Katawa Shoujo Forums

Miscellaneous beyond all reason. Contest entries, cut scenes, fluff & nonsense.

Off the Slopes — Contest entry — See below
Akira's Surprise — S9 entry
For SCIENCE~! — Silly piece of fluff, with Misha & Emi
Emi Swimming — a scene that got cut from Avenues of Communication
Akio and Akira — Contest Entry
A Katawa Christmas Carol — SX entry
Into the Woods — Contest Entry
Let it Snow — Secret Santa 2020 entry
Return
Midnight Jellyfish
No Good Deed — Secret Santa 2021 entry
Any Flavor But Lemon — NSFW
Katawa Shoujo as a Series of Funerals
Dashing Through the Snow... —Secret Santa 2022 entry
Tatties in the Oven — Secret Santa 2023 entry

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The following post was written in response to Stiles Long's writing contest. Each participant was given a list of KS character pairings and a list of locations. One of each was chosen for this fic.

There were a limited set of options available to participants in the contest and it may be that this fic resembles others. Any such resemblance is coincidental.

Assigned pairing & place I chose: Miki & Yukko at a Ski Lodge.

Off the Slopes

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I walked into the ski lodge, my stomping due more to my mood than to the need to clear the snow off my boots. I headed to the snack bar, determined to drown my frustrations in the kind of delicious deep-fried foods that gave Emi conniptions. I never could figure out why she rode our team’s asses about our diets, especially me—if I put on a couple of kilos, she'd have an easier time beating me. But I guess she's never been about doing what was easy.

And apparently, neither was I, today. I'd come to the ski resort to spend my winter break weekend with two objectives in mind, and I wasn't having much luck with either one so far. I'd spent all morning on the beginner slopes (ugh!), trying to figure out if I could ski with just one pole. The verdict: not very well. I just couldn’t get the pole across my body fast enough to use on both sides, and using it on only one side kept me off-balance worse than no poles at all. So I’d spent the last couple of hours practicing with no poles. It was working out better than I’d expected, but it was exhausting on my knees and core in new and different ways. But I was determined to make a stab at an intermediate run after lunch, even if it killed me. I was sick of the beginner slopes, where the other skiers were more frequent obstacles than the moguls.

I got a tray full of greasy gooey goodness, and found a seat at a table near the fireplace. I peeled out of my jacket and loosened my boots, sighing in relief at the sensation of blood flowing back to my extremities. Then I dug in to refuel.

Ten minutes or so later, I looked up from my now-empty tray, feeling less grumpy. Food always helped when I’m pissed off. I checked out the lodge as I sipped my cocoa. There was the usual assortment of skiers, from bouncy little kids to wiry athletic grandparents, but the majority of the folks were around my age, give or take. A seemingly perfect population for finding a quick lay, but the two guys and one girl I’d chatted up so far had all been scared off by my stump. Dammit.

“Hey, lady, what happened to your hand?” piped a small voice beside me. I turned to see one of the little snow rats in a one-piece snowsuit staring at my left arm.

“What do you mean?” I asked innocently.

She frowned. “Where is it?”

I made a show of looking at my left arm, and I gasped in astonishment. “Where did it go? It was here just a minute ago!”

Her eyes went wide, and she gaped at me. “Really?”

“Maybe the snow ferrets got it during my last run,” I said, looking concerned.

“Snow ferris?”

“They’re long snowy white creatures that live in the moguls. They’re usually harmless, but sometimes they get annoyed with people poking at their homes with ski poles.” I frowned. “That would explain why I only had one pole at the end of my last run,” I said thoughtfully.

I didn’t think the little girl’s eyes could go any wider, but they did at that. “Really?”

I didn’t want to scare her off from ever skiing again, so I relented. “Nah, not really. There’s no such thing as snow ferrets.” I grinned at her. “But it makes for a good story, right?”

She looked dubious for a moment, then she giggled. “I’m gonna tell my little brother about the snow ferris!”

I laughed with her. “Don’t scare him too badly.” I leaned in closer, and whispered, “Just scare him enough to keep him in line.”

She giggled again, and scampered off, presumably to terrorize her brother with stories of the carnivorous snow ferris.

“Was that nice?” asked a quiet voice behind me, sounding nervously disapproving.

I turned around and was startled to see a familiar face. It took me a second to realize who it was, because she was so out of context here in the ski lodge. Eventually, my brain coughed up a name. “Yuuko?” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here?” A silly question, as she was wearing a jacket and snow pants, with ski boots on her feet. She was holding a tray with food and drink on it.

She gave me a nervous smile. “Skiing?” she said, making it sound like she was asking for my permission.

“Well, yeah, I mean, of course, I just…uh… Sorry. Didn’t expect to see you here,” I finished lamely.

“Nor I you,” she said quietly. “Uh…may I sit here?” she asked, gesturing to an empty spot across the table from me.

I shrugged. “Sure.”

Yuuko set down a tray of food that looked only marginally healthier than my own lunch, then took off her jacket and sat down. “Are you here to ski, or just to frighten the local children?” she asked, as she began to eat.

I grinned. “You heard my story? Pretty good, huh?”

She tried to frown reprovingly at me, but the effect was rendered less intimidating by the noodle dangling from the corner of her mouth. “You really shouldn’t go scaring little children like that.”

I waved that off. “Eh, I didn’t scare her, I told her a good story.” Then I smirked. “Of course, she may scare her little brother. But that’s what big sisters are for.”

The severity of Yuuko’s frown was diminished by a twitch of her lips at that. “That’s not what I did to my little brother,” she protested. “I helped him.”

I shrugged. “My brothers survived me. I like to think I helped make them stronger.” I gave her a skeptical look. “You were never mean to your brother?”

“Well…” she looked shamefaced and admitted, “I once told him how a book he was reading ended, while he was partway through it.”

I laughed. “So that's what happens when you piss off a librarian, huh? Spoilers?”

She looked sheepish. “I only did it once, though.”

I shook my head and sipped my cocoa.

“Do you ski much?” Yuuko asked.

“I skied a lot growing up. But this is my first time skiing since…” I waved my stump in the air.

“Oh. Is it harder, with only one hand?”

That made it two people in under ten minutes asking me about my missing hand. That had to be a new record of some sort. Unfortunately. But given where Yuuko worked, she was probably used to being up front about disabilities.

“I couldn't figure out a way to make it work with just one pole, so I'm doing without. It's a bit tricky, but I plan to try an intermediate run after lunch.”

Yuuko’s eyebrows shot up. “That won’t be easy. But you're a runner, so I suppose you're in pretty good shape.” Her eyes flicked up and down the length of my body, as if assessing my fitness. Her gaze seemed to linger a moment on my boobs, which were nicely displayed in my tight sweater. Then she blushed, and looked away.

I grinned. I was used to my figure provoking envy in others. I was pretty damn hot, after all. “Yup, quite fit,” I agreed cheerfully.

She nodded, and ducked her head to give me a shy smile. “I’ve…watched you at track meets,” she said quietly. “Your form is quite impressive.” She bit her lip, and her gaze flicked back down to my chest.

Huh. I wondered if Yuuko was into girls. Now, there was an interesting notion.

My first objective for this weekend ski trip was to see if I could still ski. My second objective was to get laid. I'd kind of been in the mood for cock, but some tasty pussy could be nice. And I'd always had a fantasy of seducing a teacher. Yuuko wasn't exactly a teacher, but she was close enough.

Though I normally went for partners who could keep up with my sass, someone meek and shy that I could dominate could be a fun change of pace. Her wrists were thin enough I could probably hold them both in my one hand, pinning them above her head as I kissed her and caressed her with my stump. I wondered what kind of noises she would make. I bet she squeaked adorably…

“Miki? Are you…” Yuuko trailed off, looking nervous. With a start, I realized I'd drifted off into lewd fantasy while staring at her. Her blush was even more pronounced, and I blushed a bit myself.

“Sorry, just wool gathering.” I flashed her a smile. “Had to get up early to catch the train here. I'm still a bit sleepy.”

“Oh. Yes. I'm a bit sleepy too,” she said, as if trying to be agreeable. She unzipped her sweatshirt and slid it off, leaving her in just a tight-fitting lilac turtleneck shirt. She stretched, and gave me a shy smile. “I may go take a nap soon. How about you?”

I blinked at that stretch, with her pushing her breasts out toward me. Wait a minute, was she actually flirting? I'd been assuming that if I wanted to bump clams with her, I'd need to take the lead. But maybe those rumors about her and Kenji were true, and she didn’t mind getting it on with students. She did fill out her shirt quite nicely. Tasty looking handfuls.

As I smiled back at her, her smile grew warmer, a bit more confident. She actually looked sexy, when she didn’t look like a frightened mouse. I wondered what she’d look like without those glasses hiding her face.

What the hell. At worst, I'll have to avoid the library for the rest of the school year. Not that I was ever there that much anyway, so, no big loss.

“One of the things I like about being on the mountain is the sense of disconnect from everyday life,” Yuuko said. “So far above everything else. It’s like its own separate world, where things can be…different.” She bit her lower lip, a gesture that was a charming combination of nervous and seductive.

I picked up on her meaning. “Yeah, it’s like…things that happen here don’t matter back in the real world,” I agreed. I won’t tell if you don’t.

Her smile broadened and she nodded. Her cheeks were already flushed from skiing, but they seemed to go just a bit pinker as we got on the same wavelength.

“Have you checked into a room, yet?” she asked, surprising me with her directness.

“Yeah. I just dropped my bag there and hit the slopes.” Though I had taken the time to slip some condoms, lube, and a few toys into the bedside table. Objective number two, and all that.

“Ah. I’m sharing a room with my sister Fumiyo, which could make…napping…a little problematic.”

“Well, I don’t have a roommate. It should be nice and quiet in my room,” I said.

At least at first. One advantage to an afternoon fuck was that there were fewer people in the rooms nearby to complain about the noise, since almost everyone was on the slopes. I wondered if I could get her to scream?

Yuuko pulled on her sweatshirt and jacket, then stood up and picked up her tray. “I just need to stop by my room for a few…things. What’s your room number?”

“Two twenty-eight.”

She smiled at me, the most confident expression I’d ever seen on her face. Little trace of the nervous librarian remained. “See you in ten.”

I stared at her retreating form, enjoying the sway of her hips even through her ski pants, then shook my head and cleared away my own lunch remains. Ten minutes. Right.

I walked out of the snack bar whistling under my breath, a lot happier than I’d been when I’d first come in. Maybe the weekend wouldn’t be a complete loss after all.

That worked... surprisingly well, given the premise...

Now this is epic

This is my favorite contest entry out of the ones I've read so far, though that probably doesn't surprise anyone. But aside from the fact that it's a yuri pairing! I think you really did well with characterization and dialogue. You really took a different tack with Yuuko than I did, having her come on to Miki of all people. But obviously I'm easily sold on the idea that she's a covert pervert so >.>

My only complaint is that it ends when it does!

You know I love your writing Lap, so I won’t gush about that aspect of the fic.

I found this incredibly fun, one line in particular send me cascading with laughter and I’m sure you know which. Your Miki is outrageous, but very recognisable. Yuuko is... interesting, but as I’ve seen oddball once say, I’m willing to suspend my dislebeif for some good ole Christmas magic. (Arguably this is chalet magic, but hey ho.)

Alongside Crafty’s piece, which is the only other competition entry I’ve read thus far, this is incredible and a fantastic example of your writing capabilities, and evidently, your capabilities to turn potentially difficult prompts it to something light hearted and fun.

Great work.

For SCIENCE~!

This little bit of fluff was also in response to the latest story prompts put out on the Discord, but I didn't finish it before the deadline. It's probably the fluffiest thing I've ever written. Hope it at least gets a giggle.

________________________________________

Emi clattered down the stairs to the kitchen, intent upon throwing together a quick meal that was at least vaguely nutritious before heading to the library to work on a paper. But when she got to the dorm kitchen, she stumbled to a stop, utterly flummoxed by what she saw there.

It took a few moments for her brain to decipher the mess in front of her, but eventually she puzzled out that what she was seeing was Misha. Misha and what looked like just about every possible sweet food known to humankind, strewn around the kitchen with no apparent rhyme or reason.

“Misha? What the hell?” Emi exclaimed.

Misha looked up from where she was contemplating a tall parfait glass full of…something that was virulently pink. Surely no food that came from nature could possibly glow pink, could it? “Oh, hi Emi-chan~!” Misha beamed at her, as if there was nothing unusual about the current condition of the kitchen.

“Yeah, hi,” Emi replied. “What the hell is all this?”

“Science~!” replied Misha proudly.

“Science?”

“Science!”

“Uh-huh. And…how is all of this”—she waved a hand at all the mess surrounding them—“Science?”

“Hicchan was tutoring me in science, and he said that the basis of good science is forming a hy-po-the-sis, testing it, and then being able to reproduce your results consistently.”

“Well…yeah, that’s part of it, I guess.” Emi rubbed the back of her head as she looked around the kitchen dubiously. “Dare I ask what hypothesis you’re testing?”

Misha beamed. “That the pinker the parfait, the yummier it is!”

Emi looked again at the unnaturally pink concoction in front of Misha. “And…are you sampling fluorescent paints?” she asked dubiously.

Misha giggled. “Don’t be silly! This is the result of my genius thought—food coloring!” She held out the tall parfait glass to Emi. “Give it a try~!”

Emi took the glass hesitantly, then sniffed it. She could smell strawberry, and some other sickly sweet smells, and…something else indefinable.

“Go on!” Misha urged, holding out a spoon to her. “It’s for science~!”

Emi shrugged. Judging by the pink stains on Misha’s shirt and cheeks, she’d been sampling her own works extensively, so they couldn’t be too toxic, right? She dipped her spoon into the glass and pulled out a pink glob. With a final dubious sniff, she put it in her mouth. At first, all she could taste was sugar. Then the “subtler” notes started appearing on her tastebuds. Strawberry, grape juice, wasabi—Brussels sprouts??

She lurched toward the sink and spat it out, then turned on the faucet and shoved her mouth under it to rinse her mouth out. “Misha! What the hell was that?” she spluttered, once most of the vile taste was gone. She wiped her mouth dry on the back of her wrist.

Misha didn’t look at all offended by her reaction. If anything, she looked pleased. “Did you like it?”

Emi stared at her, wide-eyed, for a long moment before responding. “Noooo, I can’t say as that I did.”

“Excellent!”

“Excellent?”

“Yes, Hiichan says disproving a hypothesis can be as important as proving it~!”

“Right…” Emi reconsidered her plan to make a quick dinner. Escaping this mad culinary scientist’s lair seemed a higher priority at the moment. She backed up toward the door, and said, “Well, I won’t keep you from your…science. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Emi-chan!”

As Emi was leaving the dorm, she bumped into Miki who was just coming in. “Hey, Miki.”

“Hey,” grunted Miki. She looked sweaty and tired, like she’d just come off a long run.

“If you’re feeling hungry, Misha is making parfaits in the kitchen,” Emi said with a smile. She struggled not to giggle out loud.

Miki perked up a little at that. “Really? Cool. Thanks, Em.”

“No problem.” Emi waited until the door closed behind Miki, then she snickered the rest of the way to the library.

Certainly a bit of a fluff and certainly giggle worthy. I thoroughly enjoyed that little romp. It's a nice change of pace from some of the intense stuff we tend to enjoy on this forum. Misha was very... Misha. And Emi's little prank at the end felt very Emi. Good job as usual Lap. Nice to have a bit of light-hearted fun.

I especially loved the ending.

So, I wrote this scene fairly early on while writing Avenues of Communication, but I never quite found a place where it fit in. It's more about Emi, not Shizune or Hisao or Misha. So here it is, more a slice-of-life than a story per se.

Emi Swimming
__________________________________________

I was surprised one morning on my way to swim to find Emi waiting in a wheelchair where the paths from the dorms intersected. “Hey, Emi,” I said. She had a blanket draped across her lap against the winter chill, but the empty folded up footrests made it obvious she wasn’t wearing any prosthetics, running or otherwise.

Her expression was a little dour as she smiled up at me. “Hey, Hisao. Thought I’d join you at the pool this morning.” She started rolling down the path towards the pool.

“Uh, sure. Um…” I wondered why she was in the chair, and why she was talking about swimming instead of running, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.

“Why the wheels?” she asked, saving me from my awkwardness.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. If you don’t mind my asking.”

She shrugged, looking embarrassed. “Nothing much to say. I’ve been doing some extra running to burn off stress about exams. I ignored Nurse’s advice and I got a couple of sores on my left stump for my troubles, so I can’t wear my prosthetics for a week.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.” Given how much running meant to her, and given that it was how she was dealing with stress, I suspected that being wheelchair-bound would be harder on her than it might have been for, say, Molly. I had to step up my pace a little to keep up with her as she shoved herself faster down the path, scowling as she went.

“It sucks dead donkey dorks,” she muttered savagely.

“Emi!” I felt my face go bright red at her language.

“What? It does. I hate this fucking chair.”

I shook my head, trying not to feel like an old man scolding her. “I think you’ve been hanging out with Miki too much. It’s affecting your language.”

She laughed at that, an almost normal sounding laugh, which under the circumstances was probably the best that could be hoped for.

We arrived at the side entrance on the auxiliary building which lead to the pool area. I tapped the door-open button for her, and she flashed me a half-hearted smile. “See you in a minute,” she said, as she rolled into the girls’ locker room.

I got changed into my swim suit and t-shirt, and headed out to the pool. Coach wasn’t there yet, so I sat on the edge of the pool by Molly while we waited.

“Morning, Molly,” I said.

She nodded at me. “Hisao. How’s things?”

“Fine. I bumped into Emi on the way here—she’ll be joining us today.”

Molly’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? I thought she hated swimming.”

“She does? Why?”

“She says it reminds her too much of the PT she had to do after her accident. So why is she swimming?”

I shrugged. “She got some sores on her leg and can’t wear her prosthetics for a while, so I guess she’s choosing to swim instead of being totally sedentary. She needs to burn off exam stress somehow.”

“Huh. Well, maybe she’ll give me a more even match for a race.”

I chuckled. “I think your arms are as strong as her legs—she’ll be floundering in your wake if she tries to race you.”

“But I’ll still kick your butt on the track, once I’m back there,” said Emi, as she rolled up on the other side of Molly. “Hey, Hisao, could you pull my chair back for me?” she asked. I got up and stood behind her. She grabbed one of the conveniently placed trapeze bars by the pool’s side, and hoisted herself out of her chair, then lowered herself to the pool’s edge beside Molly after I pulled her chair out from under her. She must do some sort of upper body workout in addition to her running, because she made the transfer look easy. I tried not to stare at her legs—I’d gotten used to seeing Molly’s stumps, but Molly was an above-the-knee amputee, and Emi was below-the-knee. The thin stubs that flexed below her knees looked odd. Her thighs and butt were quite muscular, the result of all her running, which made the thinner lower leg sections look especially small by comparison. She also had a large bandage on her lower left leg, presumably covering the sores she’d mentioned.

“Well, yeah, of course you’d beat me in track, I don’t have any running blades,” Molly said easily. “Swimming is a purer competition. No mechanical aids.”

“Pfft! Aids? My blades aren’t aids. I’ll let you borrow my blades and I’ll still beat you wearing my everyday legs.”

Molly just snorted. It was a hollow offer, we all knew, since prosthetics were custom fitted to the individual, and ATK and BTK prosthetics were quiet different. It was just Emi being competitive. Really, if she hadn’t alienated Shizune so much by running through the halls, the two of them might have gotten along quite well over a game of RISK or some other non-physical competition.

Coach came out of the locker room and waved us into the water, and we all began our workouts. I knew from talking with and observing Molly over the last few months that not having feet to kick and help keep your legs elevated made swimming more challenging, but Emi managed fairly well. She might have hated it, but she tackled it like it was the track, pushing herself all out. She couldn’t keep up with Molly, though, and that seemed to annoy her.

Emi paused after a half dozen laps, and hung on the edge of the pool, breathing hard. I stopped too, and called over to her, “Are we having fun yet?”

The look I got in return should have boiled the water out of the pool. I was suddenly grateful that we had Molly’s lane between us, or I might have ended up with forty kilos of pissed off soggy track star on my back, trying to drown me.

Discretion being the better part of valor, I pushed off for my next set, swimming away from the second-fastest thing on no legs in the pool.

After over three months of practice, I could now swim a half-dozen laps without pause or conscious thought. The regular motions came automatically to me. Since I wasn’t focused on improving my technique in order to win a race, like Molly or Emi, I could just move along at a steady pace, my mind in turn occupied by other thoughts while my body did its own thing.

Of late, my thoughts turned to planning what I was going to study that day. Much to my own surprise, I was feeling fairly confident about the upcoming exams. I had never studied in such a concentrated and focused fashion as I had in the past few months, but it seemed to be working. I also spent some time ruminating over what I needed to cover in my next tutoring sessions.

Forty minutes later, I was just preparing to leave the pool area when Coach called to me, “Nakai, would you grab the first-aid kit and a towel for me, please?” She gestured to the large white box sitting by the door to her office. I nodded, and retrieved the kit and brought it over to her. She was squatting on the floor in front of Emi, who was back in her chair.

After I set the kit down next to Coach, I went and grabbed two towels from the stack by the locker rooms. I handed one to Coach, and one to Emi. “Here. You look cold.”

She blinked at me, looking slightly puzzled, then she glanced down at her modest chest. She laughed, and wrapped the towel around her shoulders. “Such a gentleman, Hisao. Most guys would have just enjoyed the view.”

I blushed, not wanting to admit that I had been enjoying the view, but I also felt sorry for her being chilly. Very chilly, by the look of things.

Coach was peeling the soggy bandage off of Emi’s stump, and I beat a hasty retreat before becoming privy to the actual state of Emi’s sores. There were some things I just didn’t need to know.

“See you tomorrow?” I shot over my shoulder.

Emi sighed mournfully. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

Swimming seems to be quite popular at Yamaku. I really should've written a pool story by now....

“It sucks dead donkey dorks,” she muttered savagely.

“Emi!” I felt my face go bright red at her language.

“What? It does. I hate this fucking chair.”

I like how Hisao reprimands her for using kiddy words and then she drops the f-bomb.

Coach is hiding her annoyance at Emi's dumb decision to swim with open sores and regular bandages well. She can't have told Nurse of her plans otherwise I'm sure he'd have dug up water-proof plasters for her.

Cleverly done, I don't remember reading other examples of Emi's tendency to self-sabotage.

Very slice of life indeed. Brilliantly written as usual, and Emi is brilliantly Emi. (You've proven to have no problem with characterisation, so I'm not surprised). Always nice to have something to hold us over until more AoC, especially when it's such a finely written and welcome story. Hisao definitely knows his stuff here too.

Considering I write a Molly route, I was pretty ashamed how long it took me to remember she had above the knee prosthetics, and that was what you were referring too with BTK and ATK.

While there are running prostheses for ATK amputees I think they would be at a severe disadvantage compares to a BTK amputee like Emi in a race.
Also not sure if there were such prostheses ten years ago...
Otherwise nice story. Not sure how it would tie into Avenues of Communication but it stands well on its own.

Akio and Akira

The following post was written in response to Stiles Long's writing contest. Each participant was given a list of KS character pairings and a list of locations. One of each was chosen for this fic.
There were a limited set of options available to participants in the contest and it may be that this fic resembles others. Any such resemblance is coincidental.

_________________________________________________________

Mutou dropped into the bus seat. A little breath puffed out as he dropped, almost but not quite sounding like a soft groan. Another week, another rent payment earned, another set of students’ minds hopefully filled with at least a little bit knowledge. He stared blankly out the bus window at the Yamaku campus as he waited for the bus to begin moving.

He suffered from no delusion that he was the world’s most captivating and effective teacher, but he did care about his students. He hoped he was at least helping prepare them to pass the science portion of their Center Tests come next spring. There were even a few who seemed to enjoy the sciences. The new boy, Nakai, was showing some promise—

“Hey,” said a blond young man as he sat down next to him. Then Mutou did a double-take. No, not a young man, a young woman, he decided. Slim, short hair, a man’s suit, but definitely female. He nodded to her, then turned his attention back out the window.

“You’re Mutou, right?” asked the stranger, forcing him to look back at his seat-mate. Which also made him question why the young woman had chosen to sit next to him—there were plenty of empty seats on the bus.

He nodded, not encouragingly. He was tired, and not really in the mood for chit-chat.

“I’m Akira Satou; my younger sister Lilly attends Yamaku.” Well, their hair at least matched, but little else did. The elder Satou was slim where Lilly was not, and apparently not as formally polite as her younger sister, because she went on, in the face of his silence, “You have a kid named Hisao in your homeroom class, right?”

Mutou nodded.

“What’s your take on him?”

Mutou resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to get out of this encounter without speaking. “Why do you ask?”

Satou shrugged. “Eh. Just trying to take care of my sister. The boy looks like he’s a puppy dog waiting to attach himself to someone, and I think my sister has her eye on him. You should pardon the expression.”

“I don’t bother trying to track my students’ love lives, but as the new boy at school, I’m sure he’s attracted a fair bit of attention. You may have noticed that Yamaku’s student population skews heavily towards the female.”

“Yeah, lucky kid. As long as he doesn’t go breaking too many hearts in the process.”

Mutou snorted at that expression, which seemed particularly ironic given Nakai’s condition. Satou noticed, and cocked her head at him. “Something funny? Has he already been breaking hearts?”

Mutou shook his head. “No. Well, not that I’m aware of.”

Satou waited, as if hoping for him to say more about what had amused him, but he kept silent. He wasn’t going to discuss a student’s medical condition with a stranger. After a moment more of silence, she shrugged and went on, “Well, anyway, I was just looking for some idea of what he’s like, just hoping my sister is…I dunno. Making smart choices. Not setting herself up to get hurt.”

“You make it sound as if she already has more than just her eye on him,” Mutou observed.

“Yeah. Maybe. It’s hard to tell, even for me—she can be pretty reserved when she wants to be. Unfortunately.” She scowled at the back of the seat in front of her for a moment.

Mutou sighed to himself. “Keeping in mind that I only see your sister for one class a day, she’s always struck me as a remarkably level-headed young woman. I don’t think you need to worry about her choices.”

“Yah. I guess. I hope.” Satou blew out a breath, then smiled at Mutou. “Still, she’s my baby sister, and I’ve been taking care of her ever since my parents left Japan a few years back, so I’m perhaps a bit protective.”

Mutou shrugged. “You can’t protect her from everything. She needs to make her own mistakes, too.”

Satou rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I’m hoping I can at least loan her a little of my hard-won wisdom, and keep her from making some basic mistakes.”

Mutou snorted again. “You don’t look old enough to be so worldly wise.”

“Hey! I’m twenty-five. I can’t be that much younger than you.”

“I’m seven years your senior, young lady,” Mutou said, mock seriously.

“‘Young lady’ my ass,” said Satou. “I’m no lady.”

Mutou bit his tongue on the first response that came to mind. Then on the second, and the third. Which left him with not much to say but, “Hmm.”

Satou’s mouth twitched in a sardonic little smile. “Okay, I guess I did set myself up with that one.”

“Just a little bit.”

“Okay, so how about you?”

“Pardon?”

“I mean, it's obvious you aren’t going to talk about your students with me, a stranger. So tell me about yourself.”

Mutou stared at Satou, utterly bemused. “Why would I want to do that?”

Satou nudged him in the ribs with a remarkably sharp elbow. “Oh, come on, a not-unattractive young woman sits down next to you on the bus and chats you up? Why wouldn’t you want to get to know me better?”

Mutou’s bemusement gave way to amusement, and he said, “But you’re trying to get to know me, not vice versa.”

Satou shrugged. “Eh. Step one.”

“Is this just an elaborate attempt to pump me for more information about Nakai?”

“Nah.” She waved a hand. “You’re obviously not gonna talk, and besides, you’re probably right. I should let Lils make her own mistakes. Dammit.”

Mutou felt a stirring of interest in this slim, irreverent woman, but he tried to quash it. No good could come from getting more personally involved with someone who sounded like she was as much a student’s guardian as sibling. And in any event, his stop was approaching.

He pressed the stop request button beside him, and said, “Well, Ms. Satou, I’m afraid this is my stop.” He made to rise, hoping she would take the hint and let him out of his seat.

She rose, and said, “What a coincidence. It’s mine, too.”

Mutou looked at her skeptically. “Really?” He’d never seen her on the bus before, let alone at his stop.

“Well, any stop is my stop, really. I need to get on the next bus going back up to Yamaku to pick up my car.”

Mutou thought about that for a moment, as they paid their fares and got off the bus. “You got on the bus solely to speak with me?”

Satou shrugged. “Yeah. I wanted to talk with you about Hisao, and hadn’t managed to catch up with you anywhere else before then.” She offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Hope that doesn’t sound too stalker-y.”

Mutou considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “No…a touch odd, perhaps, but not stalker-y.”

Satou gestured to a the tiny neighborhood bar that stood on the opposite street corner. “Can I at least buy you a drink, to apologize for intruding?”

Mutou almost declined on reflex, but then he caught himself. What did he have waiting for him back at his apartment? More grading? A drink would be nice, and a drink with a “not unattractive” woman would be even nicer. “Very well, Ms. Satou. A drink sounds lovely.”

“Only if you stop calling me Satou. My name is Akira.”

Mutou hesitated. It seemed awfully soon to be on a first-name basis, but, well, she was half-foreign. Different ways, and all that. “Akio,” he said, holding out his hand.

Akira grinned as she shook his hand. “Akio and Akira. Sounds like a comedy act.”

Mutou snorted. “Which one of us is the straight man?”

Akira laughed out loud and hooked her arm through his, pulling him toward the bar. “Come, now, Akio. I think we both know the answer to that one.”

Mutou was all too afraid he did.

A brilliant entry Lap. I must say I’m a saddened to see the first attempt not make it, but this is a really interesting story. I think Mutou is pretty believable, and Akira is exactly the type of person who would pursue him to protect Lilly - though Mutou doesn’t seem to think it’s neccssary.

I actually really like this version of Mutou by the way, there’s something very poetic about him - I can’t quite pin it down.

That last part had me laughing considerably too. Good job Lap!

Oh, on another note, it might prove useful to create a contents for your one shots, or something of similar nature, since you upload quite frequently.

I actually disagree. I don't think Akira would be the kind to ask HIsao's teachers about him. She'd rely on her own judgement.
Still apart from the setup the story worked quite well.