Real (A Suzu/OC Story) Chapter 16 Now Up

[YourFavAnon]

There's no such thing as too many cute narcoleptic stories, man.

Also, Scissorlips' route still has an entire Act IV to be written, so saying it's going to be coming to an end may be slightly off :>.

Just keep writing what you want to write and don't worry about others!

[DanjaDoom]

There's no such thing as too many cute narcoleptic stories, man.

Also, Scissorlips' route still has an entire Act IV to be written, so saying it's going to be coming to an end may be slightly off :>.

Just keep writing what you want to write and don't worry about others!

True that.

Ah, I see. I just saw comments talking about the "bad end", guess I forgot that alot of the bad ends take place a whole Act before the good end, heh

Will do. I live to make my fans happy.

[Mirage_GSM]

It's been quite some time. When he started talking to Hisao I was confused for a bit until I remembered that this story was about an OC and not Hisao PoV.

“Look, if you’re going to take a girl out on a date, you can’t see each other until the date. I mean, come on, that’s like the first sentence on the first page in the handbook!”

Never heard about that one either...

“Lezard threw a book at my head,” Lelouch states rather bluntly. “War and Peace. It was huge. Sent me to the Nurse’s office and everything. He felt bad about it, at least. Admitted that he may have been...overzealous.”

Your Lelouch is quite eloquent for someone with aphasia. Did you give him a different disability?

The H-scene at the end felt a bit forced and unneccessary.

Otherwise - nice to see you back.

[DanjaDoom]

It's been quite some time. When he started talking to Hisao I was confused for a bit until I remembered that this story was about an OC and not Hisao PoV.

“Look, if you’re going to take a girl out on a date, you can’t see each other until the date. I mean, come on, that’s like the first sentence on the first page in the handbook!”

Never heard about that one either...

“Lezard threw a book at my head,” Lelouch states rather bluntly. “War and Peace. It was huge. Sent me to the Nurse’s office and everything. He felt bad about it, at least. Admitted that he may have been...overzealous.”

Your Lelouch is quite eloquent for someone with aphasia. Did you give him a different disability?

The H-scene at the end felt a bit forced and unneccessary.

Otherwise - nice to see you back.

Miki's just a jerk like that.

He has mild aphasia. He can still speak, he just likes to make his sentences (relatively) short and sweet. Didn't feel like making him completely mute, anyway.

Different strokes for different folks, I suppose. I wanted to have a little something there, anyway. At first I was going to put in a full on H-scene, but it felt to awkward too transition to. This one felt more "natural" to me.

Feels good to be back writing Snoozu, Mirage.

[Panthour]

That 'conversation' he had with his brain was great!

[DanjaDoom]

That 'conversation' he had with his brain was great!

Yeah, it was my favorite part to write, heh

[Total Destruction]

Yes. More Danja Suzu. Hawt. Awkward. Foreboding. Yessss.

"I'm a brain."

B-b-but no one's even drawn any MS Paint masterpieces for me ;_;

I don't even know what the hell I just did.

I really should sleep more.

casio nokia for danjadoom.png (14.41 KiB) Viewed 4479 times

[DanjaDoom]

Yes. More Danja Suzu. Hawt. Awkward. Foreboding. Yessss.

"I'm a brain."

B-b-but no one's even drawn any MS Paint masterpieces for me ;_;

I don't even know what the hell I just did.

casio nokia for danjadoom.png

Oh my God, I...I love you

Seriosuly, this is the greatest gift the forums have ever given me. I could get a blowjob right now, they could ask me how it was, and I'd say "It was alright, but Total Destruction just drew me my first piece of fanart and Guild Wars 2 is almost downloaded so yeah, that kind of eclipses that."

Consider yourself an honorary number one fan.

[Total Destruction]

Impossible. Blowjobs are the third best thing in the world, after sunrises and good coffee.

I'll take it, though.

[DanjaDoom]

Impossible. Blowjobs are the third best thing in the world, after sunrises and good coffee.

I'll take it, though.

Feel free to make me more MSterpieces

[DanjaDoom]

Another installment for your narcoleptic viewing pleasure. As usual, you'll have to forgive any weirdness in this installment. Weird is my niche.

Deal with it.

Anyway, please leave a comment and critique (or an MS Paint masterpiece if you so desire) and enjoy.

Chapter 12: Fluorescent Adolescent
The sum of all greatness is a good drink. My uncle told me that. Of course, he’s in jail on tax evasion now, so I’m leery of taking his advice to heart. But I always keep that little tidbit in mind.

As opposed to “tuck your thumb in when you backhand people.”

Which is why I always like to enjoy a tall glass of iced mocha whenever I have problems in the back of my mind. With soy milk, of course. I have to watch my figure.

It’s chilly out today. Which kind of begs the question of why I’m drinking iced mocha. Old habits and all that, I guess. The cafe I’m at is pretty decent as well. Stylish yet rustic, with a hint of a Moroccan theme. Maybe it’s just my school spirit, but I think I prefer the Shanghai all the same.

I press my face against the diamond muntin window, relishing the cold glass against my face. I've always liked the cold. It’s cuddling weather. Of course, I've never cuddled, so I’m no expert on the subject. It sounds nice, though.

Thinking back to a few months ago, it’s hard to imagine how much pain I was in. The slightest hint of a smile, the faintest touch would set the left side of my face on fire.

A whole two months of no laughing. It sucked; really sucked. Now, funnily enough, it makes me laugh. All of those chemicals, ointments, and pain meds. Months of them. Just so I could put my face against a window.

People stroll by the window, oblivious to the crippled teenager watching their steps. I've always been a bit of a people watcher. Other children may have cried or screamed at the sight of these strange, unfamiliar beings; for me, it was like going to a zoo, or an aquarium.

So many strange, weird people. Some really small, some really big. It was quite a sight for my younger self.

..................

It’s no use. I try distracting myself with meaningless flashbacks and musings, but nothing works. I can’t keep my mind off of Suzu. Off of what happened just days earlier.

For God’s sake, I’m a teenage boy. I should be prancing through gardens and doing twirls through the rain singing show tunes. So why am I so conflicted? Why does some nagging, irritating voice at the back of my head muse on about how this whole thing turned into a disaster?

It feels wrong. Like finishing first in a marathon and then finding out all the competitors had broken ankles. When I woke up later that day, Suzu had gone, leaving nothing behind but creased sheets and a telltale wet spot. She even took the wine with her.

Against my better judgement, I tried to get a hold of her. It was as if she’d gone into self-imposed exile. No calls were returned, no knocks on her door were answered. When I finally did catch up to her the next day, she brushed me off. It was like playing a sexual tension filled game of cat and mouse. She seemed to be going out of her way to avoid me, answering my inquiries with short form replies and turning the corner whenever I tried to approach her. After a while I just left her alone, opting to just let her deal with things in her own Suzu-ish way. Through the whole fiasco, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was my fault. Unlike Suzu, I was in control. I knew what I was doing. I could have stopped before things got out of hand. But, I didn’t.

And I may have fucked things up more than I realize.

In my frustration I forgo public manners and smack my head against the polished wooden table, attracting a few stares from other patrons. I offer an apologetic half-smile, though it seems to come off a bit threatening through my pained grimace.

The key here is to remain calm, Aaron.

Little hard right at this moment, brain...

Hey, I’m not the one who told you to smack your head against a table. Seriously, that just came out of left field. What, do you think you’re in an anime or something, where that shit’s cute? ‘Cause in the real world you just look weird.

Why are you even talking to me right now?

You can’t escape me.

What part of my brain are you, anyway? At least my last chat with you was helpful.

I’m helpful by choice, not by necessity. Now, the way I see it, you can either man up or woman down. You need to find Suzu, sit her down, and have some serious fucking discussion time. She’s neurotic enough without your table-hitting bullshit.

I hate to admit it, but you’re right. First, though, I need to eat.

I take a bite into my red velvet cupcake. It’s...decent. A little too crusty on the outside, and the insides have the rough consistency of that stuff that accumulates on the corners of your mouth while you’re sleeping. I finish the dish with little enthusiasm. These city-slickers just don’t comprehend the sacred art of cupcake making. Not like the Shanghai.

Emptying the contents of my minuscule treat into the waste bin, I’m assaulted by a rush of biting wind as I exit the cafe. Instinctively, I move my hand up to my face to shield it from the chill.

Thankfully, the wind dies down as I begin my trek through down a quickly emptying street. Seeing the stampeding herd of people barging into the coffee shops for warmth makes me breathe a sigh of relief. I certainly dodged a bullet there.

I check my phone one last time. No calls. No messages. No indication that anyone cares what I’m doing in the city.

As to be expected. Well, fine by me. I move faster on my own.

Suddenly, enlightenment hits me in the form of a faraway neon sign. The one thing that’ll get Suzu’s attention. The one universal symbol of joy that no woman can ever turn away from.

Shoes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ok, not shoes.

Much to my dismay, the numbers on the prices tags grow larger as I move farther down, where’d I have to put a mortgage on my house to pay for them. I double check the contents of my wallet one last time, as if by some off chance a couple thousand yen fell into it since I last rummaged through. No such luck.

I offer up an apologetic smile to the wearied young teen manning the counter, whose rhythmic gum chewing has evolved from “indifferent” to “still pretty indifferent but now mildly irritated.”

Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. Suzu doesn't seem like the kind of girl to like shoes that don’t have holes in them, not to mention what a pain these high heels would be to wear should she start sleepwalking again.

Sighing, I make my way out of the store, offering a polite nod towards the antisocial cashier more preoccupied with reading her magazine than paying attention to me.

I take a seat on a nearby bench, savoring the pseudo-fresh smells of the outdoor shopping street. That place reeked of cologne and Lysol.

I can’t let one failure hold me down. I will talk to Suzu today, and I will not leave this city until I have something in my hands that I didn't steal or kill to get. My people watching skills have proven useful on this trip. Based on the clientele entering in and out of shops, I've been able to discern which ones would be within my price range and which ones would have me laughed out of the building... and then thrown out, probably.

So far, it’s been more the latter than the former. Least I haven’t been thrown out of anywhere yet.

After a quick scan of the surrounding area I finally spot one promising locale. A quaint, nondescript shop on the street corner that, quite frankly, looks terribly out of place amid the bustling modern super stores.

Still, my gut feeling tells me that I’ll find just what I’m looking for in this store. It looks just like the kind of place Suzu would frequent. Upon closer inspection, it turns out to be a bookstore; a lightly stocked bookstore, but a bookstore nonetheless. If I don’t find something for Suzu here, I’ll eat my shoe.

My morale now restored to form, I enter inside, and am almost instantaneously assaulted by paper and dust particles that seem to have been fermenting for centuries.

It’s a rather spacious, antiquated place, lined with rows upon rows of shelves and hand-carved furnishings. On the walls hang portraits of distinctly non-Japanese figures, leading me to guess that this place is merely an offshoot of a company back west. I never was the biggest reader, so I wouldn't know which one.

“Hello?” I call out, flinching at how loud my voice sounds in the stilted atmosphere.

What I at first think is a mop collapsing from behind a nearby desk turns out to be a girl, clearly worn from a long day of... well, something.

“Welcome, welcome! Uhm, please, feel free to look around and see what you’d like! I’m sorry our collection is a little, uhm... barren, but we had a sliiiight problem with a termite infestation recently, it may take awhile to-... ahem, anyway, please enjoy yourself bye!”

Like a teenage sasquatch she disappears as quickly as she appeared. Looks like my selection will be a bit more restricted than I thought.

As I move farther and farther into the store I take note of how eerily similar this place is to Yamaku’s library. Same antiquated charm, same type of furnishings, same neurotic girl working the counter. Well, not the same technically, but for all I know they could be cousins.

These books seem pretty random, and I don’t think I’m able to pinpoint exactly what Suzu would be the most interested in.

Late night swimming? Street Fighter? Cheap wine?

I could buy her a wine-o birdbath and some street fighter action figures. I doubt those would be at a bookstore. And how would I wrap it? Damn, this is harder than it should be. What kind of boyfriend can’t even buy his girlfriend a simple gift?

Suddenly, like a brilliant beam of enlightenment punching me in the face, I remember our time in the auditorium. I remember the warmth in her features as she showed me her most treasured possession, and how honored I felt to share in that moment.

I frantically search through what little is on the shelves, hoping that the gift I’m looking for didn’t fall victim to some random termite infestation. At long last, I spot what I’m looking for among the worn spines and yellowed, musky pages.

A Collection of Poems and Tales, Vol. 1.

This is it. The perfect gift. The gift to end all gifts. I lift the blue-gray volume over my head triumphantly, like a scene straight out of The Lion King.

In my joviality I scarcely take notice of a vibration in my pocket. After awkwardly resting the book under my arm I pull my phone out with a flash and check my messages, eager to finally straighten things out with Suzu. To my surprise, it’s not Suzu. Even more to my surprise...

“U have 5 minutes to delver the goods or ur house gets turned into an ash tray.”

I laugh softly to myself and reply back. “Hello Miki.”

“=( How’d u know it was me??”

“Pretty sure a super suave criminal wouldn't misspell ‘deliver.’”

“Ur no fun!”

“I thought you weren’t talking to me?”

“Eh, I got bored. Molly’s studying for that stupid history test weve got coming up and everyone else is busy with festival stuff -_-...”

“Poor thing. Guess that leaves you with nothing to do?”

“Nope =( Hey, u haven’t seen Suzu around have u?”

I raise my eyebrow at this. “You mean you haven’t seen her either?”

“Nope. Not since earlier this morning.”

I begin to worry a bit. Not only has Suzu been avoiding me, but she’s been avoiding Miki and Molly as well, at least for today. I don’t have much time to ponder it, though, as I get another text mere seconds later.

“What do u mean, ‘either’’’ Did you two have some secret drunk meetup I didn't know about?"

Jesus, is this chick psychic or just strangely obnoxious? “No reason. She just looked bummed out about something, so I tried to talk to her and she brushed me off. Haven’t seen her since.”

It’s one thing for Miki to know that Suzu and I are a couple, but if she found out that we were alone together in my room she’d never let us live it down for as long as we live. I really don’t want my future children and grandchildren reading “Here Lies Aaron Fukui. He scored with Suzu Suzuki,” on my tombstone.

“>_> I’ll be keeping my eye on you, buddy boy! Keep them hormones in check, son! At least until date night :p Chow!”

I make an attempt to hide my red face as I pay the exasperated store clerk, who groans and makes a beeline for the back at the sound of something heavy and evidently wooden breaking. My dad always told me to never work in retail.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s warmed up considerably in the last half-hour or so since I left the city, drawing out some hermit-crab students undoubtedly hiding away from the cold in their dorms.

I clutch the poetry book close to my side, like an excited school girl about to present chocolates to her crush. My only problem now is the whereabouts of my aforementioned crush.
With the recent onrush of students, it’s doubtful Suzu is anywhere near here. I lap around the courtyard a few times, just to be sure. Given the orderly nature of the students, it proves to be quick task.

I’m wary of treading into the girls dorm again. They haven’t said anything, but I’ve gotten more than a few suspicious glances, and at least a couple of snickers as I’ve left. I doubt rendezvous like that are uncommon around here. After all, we’re in a beautiful, isolated countryside surrounded by kids our own age. Still, I’d rather not just stand there in the hallway and knock on the door like an idiot.

Another rumble in my pocket halts my search.

“Hello?” I ask.

“Aaron?”

Instantly I feel my stomach tighten, as if unconsciously preparing to be punched in the stomach.

“Suzu...”

The line’s quiet for a bit, save for the odd sounds of shuffling paper.

"Where are--"

She cuts me off.

“I’m at the auditorium.”

A click followed by a monotonous tone puts an end to any inquiries I have. I suppose I’ll find out what I need to know at the auditorium.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I glance at the clock on the nearby wall. About a quarter to seven. Despite still being relatively early in the day, the awkward window placement means only a miniscule amount of sunlight is allowed to shine inside the art department building. The job of keeping this place illuminated instead falls into the hands of some faulty, exposed lighting that emanates a strange buzzing sound.

If I was uncomfortable with the long, bone white hallways before, then the added element of dim lighting just plain gives me the chills. Where the hell was that auditorium again? I’m not getting my ass sliced up by some toilet ghost or whatever the hell they have here in Japan. If Suzu isn't there, I swear to God I’ll-

An ominous rumbling causes me to jump, narrowly avoiding collapsing into a discarded pile of chipped forest background paintings. Realizing that it’s a nearby AC unit, I straighten myself up and keep moving. I just had to pick this moment to suddenly remember that time the lights went out when I was playing Silent Hill. Great.

Finally, the semi-familiar hallway comes into view, complete with eerie shadows cast along the littered cardboard cutouts courtesy of the malfunctioning ceiling light above them. At least one brings to mind somebody hanging from a noose.

I don’t know how Suzu does it.

The old double doors are just as unsettling in the near-darkness as they are in the afternoon daylight. With a creaky push I open them up, and am pleased to discover that the auditorium is much brighter than the hallways outside. It still has the same antiquated charm that I remember, with the mothball curtains adding just a few more mothballs to their collection.

Almost instantly my eyes set upon a lone figure, flopped face up on the stage and surrounded by mismatched scraps of paper, some torn and yellowed with age. Erring on the side of caution, I tiptoe towards Suzu, not sure if she’s simply daydreaming or if her narcolepsy has acted up.

“Suzu? Taking a nappy-poo?”

She gingerly cranes her neck at me, evidently not bothered by the beam of light being shone onto her face. It gives some otherworldly charm to her already unique hair color.

Wordlessly, she beckons me to lay next to her, an inquest I feel I have no choice but to oblige. Laying down, I hear a choir of faint crunching beneath me, having accidentally rested on top of the strange paper graveyard Suzu’s erected. I pull one out and read it, my mind overcome with morbid curiosity. For all I know they could be pictures of students buried in a mass grave underneath here.

Months, maybe even years, of wear has left them almost ineligible.

Sending..... Another Time..... Love you.....

I can’t make out the signature at the bottom, but judging from the little content I can decipher, I have inkling on who this comes from.

“Did your... family send these to you?” I stop myself from referring to them as her “other” family.

Her upper body does an odd twitching motion, like a dying animal on the roadside.

“Yep,” she sighs, with a tone more befitting of someone reading off their grocery list.

“So, they send you money then?”

She nods, so firmly entranced by the ceiling above that I seem almost like an afterthought to her.

“Just for food. Nothing else. I don’t want anything else... not from them.”

I raise my eyebrow at her. “I thought you liked them?”

“That’s the point,” she answers automatically.

More silence as I shuffle the scattered paper pieces together, handing them back to her in a sad, Frankenstein-like heap. She clutches them in her hands for a bit, mulling over them like one would a small animal. Without warning she throws them across the stage, her face still morphed into that blank, minimalist stare that she so often puts on.

Suzu then falls to her side, her tired exhalations bringing to mind a cranky child yearning for a nap, but unwilling to stop having fun to do so. Like so many other times I've met up with her, I’m lost as to what to do. The blue book is still clung to my side, like a wild animal sniffing out for potential threats. All that torn up paper is probably putting it on edge as well.

A thump jolts my head back towards her, and I can see that she’s rolled onto her other side. The way she looks at me, with that earnest stare in her illuminated irises, sends the heat coursing through my body.

“Do you know why people die?”

Her morbid inquiry catches me off guard, to put it mildly. “What?”

“Why people die. I think it’s because they let themselves.”

She does some weird motions with her hands, running them along the contours of her body, almost as if she were caressing a sculpture.

“People are so foolish. They’re more in control of their own bodies than they think. But then again, most of them don’t think.”

I chuckle at her, hoping to achieve some semblance of frequency. “Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?”

“ I've just been thinking... a lot. I've had more time for that. I don’t like when people bother me when I’m thinking.”

“Are you thinking now?” I ask, a bit apprehensive.

“Nah,” she answers noiselessly. “If anything, you being here helps me.”

She smirks goofily at the confusion on my face. “You’re like, my thinking generator. Some of my best ideas have been around you. It’s kind of...funny.”

At the last syllable, she sits up, the bones of her elbows creaking like gunshots in the quiet theater. Out of the shadow of the crimson curtains I take in the fullness of her body. She’s wearing red converse, faded black leggings with jean shorts, and an old Henshin Tigers baseball shirt a size or so too big for her. How very Suzu-ish.

“I saw you in my dream the other night.”

“Oh, really?” I ask, a playful smile tingling my lips.

This earns me a sharp punch to the shoulder. “Don’t get too full of yourself! I think I've dreamt about everyone in this school at least once. Maybe twice.”

“Well, you've definitely got enough time.”

She nods solemnly, pulling her knees to her chin and wrapping them in her arms.

“I was on a beach. It looked really weird. Like I was in a cartoon. The sand, the sky, all of it was white. Or beige. Or off-white beige. Anyway, I didn’t have any shoes on. But the sand was soft, like feathers.”

With some effort, I pull my body closer to her, lending her my ear as a human dream journal.

“I saw me. Well, it wasn't me, since I’m me, but she looked like me...Really small, like a drawing. So I started to follow her. She was walking towards the ocean, and I tried to tell her ‘come back, you’ll drown, mini Suzu!’”

“Did she listen?”

She hangs her head in melancholy. “No. She didn't listen. They never listen to me...”

“What happened after that?”

Her brow furrows in thought, as if the idea of rummaging through her dream collective is an arduous task. Considering how often she sleeps, it may as well be.

“I didn’t see her anymore. So I decided to walk.”

“You walked?”

“Mm hmm! I mean, it was nice out, and my shoes were gone, so why not, right?.... Right?”

She’s looking for an answer? “Yeah, right! Totally love walking barefoot...”

“So,” she continues. “I was walking for a bit, then I found you.”

My interest piques. “What was I doing?”

She shrugs. “You were... watching. Just sitting on the shore, watching the waves go by. At least I think it was the waves. I don’t know. I never saw your face. You may have been seeing something of your own.”

“But, if I was in your dream, why wouldn't you know what I was looking at?”

By the way she looks at me, you’d think I just asked her where the bathroom is in Icelandic.

“You silly goose!” she chuckles, “that’s not how dreams work! They’re like... a vast, intertwining network. Every dream, no matter how insignificant or epic, are all woven together in a web. A big, dreamy, spidery... web.”

“You’ll forgive me if I have a hard time believing that.”

“Eh, you wouldn't be the first,” she shrugs, cradling her head in her palms and lying back on the mahogany stage.

"Anything happen after that?" I continue, eager to stray away from having to wrap my mind around interconnected dreams.

"The groundskeeper sprayed me with water."

"In your dream, or...?"

"Real life."

"Ah..."

“Oh, I also found my ferret in my dream,” Suzu continues.

“Your ferret?”

“Banana. Had him when I was younger. I had to leave him behind when I left with-... well, when I left. That was the first thing I cried about.”

“Oh... I've always wanted a ferret.”

“They’re smelly and chew your shoes. You get them back, eventually, just not out of the end you want.”

“Charming.”

“Very.”

We both take a minute to recharge our tanks; the witty banter is more exhausting than one would think. The rafters high above us loom like the tentacles of some shadowy sea creature waiting to strike and satisfy his daily intake of crippled teenagers. Suzu would probably revel in the experience, if only to discover what the insides of a sea monster actually look like. How many times would someone get that opportunity, after all?

A smattering of crinkling gives away Suzu’s restless mood. Not even someone as skilled as hiding away their true feelings as Suzu could avoid the elephant in the room at this point.

I inhale sharply, so focused on what I’m about to say that I don’t hear her doing the same.

“I’m sorry-”
“I’m sorry-”

She looks at me apologetically, wordlessly conceding the first words to me.

“What are you sorry for?”

Her emerald pools gaze downward at her tattered Chucks, reminiscent of a five year old being caught with her hand in a cookie jar.

“It was my fault. I wasn't... I don’t know what was wrong with me. I was thinking too hard. That’s what happens when I think too hard. I, uhm...”

In some effort to comfort her, I gingerly place my hand on her shoulder blade. Unfortunately now it just looks like a hunter holding up a dead rabbit by the scruff of it’s neck. As cute as a nervous Suzu is, it’s probably best that I let go before she gets the wrong idea.

“You were drunk. I wasn't. I could have stopped anytime I wanted too... and I didn't. I’m sorry, Suzu. I didn't want to hurt you like this.”

The looks on her face is incredulous; she seems almost flabbergasted at my sincerity. Hasn't she seen me let out my emotional side before? Am I really that detached?

“Who says you hurt me?”

“Well, I don’t know, I just assumed...”

“Assumed what? That I called you here to tell you that you made me cry my eyes out? Do you really have that little faith in me? Do you think I’m that weak?”

“Faith? Is that what this is about? Suzu, I’m just apologizing for what I did, alright? Whether or not you want to accept it is none of my concern, but it’s been a monkey on my back for the past few days, so if I want to get any sleep-”

A dull pain in my lower back makes me half-jump to my feet in agitation. The poor vision in my left eye along with the dim lighting of the place nearly causes me to trip off the stage, not helping my souring disposition any.

“You didn't hurt me...”

My feet kick up a loose pile of dust on the floor, sending them flying off into the wind. I’m sure it’s a metaphor for something. Everything in my life is just one big metaphor nowadays.

“I know... but I can’t convince myself of that. It’s frustrating, it really is.”

I close myself off to the world, as if I may be able to tap into the mystical power that would draw someone like Suzu here. If nothing here on Earth makes sense, maybe something not of this Earth will give me a better chance. The only sensations I take note of are the sounds of light footsteps over crumpling paper, and a slender arm hovering over my shoulders, digging lightly into the back of my neck.

"You couldn't hurt me... because I've let out enough hurt into this world. I'm tired of it... Maybe that's why I sleep so much. Maybe my dreams help me deal with all the hurt. I'm not sure."

The cryptic delivery of her words unsettles me. I want to stop imagining how Suzu's been hurt. It feels alienating. How could I begin to understand, even comprehend the idea of just one day up and walking away from my mother, not seeing her again for years upon years? All I can do is be there, sit there and be a wall for her to vent upon.

That's my lot in life, after all.

“Why are we so strange?” she half-whispers.

I mull over her words, achingly innocent yet wise. After a while, I find what I hope are the right words.

"Normalcy is overrated. I think you should just enjoy the time you have to be strange."

The unsettling silence that follows is soon after broken by a laugh. A small, somewhat sad, laugh. But a laugh nonetheless.

"I'm proud of you."

"Proud?" I ask, caught off guard.

"You're becoming less of a sad clown as time goes on. I feel like a mama bird watching her chick fly away from the nest."

To illustrate her analogy, she pinches my cheeks between her thumb and pointer finger, babbling on with baby-talk gibberish all the while. It's my turn to laugh.

“Do you know what today is?” she asks, a Cheshire cat grin molding to her features. Her mood's done a 180 transition, by the looks of it.

Now that she mentions it, I haven’t had a chance to check a watch or calendar all day. I've been too preoccupied with my various fetch quests.

“It’s Friday, Mr. Fukui!”

The significance dawns on me a few moments later, but after realization hits I instinctively put a guarding hand over my wallet.

“You and I have a date tomorrow! Movies and candy and stuffed animals and candy made into the shapes of stuffed animals and movies about candy, the possibilities are endless! Won’t it just be lovely, darling?”

“Your faux British socialite accent is pretty good!”

“Why thank you! I've been working on it for a while. Seriously though, date night, I want to put on like twenty pounds! You better deliver!”

Not wanting to be stuck at the mercy of a murderous phantom, I follow her closely as she skips her way out of the building. And I do mean "skip."

Such out-of-the-blue mood swings really shouldn't be normal in a person. Then again, Suzu's not most people. Not by a long shot.

As I watch her gleefully hop along the tiles, much like that Ikezawa girl from my class, a sharp edge prods me in the ribcage. Shit, I forgot to give her the book!

However, once I begin to quicken my pace a bit in an effort catch up to her, I halt mid step.

If I maybe, perhaps, just pretend to have gotten this book tomorrow while we're both on our date, I may be able to convince her to ease up on the presents and save what little is left in my pocketbook for a rainy day. My uncles have taught me many things, but how to be a frugal money miser is probably one of their better lessons. It at least saves me the embarrassment of having to ask my parents to wire me money.

My mom's already worried I may develop a coke habit later in life, so why start her up now?

Slyly, I tuck the volume away into the recesses of my coat. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I think I heard a gleeful "thank you."

I'm a genius.

[DanjaDoom]

Edit: Added/ edited some dialouge in the final scenes. Enjoy.

[Mirage_GSM]

Suddenly, enlightenment hits me in the form of a faraway neon sign. The one thing that’ll get Suzu’s attention. The one universal symbol of joy that no woman can ever turn away from.
Shoes.

Really? Buying shoes as a present?

“Pretty sure an international terrorist wouldn’t misspell ‘deliver.’”

Quite a high opinion of terrorists he has there...

So - why did Suzu avoid him all week? Did she give a reason that I missed or will that be revealed in a future chapter?

[DanjaDoom]

Suddenly, enlightenment hits me in the form of a faraway neon sign. The one thing that’ll get Suzu’s attention. The one universal symbol of joy that no woman can ever turn away from.
Shoes.

Really? Buying shoes as a present?

“Pretty sure an international terrorist wouldn’t misspell ‘deliver.’”

Quite a high opinion of terrorists he has there...

So - why did Suzu avoid him all week? Did she give a reason that I missed or will that be revealed in a future chapter?

Yep. Shoes.

Partly a combination of that awkward teenage after-sex feeling teens have (remember Hanako and Hisao?) and another reason that will, yes, be addressed later.

Thanks for reading Mirage.

[Total Destruction]

Suddenly, enlightenment hits me in the form of a faraway neon sign. The one thing that’ll get Suzu’s attention. The one universal symbol of joy that no woman can ever turn away from.
Shoes.

Really? Buying shoes as a present?

I thought the same thing initially, but my head decided to interject those stupid "I'mma give that bitch X, bitches love X" memes in my head and made the whole thing humorous.

A good chapter regardless. I'm probably really gay, because I thought about a ferret named Banana and audibly squealed in glee. The fuck wrong wit me.