So after 41K words and 3000 views (Yay!), I’m at the point where all the normal people start their stories. Much thanks to Mirage_GSM for his proofreading work. I hope you enjoy and as always feedback is very much appreciated.
The Truth Will Set You Free
“Another set of stairs is inhumane,” Ryota pants.
“How can you be out of breath already?” I ask incredulously.
“I don’t… do… mornings!” he exclaims taking the final step onto the top floor. Our third year of school is barely a month old, yet I’ve found myself settling into an almost robotic routine. Get up, shower, walk to class, daydream through lessons.
Do I have anything else in my life? Oh yeah, four afternoon runs, two track club meetings and one therapy session.
Thinking of therapy appointments I have one to look forward to this evening, Great.
Just great.
“You could come running with me?” I ask, frowning at his sweaty brow. Ikuno giggles beside me, perhaps a little cruelly.
“I don’t want to make you look bad Miki, it’s a kindness.” He laughs, pulling Ikuno into a disgustingly public display of affection. I guess most people would throw him dirty looks for that, then again people stare at us anyway, might as well be because he’s getting some. Leaving them to it I continue into the classroom.
Surprisingly the only person to beat me is the timid purple haired girl who sits at the back of the class.
Hanako I think her name is? She has her face buried in a book, I’ve never really spoken to her.
She is intriguing though, why is she so afraid?
Students slowly file in, taking their places, the seating plan identical to our second year classroom the floor below. There’s a thud from my neighbour as her blue haired head hits the desk, making me wince. I watch with passing interest as she blinks confusedly waking up again after only a few seconds, she catches my eye and I give her a comforting smile, before losing her to another round of sleep.
I have no idea what her condition is, I could ask I guess, but I don’t really know her.
Mutou is late as usual, it’s odd for a teacher to be tardier than his students. I do often wonder if in his dreamlike state he simply floats from classroom to classroom, looking for one without a teacher. Eventually he arrives complete with messy hair, bloodshot eyes and a new student?
Well there goes my dibs on the empty desk by the window.
So I wonder whats wrong with him.
No, no that is a bad way to think. Our new classmate is stood in front of us, looking like a noose is about to be tied around his neck.
He walked in, so no leg problems.
Nervously he glances around the room. So he’s not blind. His eyes flicker as he spots my arm and Molly’s legs, or lack thereof.
So first time at the cripple zoo, interesting. Finally his wandering gaze settles on Misha’s violently pink hair, a new feature for a new school year, I have no idea what possessed her to dye it.
“Class, we have a new student joining us today,” Mutou announces snapping out of his morning daze.
I wonder what it’s like to wake up, only to discover your teaching high school science.
“This is Hisao Nakai,” he says half-heartedly, looking at the subject of his introduction as if trying to find some fascinating fact to mention. Giving up he simply hands him a lump of chalk to write his name on the blackboard.
Hisao huh? I don’t bother to clap with everyone else, he already looks scared half to death, a loud leg slap might finish him off. With an irritating scrape he pulls out his chair and sits down, only to be assaulted almost instantly by everyone’s favourite class rep.
I guess if you get thrown into a shark tank the bull shark will be the first for a bite, can you even get bull shark?
“What are big male sharks called?” I ask Ikuno quietly as Mutou starts to drone on about something.
“I have no idea? Bruce?” Ikuno shrugs, looking confused. “Miki,” she pauses, I get the feeling I’m not going to like what she says next.
“Yeah?” I ask, my eyes darting to the blackboard to make sure we’re safe to talk.
“If we pair up to work, will you help? Because otherwise I’m going to find someone else.” Her cheeks are a little flushed, I instantly feel bad. I’ve been relying almost completely on Ikuno for keeping my schoolwork up, she understood to start with, but I guess there’s only so much she can take.
“Yeah,” I nod quickly. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”
With a smile Ikuno gestures to the front, we should be listening.
— — —
As it turns out we do have group work, true to my word I do my best to help. I don’t know if I got anything right, but Ikuno seems happy enough. Eating lunch with her and Ryouta my eyes are drawn to my new classmate, who has been taken hostage by two thirds of the student council, and doesn’t look overly happy about it.
Why is he so interesting? I don’t think I’ve paid this much attention since, well since last year. Somehow he’s come along, a mystery wrapped in a school uniform, and woken me from my robotic slumber.
I have no idea how long it will last, but I like the distraction.
“Something fatal, tragically fatal,” Ryouta says with a mouth full of food, following my gaze.
“Ryouta!” Ikuno gasps, looking up from her finger pricking routine.
“You think?” I ask, “Why would you come to school if you were going to die?”
“Okay, how about something degenerative, like he’s going to gradually forget how to walk?”
“Could be,” I shrug. “Would you come to cripple school before you’re crippled though?”
“Miki!” Ikuno rounds on me now. “Honestly you two are so mean. He’s not a cripple and neither are you. I happen to think he’s kinda cute.”
“You do?” Ryouta sputters, his cheeks reddening.
“I never said he wasn’t… okay looking.” I turn my attention back to Hisao Nakai, could he be about to keel over at any moment. I guess there’s a whole memorial garden as testament that those kinds of people do come here.
Poor kid, dying and now stuck with Shizune and Misha.
“You still shouldn’t make light of his condition, or anybody’s condition for that matter.” Ikuno says, packing away her supplies.
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” I look down at my half eaten lunch suddenly very hungry. “I’m just interested is all.”
———
One thing I’ve learned since coming to Yamaku is that disabled kids are just as keen to get out of class as their counterparts in the real world, so when the bell rings there is a sudden screeching of chairs being forced across wooden floors. I stand up slowly, waiting to see what Hisao will do, unfortunately he is still in the grasp of the diabolic duo.
“Ikuno, I need your help,” I say quickly, turning to her.
“Can’t you at least try the homework first? I have to do it too, you know.”
“Its not that!” I say urgently.
They look like they are about to start dragging him away with them.
“I need your help rescuing the new boy.”
She raises her eyebrows at me. “Rescue him?”
“Yes.”
How is this a difficult concept. “You need to distract the student council, somehow.”
“Why me?” she asks, looking over to where Misha and Shizune are signing furiously.
I bet they are discussing how to hide the body.
“Because you’re my best friend, and you’re on the council, and I will owe you a favour.”
The moment’s silence while she makes her mind up is agonising. I’ve not felt this desperation for something to happen since before Ayumu’s graduation.
“Fine,” Ikuno says resignedly.
I knew I could count on her.
“Hi Ikuchan~!” Misha voice carries across the room, causing me to wince.
I forgot she gave Ikuno that stupid nickname, whatever is wrong with Misha is far worse than missing a hand.
“Hello,” Ikuno says slowly, apparently no keener on the pet name. “Shizune, I’m having problems with the budget reports for the festival, can we go over them?”
There’s an uncomprehending look on the pink haired girl’s face, before her hands burst into a blur of rapid sign language.
How can anyone keep up with that?
“Ikuchan, that’s not good at all!” tone and inflection are completely missing in Misha’s translation, making her scolding completely surreal. “Budget reports are very important! But we were going to show Hicchan around.”
Hicchan? He has a nickname? He’s been here less than a day and she’s given him a nickname? What the hell?
“I can show the new boy around if you’re busy?” Like a noble and mighty knight I stride into the conversation, Misha looks so stunned she forgets to translate. A loud impatient finger snap draws her attention and gets her back on course.
“Thats a great idea~!” Misha exclaims. By the way Shizune is glaring at me I doubt that was her translation.
She likes him? Or she likes controlling people - the latter seems more likely.
“Shicchan says it’s up to Hicchan, and-“ Misha frowns slightly, “She says she’s glad you’ve found time in your busy schedule to help your classmates, it’s only taken you a year.”
Ignoring the pair of them I turn to Hisao.
Shizune just loves to argue, according to Ikuno anyway. Looking completely lost he’s kinda cute, I smile at him, gesturing with my head to the door.
I nod a silent thank you to Ikuno, before leaving with Hisao, who follows me out of the room like a lost puppy. On closer inspection I can’t see anything wrong with him, messy chestnut hair, eyes such a light shade of brown they are almost peach.
No, on the surface he is fine.
“Oh, sorry, my name is Miki Miura.” I forgot to introduce myself in the excitement of saving him.
“Hisao Nakai,” he says almost robotically. We make an awkward bow to each other.
“I saw you spend quite a bit of time with the council today, thought you might like a break,” I say, heading down the stairs. He smiles ever so slightly, but it could have been my imagination.
“They seem welcoming,” he says softly.
Oh I bet they do.
“So what did you want to see?” I might not have thought this out too well, I have my appointment soon, wherever he wants to go I’m going to have to leave him there.
If it was any other therapist session I could cancel.
“Well, I was supposed to see the nurse after class.”
Now that’s interesting.
“As it happens I was heading for the medical centre myself,” I say. His eyes drift to my stump, before flying quickly back to my face.
Bless. Together we leave the main building and head out under a light afternoon sun.
“So what do you like to do Nakai?” I pause. “Or do you prefer Hicchan.”
“Hisao is fine,” he says a little testily, “Reading mostly.”
“Bookworm huh?” I smile, thinking about Hanako with her head constantly in a book. Perhaps I could nudge him in her direction, could be worth it just to see the look on Shizune’s face if she’s outclassed by someone with pathological shyness.
Have I really become this bitter, or was I always like this and Ayumu distracted me?
“Well, I think there’s a library in the main building.” I say, remembering Ryouta showing me a pair of polished wooden doors an age ago.
With a nod he smiles, opening the door to the medical centre and gesturing for me to go inside. The brick corridor echoes with our footsteps, as we cover the short distance to the open door of the nurse’s office, inside the room seems to be empty.
“Good afternoon Miss Miura-“
He speaks from behind us, making me jump out of my skin, Hisao laughs softly.
Damn Nurse! With a frown I introduce Hisao to the blue haired practitioner, who smiles politely, grabbing a file from his desk.
“Oh yes, and you’re here to see-“
“The hand doctor,” I cut him off quickly before he can reveal too much about me.
He laughs turning his attention to Hisao, an eyebrow raised. For his part my new classmate accepts the information with no protest, though he does look a little confused by the laugh.
He’s in for a treat spending time with the nurse.
“Afraid you get the boring old nurse today, Mr. Nakai, follow me.”
With a long look back at me Hisao follows the nurse into his sterile office. I suddenly feel very alone, a distraction was only ever going to be a temporary solution, I guess however briefly I was trying to feel carefree again.
Resigning myself to what I imagine is going to be a very unpleasant hour I set off towards Dr. Ueda’s office. I’m a little early, and just as I reach the door it opens, revealing Hanako, whose eyes instantly widen. From this range it’s hard to miss just how horrific her scaring is. I can’t even imagine how much getting those hurt.
“Oh, sorry,” I say, trying to smile at her.
I kind of guessed she was in therapy, this just confirms it.
“I… I… I’m…” She splutters. Inside the room I hear Dr Ueda rise from his recliner.
“I’msorryIgottago!” she says all at once, rushing past me and down the corridor, her school bag swinging wildly.
What the hell? Should I go after her? Apologise more completely, I didn’t mean to scare her. In fact I’ve developed a bit of a soft spot for my skittish classmate.
“She will be okay Miki, just easily startled I’m afraid.” Dr. Ueda, guides me into his office. I wish I could ask about her, but it would be a betrayal of trust. I would hate having the doctor share anything I told him.
— — —
We sit in silence, the only sound a ticking clock, waiting for our guest who appears to be running late.
Perhaps they’ve forgotten all about this, I can hope.
“You don’t need to talk right now if you’re not ready, remember this is an official statement, you can’t change it,” Dr. Ueda says not unkindly, breaking the silence.
“I know,” I sigh, “But putting it off won’t change anything. I’m ready.”
There’s a knock on the door just as I finish my sentence. Getting up quickly the doctor hurries to answer it. He seems as nervous as I am, failing completely at his normal unreadable act. A tall official looking man is led into the room, all perfect black hair and neat pinstriped suit. He’s introduced, but I don’t catch his name, nor do I particularly care what it is. A police badge shines on his suited chest. The time has come for my official witness statement.
There is some light and pointless small talk. I feel like screaming at them to carry on with it, to stop dragging things out. I was ready to talk on my first day back at Yamaku, as I told the good doctor. But apparently it takes this long to set up a meeting, Tatsuo’s death clearly not a priority case.
“Right Miss Miura, I understand this is a difficult subject, so just go slowly and tell me everything you can remember.” The detective’s voice is reassuring at least.
I need to remember that as far as he knows I’m a victim not a culprit.
Slowly, my voice shaking I tell him my story. It’s harder than I thought, and my voice softens to almost a whisper when I talk about Tatsuo, how I remember calling to him but getting no answer, but somehow I make it through. With a final note added to his paperwork the suited detective looks up.
“Thank you for that, if possible could you clarify a few points?”
I nod, hoping I never have to talk again. Burning horribly I push my stump into my stomach, the phantom feels angry, desperate to make it’s presence known.
“Mr Tekahashi picked you out from a crowd seemingly at random, but later expressed a romantic interest in you?”
I confirm with a tiny nod.
“From there his driving seemed to become more erratic, you believed he was trying to show off or impress you? So you removed your seatbelt, planning to escape the vehicle when an opportunity presented itself.”
“Thats right,” I mummer.
“So just to be clear at the time of the accident, Mr Takahashi was in control the vehicle?”
“Y… yes.”
Please let him believe me. “I tried to grab the wheel to steer away from the cars, but…” Trailing off I look at my stump, still clutched to my abdomen.
“Do you remember who the first responder was after the accident? Who kicked out the windscreen for example?”
I shake my head. “I don’t remember anything after hitting the parked car, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay Miss Miura, you have done very well, I think we can now safely close this case.”
Leaving me to sit mutely the two men make some small talk as various sheets of paperwork are compiled and signed, I end up signing my own name more than once, though what for I could not say. Eventually with everything in order and subjects for polite conversation exhausted the detective is shown to the door.
“You did very well Miki,” the doctor’s voice is back to its normal level tone, apparently he’s as relieved as I am that this is all over.
A bit of a change from when he was talking about testifying against me the first day we met.
“I just told him what happened,” I say, taking a sip of icy water, hoping it will calm the twisting snakes in my stomach. “C… can I still see you?” I ask, my voice shaking.
Despite everything I’ve grown to trust my therapist. His unbiased opinions and the comforting environment have become regular fixtures of my week.
“Oh, of course you can Miki, I’m sure we can find much to talk about in your last year at Yamaku.”
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