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There are some who hoped for it…

There are some who desired it…

There are the vast majority of you who aren't too fussed any which way…

But… it… is… here…

The First Week –A Soon-hee Story

Table of Contents

Chapter One (this post): Moving In Part Two
Our favorite resident has come to Yamaku! What could possibly go wrong?
Chapter Two: Hello Nurse Part Two
Yamaku must have one heck of a pension plan.
Chapter Three: Soon-hee was Here
You either get busy living or get busy dying.
Chapter Four: Welcome to Yamaku
Don't forget your towel.
Chapter Five: Welcome to the Jungle
We got fun and games.
Chapter Six: A Few Good Men
And women, obviously.
Chapter Seven: Long Live Dewey
Presuming anyone even remembers the Dewey Decimal System.
Chapter Eight: Take Out's Revenge Part II Part III
So much for a free meal....
Chapter Nine: Physical Education
Making friends over lunch. Cliche, but effective.
Chapter Ten: The Shrink is In Part II
Hope you have a nickel handy.
Chapter Eleven: Requiem of a Dream
Everybody lies. Even to themselves.
Chapter Twelve: The Eye of the Tiger (dojo) Part II
Watch out for tigers and flying shinai.
Chapter Thirteen: The First Volley Part II
Time to fight in the shade.
Chapter Fourteen: Take the Cane, Leave the Cookies Part II
She'll make her an offer she can't refuse: free food.
Chapter Fifteen: Circling the Wagons
One step forward, one step back.
Chapter Sixteen: The Thrill of the Fight Part II
Risin' up to the challenge as a mentor.
Chapter Seventeen: The Weekend Comes
These days are oooouuurrrrrsssss~!
Chapter Eighteen: A Day Half-Done
Because wake and baking is for gaylords.
Chapter Nineteen: The Doc is In
Snickel, snickel, snickel.
Chapter Twenty: Lay of the Land Part II Part III
You knew we'd end up here eventually.
Chapter Twenty-One: Full Circle Part II
As scars fade, wounds heal, and life... finds a way.

Chapter One: Moving In


“How’s it look?”

Miya Setou, after taking a moment to look over the Return of the King poster she had stuck on my wall, wheels around to gauge my reaction. I take a step back and duck as her brown-haired ponytail goes flying over my head.

I spend a moment to looking at the poster’s placing before nodding and saying, “Looks good. Thanks.”

“Wouldn’t be right not to help you settle in,” I hear Kenji say behind me.

I turn around to face Kenji, and he uses the hand not holding onto his son Hisato to pat my head. I can’t help but smirk when he does that; it might be an odd gesture, but the sincerity of it always makes me happy. Kenji’s sincerity is one of the things I appreciate about him most.

“Thanks,” I say again, “Sorry for being so much trouble.”

“You’re no trouble,” Miya and Kenji say together.

“No trouble,” Hisato echoes.

I smirk at the young Setou and he smiles at me from Kenji’s arm. I hear Miya pivot on her heel and turn a bit to see her smiling as well, while she looks around the room making sure everything is in order.

The dorm rooms at Yamaku are pretty small, but having four people in it makes it feel practically cramped, even if one of them is a three-year old.

After getting discharged from the psychiatric ward, I spent the last two days at the Setous. Now I’m here, at Yamaku Academy, trying to move on with my life and enter the real world for the first time. Not being one to leave a job half-done, Kenji and Miya made sure my room was in order before leaving me on my own. This included decorating my barren beige walls with some movie posters.

The posters are on the three blank walls, with a window along the wall across from the door. The left wall by the door also has a small bookshelf next to the closet, which I've already nearly filled. There's also a box of more books in the closet. On top of the bookshelf is the frame of the candy wrapper from my first meeting with Kenji. Even though it was six months ago, it seems like longer, somehow. Probably because most of that time I spent fighting withdrawal symptoms.

The bed was across from the door originally, but we moved it along the right wall. Kenji also adjusted it so I can fit under it. Besides the bed, bookshelf, a small dresser by the bed, and a smell desk along the wall by the door –it had been where the bookshelf was- the place is pretty sparse.

Still, for the next two years, room 223 was mine. Even more than the room at the ward had been mine. I'm still getting used to that. Or maybe I'm still getting uses to the idea of being on my own, with no doctor or visits from Kenji and the nurses to help take my mind off things.

Apparently satisfied with her look-around, Miya nods and turns around to face Kenji, “I think we’re done here.”

Kenji nods and looks in my general direction, “We better get outta your hair, let you settle in."

Miya nods and steps over to Kenji before turning to me and asking, “Think you can take it from here?”

I slowly nod. Honestly I’m not sure, but I don’t want to worry them more than I seem to. I still don’t quite get why the two are so fond of me, but I do appreciate it, and I hate the idea of being more of an imposition than I already am –not many people want to deal with a seventeen year old headcase that they practically picked up on the street.

Perhaps sensing my misgivings, or Miya just being Miya, the woman carefully wraps her arms around me in a hug. My body shivers for a moment at the contact before my body relaxes and accepts the embrace, which I slowly return.

Once my own arms are around the slightly taller woman, Miya says, “You’ll be fine, Little Lamb.”

“Bah, bah, bah!” Hisato chirps.

Kenji chuckles, I manage a small smirk, and Miya slowly pulls away, “Text, call, or email if you need something, forgot something, or wanna talk about something.”

I nod, “I will. Thank you, and-”

Kenji cuts me off before I can finish, “You’re no trouble.”

Someday I hope it’s true.

Miya gives me a reassuring smile, but suddenly frowns and snaps her fingers, making me jump in surprise.

“Shoot, a picture! We should take a picture by the front gate! I brought my tripod and I nearly forgot.”

“It’s okay,” I say, “I need to head out soon for my exam anyway.”

Despite having had a physical exam not five days before my arrival at Yamaku, I have to have one with the school’s head nurse today, too. I guess the school wants to make sure their people get a look at the students as soon as they can.

Miya sighs in relief and nods, “Alright, then let’s head out. Do you have your jacket?”

I nod and point at the jacket’s green collar; I had never taken it off. When you don’t weigh much more than a bulk-sized sack of rice, layers are your friend.

“D’oh,” she mutters, then heads for the door.

Chuckling lightly, Kenji waits for me to follow her before heading out himself. Outside in the hall, Miya’s holding a camera and waiting expectantly next to my doorway.

When Kenji stops out into the hall, he pauses to lean forward a bit to see what his wife is up to. When he’s done, he raises an eyebrow and asks, “Honey, what are you doing?”

“She’s about to lock her dormitory door for the first time,” Miya replies, “I wanna commemorate the occasion. Now move behind me so the lighting is the same. Hee-chan, I want you to look at the lock, okay? Forget I’m here.”

I prefer to remember you’re here, actually.

Trying my best to act natural –not my best ability- I close my door, fish my key out of my left pants pocket, stick it into the lock, and give it a turn. I try to take my time, to give Miya the best chance to get a good shot.

I had a key for my room at the psych ward, but the dorm at Yamaku seems different, somehow. Sure it’s another temporary living place, but it’s going to be mine for a while, so it’s the closest thing I’ve had to a home in years.

Besides, once I become a citizen, my juvenile record will be expunged, so my time at the psych ward legally won’t exist. That way I have at least some chance of getting a job in the future. For all intents and purposes, the little dorm here at Yamaku is the start of my life.

Pocketing my key, I look up towards Miya, “How was that?”

Miya grins and gives me a thumbs-up, “Great! Thanks –I’ll send you a copy when I get the chance.”

I smile and mutter my thanks. Miya grins but doesn’t say anything as we leave the dormitory building. Though filled with echoes from rooms as people prepare for the coming year and trimester, we don’t run into anyone in the hall.

Outside, though, students and their parents or guardians are sparsely scattered about, going to and fro as they prepare for what looms ahead. Size and shape aside, people are still people, going about their lives.

Hopefully they feel the same way about me.

About halfway back to the gate Miya looks over at Kenji, who’s still carrying his son in the crook of his arm, and asks, “What’s it like being back here? Any thoughts?”

Kenji frowns a bit in contemplation, the bright spring light reflecting off his thick glasses as he ponders, “Well… I’m glad I met Hisao, for one; he’s always been the voice of reason for me.”

Miya pouts, “What about me?”

Kenji smiles at his wife’s general direction, “You’re a beacon of light in the land of jagged rocks- all three of you.”

Miya grins, and I can’t help but smile, too. It’s kind of weird, though, because I think pretty much the same thing about Kenji.

When we get near the gate, Miya dashes ahead to the car, which is parked near the main gate, along with several others, all trying to be near the entrance and still out of the way of the bus. Several parents are helping students unload things from cars, or waiting at the bus stop a bit down the road. Every now and then a student waves to another, and the two start chatting. Some of the parents look less comfortable than others, and a few are giving Kenji and me a couple spare glances.

It says something about a place that a thirty-something man with a three year old kid and a seventeen year old tomboy wandering around barely registers on the weird-o-meter here. People are strange like that.

My kind of strange, at least.

Part Two:

By the time Kenji and I reach the gate, Miya’s waiting, her tripod set up and a camera mounted in place. Students and parents heading through the gate are already shuffling to the sides to give her room for her picture, and to the side a couple parents are holding cameras of their own, waiting their turn to record memories and say their goodbyes.

This place seems to like mixing the usual with the unusual.

“Okay, now stand a bit to the left of the gate –my left, my left,” Miya has her eye jammed against her camera as she gives us instructions for the shot, “Kenji, set Hisato down for a minute. Hee-chan can stand between us, so leave a space –oh, you got it. Great, hold that while I set the timer….”

Kenji sighs as we follow Miya’s instructions. He looks a little on edge, too, though why I don’t know. Some people don’t like having their picture taken, and maybe Kenji’s one of them. Or maybe it’s all the people wandering around.

I’m not exactly thrilled being out in the open like this, either.

Once Kenji, Hisato, and I are in position, Miya sets the timer and dashes into place. We all smile as best we can, and once the camera goes off, Miya dashes over to inspect her work.

Miya grins and pumps her fist, “Sweet, first try!”

Kenji grins, “You ever consider a career in photography?”

Miya chuckles as she un-mounts the camera. While she packs up, Kenji leads Hisato over to their car, me following a pace behind.

Once she’s put the tripod and camera away, Miya comes over and gives me another hug. I return this one a bit firmer, as now that we’re by the car their looming departure is putting me a bit on edge.

“Like I said before,” she says, “If you need something or just wanna chat, you have our numbers.”

“Thank you,” I say, “both of you.”

Kenji grins and comes over to pat my head, “No problem, kid. Have a good trimester, we’ll see you in the summer.”

“Since we’re going out of the country the Foundation will have to tell immigration,” Miya adds, “so don’t be surprised when the paperwork shows up for you to stamp.”

Oh the joys of being a resident.

“Thanks,” I say again.

Miya let’s go of me and Kenji lowers his hand, his other one holding onto Hisato.

Looking up at me, the young boy grins and waves, “Bye, Miss Kim!”

I smile and get down on one knee, “See you again in the summer, okay?”

Hisato nods and looks up at Kenji, who's reaching into the pocket of his jacket for something.

“Here,” he says, and hands me a box of Pocky sticks, “This should get you through today, at least.”

“Don’t forget those casseroles I baked!” Miya adds.

“I won’t. And thanks for labeling them. And making them.”

Least I can avoid the cafeteria for a couple days.

“You’re welcome. Have a good trimester!”

With a final wave from all three of them, which I return, they get into the car and drive off.

And then I’m alone again. Except this time, I’m alone with my fellow students.

For now.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers /For he today that sheds his blood with me /Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile /This day shall gentle his condition /And gentlemen in England now a-bed /Shall think themselves accursed they were not here /And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks /That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

+++
Next Chapter

Another Soon-hee story –that’s how we roll for the third anniversary (I’ve been here three years? Wow. That’s a lot of cripple girl porn fanfiction.)

Anywho, for the first time ever, I’m writing in present tense. Past tense felt weird for this for some reason, so hopefully I don’t bungle it up too much.

So it’s time to buckle up for another ride, because my name is Mr. H, and I got a problem (other than the freshmen and my self-medication with alcohol, I mean.)

Oh, and it’s probably a good idea to keep tropes relevant to this fic separate from the H&K tropes page, since we’re a couple levels removed from that by this point.

One more thing: a brief recap for those who forgot:

Ahem:

Soon-hee Kim is descended from Korean war laborers and was the sex slave of a gang of thugs for four years before a Predator wiped them out and she survived the crossfire by hiding in a closet and was pseudo-adopted by Kenji. See The Manila Tales for the sappy stuff, Picking Up the Pieces for her recovery, and Concrete Jungle for her first appearance.

I know, I write a lot of fan-fiction. Keeps my skills sharp in between other projects. (which reminds me….)

Well, count me among those from the first group
Since this is set before the Manila chapters I doubt Soon Hee will do any serious monster hunting in this one, but, hey, who knows...

The room description in the beginning is inexplicably past tense.

I was still getting use to that. Or maybe I was still getting use to the idea of being on my own

Also past tense and "used" in both cases.

when the paperwork shows up for you to stamp.”

Nice detail!

Hisato nods and looks up at Kenji, whose reaching into the pocket of his jacket for something.

"who is" or "who's"

Mirage_GSM wrote:Well, count me among those from the first group
Since this is set before the Manila chapters I doubt Soon Hee will do any serious monster hunting in this one, but, hey, who knows...

Knew'd you'd like this

The room description in the beginning is inexplicably past tense.

Whoops. Fixed, I think.

I was still getting use to that. Or maybe I was still getting use to the idea of being on my own

Also past tense and "used" in both cases.

Also fixed.

when the paperwork shows up for you to stamp.”

Nice detail!

Thanks

Hisato nods and looks up at Kenji, whose reaching into the pocket of his jacket for something.

"who is" or "who's"

Ugh, grammar. My arch nemesis. Well, that and sobriety, heh. Also fixed.

Well, this appointment aughtta go well.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Two: Hello, Nurse


As Miya’s car disappears down the hill, making me look away or face the daunting –though admittedly beautiful- vista, I turn around toward the iron gates of Yamaku Academy, looming both invitingly and ominously.

Well, maybe I’m just interpreting the ominous part.

The first trimester of what is technically my second year of high school starts tomorrow, and the spring air has enough of a nip on my small frame to make me grateful for my jacket. The breeze is also making my throat and nose tickle. Guess I need to get outside more.

First, I need to get back inside the gates, because my hairs are standing on end at being out in the open.

Between the half a year in the hospital when I could barely leave, the time with…Them, and the time Before, where I was discouraged from leaving the apartment, I’ve become a bit of an agoraphobe. However, even though Yamaku’s grounds are open and spacious, the old brick buildings around it give the area enough of a sense of being closed in to put me at ease.

It also reminds me a bit of the hospital. It’s probably not normal to find comfort in being reminded of a hospital, but when it was your only haven after… Them, you take what you can get.

It’s a weird dichotomy, really –a school that’s more than a school, but nowhere near a hospital, on an open campus closed off by old buildings filled with students who are normal here but special anywhere else. That’s actually something that’s been bothering me since I first set foot on campus; even here, I’m still the odd one out.

Not that my appearance does anything to help me blend in. I’m on the short side and fairly muscular, thanks to over six months of physical therapy and intensive swimming. My black hair’s cropped short, my skin’s a bit on the darker side, and to top it off, I’m wearing a boy’s uniform. I hate skirts.

Not that it’s any easier for the other students to hide their problems, either. I won’t say I’m entirely used to such sights, but Kenji said at the end of the day they’re just normal kids. Besides, I don’t exactly have a right to judge normalcy, and Kenji told me normalcy is bullshit –please pardon my language- anyway.

Stepping back through the gates, I have one more thing to do before getting back to my room and grabbing one of the casseroles Miya made me to hold me off from facing the cafeteria. It’s not the food I mind- it’s the crowds.

Anyway, I have a physical exam to go to. Again. I’m not exactly thrilled at the prospect, but I don’t have a choice, either, so, remembering the campus map I looked at yesterday, I make my way to the auxiliary building. On the way I eat the box of Pocky sticks to help calm me down, tossing the empty box in a trash can along the way.

Since I have some time before the appointment, I spend a few minutes making sure I can find the pool tomorrow morning. I also check the pool’s schedule to make sure there’ll be a lifeguard on duty when I go. I swim in the mornings, but it looks like someone will be there.

Good thing, too- I don’t think I’d be able to handle my first day without a swim to clear my head. After attacking a moment to enjoy the faint scent of chlorine wafting in the hallway, I head to the Head Nurse’s office, which is pretty easy for me to find. The door to his office is partially open, but I gently rap on it anyway.

“It’s open!” a male voice says from inside.

Time to get this over with.

I know intellectually he’s a medical professional and I don’t have anything to worry about. It’s not the intellectual parts of my brain that are making the hairs on my neck stand on end, though. Still, I agreed to enter the real world, so I close my eyes, slowly inhale, exhale, and step into the room.

The head nurse’s office reminds me a bit of Dr. Tainaka’s the few times I was inside it. It’s beige, utilitarian, and covered with posters. Although instead of warnings about withdrawal symptoms and the like, his are more kid friendly, advocating eating a balanced diet and stuff like that.

Speaking of the head nurse, he’s a slightly older man with dark hair, currently sitting at his computer desk. The way his hair catches the light gives it an indigo hue, and it’s starting to grey on the sides. The lab coat and dark pants add to the aged look somehow, but the grin plastered on his face looks like it’s from someone a third his age.

“Ah, Miss Kim!” he declares, slowly standing up as he continues, “Good to put a face to the file.”

“Hello,” I say, staying as close to the door as I can.

Considering he’s probably read my file, he should know why I’m uncomfortable. He doesn’t show it, though, and continues talking as I reluctantly hang up my jacket on a nearby hanger.

“As my name plate out there says, I’m the head nurse here. You can just call me Nurse –everyone does.”

Probably because you tell them to.

I nod to show I heard him.

He’s still grinning as he reaches for a large file on his desk, but the grin turns to a more serious looking smile as he flips through it.

“I know these mandatory physicals are a pain,” he says without looking up at me, “but the administration requires at least one exam on file performed by Yamaku staff, and I have the most letters after my name, so I get the honors of playing bureaucratic flunky,” he looks up from the file to grin at me, “That said, since you expressed an interest in joining the judo club, I do need to make sure you meet their requirements regarding disability limitations and the like.”

Right. Forgot about that. Also forgot to rinse my mouth. Crap.

I nod again to show I heard him, and he continues, “I also have some other concerns of my own we need to go over, but first things first. Hop up on the scale, please.”

I nod and do as he asks. He weighs me, checks my vision –keeping arms length away the whole time- and looks inside my nose and mouth.

“…Hmm,” he mutters, frowning. Lowering his pinpoint flashlight, his look has turned serious enough to make me swallow, “Has your allergy been acting up recently?”

“Um… my throat and nose itched when I was outside earlier,” I say, “and…um…”

The Nurse raises an eyebrow, “You had honey in your tea recently, didn’t you?”

How’d he know? Oh. Right. He’s been at this a while. Shit.

I nod, “Sorry.”

“It’s not my allergy,” he states, “Yamaku is on a hill surrounded by grass and forests. There’s going to be more irritants in the air, and the stronger breeze is going to increase your inflammation. You have a moderate allergy level and need to take that into account, as well.”

I nod, a bit mad at myself for my negligence. Since I spend so much time indoors, I tend to treat my allergy as a more mild condition, but it’s not, and if I don’t pay attention to it, I could end up in serious trouble. Like not being able to breathe trouble.

“I understand, Sir. Sorry.”

The Nurse nods and smiles lightly, “Good to hear. I get a lot of students giving me lip service about their conditions, but I can tell you mean it. Also, I think I have something that might help.”

Slowly reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a red and yellow plastic tube with a clear cap, which he holds out in front of him like someone offering a whipped animal a treat.

I do tend to behave like a beaten dog. Probably why I like getting my head pat so much.

It takes me a moment to realize what he’s offering me, because I’ve only read about them- I wasn’t trusted with anything sharp at the hospital. Swallowing again, I take a small step forward and carefully take the EpiPen from him.

When I take it and slowly put it in my pocket, he smiles gently and says, “A lot of people have worked hard to make sure you can be here, so you better take care of yourself, right?”

I nod, “Thank you.”

The Nurse nods and smirks, “Fortunately, airborne allergens should be low this time of year, but it’ll get worse when summer hits, so be prepared, and let me know if your symptoms act up or get worse.”

I nod again, and he finishes the preliminary exam, except for checking my heart, lungs, and body for signs of abuse –new ones, I mean.

As I wait for the inevitable, my fight or flight reflex is threatening to flare up. My legs are twitching in anticipation, and my breathing is getting erratic from nerves. I try and control my breathing while the Nurse fiddles with his papers, a stethoscope nowhere in sight.

Just get it over with, damn it.

Part Two:

There’s a knock at the door and I jump and yelp, which make the Nurse start. The door opens and a female nurse bolts inside. She has short black hair and is a few centimeters taller than me, with a slender frame and sharp eyes.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“Just fine,” the Nurse says, grinning widely as he continues, “Your timing is perfect, Isuzu.”

The female nurse gives me a concerned look, but I’m already starting to calm down. Apparently satisfied I’m not insane, she steps further into the room, and it’s only then that I notice she has a stethoscope and clipboard.

“Knock when you’re done,” the Nurse says, winking at the other nurse before stepping outside and closing the door behind him.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Taking a step closer to me, the younger nurse smiles and says, “Hello, I’m Nurse Isuzu. I’ll be checking your heart and lungs today. Please take a few moments to calm down, and I’ll warm this up and make sure my pen is working.”

I nod and start a brief breathing exercise as I loosen my already loose tie. By the time I’ve removed my shirt and placed it over the back of the spare metal chair, my breathing’s returned to normal, although my skin feels flushed from embarrassment and nerves.

Good thing he took my temperature first.

I take a seat in the chair, and when the nurse is sure my breathing is back to normal, she checks my heart rate, lungs, and has me stand up to lower my pants. Once she’s sure the handful of scars on my back and arms aren’t recent, I’m allowed to redress and spend several minutes behind the curtain collecting myself.

At least I didn’t cry this time.

When I return from around the curtain, Nurse Isuzu places the papers from her clipboard on the Head Nurse’s desk, knocks on the door, and heads outside. A moment later the Nurse returns. He walks over to the new papers, looks them over, and sticks them with the ones he was filling out. After fishing through one of the desk drawers, he pulls out two new forms and his stamp. One of the forms he sets aside, while he spends maybe a minute filling out the other. Once he’s done filling it out, he stamps everything, folds the new form in half, and turns to me, grinning widely.

“Well, Miss Kim, you are just as healthy as you were five days ago –adolescent notions of immortality aside.”

That’s not funny.

I nod to show I heard him.

“This,” he waves the new form, “is your pass to apply to join the judo club. It’s not a guarantee they’ll take you, but if they don’t, have them come see me, because clearly that means they took too many blows to the head.”

That was… less not funny.

I extend my hand to take the form, but he holds up a finger to show he’s not done. He reaches into my file and pulls out an envelope that looks to already have something in it.

“This is some notes from your physical therapist,” he explains, “Noting your preferred techniques and skill level. The Captain likes to have that kind of thing. This form here is the club application form,” he takes the other form from his drawer and adds it to the meager stack in his hand.

“Speaking of,” he continues, “the judo club meets in Auxiliary Gymnasium Two, which is on the other side of this building. The Captain will be there during lunch for the next two weeks to pick up applications –although since they have to get through me to get to him, he probably won’t get any after tomorrow. Never know, though. I think he has… four more prospects, right now, although I don’t believe their first meeting is until Wednesday, so that might change.”

The Director did warn me it was a small club.

“Also,” the Nurse continues, frowning seriously before continuing, “If you do join, the Captain will be notified of your PTSD –just that you have it and possible triggers, nothing more. It’s so if something happens, he can react properly.”

I nod again. I was prepared for that, actually.

“Okay,” he’s still serious, “Also, your therapist mentioned you tend to swim regularly. While you’re free to use the pool during it’s open hours, be advised that until you’ve adjusted to the routine of the judo club, you might want to take it easy for a bit –cut down on the laps a bit, just until you have it figured out. Just some advice, but worth thinking about.”

I… was not prepared for that. Whatever the club has can’t be worse than when I forced my shell of a body back into shape, but between the club and the stress of school, it might be a good idea to not completely wear myself out before lunch.

I nod again, “Understood.”

The Nurse smiles briefly before continuing, “One more thing –the stress of adjusting to your new school might trigger withdrawal symptoms. If those occur, let me know as soon as you can.”

I swallow, “More needles?”

The nurse pauses, then gives me a gentle smile, “No, that would just make things worse. In fact, there’s a notice in your medical file to avoid administering high-risk dependency drugs unless absolutely necessary. You also probably shouldn’t use high-strength cough medicine.”

I’m not sure if the last one was a joke or not, but it’s good advice either way. Besides, I hate drugs. My allergy medication a reluctant exception.

“Speaking of,” he slowly reaches into his pocket and carefully pulls out what I eventually recognize as a business card, “This is the contact info for the school counselor. You have an appointment with her Tuesday after school to see how you’re adjusting. She wanted to see you relatively soon, but you should be able to change your meeting time in the future so it doesn’t interfere with club practice.”

Weekly therapy sessions are one of the conditions of my grant to attend Yamaku. I nod again and take the card, placing it in my pocket. Nurse hands me the documents and grins.

“Well, that’s it,” he declares, “Welcome to Yamaku, and don’t be late to the welcome ceremony tomorrow.”

I nod again and bow quickly, “Thank you.”

Nurse just grins and jabs a thumb at the door. I nod one last time and leave his office. Dinner awaits.

Where there's life there's hope, and need of vittles.

+++
Next Chapter

That was a tricky chapter for me, so here’s hoping it went well for everyone.

The trimester of what is technically my second year of high school starts tomorrow,

Since it's spring I assume it's the firsttrimester...

but I gently wrap on it anyway.

"rap"

hang up my jacket on a nearby hangar.

hanger - nurse doesn't store planes in his office... probably

“Has your allergy been acting up recently?”

Remind me again what she's allergic against? Honey?

and carefully take the EpiPen from him.

I had to google that... Given what I read about it, improper use can be fatal, so I'm not sure he would give it to her without extremely detailed explanations... Not even sure if that should be used for something as harmless as allergies^^°

Other than that good chapter. Nurse has so far been conspicuously absent from your little cosmos there

Mirage_GSM wrote:various edits

Whoops, thanks for those. and yes, it's the first trimester. Cherry blossoms are no doubt floating in the breeze in cliche anime fashion throughout the entire scene. Even the indoor parts, because that's how I roll

“Has your allergy been acting up recently?”

Remind me again what she's allergic against? Honey?

Soon-hee has a ragweed allergy, which also makes her allergic to honey, chamomile tea, and melon. She will occasionally put honey in her tea anyway, because she doesn't go outside much and has a serious sweet tooth. This will bite her in the ass later on, no doubt.

and carefully take the EpiPen from him.

I had to google that... Given what I read about it, improper use can be fatal, so I'm not sure he would give it to her without extremely detailed explanations... Not even sure if that should be used for something as harmless as allergies^^°

I have remedial training in them, and it basically boils down to "if breathing is not a thing, stab in leg to make it a thing."

This is of course a gross oversimplification, but Soon-hee was probably taught how to use one even if they never gave one to her, because she might in fact stop breathing if her reaction is bad enough. There's also the trust factor of giving someone who was potentially suicidal something sharp.

Other than that good chapter. Nurse has so far been conspicuously absent from your little cosmos there

Yeah, I never had a good reason to include him, but he's a fun guy to have around. I'd hang out with him, for sure.

I have remedial training in them, and it basically boils down to "if breathing is not a thing, stab in leg to make it a thing."

Well, the wikipedia article on that thing made it sound like the small brother of the monster Nick Cage had to stab himself with in "The Rock"

Soon-hee Kim is descended from Korean war laborers and was the sex slave of a gang of thugs for four years before a Predator wiped them out and she survived the crossfire by hiding in a closet and was pseudo-adopted by Kenji.

It's probably best that you don't mention most of this in the mainstory if you're going for anything even remotely resembling “normal.”

Oddball wrote:

Soon-hee Kim is descended from Korean war laborers and was the sex slave of a gang of thugs for four years before a Predator wiped them out and she survived the crossfire by hiding in a closet and was pseudo-adopted by Kenji.

It's probably best that you don't mention most of this in the mainstory if you're going for anything even remotely resembling “normal.”

Eh, normalcy is overrated. Besides, it ain't like she's the only one with issues here at the Dysfunction Junction that is Yamkua

Speaking of which....

Now that Operation: Cameo is complete, lets meet some of the of the asylum inmates.

I mean students.

Although I still maintain the only difference between a prison and a high school is that high schoolers use chocolate for currency instead of cigarettes.

Usually.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Three: Soon-hee Was Here


As I head back to the dorm, I pause to examine the mural by the dormitory buildings. I had seen it on the way in, but hadn’t had time to really look at it. Kenji said a schoolmate of his had made it for a school festival, and as I look it over I notice the small bronze plaque next to it.

[School Festival Mural, Completed 2007, Rin Nomura nee Tezuka, Commemorated 2015]

The mural itself is really weird, but colorful. Looking at the humanoid shapes start to freak me out after a few moments, so I continue my journey back to my dorm room so I can go eat. It’s a bit early for dinner, but I’m hungry.

On my way back to my room I duck into the currently abandoned communal kitchen at the end of the hall by the main door. I grab one of the small casseroles in a plastic container Miya made for me. Each one is clearly labeled and forms a small stack in one corner of the fridge. A few other students have also placed food in corners or drawers. Most of it looks like specific dietary needs stuff.

I have some utensils packed among my meager possessions, but there’s a box on the counter full of plastic utensils, disposable chopsticks, and paper plates. I place the casserole –I think this one is chicken and rice with cheese and broccoli- in the microwave to reheat and grab a couple plastic forks and wait.

There’s seating in the kitchen, and I consider eating there for a moment, but decide to eat in my room, since it has at least some semblance of familiarity, and when I’m done and I can grab a book or look stuff up online on my phone more easily.

Guess I’m an agoraphobe and a hermit.

Tub of casserole in hand, along with the forks, I make my way back to my room. I use my non-tub holding hand to unlock the door, but before I can open it, I hear the door behind me unlock.

I quickly turn around to face the possible assailant, my right hand clutching my door lever so I can bolt inside at a moment’s notice.

Hey, my paranoia is perfectly justified.

Reason reasserts itself as the door starts to open, so I move my hand from the lever and try to collect myself as the door fully opens, revealing my hallmate.

The occupant of the room is an older looking girl, with brown hair a bit past her shoulders, and instead of the uniform she’s wearing heavily torn blue jeans and a purple t-shirt with some kind of band logo on it. She appears several centimeters taller than me, and her frame toes the line between slender and curvy. Her right leg is currently at an odd angle, as she’s propping the door open by wedging her foot under it.

That looks really painful.

She pokes her head out of the threshold and looks both ways. Her eyes remind me of steel in both their color and sharpness, and when she looks at me I have to fight the urge to take a step back.

“Excellent,” she says, “you’re alone.”

That makes me feel so safe right now.

Apparently the girl realizes her poor word choice, because she grimaces and adds, “Sorry, poor choice of words. It’s just that students aren’t always in the best state of mind when they first arrive here, so I wanted to make sure your company had left before introducing myself.”

Her words seem carefully chosen, and there’s also an odd polish to her voice. It reminds me of what Kenji said about this school having a reputation as a dumping ground for rich family’s kids.

“Anyway,” the girl says, “My name is Setsuko Oono, and it is a pleasure to meet you.”

She certainly sounds like a rich kid.

The girl manages a very formal bow despite using her own foot as a doorstop. Anywhere else it would be a leap of logic, but I’m starting to wonder if her foot is prosthetic.

Though I can’t match her formality- and more to the point, don’t want to- I return her bow as best I can with a tub of waiting food in my hand, and say, “I’m Soon-hee Kim, nice to meet you.”

Oono nods and smiles, showing no reaction to my name as she asks, “You’re a first year, I take it?”

“Second,” I reply, “But it is my first year here.”

“Ah,” Oono says, and her eyes look over my small frame for a moment before she continues, “Well, you may have guessed that I’m a third-year, but since we share a bathroom you don’t have to call me ‘sempai.’ Actually, I’d appreciate it if you just called me Setsuko.”

“Um… okay. Just call me Soon-hee, please.”

Setsuko nods again, “Very well, Soon-hee,” she smiles and looks at my waiting food, “I’m afraid I’ve kept you from your meal long enough, so farewell for now,” she starts to pull her foot from under the door, but looks back to me and adds, “Oh, if you’re curious about your fellow hallmates, Maiko Nagita is a second year who lives next to you on my right,” she gestures with her right hand for clarity, “and down the hall across from the bathroom in 226 is another third year, Aya Nakajima. She… mostly keeps to herself. At the other end of the hall are a couple first years, I believe, but I haven’t seen them much, and they got dropped off yesterday…” her eyes glance to her left for a moment before returning back to me, “Sorry, I’m rambling. Good evening, and welcome to Yamaku.”

“Thanks.”

Setsuko nods lightly, bows again, and steps back into the room, her door closing behind her as she unprops it. The way she moved her right leg makes me wonder if there’s more than just a prosthetic foot, but it’s not my business, and in any case, I have food. I must eat the food.

I go inside to do that, closing and locking my door behind me before kicking off my shoes. The casserole is still a bit cold in the middle, but it’s good. Miya has trouble cooking a lot of things, but she’s really good at baking, and along with the casseroles she gave me a bunch of cookies.

Once I finish the casserole and clean up, I grab a few cookies to slowly inhale while sitting at my desk. I look around my room, at my bookshelf filled with manga, light novels, foreign poetry and literature, the posters on the wall, and my bed.

It’s all mine, sure, but, for some reason, the room doesn’t feel like it’s mine.

Maybe it’s because I just moved in?

My wandering eyes eventually linger on the framed candy wrapper –a gift from a man who came into my life because he had a job to do, but came back because he wanted to. When Kenji told me he’d visit again, all those months ago, I didn’t really believe him. He had come to me for information, and he’d gotten it, so why come back?

Honestly, I still wonder that sometimes. Regardless why he came back, I’m very grateful to him, because throughout my recent ordeals, he was one of the few things I could rely on.

My meandering thoughts are interrupted by my phone vibrating in my pocket. The sudden sensation makes me jump in surprise, and by the time I’ve collected myself and pulled it out, the vibrating has stopped.

Checking the screen reveals a text message, which I quickly open, since it’s probably from Kenji or Miya-san, though something from my Foundation Advocate is possible, too.

I hope I’m done with paperwork for a while.

Bureaucracy sucks. Anyway, the text is from Kenji:

Hey, I know it sucks moving into a new place and being on your own. Just remember that you’re not really alone anymore, even when sometimes it’ll seem like it.

I smile at the text and put my phone away. As long as he’s there for me, I’ll never be alone.

My eyes wander back to the framed wrapper. The dorm room might not feel like mine yet, but it will soon enough. I managed to make my room at the psych ward my own. I can do that here, too.

Two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.

+++
Next Chapter

Home is where you hang your hat.

Besides, it ain't like she's the only one with issues here at the Dysfunction Junction that is Yamkua

Well, there's a pretty big difference between "I was disabled in an accident that killed my family" and "i was a sex slave until the aliens came."

[School Festival Mural, 2007, Rin Nomura]

Her name is Tezuka.

with brown hair a bit passed her shoulders,

past

Short chapter by your standards, but I'm not complaining
Carry on.

Mirage_GSM wrote:

[School Festival Mural, 2007, Rin Nomura]

Her name is Tezuka.

She got married. There was a boy. a blind boy. In the art club. See Chapter Eight of Master Detectives.
I added a nee to avoid further confusion (knew I shoulda kept that in.)

with brown hair a bit passed her shoulders,

past

Whoops, fixed.

Short chapter by your standards, but I'm not complaining
Carry on.

Yeah, these breather chapters can be short sometimes.