-ier and got your message ser-ice, but-” the crackling static garbles the rest of his sentence, “...trying to -all you!”
As Yoko stands up and meets my grin with a giddy smirk, I turn aside and explain, “You're breaking up—I didn't get most of that.”
“Breaking up? No, I just-” he sputters, then there's a loud slamming noise, which greatly reduces the static—maybe it was a door. “Must be the rain,” he says, sounding a whole lot clearer, “it's like a typhoon out there!”
Out of the corner of my eye I can see Yoko pointing at my phone, so I oblige and put Hisao on speaker. “Say hi to Yoko,” I say, holding the phone up, “she's been keeping me sane in your absence...”
“Uh, hi to Yoko?” he deadpans.
“It is! I knew it~!” she squeals, then slaps her hands across her mouth and starts bouncing giddily.
At least one of us is bouncing like a girl...
While she has her moment, I roll my eyes at the phone and remark, “We'd just about given you up for dead—you got some 'splainin' to do.”
“Yeah, I know—sorry,” he replies, “you remember that cousin I mentioned—Kaori?”
Recalling the name, I surmise, “The former Olympic skiing hopeful?”
“That's the one,” he affirms, “she's got two little boys now, and thought it'd be a great idea to charter a boat for a week or two—sort of an impromptu family vacation...”
“And your phone?”
“Probably dead by now—it wouldn't work out here anyway,” he says, which I guess makes sense; depending on how far they are from shore, there probably wouldn't be any service available. “Anyway, I would have gotten a hand on the sat-phone earlier, but... I hadn't told them about you yet...”
“Um, what's that supposed to mean?” I ask, not fully understanding.
He sputters incoherently for a few seconds before replying, “They didn't know I had a girlfriend to check in with until... very recently.”
Pausing to think, and try not to react out of spite, I calmly ask, “And... why not?”
“I wasn't hiding it if that's what you're asking,” he assures me, then chuckles and adds, “I had to make sure they knew I was fine before telling them about you—and for the record... they're beyond happy.”
“Is that so...”
“Mom was a little... weird about it at first, but Dad is beside himself—he was worried I'd be afraid of girls after what happened with Iwanako...” he explains, chuckling to himself, “I never knew he had that side to him, actually...”
Squinting narrowly, I inquire, “Just how much did you tell them?”
He pauses for a moment, then lowers his voice to whisper, “Nothing about empirical data—figured that'd be too much information.”
I'll have to take his word on that...
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Last edited by Helbereth on Thu Feb 27, 2014 4:49 pm, edited 6 times in total.
Chapter 44 - Mental Block (part 4)
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“Anyway, I can't talk long... but, we're headed back to port—it's supposed to be stormy for the next week, so we're cutting the trip short... Good news is I'll be home by tomorrow afternoon,” he explains, then sputters, “Ah, um, well... my home, I mean... um, yeah... this trip just got sprung on me, so I hope you weren't too worried...”
“She almost threw herself off the roof!” Yoko blurts, earning a shoulder punch.
“Don't listen to her,” I say, rolling my eyes, “I'm... fine, basically—missed you like crazy, though.”
He sighs and chuckles nervously—like I put him on the spot. “Missed you too,” he says, then muffles the phone to say something to someone on the other end—I guess he's not alone. His voice sounding forced, he adds, “Mom wants to meet you—Kaori too,” then he whispers, “they're watching me...”
“Aww, how embarrassing!” Yoko chirps, then narrows her eyes a little and whispers, “Make him say he loves you~!”
“What she said,” I say, offering her a thumbs up as Hisao coughs.
“I-I, uh... kshhh! I thin-kshhh the satellite is mo-kshh-ing away,” he sputters, trying to imitate a bad connection.
“I'm not buying it,” I say before he can continue, “say it, or I won't give you the present I bought...”
“Present?” he prompts, then quickly sighs and sputters, “I, uh... I didn't get you anything, though...”
Turning away from Yoko—if only so she can't see my face—I flit my eyebrows at nobody and whisper, “It's not that kind of present...”
“O-oh... uh... right,” he mumbles, then coughs loudly and quickly whispers, “I love you.”
“Louder, Swooner—say it like you haven't had the chance all week!” I demand.
He sighs, and I almost feel bad for putting him through this, but it's small penance for his vanishing act—intended or not. “Okay, fine!” he blurts, then pauses for a long moment before repeating, “I love you,” loud enough to cause a small chorus of muffled cheers and some applause. “Mom, do you have to stand there?” he questions, not bothering to cover the microphone, “What?”
Whatever she's saying, it's too quiet for me to hear, but there's laughing involved. After Hisao returns a few one-word answers, he clears his throat and recites, “I miss you, I love you, and I'm sorry I was a jerk.”
I haven't even met her, but I think I'll like his mom...
Turning back around to see Yoko's approving grin, I smirk and reply, “Love you too—even though you're a jerk.”
“I really am sorry, and I didn't have a choice in the matter,” he says.
There's a bit of static and a thump, then a womanly voice adds, “It's true! We dragged him out here without any warning,” then pauses for a moment as there's another scuffle, “I'll give it back in a second, Squirt, I wanna hear this girl of yours~!”
“Um, hello?” I prompt, not sure who took the phone.
“Heya, you're Aiko, I gather?” she presumes.
Nodding, I reply, “Um, yeah... that's me.. um, to whom am I speaking?”
“Kaori Kobayashi—just think of me like Hisao's big sister,” she says cheerily, “his protective, well-funded, expert in judo and karate big sister,” she adds grimly, “who will hunt you down and make your short life a miserable one if-”
I'm being measured, but two can play that game...
“Nice to meet you,” I interrupt boldly, “allow me to assure you: you have nothing to worry about.”
“Aiko wouldn't hurt a fly!” Yoko adds supportively.
Suspiciously, Kaori inquires, “Who's that?”
“That's Yoko,” I reply, grinning evenly, “she's harmless unless you insult her shoes.”
“Noted,” Kaori states, then pauses for a moment before asking, “You really like my dim-witted cousin?”
“Love, actually,” I reply.
She pauses again before countering, “That just sounds like a movie title,” then chuckles darkly, “you know he's fragile and easily broken, right?”
“No he isn't,” I protest vehemently, “not if I have anything to say about it, anyway.”
Another pause leaves me wondering what she's thinking, but then she chuckles again and replies, “Okay, I can accept that. I'm gonna give the phone back to Poindexter now, but remember: this conversation never happened.”
I'm pretty sure two rooms full of people heard the whole thing...
Playing along, I reply, “What conversation?”
As the phone changes hands again, I hear Kaori mention, “I like her—she sounds hot.”
I guess I'll take that as a compliment...
“Thanks, Kaori,” Hisao mumbles, then loudly proclaims, “See, this is what I'm dealing with!”
Before I can offer a concession, Kaori adds, “Although if he'd said something sooner, I'd have let him call days ago...”
Hisao makes a weird noise that's half way between a chuckle and a groan, then repeats his apology, “Sorry, I'm just-”
“It's okay, I understand,” I stop him mid-sentence, then flatly add, “Just... in the future, I hope I don't embarrass you...”
There's a short pause, followed by a sharp breath and a grumbling reply, “That's just about all you do...”
“You love it, though~!” Yoko chimes in, “Don't deny it!”
As he sighs, I turn off speaker phone and look away, then repeat her accusation, “You love it, though—you can admit it, I'm the only one who'll hear...”
“I admit nothing,” he deflects, then takes another deep breath, “Anyway, I have to get off the phone...”
Disappointed at the brevity of the call, I groan, “Aww, well... watch out for sharks... and whales... and mermaids... and sirens...”
“Wait 'til you see the pictures!” he teases, then, before I can ask what he meant, he adds, “I'll call when I get home—probably on my parents' land line, so expect a strange number...”
Frowning a little, I swing my free hand down to rest on the back of my chair and mumble, “Okay, well... tomorrow, then?”
“Kaori says we should be back around three,” he affirms.
Sitting down, I remark, “I'll be expecting your call,” then warn, “don't be late!”
“If I can help it, I'll call sooner,” he says sweetly, even though that probably won't happen, “Anyway, I really have to go—and again, sorry about disappearing.”
“Don't worry, I'll think of some way to punish you...!” I threaten affectionately.
Sighing, he retorts, “Love you, too!”
As the line cuts and I set the phone down on the table, I notice Yoko retaking her seat. She's quiet, which might just be out of respect, but the sympathetic half-smirk tells me it's more than that.
“I'm fine,” I claim, sighing as I swing around to face her more directly, “He called—that's what I wanted.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, then shrugs and asks, “where is he anyway?”
“On a boat,” I reply, watching her nod thoughtfully for a moment before adding, “with his parents, an older cousin—the one who took the phone—and her two boys. At least that's all he mentioned, anyway...”
“Well that sounds like fun... and it explains why he's been out of contact,” she surmises, leaning back in her chair. “You should be happy,” she adds, furrowing her brow, “but you don't seem like it...”
I am happy...! Aren't I...?
All I really wanted was for Hisao to call, let me know where he's been, and tell me he hasn't been doing anything illicit—or that's what I've been telling myself, at least. Even in my darkest moments I never really thought he was doing anything wrong, and there wasn't anything deceptive in his voice just now, so I ought to feel relieved. Instead what I'm feeling is tension, which is apparently obvious enough for Yoko to notice. It almost feels like some part of me wanted him to have gone back to his old girlfriend, or found a new one, or just decided he wanted to look elsewhere.
Had he gone off and found a new girlfriend or whatever, I wouldn't have to worry about explaining my condition—there wouldn't be a point. However, now that I know he's safe, I'm back to facing those secrets I haven't yet revealed. The time to sit down and explain myself is coming, perhaps sooner than I thought, and I can't help feeling a little panicked. If there has ever been a time for me to try and keep those thoughts from showing on my face it would be now, but, unfortunately, Yoko already pointed out my grim expression, which raises a whole other set of questions.
What would she think of this? Should I tell her? And if so... how?
Those thoughts send my eyes to meet hers, and I almost want to cry seeing how hopeful she looks—she really has no idea. Less than an hour ago she was talking about planning shopping trips, and on an indefinite schedule—throughout university could be a long time—which means she intends to stay friends long after we finish our tenure at Yamaku. That's one of the reasons I could justify telling Amaya: neither of us could honestly say we would ever stop being friends. If Yoko plans to stick around for that long, it would only be fair to tell her—just like Hisao—that my forever won't last as long.
Obviously Yoko and I don't have nearly as much history—I'd known Amaya for almost two years before dropping that bomb on her—but we've become friends much faster. Usually I don't make friends quite so easily, and I don't want to burden her with something so heavy so soon, though I doubt she'll be anything but supportive; I don't think there's a malicious bone in her body. Still, considering where we are—surrounded by classmates and underclassmen, most of whom I barely know—I don't think now is the best time to discuss such ominous future events.
I don't want anonymous sympathy, I just want my friend's acceptance...
She's still looking at me, expecting me to say something, so I shake my head to dispel the grimness. “I'm just a little overwhelmed,” I claim, deciding to omit my exact reason. Pushing out a smile, I add, “He's safe, I'm alright... and we have a camping trip to plan.”
“Right~!” she lilts, apparently accepting my vague explanation. “We're leaving early on Friday, so you should get to bed early,” she advises, standing to start collecting our bowls, “I'll take care of the dishes... you should go count sheep...” she smirks derisively, “or do... whatever it is you do to fall asleep...”
I think now is as good a time as any...
“I'm sure Kenta will appreciate how well you know your own body,” I quip, standing to head for the door.
Turning to smirk over my shoulder, I see her sneering at me, but then she just grins and retorts, “He better! I named my favorite-”
“Never mind!” I blurt to stop her comment, pulling the door open, “Just... I'll see you tomorrow?”
Nodding as she heads for the sink, she rambles, “Oh, definitely—we have a dozen things to get ready, bags to pack, rations to stow... Oh, and-”
“G'night Miss Rabbit!” I interject, letting the door swing itself closed as I exit into the hallway.
As it clicks shut, Yoko calls after me, “Sweet dreams, Swimderella~!”
I think Yoko would make a pretty awesome step-sister...
Despite how late I slept, I had quite a busy day, and it's apparently catching up with me as I start yawning before I've even reached the stairs. That's probably good because—as Yoko pointed out—we have an early morning coming Friday, and that thought actually plants a comfortable smile on my face as I climb up the three flights of stairs. Tomorrow we'll focus on packing, clearing up some details with Shizune, and getting our last will and testaments notarized—just in case. That last part is probably a fatigue-induced exaggeration, but it gives me a reason to chuckle on the way to my room.
It's dark inside when I crash through the door, and the dim, cloud-covered moonlight doesn't help me find much more than the outline of my bed, but leaving the lights off might help me get to sleep easier. The knowledge that Hisao isn't off carousing with some floozy also helps, although reminding myself of that invites other darker thoughts as I curl up around my pillow. At this point I'm really just going through the motions; I already decided to tell him, so now it's just a matter of waiting for the right time, and then actually saying the words—neither of which I've really thought much about, incidentally.
How do you tell someone you love that you're dying...?
If I follow the examples from movies, television and video games, all I need to wait for is a crescendo in the music. That might make it easier at least, but, unfortunately, unless my phone has an app for that—I'm pretty sure it doesn't—that won't work in the real world. Usually those scenes are also very intimate, and in a nice secluded location, so maybe it's all about the surroundings. For me, I think a remote cabin in the woods would be perfect, though Hisao will be on the other side of the country while I'm there. Although, even if he was going along, that still wouldn't help me figure out what to say.
I can't just say, “Hey, Hisao... guess who has two thumbs and will be dead by forty!” …Can I...?
All I'm sure of is that thinking about this makes me wish I was just confessing my love all over again; that was way simpler. At the time it felt like climbing the biggest wall I'd ever encountered socially, but apparently that was just the fence surrounding the fortress. Once I got finished prancing through the garden—where the castle garden represents sex—I found myself staring up at a lichen-covered stone wall ten times taller than the fence. At the top is romantic bliss, but it feels like every craggy stone on the climb is slick from rain and ready to crumble under my weight.
I think I understand the Rapunzel story a little better now...
It might be easier if Hisao had a coif of long hair he could let down for me to climb, but with my luck it'd all be split ends and end up snapping before I got half way up to his window. It seems I'll be stuck scurrying up the lichens without any climbing gear, so all I can do is pray they don't tear out of the bricks. Still, I have to try; love is worth the effort—it has to be, or else nobody would bother. Not only that, but Hisao is worth the effort; he loves me—he said so—and I have to believe that means something, even if all it amounts to ends up falling apart, one way or another.
I won't let a little thing like crushing despair stop me from reaching the parapet...
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Usually I write a footnote before actually publishing the parts, but I forgot (I'm out of practice). Honestly, after spending so much time writing this, I have nothing really to say... I'm hoping someone can tell me whether it's garbage or not...
Oh, I guess I'll add this while I'm here:
Oh, and I didn't italicize any of Aiko's thoughts... Ugh, I'm so out of practice... Doing that now.
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“Anyway, I can't talk long... but, we're headed back to port—it's supposed to be stormy for the next week, so we're cutting the trip short... Good news is I'll be home by tomorrow afternoon,” he explains, then sputters, “Ah, um, well... my home, I mean... um, yeah... this trip just got sprung on me, so I hope you weren't too worried...”
“She almost threw herself off the roof!” Yoko blurts, earning a shoulder punch.
“Don't listen to her,” I say, rolling my eyes, “I'm... fine, basically—missed you like crazy, though.”
He sighs and chuckles nervously—like I put him on the spot. “Missed you too,” he says, then muffles the phone to say something to someone on the other end—I guess he's not alone. His voice sounding forced, he adds, “Mom wants to meet you—Kaori too,” then he whispers, “they're watching me...”
“Aww, how embarrassing!” Yoko chirps, then narrows her eyes a little and whispers, “Make him say he loves you~!”
“What she said,” I say, offering her a thumbs up as Hisao coughs.
“I-I, uh... kshhh! I thin-kshhh the satellite is mo-kshh-ing away,” he sputters, trying to imitate a bad connection.
“I'm not buying it,” I say before he can continue, “say it, or I won't give you the present I bought...”
“Present?” he prompts, then quickly sighs and sputters, “I, uh... I didn't get you anything, though...”
Turning away from Yoko—if only so she can't see my face—I flit my eyebrows at nobody and whisper, “It's not that kind of present...”
“O-oh... uh... right,” he mumbles, then coughs loudly and quickly whispers, “I love you.”
“Louder, Swooner—say it like you haven't had the chance all week!” I demand.
He sighs, and I almost feel bad for putting him through this, but it's small penance for his vanishing act—intended or not. “Okay, fine!” he blurts, then pauses for a long moment before repeating, “I love you,” loud enough to cause a small chorus of muffled cheers and some applause. “Mom, do you have to stand there?” he questions, not bothering to cover the microphone, “What?”
Whatever she's saying, it's too quiet for me to hear, but there's laughing involved. After Hisao returns a few one-word answers, he clears his throat and recites, “I miss you, I love you, and I'm sorry I was a jerk.”
I haven't even met her, but I think I'll like his mom...
Turning back around to see Yoko's approving grin, I smirk and reply, “Love you too—even though you're a jerk.”
“I really am sorry, and I didn't have a choice in the matter,” he says.
There's a bit of static and a thump, then a womanly voice adds, “It's true! We dragged him out here without any warning,” then pauses for a moment as there's another scuffle, “I'll give it back in a second, Squirt, I wanna hear this girl of yours~!”
“Um, hello?” I prompt, not sure who took the phone.
“Heya, you're Aiko, I gather?” she presumes.
Nodding, I reply, “Um, yeah... that's me.. um, to whom am I speaking?”
“Kaori Kobayashi—just think of me like Hisao's big sister,” she says cheerily, “his protective, well-funded, expert in judo and karate big sister,” she adds grimly, “who will hunt you down and make your short life a miserable one if-”
I'm being measured, but two can play that game...
“Nice to meet you,” I interrupt boldly, “allow me to assure you: you have nothing to worry about.”
“Aiko wouldn't hurt a fly!” Yoko adds supportively.
Suspiciously, Kaori inquires, “Who's that?”
“That's Yoko,” I reply, grinning evenly, “she's harmless unless you insult her shoes.”
“Noted,” Kaori states, then pauses for a moment before asking, “You really like my dim-witted cousin?”
“Love, actually,” I reply.
She pauses again before countering, “That just sounds like a movie title,” then chuckles darkly, “you know he's fragile and easily broken, right?”
“No he isn't,” I protest vehemently, “not if I have anything to say about it, anyway.”
Another pause leaves me wondering what she's thinking, but then she chuckles again and replies, “Okay, I can accept that. I'm gonna give the phone back to Poindexter now, but remember: this conversation never happened.”
I'm pretty sure two rooms full of people heard the whole thing...
Playing along, I reply, “What conversation?”
As the phone changes hands again, I hear Kaori mention, “I like her—she sounds hot.”
I guess I'll take that as a compliment...
“Thanks, Kaori,” Hisao mumbles, then loudly proclaims, “See, this is what I'm dealing with!”
Before I can offer a concession, Kaori adds, “Although if he'd said something sooner, I'd have let him call days ago...”
Hisao makes a weird noise that's half way between a chuckle and a groan, then repeats his apology, “Sorry, I'm just-”
“It's okay, I understand,” I stop him mid-sentence, then flatly add, “Just... in the future, I hope I don't embarrass you...”
There's a short pause, followed by a sharp breath and a grumbling reply, “That's just about all you do...”
“You love it, though~!” Yoko chimes in, “Don't deny it!”
As he sighs, I turn off speaker phone and look away, then repeat her accusation, “You love it, though—you can admit it, I'm the only one who'll hear...”
“I admit nothing,” he deflects, then takes another deep breath, “Anyway, I have to get off the phone...”
Disappointed at the brevity of the call, I groan, “Aww, well... watch out for sharks... and whales... and mermaids... and sirens...”
“Wait 'til you see the pictures!” he teases, then, before I can ask what he meant, he adds, “I'll call when I get home—probably on my parents' land line, so expect a strange number...”
Frowning a little, I swing my free hand down to rest on the back of my chair and mumble, “Okay, well... tomorrow, then?”
“Kaori says we should be back around three,” he affirms.
Sitting down, I remark, “I'll be expecting your call,” then warn, “don't be late!”
“If I can help it, I'll call sooner,” he says sweetly, even though that probably won't happen, “Anyway, I really have to go—and again, sorry about disappearing.”
“Don't worry, I'll think of some way to punish you...!” I threaten affectionately.
Sighing, he retorts, “Love you, too!”
As the line cuts and I set the phone down on the table, I notice Yoko retaking her seat. She's quiet, which might just be out of respect, but the sympathetic half-smirk tells me it's more than that.
“I'm fine,” I claim, sighing as I swing around to face her more directly, “He called—that's what I wanted.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, then shrugs and asks, “where is he anyway?”
“On a boat,” I reply, watching her nod thoughtfully for a moment before adding, “with his parents, an older cousin—the one who took the phone—and her two boys. At least that's all he mentioned, anyway...”
“Well that sounds like fun... and it explains why he's been out of contact,” she surmises, leaning back in her chair. “You should be happy,” she adds, furrowing her brow, “but you don't seem like it...”
I am happy...! Aren't I...?
All I really wanted was for Hisao to call, let me know where he's been, and tell me he hasn't been doing anything illicit—or that's what I've been telling myself, at least. Even in my darkest moments I never really thought he was doing anything wrong, and there wasn't anything deceptive in his voice just now, so I ought to feel relieved. Instead what I'm feeling is tension, which is apparently obvious enough for Yoko to notice. It almost feels like some part of me wanted him to have gone back to his old girlfriend, or found a new one, or just decided he wanted to look elsewhere.
Had he gone off and found a new girlfriend or whatever, I wouldn't have to worry about explaining my condition—there wouldn't be a point. However, now that I know he's safe, I'm back to facing those secrets I haven't yet revealed. The time to sit down and explain myself is coming, perhaps sooner than I thought, and I can't help feeling a little panicked. If there has ever been a time for me to try and keep those thoughts from showing on my face it would be now, but, unfortunately, Yoko already pointed out my grim expression, which raises a whole other set of questions.
What would she think of this? Should I tell her? And if so... how?
Those thoughts send my eyes to meet hers, and I almost want to cry seeing how hopeful she looks—she really has no idea. Less than an hour ago she was talking about planning shopping trips, and on an indefinite schedule—throughout university could be a long time—which means she intends to stay friends long after we finish our tenure at Yamaku. That's one of the reasons I could justify telling Amaya: neither of us could honestly say we would ever stop being friends. If Yoko plans to stick around for that long, it would only be fair to tell her—just like Hisao—that my forever won't last as long.
Obviously Yoko and I don't have nearly as much history—I'd known Amaya for almost two years before dropping that bomb on her—but we've become friends much faster. Usually I don't make friends quite so easily, and I don't want to burden her with something so heavy so soon, though I doubt she'll be anything but supportive; I don't think there's a malicious bone in her body. Still, considering where we are—surrounded by classmates and underclassmen, most of whom I barely know—I don't think now is the best time to discuss such ominous future events.
I don't want anonymous sympathy, I just want my friend's acceptance...
She's still looking at me, expecting me to say something, so I shake my head to dispel the grimness. “I'm just a little overwhelmed,” I claim, deciding to omit my exact reason. Pushing out a smile, I add, “He's safe, I'm alright... and we have a camping trip to plan.”
“Right~!” she lilts, apparently accepting my vague explanation. “We're leaving early on Friday, so you should get to bed early,” she advises, standing to start collecting our bowls, “I'll take care of the dishes... you should go count sheep...” she smirks derisively, “or do... whatever it is you do to fall asleep...”
I think now is as good a time as any...
“I'm sure Kenta will appreciate how well you know your own body,” I quip, standing to head for the door.
Turning to smirk over my shoulder, I see her sneering at me, but then she just grins and retorts, “He better! I named my favorite-”
“Never mind!” I blurt to stop her comment, pulling the door open, “Just... I'll see you tomorrow?”
Nodding as she heads for the sink, she rambles, “Oh, definitely—we have a dozen things to get ready, bags to pack, rations to stow... Oh, and-”
“G'night Miss Rabbit!” I interject, letting the door swing itself closed as I exit into the hallway.
As it clicks shut, Yoko calls after me, “Sweet dreams, Swimderella~!”
I think Yoko would make a pretty awesome step-sister...
Despite how late I slept, I had quite a busy day, and it's apparently catching up with me as I start yawning before I've even reached the stairs. That's probably good because—as Yoko pointed out—we have an early morning coming Friday, and that thought actually plants a comfortable smile on my face as I climb up the three flights of stairs. Tomorrow we'll focus on packing, clearing up some details with Shizune, and getting our last will and testaments notarized—just in case. That last part is probably a fatigue-induced exaggeration, but it gives me a reason to chuckle on the way to my room.
It's dark inside when I crash through the door, and the dim, cloud-covered moonlight doesn't help me find much more than the outline of my bed, but leaving the lights off might help me get to sleep easier. The knowledge that Hisao isn't off carousing with some floozy also helps, although reminding myself of that invites other darker thoughts as I curl up around my pillow. At this point I'm really just going through the motions; I already decided to tell him, so now it's just a matter of waiting for the right time, and then actually saying the words—neither of which I've really thought much about, incidentally.
How do you tell someone you love that you're dying...?
If I follow the examples from movies, television and video games, all I need to wait for is a crescendo in the music. That might make it easier at least, but, unfortunately, unless my phone has an app for that—I'm pretty sure it doesn't—that won't work in the real world. Usually those scenes are also very intimate, and in a nice secluded location, so maybe it's all about the surroundings. For me, I think a remote cabin in the woods would be perfect, though Hisao will be on the other side of the country while I'm there. Although, even if he was going along, that still wouldn't help me figure out what to say.
I can't just say, “Hey, Hisao... guess who has two thumbs and will be dead by forty!” …Can I...?
All I'm sure of is that thinking about this makes me wish I was just confessing my love all over again; that was way simpler. At the time it felt like climbing the biggest wall I'd ever encountered socially, but apparently that was just the fence surrounding the fortress. Once I got finished prancing through the garden—where the castle garden represents sex—I found myself staring up at a lichen-covered stone wall ten times taller than the fence. At the top is romantic bliss, but it feels like every craggy stone on the climb is slick from rain and ready to crumble under my weight.
I think I understand the Rapunzel story a little better now...
It might be easier if Hisao had a coif of long hair he could let down for me to climb, but with my luck it'd all be split ends and end up snapping before I got half way up to his window. It seems I'll be stuck scurrying up the lichens without any climbing gear, so all I can do is pray they don't tear out of the bricks. Still, I have to try; love is worth the effort—it has to be, or else nobody would bother. Not only that, but Hisao is worth the effort; he loves me—he said so—and I have to believe that means something, even if all it amounts to ends up falling apart, one way or another.
I won't let a little thing like crushing despair stop me from reaching the parapet...
______________________________________________________________________
Previous Chapter|Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Next Chapter
Usually I write a footnote before actually publishing the parts, but I forgot (I'm out of practice). Honestly, after spending so much time writing this, I have nothing really to say... I'm hoping someone can tell me whether it's garbage or not...
Oh, I guess I'll add this while I'm here:
Oh, and I didn't italicize any of Aiko's thoughts... Ugh, I'm so out of practice... Doing that now.
Last edited by Helbereth on Thu Feb 27, 2014 4:49 pm, edited 4 times in total.
Re: Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 11/06/13 ~ C.42 - Unexpected Layov
Another notch in my belt... this thread is littered with comments from former lurkers.supernoodle wrote:I’ve read pretty much all the major pseudo route fics, but I felt the urge to finally create an account to comment on this one.
Slice-of-life is a challenge to keep interesting, I've found. I'm not saying I know what I'm doing, but I must be doing something right if it can hold an audience through its length.I love the day-to-day “substantial-ness” of the story, and I commend you for writing so much while sustaining such quality.
If it's any consolation, I worry just as much, or perhaps even more about these fictional characters. That's probably why I've stuck with this story through 18 months of trial and error, ditched plot-lines, forgotten characters, redesigned outlines, and probably half the total length of the current story in unused dialogue, exposition and rewrites.I want to thank you and also curse you for making me worry so much about fictional characters. And thank you for so accurately reminding me what being 18 and in love felt like. You’ve given me many moments of gleefully grinning ear-to-ear, and worrisome heartache.
Seeing as how I released the new chapter before coming back to comment on this, it's already here! I can't say when the next one will be, though... mostly because I don't know. Also, I try to be kind to Aiko, but sometimes she needs a good verbal lashing or a swift kick to the shins!Looking forward to the next chapter, and please be kind to Aiko!
That's not bad, really. If I went back and reread the whole thing, it would probably take at least that long... although a lot of that time would be spent shoring up the grammar, altering some dialogue, and generally correcting things I didn't see 18 months ago... but, 3 weeks isn't bad for 400,000 words (it's about 1300 pages worth in novel-form).Flahhh wrote:Wow now i feel really stupid. It took me 3 weeks of doing nothing but lying in bed, reading every second I was awake to get through Tomorrow's Doom and I average about a chapter every 2 hours... I should probably relearn how to read.
Well, now that there's actually a new chapter, what does your cardiogram say?Mournful3ch0 wrote:Bumping this thread nearly sent me into cardiac arrest. Imagine the headlines.
Yo, Dawg: Boy Reads Story of Boy Suffering Heart Attack, Dies Of Heart Attack
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep?
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BlackWaltzTheThird
- Posts: 595
- Joined: Sun Jan 22, 2012 2:38 am
- Location: Melbourne, Australia
Re: Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 01/28/14 ~ C.43 - Mental Block
Welcome back to the grindstone. Here is your complementary soda; I hope you enjoy your stay. Not much from me this chapter, aside from one thing of note: It may or may not be just be this chapter, but it seems literally every italicised line of thought ends in an ellipsis or some variation thereof. In some places this was particularly noticable, such as
I wouldn't expect this many ellipses out of Shizune, much less Aiko. It's okay to have thoughts that don't trail off once in a while, you know.Helbereth wrote:I am happy...! Aren't I...?
<Two paragraphs of prose>
What would she think of this...? Should I tell her...? And if so... how...?
BlackWaltz's One-stop Oneshot Shop - my fanfiction portal topic. Contains links to all my previous works, plus starting now any new ones I may produce (or reproduce)! Please, check it out!
BlackWaltz's Pastebin - for those who prefer to read things with no formatting and stuff. It's mostly the same as in my thread. Also contains assorted other writing!
BlackWaltz's Pastebin - for those who prefer to read things with no formatting and stuff. It's mostly the same as in my thread. Also contains assorted other writing!
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Mirage_GSM
- Posts: 6148
- Joined: Mon Jun 28, 2010 2:24 am
- Location: Germany
Re: Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 01/28/14 ~ C.43 - Mental Block
This one always gets me. I always read this as June 6th first (smallest time unit to largest). If that dsoesn't make sense I read it as June 13th 2011 (largest time unit to smallest). Then I start guessuing which version you most likely meant.11/06/13
How anyone can find "middle/smallest/largest" intuitive is beyond me.
Incidentally took me 13 minutes, one hour and 37 seconds to read this chapter.*
*actual values may differ
Good job keeping the fashion episode short this time around. Making it a flashback probably helped with that.Thankfully, rattling at my doorknob breaks me out of my imaginings...
You meant "in the water" or at least "in", didn't you? I wouldn't eat pasta that has been just dropped“I dropped the pasta just before heading up here,...
This might be intentional on your part, but usually, you wouldn't refer to a reflection as "her"Flopping down on the bed, I stare across at my reflection for a few moments—as though I were expecting her to answer.
Uh... What's a blocked number? I can block numbers on my mobile, but usually I wouldn't even get a call signal after that for those... Also it doesn't sound like Aiko consciously blocked any numbers...Unfortunately that hope is dashed as the screen lights up and reveals the call is coming from a blocked number.
Wait, you can actually say something like that by mistake???We could make quite a threesome-” I stop and groan, “forget I said that...”
So Amaya is a rogue and Aiko a warlock...I'm sure we could get you a warlock power-leveled in a week or two...”
Tadao is also a Blood Elf... They were looking for a healer, so that would make him a Protection Pala, am I right?
That would eliminate the need to look endlessly search for healers...“I can probably convince Yoko to get an account and make a priest or something,”
Ha! I was right!send my new paladin a whisper
And that's why I never liked playing rogues^^°emember... rogues do it from behind...”
She is? Yes, she is - this has to be the very first story that uses her...That's Misaki Kawana—she's in Hisao's class
Wow, an actually plausible explanation!“I'm o- a b-at!”
Great read as always, but I really wish you would post more manageable chunks...
Emi > Misha > Hanako > Lilly > Rin > Shizune
My collected KS-Fan Fictions: Mirage's Myths
My collected KS-Fan Fictions: Mirage's Myths
Sore wa himitsu desu.griffon8 wrote:Kosher, just because sex is your answer to everything doesn't mean that sex is the answer to everything.
Re: Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 01/28/14 ~ C.43 - Mental Block
Caller ID blocked, so it just shows up as an unknown number.Mirage_GSM wrote:Uh... What's a blocked number? I can block numbers on my mobile, but usually I wouldn't even get a call signal after that for those... Also it doesn't sound like Aiko consciously blocked any numbers...
bhtooefr's one-shot and drabble thread
Enjoy The Silence - Sequel to All I Have (complete)
Enough is enough! I have had it with these motherfucking zombies on this motherfucking forum!
Enjoy The Silence - Sequel to All I Have (complete)
Enough is enough! I have had it with these motherfucking zombies on this motherfucking forum!
Re: Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 01/28/14 ~ C.43 - Mental Block
For the record the ellipses added here are to show missing sections from your post. Anyway, yeah... I kinda started adding ellipses to all the italicized thoughts a while back, and I'm really not sure why. Reading over older sections, I know it used to only happen for some of them, and I can't really say why I started doing so all the time. I think it has something to do with imitating the echo in someone's head when they listen to themselves talk in a movie.BlackWaltzTheThird wrote:...it seems literally every italicised line of thought ends in an ellipsis or some variation thereof...
...I wouldn't expect this many ellipses out of Shizune, much less Aiko. It's okay to have thoughts that don't trail off once in a while, you know.
"...And where the hell was I...?" -Frank Drebin in The Naked Gun
It's probably something I should curtail...
It's the standard date arrangement in the US. Month/Day/Year. No, I won't follow any other standard.Mirage_GSM wrote:[url=http://xkcd.com/1179/]...time indexing problem... and an xkcd link.[url]11/06/13
Good job keeping the fashion episode short this time around. Making it a flashback probably helped with that.[/quote]You should see the Chapoter 43 I scrapped...Thankfully, rattling at my doorknob breaks me out of my imaginings...
Nope, I didn't. "Drop the pasta" is a phrase indicating that you've put it in the boiling water. Because pasta never takes long to cook - 6-12 minutes, usually - it's just about the last thing done when making a pasta and sauce dish. The term is similar to the ball dropping at Times Square on New Years Eve; the physical ball doesn't actually start dropping until about a minute before the new year.You meant "in the water" or at least "in", didn't you? I wouldn't eat pasta that has been just dropped“I dropped the pasta just before heading up here,...
It's a moment of Aiko referring to her reflection as a separate entity - haven't you ever done that?This might be intentional on your part, but usually, you wouldn't refer to a reflection as "her"Flopping down on the bed, I stare across at my reflection for a few moments—as though I were expecting her to answer.
So, you've never gotten a call from someone who has blocked their outgoing number? Strange...Uh... What's a blocked number? I can block numbers on my mobile, but usually I wouldn't even get a call signal after that for those... Also it doesn't sound like Aiko consciously blocked any numbers...Unfortunately that hope is dashed as the screen lights up and reveals the call is coming from a blocked number.
Threesome is a word that simply means three people doing something together; the modern sexualized version is just more common nowadays. She meant it as a way of saying she'd like to join them in the game.Wait, you can actually say something like that by mistake???We could make quite a threesome-” I stop and groan, “forget I said that...”
I actually figured out the most likely classes all 9 of my regulars (including Shizune and Misha) would play if Tadao convinced them to get in the game. Tadao is the Belf Paladin(prot), Amaya the Belf Rogue(combat pve/sub pvp), Yoko a Troll Priest(holy), Aiko an Undead Warlock(affliction), Kenta is a Troll Shaman(resto/elemental), and they rope Hisao into playing an Undead Warrior(fury/occasional tank). If I go ahead an extend the universe, Misha ends up coming in as a Tauren Druid(resto), Shizune becomes a deadly Troll Mage(frost pvp/fire pve), and Naoko assumes the role of an Orc Huntress(whatever the hell hunters do... damn hunters). There were no Death Knights or Monks in 2007, which was on the heels of BCs release that previous January, so they'd have almost a complete raid composition for running Karazhan (best dungeon ever).So Amaya is a rogue and Aiko a warlock...I'm sure we could get you a warlock power-leveled in a week or two...”
Tadao is also a Blood Elf... They were looking for a healer, so that would make him a Protection Pala, am I right?That would eliminate the need to look endlessly search for healers...“I can probably convince Yoko to get an account and make a priest or something,”Ha! I was right!send my new paladin a whisperAnd that's why I never liked playing rogues^^°emember... rogues do it from behind...”
I'm surprised by that really... the picture of her has quite a bit of character in the expression, and a photography nut would make for an interesting angle (ha, accidental pun).She is? Yes, she is - this has to be the very first story that uses her...That's Misaki Kawana—she's in Hisao's class
I know, right? Who would have thought?Wow, an actually plausible explanation!“I'm o- a b-at!”
Um... to be fair, this is the shortest chapter of the last five, and only the second longest in this act at just over 10k words.Great read as always, but I really wish you would post more manageable chunks...
Re: Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 01/28/14 ~ C.43 - Mental Block
^This, basically.bhtooefr wrote:Caller ID blocked, so it just shows up as an unknown number.Mirage_GSM wrote:Uh... What's a blocked number? I can block numbers on my mobile, but usually I wouldn't even get a call signal after that for those... Also it doesn't sound like Aiko consciously blocked any numbers...
A known number is one you recognize (like if your parents call).
An unknown number is when the number itself is there, but you have no idea where it's from.
A blocked number comes from someone who has caller ID blocked on their outgoing calls, so there's no number listed on the receiving end. Incidentally, this means Aiko can't call Hisao back via the Satellite Phone because the number was blocked. Since those phones are usually expensive to run - which is one of the reasons for the brevity of the call - it's common for their number to be blocked and only given out sparingly so they don't get flooded with calls that run up the bill.
Re: Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 01/28/14 ~ C.43 - Mental Block
Literally, if I receive a call from a blocked number, my phone just says "UNKNOWN".
bhtooefr's one-shot and drabble thread
Enjoy The Silence - Sequel to All I Have (complete)
Enough is enough! I have had it with these motherfucking zombies on this motherfucking forum!
Enjoy The Silence - Sequel to All I Have (complete)
Enough is enough! I have had it with these motherfucking zombies on this motherfucking forum!
Re: Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 01/28/14 ~ C.43 - Mental Block
Enjoyable chapter as always. I really appreciated Aiko's emotions about getting the phone call. The tension about her condition is finally building again after a good (and necessary, I think) break for a few chapters. I'm guessing this is going to be the home stretch in that regard.
EDIT: Hmmm...actually, since you didn't know who she was here, she was probably just a random name when she popped up. That's actually a good thing, sort of .
You aren't actually reading Developments, are you?Mirage_GSM wrote:She is? Yes, she is - this has to be the very first story that uses her...That's Misaki Kawana—she's in Hisao's class
EDIT: Hmmm...actually, since you didn't know who she was here, she was probably just a random name when she popped up. That's actually a good thing, sort of
.Rin is orthogonal to everything.
Stuff I've written: Developments, a continuation of Lilly's (bad? neutral?) ending - COMPLETE!
Stuff I've written: Developments, a continuation of Lilly's (bad? neutral?) ending - COMPLETE!
Re: Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 01/28/14 ~ C.43 - Mental Block
Kaori Kobayashi, coincidence or are you also a fan?
Great chapter as always, glad to see you making a return after so long
Great chapter as always, glad to see you making a return after so long
Currently working on: Notes for a new project (Coming Soon™)
I did KS and other songs on note blocks in Minecraft: Playlist here
Old works| Rooftops - An Emi Story| Christmas with the Hakamichis | Not Like Him - Rin Perspective|Blossom - A Miki pseudo-route
I did KS and other songs on note blocks in Minecraft: Playlist here
Old works| Rooftops - An Emi Story| Christmas with the Hakamichis | Not Like Him - Rin Perspective|Blossom - A Miki pseudo-route
Re: Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 01/28/14 ~ C.43 - Mental Block
Never heard of her. Actually it's an amalgamation of Kaori Nishidake from SSX, and Kobayashi Maru, the fictional "no win situation" test from Star Trek. This is one of those situations where the intent of the character and part of their background can be determined from their name alone, if you know the references. Her skiing past has already been established - formerly an Olympic contender - and now she steals the phone to question her dear cousin's girlfriend - it's not a no-win sort of test, but that's practically a misnomer.Numb wrote:Kaori Kobayashi, coincidence or are you also a fan?
Yeah, it'll swing back toward a more tangible sense of tension, rather than the invented kind resulting from Hisao being incommunicado.dewelar wrote:The tension about her condition is finally building again after a good (and necessary, I think) break for a few chapters.
When I get blocked, I can't read either, so I've hardly looked at much of anything on the forums with any critical thought for months. Initially, I was planning to use another character from 3-1 who hasn't yet been named, but I figured bringing in a character from 3-3, even if they're obscure, would strengthen the link between my expanded universe and that of the VN.You aren't actually reading Developments, are you?
My interpretation of Misaki is based solely on her appearance in the class photo, her association with the photography club, and how the orientation of her associations with Saki and Yoko needed to work for my narrative. Essentially she and Saki make appearances here because it's all well and good to say that Yoko has become more popular - or perhaps simply more social - but it goes a lot further if you actually show her interacting with other people.
Re: Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 01/28/14 ~ C.43 - Mental Block
I was actually asking MirageHelbereth wrote:When I get blocked, I can't read either, so I've hardly looked at much of anything on the forums with any critical thought for months.dewelar wrote:You aren't actually reading Developments, are you?
. (Besides, you already told me you weren't 
.)*nods* I agree. That's one of the things I enjoy greatly about this story: the work you put in to show how your OCs interact with the ones from the VN, and do so fairly naturally. I think that's why the Lilly scene I mentioned a few chapters ago was a bit jarring -- it was only compared to how seamlessly it had been done up to that point that it jumped out.Initially, I was planning to use another character from 3-1 who hasn't yet been named, but I figured bringing in a character from 3-3, even if they're obscure, would strengthen the link between my expanded universe and that of the VN.
I have no expectations that anyone would worry about my interpretation of her, which I can already tell is fairly different from yoursMy interpretation of Misaki is based solely on her appearance in the class photo, her association with the photography club, and how the orientation of her associations with Saki and Yoko needed to work for my narrative.
. So far, she's only appeared in one scene in Developments as well, although I have at least a couple more plotted out.Indeed. The "show, don't tell" principle at work.Essentially she and Saki make appearances here because it's all well and good to say that Yoko has become more popular - or perhaps simply more social - but it goes a lot further if you actually show her interacting with other people.
Rin is orthogonal to everything.
Stuff I've written: Developments, a continuation of Lilly's (bad? neutral?) ending - COMPLETE!
Stuff I've written: Developments, a continuation of Lilly's (bad? neutral?) ending - COMPLETE!