This is a story about Misha, Saki, a jet fighter, some incense, and a lot of ice cream.
“Don’t you think, Suzu?”Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
Miki is staring at me intently, but I had totally tuned out from what she was saying. The best defence is a strong offence though, so rather than admit I wasn’t listening, I’ll just brute force it.
“Absolutely. Unequivocally. Without a shadow of a doubt,” I reply.
She’s laughing now. Everyone is laughing now.
Uh oh.
“See, told you the new guy was kind of cute. Suzu feels more strongly about it than I do though.”
That probably serves me right for zoning out like that. As for the ‘new guy’, I didn’t really pay him any attention. I can’t picture his face or remember his name.
Miki scoots close to me and whispers in my ear. “Busy dreaming?”
I nod my head as the guys across the grass start arguing about the relative attractiveness of the new kid in our class.
“Anything scandalous?” she asks.
I try to put the dream back together in my head. It’s difficult, dreams are never very vivid for me. It feels like sifting through a cloud for something… like a frog. Mutou, our science teacher, claims that frogs can sometimes end up in clouds…
“It was a story about Misha, Saki, a jet fighter, some incense, and a lot of ice cream.” I whisper to Miki, who immediately takes on a catlike grin. It feels important for some reason, but already it's beginning to dissipate.
“Fill me in later.”
“I’ve already forgotten.” Miki laughs and leans back to tune into the guys conversation.
“I guess, objectively speaking, he wasn’t ugly,” Akio admits, before taking a bite of his bread. I can’t imagine he’s thrilled that Miki is calling another guy cute, since he has a bit of a crush on her.
“And what makes someone objectively ugly?” I ask, but he just rolls his eyes.
“Okay, well, I guess there’s probably no such thing,” he concedes.
“Then it’s probably not much of a compliment, is it?”
Akio just shrugs, and now everyone’s laughing at him. I guess I kind of threw him under the bus on that one. He does speak without thinking a lot, or tries to sound smart when he isn’t.
I feel particularly irritable today. Maybe it’s the heat, or the various loud noises around us, but even things that usually cheer me up don’t seem to be cutting it today. We’re outside, the air is crisp, and most people are just cheerily enjoying the sunshine in their little groups. Still, despite that clean smell of fresh country air, I feel… annoyed.
It’s dangerous for me to feel anything too strongly. It might trigger my cataplexy. That’s why, more often than not, I choose to just coast through the day. With a sigh, I lean back on the grass. The others don’t say anything, but Miki chuckles.
“Done being social for the day Suzu?” she asks playfully. I don’t bother replying. I can hear Lelouch, the quieter but infinitely nicer of my male friends, laughing. I wish I was in a better mood, or that I had at least looked at the boy I’m apparently in love with when he introduced himself to the class this morning.
I close my eyes and think, but for the life of me I can’t remember what he looked like. Oh well, I guess I’ll check him out after lunch. I’ll probably forget though.
That’s okay, life isn’t going anywhere.
My life isn’t going anywhere.
I open my eyes and take a long hard look at Lelouch. He gives me a nod, and a wink.
Lelouch has aphasia. He told me once that he was always quiet, but since his stroke he doesn’t want to waste a word ever again. I found that starkly beautiful, once.
I tune back into the conversation happening beside me.
“I haven’t started it yet, I’ll probably ask Kapur to help me out,” Akio says. He’s been asking Molly Kapur for help with his homework as an excuse to hang out with her, or at least that’s what Miki tells me. Apparently, he also has a slightly creepy crush on her. I guess the guy is just horny.
“I’ll be getting ‘Happy Hippy’ here to help me with mine,” Miki laughs.
I’m ‘Happy Hippy.’ That’s an affectionate nickname she only uses when she thinks I’m acting grumpy…— which I guess I sort of am— and because I have ‘hippy shit’ according to Miki, i.e. a mood ring and a few incense candles.
“Okay,” I respond without sitting up. Everyone laughs again. I’m terribly funny you see, even though I don’t mean to be. Miki tells me there’s another girl like that, Tezuka, or something; funny inadvertently, or funny by existence or something. I don’t know how I feel about the latter.
I sit up and check my watch. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion today.
Lelouch smiles at me. Miki is just smiling at the world. Akio is eating something, there’s rice on his cheek. It’s such a nice day, I’m with my friends, and I should be happy. The sky is big and blue and empty, and so am I.
“Suzu?” Miki nudges me.“Having a grumpy day?” she asks. Lelouch and Akio are talking about something else now. Well, Akio is talking, Lelouch is just listening. Poor guy.
“Yeah, sorry,” I answer her.
“Not your fault,” Miki replies, before flicking my head. “You can’t control what’s going on in here.”
“That’s the problem.”
“Well, I think you’ve been doing okay lately,” she says, and Lelouch nods his head. He’s probably remembering the first time he saw me get too emotional. Not a fun time. “Besides, you being a bit boring beats carrying you up the stairs.”
I wish I could shut my feelings off the way Miki clearly thinks I can, but I can’t. I feel as though the world is somehow separate from myself.
Miki rocks back and forth on her butt before jumping to her feet.“Come on, let’s beat the crowds.”
Akio brushes the grass off his knees and grabs his bag. Lelouch helps me up, and even plucks a blade of grass from the exposed circle of skin on the front of my knee brace. I smile at him, and he smiles back, and the prospect of afternoon classes suddenly feels a little easier. I wish I could kiss him. I wish that he would kiss me. It’s called positive actualisation, and I’m awful at it.
“Thanks,” I say, and we go on our cheery way, with Miki playfully shoving Akio, and Lelouch holding the doors for me. He’s a real gentleman.
This is just how lunchtimes go here at Yamaku. Well, for me. This is how the good ones go, and really, most of them are good ones.
What do I even have to be frustrated with? From every outside angle, everything in my life is working exactly how it should. Well, almost everything, aside from my usual problems.
As we re-enter the main building, a group of what looks to be first years passes us. They’re carrying planks of wood, various paints, and tools, which Akio apparently finds humorous.
“And so begins the annual slave labour contests,” he laughs, only to receive an elbow jab from Miki.
“Show some school spirit dude!”
“Why? This place sucks!” he replies with another, more bitter, laugh.
“This is about the only place a dude like you can survive,” Miki teases. It’s true really.
“I’m going to make a success of myself, and it won’t be thanks to this prison!”
“This is why no-one in the literature club likes you,” I explain, and this time he doesn’t laugh.
“Ouch,” Miki laughs. “She has a point Akio.”
“No, she doesn’t,” he replies, annoyed. “I’m well liked.”
“Sure,” Miki laughs again.
“I am…” Akio starts, but his words peter out, in a sad, lonely, kind of way. If he was less of an ass I might be sympathetic, but he isn’t so I’m not.
Nobody else speaks as we head up the stairs to our homeroom, but the halls are busy with students. Some are like those first years, carrying equipment for stalls or decorations, whilst others are just milling about, chatting outside of classrooms, or heading back for their next lesson. I tune in to a few conversations as we pass and pick up little pieces of everyone else’s lives.
“…I don’t think so, I think it’s due tomorrow…”
“…It was awful, I barely ate any of it…”
“…She’s being a real pain; doesn’t she know we’re working our butts off…”
“…But he didn’t stay the night…”
I tune back into the world ahead of me as we reach our classroom. Akio has cheered up a little, but I probably owe him an apology. We’ll both probably forget, which reminds me that there’s something I’ve forgotten…
Miki wraps her arm around me just before we enter class. She smells nice, which is weird since it’s a hot day. I don’t want to know if I smell good or not, but I feel a bit sweaty.
“The love of your life is awaiting you,” she teases, reminding me of the new kidI was supposed to check out.
“I’m sure he is,” I answer her, but Miki is persistent.
“Seriously, he’s your type.”
“I don’t have a type.”
“You do, and he is.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know these things.”
I shrug, and Miki lets go of me. She’s being a bit overbearing. I’m not really interested in pursuing anyone romantically at the moment, let alone some new kid.
The four of us enter class and take our seats. The only person I don’t recognise is being harassed by Shizune and Misha, the class reps who are equal parts annoying and obnoxious. Miki pokes me to point him out, but… I’ve already noticed him.
I guess he’s kind of cute. Boyish, a little nervous looking. He looks uncomfortable with Shizune and Misha which is a good sign that he has a brain. His hair is a bit unruly, and he has a thin face, like someone that’s exhausted.
That said, he isn’t anything exceptional. He just looks… normal. Plain even. I’m sure he’s nice enough. Maybe one day we’ll talk, and he’ll turn out to be as disappointing as everyone else. Or maybe I’ll be proven wrong, and he’ll be the most interesting man I’ve ever met. Perhaps we’ll never speak.
I face the front of the classroom and bury my head into my arms. Miki tries to get my attention again, but thankfully Mutou saves me from any more random teasing. Today has been exhausting, and it’s barely half-way through yet.
I take another peek at the guy behind me. There is absolutely nothing special about him, just a guy like any other. I don’t know what I was expecting.
I tune out for the rest of afternoon classes, and the pieces of my dream come colliding into one another again.
______________________________________________________
Miki makes a noise like a dying animal, but finally stretches out into the position.
“How…long…” she asks through gritted teeth.
“Forty seconds.”
“I… can’t…” She’s turning super red.
“You can, it just takes practice,” I reassure her, but she’s collapsing… her walls are crumbling. She…
Miki falls onto her side.
“How the hell… do you… maintain that…”she asks between breaths. She’s sweating a lot, probably more from her run than the stretches though.
“It’s a result of utter inner peace.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Okay, practice then,” I explain.
Miki rolls over and pokes me in the abdomen.
“It’s like stone…” she mutters in awe. Her abs are far nicer though, she’s probably just trying to make me feel good.
It’s working, but I fall over when I laugh. “You’re a terrible work-out partner,” I giggle.
“This isn’t working out, it’s medieval torture.”
“Better than running,” I quip.
“What?”
“I said it’s better than running.”
“But it isn’t?” She tilts her head, as though I’ve said something utterly bewildering. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and thankfully has an awful poker face. Her big cheesy grin pokes through almost immediately.
“So, good work out today?”
“The first half was nice, yeah, but now my abs kill. You’re a real slave driver with this crap,” she laughs.
“Find your centre Miki. I have.”
“Is that why you’re so happy all the time?” She teases. It cuts a little deep though.
“Okay, well, I can’t really run, so…”
“Hey, I’m just kidding,” she reaches over and ruffles my hair. “I’m sorry.”
“I deserved it,” I answer her with a sigh.
“A little,” Miki concedes, before helping me to my feet. My knee starts to throb when she pulls me up. I realise how badly I want to hug her, to feel her hands through my hair. I just want someone to touch me.
I briefly consider asking her to hold me but ignore that thought in a moment of better judgement. I don’t want her wondering if I’m interested in her, that would be awkward. I’m probably overthinking it, and before I can get trapped inside my head again, Miki gives me a tight squeeze.
“Where you at, kid?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her, and she squeezes me again. “Somewhere between irritable and happy.”
“We all are,” Miki laughs.
“Yeah,” I agree, and she lets go of me. “I’m hungry.”
Miki pretends to look at her watch, even though she isn’t wearing one.
“Well, I guess I’m about done with my work out, are you finished too?”
“I’ve been done since you made me fall over,” I tell her seriously.
Miki nods, “Come on then, let’s go get Taro to cook us something.”
“Shower first?”
She sniffs herself and shakes her head.
“Nah, fresh as a daisy still.”
Before I can do the same, Miki leans over and sniffs me.
“No worse than usual,” she laughs.
I just shrug, and double check her appraisal . Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, who’s going to smell me anyway? I smell totally fine. I smell like I always do. I think. Yoga doesn’t make me sweat. I smell like a mixture of my shower gel, my laundry detergent, and the incense I left burning in my room. I should have probably put that out…
“Okay then,” I say, and we start walking.
There’s a couple walking on the path ahead of us holding hands. They look content, happy. I sometimes wish that could be Lelouch and me, but it isn’t for the right reasons. I don’t like him, not like that, not really. Not anymore. It takes two to fall in love, and we were only ever one.
Sometimes I just want things, and I don’t know why, and I think that’s probably okay.
Miki snaps her fingers in front of my face; I’m walking on the grass.
“You’ve been zoning out a lot.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise,” Miki sighs, and grabs me by the wrist. I don’t think she realises how tight her grip is . “Is it something specific?”
“Nothing that isn’t entirely me,” I explain, and she laughs. That wasn’t really the reaction I was aiming for.
“Some food will do you good. Besides, Taro promised last week to make us his famous curry.”
I am actually looking forward to Taro’s cooking, the big loveable oaf that he is. A big loveable oaf who makes big loveable loafs… ha. I smile to myself.
“See, even the thought of it cheers you up,” Miki says, and pulls me along behind her.
We close the remaining distance between the track and the boys’ dormitory. A few guys eye us suspiciously as we enter, nonchalant as we are, but we would have had more peculiar looks if we brought Taro to the girls' dorm. Hanging out in the boys’ common room and pantry has always been a lot easier, since the majority of our friends are guys - and as a rule, the girl’s common room has those bitchy second years clogging it up.
The mumbling of the guys quickly stops when Taro appears at the bottom of the stairs. A second year using the kitchen grabs his stuff and moves along, like Taro’s shadow is enough to command respect. I’m only partly joking there. Lelouch told me once that Taro’s nickname among the guys is ‘Big Dog’, and apparently people go to him when they have a problem like he’s some Yakuza don or something.
“You’ll be sleepin’ with the fishies,” I mutter under my breath and laugh.
“Something worth sharing with the class?” Miki teases, giving my hand a little squeeze.
“No ma’am.”
“Hmm.”
Taro holds his hand out to Miki, and they meet each other’s palms with a satisfying thud. He doesn’t offer me a high five, but puts his arm around me instead, pulling me to his good side and squeezing me tightly.
“Hungry?” he asks, and Miki bares her teeth.
“Like the wolf,” I reply, and Taro shoots me a smile. “You said you’d cook us some curry last week.”
“You don’t have to pull me up on a promise, I like cooking for you guys; you eat anything.”
“Not true,” Miki protests, then scratches the back of her head, “I can’t think of any counter-examples though.”
Taro laughs loudly, and I can’t help but flinch at the volume as it fills the room.
“So I’ve been experimenting with mushrooms lately,” Taro starts explaining to us, but Miki immediately cracks up. “In a culinary capacity Miki, please, have some decorum.”
Hearing Taro make such an outlandish request is enough to make me laugh as well, but he shoots me a stern glare. It says: ‘I will put a horse’s head in your bed.’ Or maybe ‘guacamole’ because it only serves to make me laugh, even me.
“Anyway,” he continues loudly, “I’ve perfected my mushroom curry. Perfect fuel after a workout.”
He points towards us since we’re in our sports gear. Well, Miki is in her sports gear, my outfit is more accurately described as ‘lazy-wear’ and it has and often does double as my pyjama set.
Taro reaches underneath the counter and produces two chopping boards, before ducking down again for some cooking pots. He slides the chopping boards towards us, and gestures for me to grab the knives from the drawer beside me.
Miki reaches over for the vegetables, and Taro gives her a nod of approval as she delegates half of them to me generously.
“Careful Miki, you’ve only got the one good one now.”
“Asshole,” Miki laughs, waggling her bandaged wrist at him before using it to steady a mushroom on the chopping block. She raises an eyebrow at me, telling me to get chopping.
“So,” Miki eyes Taro with a scandalous grin, “my sources tell me you asked Saki Enomoto out on a date.”
Taro only half looks towards her as he rinses the rice, then pours it into one of the pots.
I put the knife down and slide the mushrooms I’ve already cut into a bowl.
“You did? I didn’t know you had a thing for her,” I say.
He sighs and puts the pots down.
“I did, I do.” He looks away for a moment. She didn’t give me a definitive answer.”
Miki tries to lighten the mood with her Cheshire cat smile, but clearly, it’s a sore subject.
“Well, dating someone here is a pretty big deal,” I say, trying to reassure him. “She probably just needs a little time. I’m sure she likes you.”
“Speaking of dating,” Miki continues, “is it true that Lelouch and Ikuno are…” She looks at me sympathetically, but I shrug. “You know…?”
“He plans on asking her out properly for the festival,” Taro answers, having thankfully missed the subtle look Miki shot me.
Taro grabs the mushrooms from my bowl and continues cooking undeterred, shrugging off the awkward conversation and asking Miki some obviously diversionary question about the track team. I guess Miki doesn’t want to push things, because she follows the change in conversation without complaint.
Maybe it’s even more difficult to be given a non-committal answer than a yes or no when you ask someone out. It’s not like I have any experience to relate it to, but I would rather the band aid was ripped off quickly than pulled away slowly.
After a series of uninteresting conversations about sports, school, and some apparently scandalous comment made by a second year, the topic turns once again to my love life. Miki wraps her arm around my shoulder.
“I keep telling her to stop fawning over the past, but she won’t listen,” she teases, but there’s an awful lot of truth in it. I think back to the last year, to holding hands with Lelouch in the rain, to a few memories that I can’t differentiate from a dream. To kissing hard and falling from the bed. The soft breathing and slow groaning.
I feel my cheeks go a little red.
Taro chuckles.
“Look around Suzu, you’re missing all the good stuff!” He exclaims sarcastically and gestures in a wide circle around him, at Miki’s bandaged wrist, the accessible lifts, the low counters, and the defibrillator on the wall. The good stuff is obviously being coloured by Taro’s recent foray into the dating world.
Miki punches him in the shoulder, the bad one at that, and Taro flinches in pain.
“Sorry.”
“No, I deserved it.”
I think I also said that earlier. Miki is a good judge of the punch-worthy.
“A little,” Miki laughs. “Anyway, the festival is coming up, that’s something to look forward to.”
Taro nods in agreement.
“Not according to Akio,” I laugh dryly. “You could see the steam coming out of his ears as we passed those second years today.”
Now that’s someone who is punch-worthy. Miki needs to get on that, pronto.
Having helped as much as Taro will allow -- or as much as Miki and I realistically can -- we loiter around the kitchen chatting meaninglessly until Taro finishes cooking. He makes it look effortless, but it is genuinely impressive how brilliant a cook he is. We tuck in, amid conversation.
Miki and I finish our bowls, and I have to fight the urge to lick mine clean.
Taro piles the washing up in the sink and wraps his arm over my shoulder.
“Happy?”
“I feel like a balloon, but it’s so worth it.”
Miki burps.
“I second that,” she says, with a piece of rice still clinging firmly to her cheek. “Delicious as always.”
“Well, I don’t know about you two, but I fancy a little walk after that.”
Miki nods slowly, lookinglike she might fall asleep. The smell of Taro’s cooking hangs in the air; free aromatherapy.
“Suzu?”
“Sorry, I actually have something to do tonight.”
Miki raises an eyebrow but says nothing.
“Another time then,” Taro takes his arm off me and pats me on the back. I’ve never had a brother, but I think Taro would make a good one. “Come on Miki.”
She groans as Taro practically drags her up and out of the kitchen. I follow them but take a right up the stairs instead. I can hear Miki start some joke, but the door shuts behind her beforeI can hear the end of it.
I take the stairs slowly and brush my hair out of my face. I should really check to make sure I don’t have any rice on my face like Miki, but I can’t stomach the boys’ bathrooms ever since that thick-glasses weirdo from 3-2 flashed me, presumably by accident. Miki liked that story a lot.
Up another set of stairs and down the corridor, I straighten my t-shirt and brush off the bits of dirt that still cling to my knees from yoga.
I knock on the door, and after a moment or two of shuffling behind it, Lelouch opens it.
I feel a little sick, a little excited.
He shoots me a confused look.
I reach up and pull his head into a kiss.
He kisses me back, albeit a little reluctantly.
“We shouldn’t,” I whisper.
I want to cry, but I don’t.
He kisses me again, harder this time as we fall into his bedroom.
“Suzu,” he says between kisses. “I’m with Ikuno.”
He kisses me again.
“Are we bad people?" I ask.
Lou doesn’t say anything, but his hands find my waist, my inner thigh. His lips find my neck.
I want to grab what I want, and I do.
We close the door behind us.
_________________________________________________
Next
You can click on their names to be taken to their one shots, and I would highly recommend you do so!
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- with Nurse for Suzu to realize what she needed to do. Of course, this is nitpicking - the value of maintaining the poetic flow of the prose vastly outweighs the compressed emotional timeline (.. and any saltyness I may be feeling because there wasn’t more 
This could easily have been a much, much longer story, but I’m trying hard to not be ungrateful for something I enjoyed very, very much and which obviously took a lot of effort to achieve.)
