Hanako's (Not so) Epic Quest
Posted: Mon Aug 25, 2014 3:50 pm
Today is the day.
I repeat it out loud, but I still don't feel any more confident than I did before.
This is something I've been thinking about for a while now. It's almost a daydream really, except it's far from a happy one. In fact, every time I consider it I start to get these knots in my throat and butterflies in my stomach. If I think too long, my hands start to shake.
But today, I'm actually going to do it.
I've been planning this for the last week. Actually planning it, not just thinking about it. At my last appointment, my psychiatrist told me that he wouldn't be available to see me this week. I didn't tell anyone else. As far as they know, I'm going to be going about my routine as usual. Nobody will be looking for me.
Everything feels perfect. It's hot outside. The kind of hot where all anybody wants to do is seek shelter in the air conditioning. Everyone will be in a hurry, so little attention will be paid to me, thankfully. This is going to be hard enough without catching people's attention.
I pull something out of the depths of my closet that I've thought about throwing out time and time again. Nobody at school has ever seen me wear it. I've never even worn anything like it before, so at a glance, there's a fragment of a chance they might not recognize me from a distance.
That familiar feeling comes back into my stomach. What I'm about to do makes me want to throw up, but I told myself I can do this. I have to do this.
I pocket my written schedule and put on a borrowed wristwatch. It's not like I'm going to need the schedule, I've committed the entire thing to memory. It's just that having it is a tangible reminded of what I've got to do. Finally, I grab a small bag I've packed for a worse case scenario. If I'm not strong enough, I'm going to need it. It will be hours until I return here.
The first step is to make it to the bus stop and off school grounds as quickly as possible. I've got ten minutes before the bus arrives, which is more than enough time.
Despite going out like this, there's something somewhat reassuring about the school grounds. I know the area, how long it takes to get to any point, the buildings you can duck behind, the paths that people don't use often, and the areas where the trees provide the most shade.
I take the less-used paths. My mission hasn't officially started yet no matter how uncomfortable I already am. That means I can still afford my more craven habits. Thankfully, I don't run into anyone who knows me that might hold me up. I take a seat at the bench waiting for the bus I debate with myself where I should sit. Normally, if given the choice, I sit in the middle of the bus, with my blemished side against the window. I can't do that this time.
If I sit in the back, I'll have to pass everyone twice. Once as I take my seat and again as I exit. On the other hand, sitting in the front means everyone who enters will pass by me. Either way means double exposure. As the bus approaches, I've decided the front seat will work best. Everyone may see me, but it will be involuntarily. I won't have to force myself to walk past everyone.
The bus arrives at the city fairly quickly. It's not early, but it's not yet the part of the day where people are crowding the sidewalks yet. There's some foot traffic, but it hasn't gotten to the part where it's a lot yet.
I cringe as the bus pulls away. It'll be hours until I can get another ride back to school. I stand there for a moment, which I had expected to do, and think. Actually, I stand there for a minute and worry. Countless things could go wrong. Actually, just the fact that I'm standing here is something that's already wrong. I unzip the bag I have with me and feel the thick fabric inside. It's comforting and at the same time a symbol of everything I'm trying to work past.
Then I zip the bag back, grit my teeth, and walk on. I can do this. I'm not strong, but one doesn't have to be strong to walk down the street. One just has to walk.
One step in front of another. Keep looking at the ground. Don't make eye contact. Walk fast. Don't run. Running catches people's attention. Being seen is okay. There's nothing I can do to avoid being seen, but I need to minimize the amount of attention I grab.
My first stop is just a little ways up the street, a small bookstore. Like all my stops today, I've scouted it out on a previous trip, taking care to pick locations that were public, but for the most part not likely to be crowded or busy. I've also timed myself to see how long it takes to get from one to another, estimated time spent there, and then went over the bus schedule to determine what the best plan of action would be. I needed at least three locations where I'd be forced to interact with people. I'm not sure why I decided on three, but it sounded right in my head.
It takes an eternity to reach the store. An employee greets me as I enter and I mumble a reply. Then I immediately head to the back corner of the store. It's not important that I find anything I'm interested in. Just that I am here and I buy something.
I look at the watch on my wrist.
I have twenty five minutes before I need to leave. Normally twenty five minutes in a book store would pass in a flash, but not today. Not being exposed like I am.
Twenty five minutes of being here. Vulnerable. I know I'm suspicious looking right now. All eyes are most likely on me. I just want to shrink away and disappear, but my quest has barely even started.
When an employee comes up and asks if I need help, I nearly jump out of my skin. Then she actually sees what I look like and visibly backs away giving me a look filled with pity.
I end up leaving two minutes ahead of schedule after having bought used paperback copies of The Sorrows of Young Werther and Young Goodman Brown. I've never read either of them. I only picked them out because I needed to buy something and the covers looked nice. As I checked out, I managed to say “Nice day isn't it?” to the cashier and nearly looked at her face. That was the intention anyway. I stuttered horribly to the point where I'm not entirely sure the words I spoke where even comprehensible.
She responded with a typical rehearsed cashier greeting, asking me if I found everything and if I wanted to join their benefits program. I had already spoken as much as I cared to and just shook my head no, grabbing at my change and rushing into the streets again with my purchase.
The streets don't provide much comfort either. The heat of the sun and the slight breeze feel unfamiliar and unwelcome against my skin.
Stop number two is just a little bit further up. It's a used clothing store. Again, I'm going to have to buy something, interact with people. I add the small books to my bag and continue on my way.
Head down. Look at no one. I hold my arms stiff at my sides as I walk to prevent myself from involuntarily grabbing one arm with the other.
I'm in public. I'm being seen. My mission is successful so far. No need to draw more attention to myself.
I enter the next store carefully. The chime of a bell announces my presence. I don't see any employees or other customers, causing me to audibly sigh in relief. From the back room, I can hear a man's voice telling me that he'll be out in a minute and that I should call him if I need any assistance. I tell him I should be okay, tripping over my words a few times in the process.
Inside, the racks of clothing are stuffed almost to over flowing. Even better, I appear to be the only customer in the store. This place is a bit easier but even with the thickly lined isles overflowing with older fashions, I still feel exposed. The man in back tells me two or three times that he'll be out in a minute, but I'm not in any real hurry. I tell him not to worry and lose myself in the aisles.
Most of the clothing I've ever owned has been used or hand-me-downs, but even so, it's hard to shake the idea of wanting to look fashionable. Not too fashionable though, not enough to really stand out, just enough to accent my better qualities and hide my more outstanding ones. While I'm still looking over my shoulder every time I hear the storekeeper moving around, shopping here is almost close to relaxing. I try on a nice light blue long-sleeved blouse and a thin jacket, but stop trying things on after those two items. It feels like that would be defeating the point of the trip. Still, I manage to pick out two nice blouses for a ridiculously low price before my schedule tells me it's time to move on.
Looking at the watch as I leave, I find I'm ten minutes past schedule. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. One one hand it means that things are going easier than I had expected. On the other hand, it cuts into the time I had scheduled for my recovery.
Back on the streets, I can feel the heat of the sun beating down on me. It feels unnatural. Or maybe the problem is that I've just forgotten what natural feels like. I can't even remember what it's like to walk down the streets without people turning to stare at me. Today it's even worse. I shouldn't be here, I tell myself. I shouldn't be doing this. Everyone I pass by knows it and as the day stretches on minute by minute, the street becomes more crowded.
By the time I've reached my next stop I feel like I'm going to throw up. It's not one of my official stops. It's just a public restroom set aside for the shopping plaza's use, but it's a place I close a door between me and the rest of the world. I'm practically hyperventilating as I reach it. The thought of having a panic attack and being helpless here in the open makes it even worse.
I spend ten minutes in the restroom just recovering and trying to come to my senses again. After I leave, I circle around the small building and immediately go back in it for another three minutes. I'm still within my time-limit, but only just barely.
There's only one more stop to make. Book store, clothes store, restroom (which doesn't count, as that's my break), now for the worst of all, the food court. This is where the trial really is. It's an open-air court, the kind of place that has tables with little umbrellas covering them and not much else for way of shelter. I'm going to be completely exposed here. I grip my bag tightly, knowing that security is just inside, but that makes me feel worse. I don't want to need it. I know I'm not strong or confident or anything like that, but I want to be able to do this one thing this one time without needing help.
Somehow I manage to make my way to one of the various carts set up in the area and mumble my request. I pay with shaking hands and find a seat. I have to stay here for ten minutes.
The plan required me to interact with a person again, so I bought … some kind of snack food in a small foil bag. I'm unsure if the tastelessness of it comes from the food itself, or from my nervousness. Accompanying it is a small cup of juice. At least that’s what I asked for. The taste of it doesn't seem familiar, but putting the cup to my lips and taking sips from it gives me something to do as I pass the time and watch the crowd walk by.
In the first two minutes, I check the borrowed watch eight times. I keep waiting for something to happen, somebody to show up, any excuse to get away, but there's nothing. The only place I have to be is right here right now. The only excuse I'd have is that I'm simply not able to take it anymore.
I want to cry. I want to be anywhere but here, but I decided I had to do this and I'm going to finish it. Only seven more minutes according to schedule.
… Well, who's going to know anyway. I can cheat just this once.
I rush back down the street and hide in the bathrooms again. It's hot in here and it smells bad, but there's nobody watching. I hadn't even realized how much I was shaking until now.
But I've almost done it.
I'm almost there.
The hard part is all over with. I look down at my bag again. I could end the worst of this right now. I set off to do what I had to do already, didn't I?
No. I guess I didn't. Getting back is part of the plan as well and I have to get going now. If I miss the bus back to Yamaku, it’ll be hours before the next one. In the meantime I'll be stuck here. I really don't think I could do that.
That thought alone is enough to get me moving. It's like I have to force my legs to walk back out there, but at the same time, my body feels like it's screaming to just go faster. Run. Get this over with. Running isn't going to help though. If I get there too fast, I'll just have to wait at the bus stop, so I control myself.
Head down. Walk swiftly. Don't run. Don't draw attention to yourself anymore than you have to.
I keep repeating the thoughts in my head.
I'm not sure how much that helps.
An eternity later I'm back on the bus. By this point, I'm shaking, sweating, and my teeth are chattering.
Another eternity later and I'm getting back off the bus.
And I've WON! I did it! Once I make it back to my room, my trip is officially over and I can consider this whole thing a success.
As soon as the bus lets me off, I run for my room, full speed, not caring who sees me or who gets in my way. I just want to get back into my room, wrap every single blanket I have around me like a cocoon, lock the door, and not leave the room for the rest of the day, not even to eat. I ate something earlier. I'm sure I can afford to miss a few meals after that.
I almost knock somebody over on the dash back, I turn to see who it was because I'm going to have to try to apologize to them later, but I didn't get a good enough look to tell and I don't want to stop now. I race into the building, up the stairs and down the hall towards my safety.
I know anybody who sees me is going to stare. They're going to talk about how Ikezawa is being a strange little freak again, but right now, I just don't care.
Then I see two familiar figures I the hall, just feet away from my sanctuary.
“Hey, Hanako” Hisao says, raising his arm in greeting.
“Hanako?” Lilly stops sounding surprised. “Is something wrong, you sound like you were in a hurry and you're breathing heavily.”
“I was just-- I was.. o-out doing... doing,” I feel horrible now. I can't even bring myself to talk.
There's a look of surprise on Hisao's face, then it gives way to a smile. He knows. He doesn't say anything though. The smile tells me everything he means, but he won't put it in words. Saying it would just feel like an insult. He won't compliment me on doing something so small, something that ordinary people can do every day.
“Regardless, Hisao had just stopped by. He needed to pick up a few things in town and wanted to know if either of us were interested in accompanying him. I told him you were out but...” Lilly says.
“S-sure. Just give me-- give me a few minutes,” I say. I slip past them and into my own room. I want to stay here. I really do, but I suppose the world outside beckons.
I quickly change from the outfit I was wearing into a different pair of pants that matches the new blouse I bought.
The clothes may be new to me, but the feeling of the cloth as it slips over my arms is a refreshing one.
Well...
I did it.
I never want to do it again, but I did it.
I made it to the city and back again and interacted with people ...
… all in a short-sleeve t-shirt.
I repeat it out loud, but I still don't feel any more confident than I did before.
This is something I've been thinking about for a while now. It's almost a daydream really, except it's far from a happy one. In fact, every time I consider it I start to get these knots in my throat and butterflies in my stomach. If I think too long, my hands start to shake.
But today, I'm actually going to do it.
I've been planning this for the last week. Actually planning it, not just thinking about it. At my last appointment, my psychiatrist told me that he wouldn't be available to see me this week. I didn't tell anyone else. As far as they know, I'm going to be going about my routine as usual. Nobody will be looking for me.
Everything feels perfect. It's hot outside. The kind of hot where all anybody wants to do is seek shelter in the air conditioning. Everyone will be in a hurry, so little attention will be paid to me, thankfully. This is going to be hard enough without catching people's attention.
I pull something out of the depths of my closet that I've thought about throwing out time and time again. Nobody at school has ever seen me wear it. I've never even worn anything like it before, so at a glance, there's a fragment of a chance they might not recognize me from a distance.
That familiar feeling comes back into my stomach. What I'm about to do makes me want to throw up, but I told myself I can do this. I have to do this.
I pocket my written schedule and put on a borrowed wristwatch. It's not like I'm going to need the schedule, I've committed the entire thing to memory. It's just that having it is a tangible reminded of what I've got to do. Finally, I grab a small bag I've packed for a worse case scenario. If I'm not strong enough, I'm going to need it. It will be hours until I return here.
The first step is to make it to the bus stop and off school grounds as quickly as possible. I've got ten minutes before the bus arrives, which is more than enough time.
Despite going out like this, there's something somewhat reassuring about the school grounds. I know the area, how long it takes to get to any point, the buildings you can duck behind, the paths that people don't use often, and the areas where the trees provide the most shade.
I take the less-used paths. My mission hasn't officially started yet no matter how uncomfortable I already am. That means I can still afford my more craven habits. Thankfully, I don't run into anyone who knows me that might hold me up. I take a seat at the bench waiting for the bus I debate with myself where I should sit. Normally, if given the choice, I sit in the middle of the bus, with my blemished side against the window. I can't do that this time.
If I sit in the back, I'll have to pass everyone twice. Once as I take my seat and again as I exit. On the other hand, sitting in the front means everyone who enters will pass by me. Either way means double exposure. As the bus approaches, I've decided the front seat will work best. Everyone may see me, but it will be involuntarily. I won't have to force myself to walk past everyone.
The bus arrives at the city fairly quickly. It's not early, but it's not yet the part of the day where people are crowding the sidewalks yet. There's some foot traffic, but it hasn't gotten to the part where it's a lot yet.
I cringe as the bus pulls away. It'll be hours until I can get another ride back to school. I stand there for a moment, which I had expected to do, and think. Actually, I stand there for a minute and worry. Countless things could go wrong. Actually, just the fact that I'm standing here is something that's already wrong. I unzip the bag I have with me and feel the thick fabric inside. It's comforting and at the same time a symbol of everything I'm trying to work past.
Then I zip the bag back, grit my teeth, and walk on. I can do this. I'm not strong, but one doesn't have to be strong to walk down the street. One just has to walk.
One step in front of another. Keep looking at the ground. Don't make eye contact. Walk fast. Don't run. Running catches people's attention. Being seen is okay. There's nothing I can do to avoid being seen, but I need to minimize the amount of attention I grab.
My first stop is just a little ways up the street, a small bookstore. Like all my stops today, I've scouted it out on a previous trip, taking care to pick locations that were public, but for the most part not likely to be crowded or busy. I've also timed myself to see how long it takes to get from one to another, estimated time spent there, and then went over the bus schedule to determine what the best plan of action would be. I needed at least three locations where I'd be forced to interact with people. I'm not sure why I decided on three, but it sounded right in my head.
It takes an eternity to reach the store. An employee greets me as I enter and I mumble a reply. Then I immediately head to the back corner of the store. It's not important that I find anything I'm interested in. Just that I am here and I buy something.
I look at the watch on my wrist.
I have twenty five minutes before I need to leave. Normally twenty five minutes in a book store would pass in a flash, but not today. Not being exposed like I am.
Twenty five minutes of being here. Vulnerable. I know I'm suspicious looking right now. All eyes are most likely on me. I just want to shrink away and disappear, but my quest has barely even started.
When an employee comes up and asks if I need help, I nearly jump out of my skin. Then she actually sees what I look like and visibly backs away giving me a look filled with pity.
I end up leaving two minutes ahead of schedule after having bought used paperback copies of The Sorrows of Young Werther and Young Goodman Brown. I've never read either of them. I only picked them out because I needed to buy something and the covers looked nice. As I checked out, I managed to say “Nice day isn't it?” to the cashier and nearly looked at her face. That was the intention anyway. I stuttered horribly to the point where I'm not entirely sure the words I spoke where even comprehensible.
She responded with a typical rehearsed cashier greeting, asking me if I found everything and if I wanted to join their benefits program. I had already spoken as much as I cared to and just shook my head no, grabbing at my change and rushing into the streets again with my purchase.
The streets don't provide much comfort either. The heat of the sun and the slight breeze feel unfamiliar and unwelcome against my skin.
Stop number two is just a little bit further up. It's a used clothing store. Again, I'm going to have to buy something, interact with people. I add the small books to my bag and continue on my way.
Head down. Look at no one. I hold my arms stiff at my sides as I walk to prevent myself from involuntarily grabbing one arm with the other.
I'm in public. I'm being seen. My mission is successful so far. No need to draw more attention to myself.
I enter the next store carefully. The chime of a bell announces my presence. I don't see any employees or other customers, causing me to audibly sigh in relief. From the back room, I can hear a man's voice telling me that he'll be out in a minute and that I should call him if I need any assistance. I tell him I should be okay, tripping over my words a few times in the process.
Inside, the racks of clothing are stuffed almost to over flowing. Even better, I appear to be the only customer in the store. This place is a bit easier but even with the thickly lined isles overflowing with older fashions, I still feel exposed. The man in back tells me two or three times that he'll be out in a minute, but I'm not in any real hurry. I tell him not to worry and lose myself in the aisles.
Most of the clothing I've ever owned has been used or hand-me-downs, but even so, it's hard to shake the idea of wanting to look fashionable. Not too fashionable though, not enough to really stand out, just enough to accent my better qualities and hide my more outstanding ones. While I'm still looking over my shoulder every time I hear the storekeeper moving around, shopping here is almost close to relaxing. I try on a nice light blue long-sleeved blouse and a thin jacket, but stop trying things on after those two items. It feels like that would be defeating the point of the trip. Still, I manage to pick out two nice blouses for a ridiculously low price before my schedule tells me it's time to move on.
Looking at the watch as I leave, I find I'm ten minutes past schedule. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. One one hand it means that things are going easier than I had expected. On the other hand, it cuts into the time I had scheduled for my recovery.
Back on the streets, I can feel the heat of the sun beating down on me. It feels unnatural. Or maybe the problem is that I've just forgotten what natural feels like. I can't even remember what it's like to walk down the streets without people turning to stare at me. Today it's even worse. I shouldn't be here, I tell myself. I shouldn't be doing this. Everyone I pass by knows it and as the day stretches on minute by minute, the street becomes more crowded.
By the time I've reached my next stop I feel like I'm going to throw up. It's not one of my official stops. It's just a public restroom set aside for the shopping plaza's use, but it's a place I close a door between me and the rest of the world. I'm practically hyperventilating as I reach it. The thought of having a panic attack and being helpless here in the open makes it even worse.
I spend ten minutes in the restroom just recovering and trying to come to my senses again. After I leave, I circle around the small building and immediately go back in it for another three minutes. I'm still within my time-limit, but only just barely.
There's only one more stop to make. Book store, clothes store, restroom (which doesn't count, as that's my break), now for the worst of all, the food court. This is where the trial really is. It's an open-air court, the kind of place that has tables with little umbrellas covering them and not much else for way of shelter. I'm going to be completely exposed here. I grip my bag tightly, knowing that security is just inside, but that makes me feel worse. I don't want to need it. I know I'm not strong or confident or anything like that, but I want to be able to do this one thing this one time without needing help.
Somehow I manage to make my way to one of the various carts set up in the area and mumble my request. I pay with shaking hands and find a seat. I have to stay here for ten minutes.
The plan required me to interact with a person again, so I bought … some kind of snack food in a small foil bag. I'm unsure if the tastelessness of it comes from the food itself, or from my nervousness. Accompanying it is a small cup of juice. At least that’s what I asked for. The taste of it doesn't seem familiar, but putting the cup to my lips and taking sips from it gives me something to do as I pass the time and watch the crowd walk by.
In the first two minutes, I check the borrowed watch eight times. I keep waiting for something to happen, somebody to show up, any excuse to get away, but there's nothing. The only place I have to be is right here right now. The only excuse I'd have is that I'm simply not able to take it anymore.
I want to cry. I want to be anywhere but here, but I decided I had to do this and I'm going to finish it. Only seven more minutes according to schedule.
… Well, who's going to know anyway. I can cheat just this once.
I rush back down the street and hide in the bathrooms again. It's hot in here and it smells bad, but there's nobody watching. I hadn't even realized how much I was shaking until now.
But I've almost done it.
I'm almost there.
The hard part is all over with. I look down at my bag again. I could end the worst of this right now. I set off to do what I had to do already, didn't I?
No. I guess I didn't. Getting back is part of the plan as well and I have to get going now. If I miss the bus back to Yamaku, it’ll be hours before the next one. In the meantime I'll be stuck here. I really don't think I could do that.
That thought alone is enough to get me moving. It's like I have to force my legs to walk back out there, but at the same time, my body feels like it's screaming to just go faster. Run. Get this over with. Running isn't going to help though. If I get there too fast, I'll just have to wait at the bus stop, so I control myself.
Head down. Walk swiftly. Don't run. Don't draw attention to yourself anymore than you have to.
I keep repeating the thoughts in my head.
I'm not sure how much that helps.
An eternity later I'm back on the bus. By this point, I'm shaking, sweating, and my teeth are chattering.
Another eternity later and I'm getting back off the bus.
And I've WON! I did it! Once I make it back to my room, my trip is officially over and I can consider this whole thing a success.
As soon as the bus lets me off, I run for my room, full speed, not caring who sees me or who gets in my way. I just want to get back into my room, wrap every single blanket I have around me like a cocoon, lock the door, and not leave the room for the rest of the day, not even to eat. I ate something earlier. I'm sure I can afford to miss a few meals after that.
I almost knock somebody over on the dash back, I turn to see who it was because I'm going to have to try to apologize to them later, but I didn't get a good enough look to tell and I don't want to stop now. I race into the building, up the stairs and down the hall towards my safety.
I know anybody who sees me is going to stare. They're going to talk about how Ikezawa is being a strange little freak again, but right now, I just don't care.
Then I see two familiar figures I the hall, just feet away from my sanctuary.
“Hey, Hanako” Hisao says, raising his arm in greeting.
“Hanako?” Lilly stops sounding surprised. “Is something wrong, you sound like you were in a hurry and you're breathing heavily.”
“I was just-- I was.. o-out doing... doing,” I feel horrible now. I can't even bring myself to talk.
There's a look of surprise on Hisao's face, then it gives way to a smile. He knows. He doesn't say anything though. The smile tells me everything he means, but he won't put it in words. Saying it would just feel like an insult. He won't compliment me on doing something so small, something that ordinary people can do every day.
“Regardless, Hisao had just stopped by. He needed to pick up a few things in town and wanted to know if either of us were interested in accompanying him. I told him you were out but...” Lilly says.
“S-sure. Just give me-- give me a few minutes,” I say. I slip past them and into my own room. I want to stay here. I really do, but I suppose the world outside beckons.
I quickly change from the outfit I was wearing into a different pair of pants that matches the new blouse I bought.
The clothes may be new to me, but the feeling of the cloth as it slips over my arms is a refreshing one.
Well...
I did it.
I never want to do it again, but I did it.
I made it to the city and back again and interacted with people ...
… all in a short-sleeve t-shirt.
