Phoenix (Hanako Bad End one-shot)
Posted: Mon Jun 18, 2012 9:00 pm
Hi guys,
I was almost finished with this when I came across Robnonymous' epic Reconciliation thread. I was tempted to scrap my story for fear of seeming derivative, but thought I'd just put the finishing touches on it and throw it up anyway.
Feedback greatly appreciated.
Phoenix
I can feel the tears drying on my cheeks when I wake. I must have slept last night. I usually don’t, on my birthday.
I feel an instant surge of relief that that day is over, tinged with a little disappointment when I realise that I will never be further away from my next birthday than I am right now. Then I remember last night, and open my eyes.
Hisao. Come to fix me, to protect me, to put me back together so that I could be like all the normal girls he likes so much. He thought that I was too weak to be left alone, and that I couldn’t possibly look after myself. The worst part is that he was right.
This thought sends the anger surging back though my veins. A little calmer this time, more controlled. It’s a torrent, not a tsunami. Not like last night.
Despite myself, I give a little grin at the memory. For the first time in a very, very long time, last night I stopped being “poor Hanako”. Hanako the freak. Hanako the victim. I finally stood up for myself, the way I always promised myself I would, night after night, while I lay on my bunk in the orphanage.
Perhaps I should feel ashamed. After all, showing anger isn’t healthy. Or is it suppressing anger that isn’t healthy? I’m not sure. Even the therapists can’t seem to agree on that. Still, remembering the rush of… was it adrenaline?...that I felt when I finally showed Hisao the secret me, the real me, the me that had lain buried for so long that even I had thought she had died in the fire, brings a flush to my cheeks.
I got one thing wrong, though. When Hisao came to my room and started trying to convince me to go for a walk with him, I knew what he was doing. A brave white knight, come to rescue his damsel in distress. He never wanted me as a girlfriend. All he wanted was to protect me, like he told me in the jazz club. I suppose, that way, he could allow himself to feel strong again. I could have lived with that.
But Lilly…
She should have known. She should have told him to leave me alone, on my special day. I could have handled it otherwise. If it had just been Hisao, I would have put on my “brave little Hanako” face and broken out the chess pieces for him. But when he told me he’d just spoken to Lilly… If she didn’t actually suggest that he call over, she certainly didn’t try to stop him when he suggested it. I really, really thought she understood me better. Stupid.
No. No, I’m not stupid. I pick things up. Being in the background only means you have a better view of the main players. I’ve seen how Lilly turns her head when Hisao approaches, how she identifies his footsteps. I can even hear her breaths become a fraction heavier and last a moment longer in his presence. No wonder she wanted him to call over. She wanted him to want to protect me, to never be able to see me as anything other than the poor little burnt girl. She saw me as a rival.
Really? Lilly saw me as a rival?! Twenty-four hours ago, I would never have believed it. The tall, blonde, perfect class rep was afraid that Hisao might come to see poor little Crispy-chan as a real woman, and was prepared to interfere from half a world away to make sure it didn’t happen? The more I think about it, the more I realise that it’s the only explanation that makes any sense. She’ll deny it, of course. She didn’t consider that Hisao might mention her phone call. Of course, Hisao didn’t see anything wrong with telling me about it. Why would he? He never thought of me that way. Lilly never had any reason to worry.
Still, in a roundabout way, Lilly’s actions are the best compliment I’ve been paid in years. If a girl like her can see poor broken Hanako as a threat to her love life, maybe I’m not so broken after all.
My body realises I’ve made up my mind before my brain even notices the debate. I swing my legs to the floor and stand upright. 8.15. Better get to class.
______________
I’m one of the first in the door. I take my place at my desk while the others filter in, one or two of them giving me strange looks which I meet eye-to-eye. They all blink first.
Hisao wanders in distractedly about two minutes before class is due to start. He glances at me, stops for a moment, then checks himself and sits down. Clearly, he didn’t think I’d have the strength to come to class today.
Unfortunately, it’s Mutou first. I hate Science. Writers don’t need to know about quarks. Except maybe Joyce. Still, after he gives me a look just a fraction of a second too long to be casual, he starts writing yet more equations on the board. I take them down as best I can, letting my gaze wander freely around the classroom for the first time in months.
I spot Naomi beside me. She’s one of the better ones. She even tried to talk to me a few times when she transferred here last year, and her friendliness didn’t seem too phony. Since I have no friends left now, maybe I might be able to make some new ones. They might even be real this time.
As class comes slowly to an end, rather than make my usual dash for the door, I turn hesitantly towards her. My throat is dry and I realise I haven’t spoken yet today.
“N…naomi?”
She turns to me, bewilderment and apprehension battling for control of her facial muscles.
“Hanako? Are you okay?”
“Yes, th…thank you. I was just w…wondering…the newspaper club? Are you still running it?”
“Well, technically I’m the editor, so, yeah, I suppose I am running it. Why do you ask? Are you sure you’re alright?”
Patience, Hanako. Take a breath. Ten years of therapy can’t all have been for nothing. Old Hanako wants to turn away, to flee, to run to the library and hide rather than take this step. But New Hanako won’t let her.
I won’t let her.
Slowly, hesitantly, almost gritting my teeth to keep my mouth from slamming shut, I hear the words take shape and the question emerge, gradually, finally, entering the world in full and perfect bloom.
“C…c…can I join?”
I was almost finished with this when I came across Robnonymous' epic Reconciliation thread. I was tempted to scrap my story for fear of seeming derivative, but thought I'd just put the finishing touches on it and throw it up anyway.
Feedback greatly appreciated.
Phoenix
I can feel the tears drying on my cheeks when I wake. I must have slept last night. I usually don’t, on my birthday.
I feel an instant surge of relief that that day is over, tinged with a little disappointment when I realise that I will never be further away from my next birthday than I am right now. Then I remember last night, and open my eyes.
Hisao. Come to fix me, to protect me, to put me back together so that I could be like all the normal girls he likes so much. He thought that I was too weak to be left alone, and that I couldn’t possibly look after myself. The worst part is that he was right.
This thought sends the anger surging back though my veins. A little calmer this time, more controlled. It’s a torrent, not a tsunami. Not like last night.
Despite myself, I give a little grin at the memory. For the first time in a very, very long time, last night I stopped being “poor Hanako”. Hanako the freak. Hanako the victim. I finally stood up for myself, the way I always promised myself I would, night after night, while I lay on my bunk in the orphanage.
Perhaps I should feel ashamed. After all, showing anger isn’t healthy. Or is it suppressing anger that isn’t healthy? I’m not sure. Even the therapists can’t seem to agree on that. Still, remembering the rush of… was it adrenaline?...that I felt when I finally showed Hisao the secret me, the real me, the me that had lain buried for so long that even I had thought she had died in the fire, brings a flush to my cheeks.
I got one thing wrong, though. When Hisao came to my room and started trying to convince me to go for a walk with him, I knew what he was doing. A brave white knight, come to rescue his damsel in distress. He never wanted me as a girlfriend. All he wanted was to protect me, like he told me in the jazz club. I suppose, that way, he could allow himself to feel strong again. I could have lived with that.
But Lilly…
She should have known. She should have told him to leave me alone, on my special day. I could have handled it otherwise. If it had just been Hisao, I would have put on my “brave little Hanako” face and broken out the chess pieces for him. But when he told me he’d just spoken to Lilly… If she didn’t actually suggest that he call over, she certainly didn’t try to stop him when he suggested it. I really, really thought she understood me better. Stupid.
No. No, I’m not stupid. I pick things up. Being in the background only means you have a better view of the main players. I’ve seen how Lilly turns her head when Hisao approaches, how she identifies his footsteps. I can even hear her breaths become a fraction heavier and last a moment longer in his presence. No wonder she wanted him to call over. She wanted him to want to protect me, to never be able to see me as anything other than the poor little burnt girl. She saw me as a rival.
Really? Lilly saw me as a rival?! Twenty-four hours ago, I would never have believed it. The tall, blonde, perfect class rep was afraid that Hisao might come to see poor little Crispy-chan as a real woman, and was prepared to interfere from half a world away to make sure it didn’t happen? The more I think about it, the more I realise that it’s the only explanation that makes any sense. She’ll deny it, of course. She didn’t consider that Hisao might mention her phone call. Of course, Hisao didn’t see anything wrong with telling me about it. Why would he? He never thought of me that way. Lilly never had any reason to worry.
Still, in a roundabout way, Lilly’s actions are the best compliment I’ve been paid in years. If a girl like her can see poor broken Hanako as a threat to her love life, maybe I’m not so broken after all.
My body realises I’ve made up my mind before my brain even notices the debate. I swing my legs to the floor and stand upright. 8.15. Better get to class.
______________
I’m one of the first in the door. I take my place at my desk while the others filter in, one or two of them giving me strange looks which I meet eye-to-eye. They all blink first.
Hisao wanders in distractedly about two minutes before class is due to start. He glances at me, stops for a moment, then checks himself and sits down. Clearly, he didn’t think I’d have the strength to come to class today.
Unfortunately, it’s Mutou first. I hate Science. Writers don’t need to know about quarks. Except maybe Joyce. Still, after he gives me a look just a fraction of a second too long to be casual, he starts writing yet more equations on the board. I take them down as best I can, letting my gaze wander freely around the classroom for the first time in months.
I spot Naomi beside me. She’s one of the better ones. She even tried to talk to me a few times when she transferred here last year, and her friendliness didn’t seem too phony. Since I have no friends left now, maybe I might be able to make some new ones. They might even be real this time.
As class comes slowly to an end, rather than make my usual dash for the door, I turn hesitantly towards her. My throat is dry and I realise I haven’t spoken yet today.
“N…naomi?”
She turns to me, bewilderment and apprehension battling for control of her facial muscles.
“Hanako? Are you okay?”
“Yes, th…thank you. I was just w…wondering…the newspaper club? Are you still running it?”
“Well, technically I’m the editor, so, yeah, I suppose I am running it. Why do you ask? Are you sure you’re alright?”
Patience, Hanako. Take a breath. Ten years of therapy can’t all have been for nothing. Old Hanako wants to turn away, to flee, to run to the library and hide rather than take this step. But New Hanako won’t let her.
I won’t let her.
Slowly, hesitantly, almost gritting my teeth to keep my mouth from slamming shut, I hear the words take shape and the question emerge, gradually, finally, entering the world in full and perfect bloom.
“C…c…can I join?”
