A Birthday Wish (Saki/Rika) [Complete]

[Mirage_GSM]

Nothing much I can add to what already has been said.
This story is fun despite the sometimes somber - or even morbid - themes.

It seems Hisao had his heart attack earlier in this alt-universe - not that it matters; it is an alt-universe ^_^

[bhtooefr]

Note that this is set in university, and this is set after the Kenji end.

[forgetmenot]

I have been so entertained, so amused! I laughed through the manly denouement part, sad to say. I couldn't help think of alternate universes, Rika, and a bar. And Hachisame's. And all that stuff. I feel intoxicated despite not having drunk a drop for about 20 hours. Wonderful! And also poignant. I was really made to wonder about what the future might hold for them in this world. Thanks!

Thank you! I'm really happy that you feel the way that you do. It's really satisfying as an author when you accomplish exactly what you set out to do, and comments like these go a long way in validating that department.

Really enjoyed this chapter. I liked the conversation where Saki is trying to find a guy that Rika likes. Not too much else I can think of to say I didn't say after the first chapter, so good work so far.

Rika's choosiness seems to resonate with the description that Aura gave in the April Fools' day post, which is why I went for it. I thought having her be attracted (at least somewhat) to Hisao would show that she wasn't completely asexual, just picky.

That was fun. I don't say that about too many stories around here, but that was pretty much pure fun. Thanks .

Nothing much I can add to what already has been said.
This story is fun despite the sometimes somber - or even morbid - themes.

It seems Hisao had his heart attack earlier in this alt-universe - not that it matters; it is an alt-universe ^_^

Yep, yep! I'm glad that it's fun to read. It's fun to write as well.

Also, to clarify, yes this is set in university (although I left where intentionally vague). Rika has just turned 20, and Saki is 21. I modified the events of the original VN so that Hisao meets Rika after he "goes for it" on the track with Emi, and then again while building stalls for the festival. However, the Kenji end was left intact. I imagined some sort of choice dialog to come up during the stall-building conversation with Rika that would cause Hisao to stand her up (perhaps sleep in?). It was all very loosely thought out in my head, to be honest.

Also, I had originally planned to have Saki admit to meeting Hisao as well, as part of a universe where Rika and Saki were also legitimate girls he could go after. However, I couldn't find a way to fit it into their conversation, and even if I had, I think it would have cheapened Rika's feelings somewhat, which I didn't want.

Thanks for reading, everyone! Part 3, which will wrap everything up, is coming soon!

[hyroglyphixs]

Everything that I want to say has already been said, so I'll just say that I loved the newest update and I can't wait for more

You can never have enough Saki and Rika..

[Leaty]

This is absolutely fantastic. Other than Iwanako (yes, even in canon,) Saki and Rika are my favorite characters (which should come as no surprise if you know me—Mana Kirishima and Chigusa Sanjouin are my favorite characters in Evangelion and Utena respectively, and neither of them are actually in those shows,) and you wrote them unbelievably well. Your talent for banter (you write some of the very best in the community) suited this fic phenomenally well, and I really got emotionally invested in Saki and Rika’s friendship.

I can’t help but get the notion that Saki is on some level (maybe even unconsciously) making an effort to ensure that Rika will be ‘okay’ once Saki’s gone, which has to be on her mind now that she can’t stand up anymore. Rika’s a very introverted person, and without her best friend in her life it’s hard to imagine her struggling to deal with the future.

Also, the reference to themocaw’s Saki was kind of hilarious.

[forgetmenot]

Last installment! Sorry it took so long. Hope you enjoy!

Part 3:

I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep when a loud sound from the hallway jolts me into consciousness. I sit upright in my bed; it’s something I’d marvel at in any other situation – my muscles don’t really allow that sort of thing freely anymore – but, as it were, I’m alert and awake, keen to define the sound that brought me so abruptly out of my slumber.

I suppose I should be cautious. After all, I’m practically a paraplegic, and in pajamas, no less. I doubt a small-framed girl in shorts and a tank top crawling her way out of her bedroom while waving a field hockey stick would seem very intimidating to an intruder. I glance over at said makeshift wooden weapon; I’m not sure why I even keep that thing around. I doubt I could injure a cockroach with the amount of force I’d be able to put behind it these days.

However, I’m simultaneously relieved and concerned at the next sound that comes from outside my door: it’s the sound of retching, the sort that comes after a long night of drinking, or perhaps a nasty bout of food poisoning. We’ve had both in this house.

“Rika!” I call out from my still-seated position. “Are you okay?”

A moment passes, during which I hear a sound that sounds vaguely like someone spitting into a toilet bowl. “I-I’m fine,” she responds. “Sorry for the nois-uuuurrrrppp-“

Well, one thing’s for certain. She’s obviously not fine.

I glance at my wheelchair, which is across the room, plugged into the wall. The thought of using it to get to Rika briefly crosses my mind… ah, screw it. If I can’t get to the bathroom without that thing then I really am useless.

Pulling myself out of bed is considerably easier than it’s been recently, and I start pushing myself across the carpet with relative ease. “I’m coming, Rika. Just hold on,” I yell through the door, hoping she can hear me over the sound of her vomiting.

“N-no, Saki! You don’t have to co-blaarrrgghhhhh-“ is all I receive in reply.

I roll my eyes as I reach for the doorknob. “Yes, Rika, I do. Who else is gonna hold your hair back? Besides, it’s my fault for suggesting Hachisame’s again.”

As I drag myself into the hallway, I receive no reply except for another bout of vomiting from the bathroom. I suppose if Rika can’t fully protest my presence, then she has no right to. I smile as I cross the threshold to the bathroom. I would have been a good lawyer in another life.

Rika’s beleaguered visage rests upon the toilet seat, facing me. “Saki, you didn’t h-have to come in here,” she states wearily.

“Stop arguing. How long have you been feeling ill?”

She opens her mouth to reply, but then turns to the commode, preparing for another bout of retching. She stays poised over the seat for a moment, but, fortunately, it doesn’t come just yet. She turns her head back to me. “N-not long. Just a few minutes. You probably heard the start of it.”

“Poor thing,” I state, running my left hand through what little I can of her hair. Thank god for that braid. Lord knows what mess those silver locks would have been in otherwise.

As if to answer, Rika turns once more and continues emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet, nearly dipping her braid into the foul amalgam of stomach acid and cheap fast food before I snatch it and place it neatly behind her head. I suppose the smell of Rika’s sick might bother me, but I’m still slightly tipsy from our earlier libations, and thus my senses are dulled somewhat. I suppose that explains the sudden burst of responsiveness from my muscles – I’ll probably pay for that in the morning.

After she finishes her current bout of expulsion, Rika once again rests her head on the toilet seat and faces me.

“H-how do I look?” she asks, managing a weak smile.

“Honestly? Like hell,” I respond, patting her head lightly.

Rika laughs and rolls her eyes. “I suppose that’s what I get for listening to you.”

I open my mouth to protest, but… dammit, she’s right. This whole thing was my idea. Even Hachisame’s. Crap. “Okay, fine, I suppose this is probably my fault on some level.”

Rika shakes her head weakly in reply. We sit in silence for a few moments, which allows me to take notice of her breathing – it’s faster than normal. Oh, gosh, I hope it’s not…

“Rika-chan? How’s your heart? Are you… you know?”

Rika rolls her eyes and almost spits. “Aw, hell. I’m not a china doll, Saki. I can take a little food and/or alcohol poisoning every once in a while.”

“I just wanted to make sure. That’s all.”

Rika sighs and blinks heavily. “I know. I’m sorry,” she says, placing one of her hands on my knee. “I suppose it still worries me too, sometimes. Even if it’s been almost three years.”

“Has it been? Sheesh, I guess you’re right,” I muse, remembering that particular night a few winters ago I spent by Rika’s bedside in the hospital. “I guess all that cardio they had you do really paid off.”

“It certainly seems that way, doesn’t it? Helpful in situations that involve stairs, or long walks, or puking your guts out.”

I let out a small laugh. “Darn. And here all I had to do was start running. Wish I figured that out before I got stuck in a wheelchair.”

Rika chuckles momentarily at this, but levels a serious gaze at me as she lifts her head from the porcelain seat. “Saki, don’t joke about that. It’s not…”

“Not what?” I ask playfully. “Not polite? If I see anyone else with a degenerative disorder, I’ll be sure to hold my tongue around them. You never know which ones are the prissy kind.”

This draws a more genuine laugh from my roommate. “Saki, I’m serious! Don’t do that.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare,” I continue. “Especially at those support group meetings that totally exist for all of the sufferers of ataxia in this part of Japan. There are dozens of us, I say! Dozens!”

“Stop, you’re going to make me hurl again,” Rika protests, wiping a small tear from her eye, still laughing.

“Sorry, sorry,” I apologize, holding my hands out in front of me. “Do you want some water?”

“I can get it myself,” Rika says, attempting to use the bathtub to hoist herself up.

I place a hand on her rising shoulder, pushing her back down into a seated position. “Sit down. I’ll get it for you. You stay there in case you feel sick again.” I can see she doesn’t want to let me do it, but she has to know I’m not going to back down on this.

As if to answer, she merely blows a loose wisp of silver hair out of her face and resigns herself against the front of the bathtub. Satisfied with her withdrawal from the debate, I shimmy over to the sink and grab one of the glasses resting near the edge of the counter. Finding the faucet takes some work, considering I’m reaching over the countertop blindly, but I eventually manage to flick it on and fill the glass halfway with water. That’s about when I start shaking too badly to keep any more inside. Stupid muscles. I guess that’ll have to do.

After fumbling a bit with getting the faucet off – soaking my hand in the process – I hand a grateful Rika the glass, which she quickly empties and hands back to me. I shake my head. “Jeez, Rika. Make it last at least a few minutes, at least.”

“Sorry,” she says. “And thanks, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.” I scoot back over towards the toilet and pat her knee gently. “Feeling any better?”

“A little bit. I think I’m going to remain in here for a little while longer, though. Feel free to head back to bed. I don’t want to keep you up.”

“Hah. As if I’d just leave you here, all disheveled and mopey. Who else is going to get you half-glasses of water and make fun of you? Somebody’s gotta do it.”

“Saki, I…”

“No, Rika,” I interrupt. “I’m staying.”

She sighs and licks her lips slowly, as if in thought. A moment passes where we don’t say anything. Then Rika inhales deeply. “You’re too nice to me.”

“Would it help if I called you a bitch again? Because I can do that.”

“Stop joking, Saki,” she says, almost admonishing me. “I’m serious. You do too much.”

I roll my eyes. She’s obviously still a little drunk. “No, I don’t. I do whatever I’m comfortable with doing, because you’re my friend and that’s what friends do.”

“It’s all you’ve been doing lately, though,” she says, biting her lip. “You keep going out of your way to do stuff for me, and I’m too much of a pushover to stop you. I could have gotten myself a glass of water, you and I both know that.”

I shrug in reply. “I was closer to the sink, and you’re sick. Sue me for trying to help.”

“You’re missing the point. It’s not just the water. It’s coming in here without your chair to take care of me. It’s the fact that you still do all our laundry even though it’s three floors down. You do the shopping, you take care of the bills, you try to cook,”

“Hey. I’m getting better at that. The chicken the other day was okay,” I retort.

Rika breaks a small smile. “Jury’s still out on that one. Anyhow, my point is that you take care of me. Even on top of your schoolwork.”

“To be fair,” I interject, “Business isn’t nearly as difficult of a major as engineering.”

“Saki, stop it!” Rika half-shouts. “I’m trying to tell you something important! Can you not kid around for five minutes, please?”

A terse silence fills the bathroom for a few moments. I honestly can’t think of anything to say. I wonder what’s got Rika all riled up like this? I just do my part, that’s all. Nothing special.

Finally, I relent. “Okay. Sorry for interrupting.”

“Thank you,” she replies, brushing the ever-widening wisp of unruly hair out of her face. “As I was saying. You do far too much around here. And… can I be frank?”

“I’ve never known you not to be,” I say, twisting my hands together. I don’t particularly like where this conversation is headed.

“You’re getting worse, Saki. It’s slow, but we both know it. I hate to be insensitive, but… at this point I think it’s a disservice to ourselves to tiptoe around the issue.”

“Hey. For the record, I like doing the things that I do around here. And I still do them just fine, so what exactly is the problem here?”

Rika sighs deeply. “I just worry that it’s getting to be too much for you. That… you’re just doing it out of obligation, or something. Just forget it.”

“Rika? It’s not too much for me, okay? I wouldn’t be doing it if it were. So what if things take a little extra effort? I can still get around. Even if they’re a little shaky, my hands and arms still work.”

She mumbles something incoherent in response.

“Pardon?” I ask, hoping she’ll repeat herself.

She looks up at me, ruby eyes shiny with tears. “I said, ‘And what about when they don’t?’” She punctuates her statement with a tiny sniffle.

Oh, Rika. You know I hate it when you cry. I place my hand back on her knee and rub it gently. “Hey, don’t be sad. That’s not something that we need to worry about right now.”

“I don’t want another roommate,” she sobs, hands pressed to her face. “Other people suck.”

“Aww, they’re not so bad, you big ol’ misanthrope,” I say, rubbing her knee a little more rapidly and interspersing a few pats here and there. “I’m sure we can find you a suitable Saki replacement somewhere.”

At this, Rika turns her head up and removes her hands. Her lip quivers, belying her placid expression for a second before she begins sobbing even harder than before, tears streaming freely down her face. Wow, Saki. Apparently you also suffer from foot-in-mouth disease. Add that to the list of ailments.

“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that,” I implore, shaking Rika’s leg slightly. “I’m not going anywhere for a long time.”

Rika’s only response comes in the form of a few whimpers. Before I know it, tears are forming at the edges of my eyes, and I begin crying as well. Damn it, Rika. Why do you always turn me into such a sap?

“Can we stop crying now?” I ask after a few moments. “You know I hate seeing you sad.”

Rika looks up from her hands and notices that I’m crying as well. She sniffles again, and reaches out, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “I’m sorry, Saki. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It’s all right.” I unroll a small bit of toilet paper and hand it to Rika, who gratefully accepts and blows her nose into it before depositing it into the toilet bowl.

We sit in silence for a few moments, both catching our breath. It’s Rika who first pipes up. “A-are you scared?”

I briefly ponder making another joke, but that doesn’t seem appropriate given the seriousness of the situation. I give a long sigh. “A little. Not as much as I used to be. When the symptoms first started showing… that was bad.”

“I d-don’t know how you do it,” she replies, hanging her head. “I can’t imagine how I’d even begin to deal with it.”

“You just sorta… do,” I say, biting my lip. “It’s not like I have a choice in the matter. It happens slowly, so you adjust. Just a little bit at a time. Not so bad.”

“You and I have different definitions of what’s bad.”

I feel a small grin come across my face. “Rika, you’re my best friend. And it sucks that I won’t be around forever, as much as I’d like to be. We just have to make sure that we make the absolute most of the time we do have, okay?”

She looks directly in my eyes, hers still damp with tears. “How are you so calm about this? You’re going to die.”

As much as she’s right, hearing her say the words still stings a little. “Yes, Rika. Eventually I’m going to die,” I say, barely whispering at this point. “Just like Nakai died, and just like you’re going to die, and just like everyone else who was ever born is going to die. We all die sometime. I just have a better idea of when I’m going to than most.”

Rika’s gaze is fixed firmly on the floor now. I can barely hear her next statement. “Yeah, but you don’t have to miss me when you die.”

I crawl over towards my best friend and wrap my arms around her as best I can from the side. She presses her face into my shoulder and returns the embrace, turning herself slightly to face me. I can feel her tears soaking the strap of my tank top as she cries silently, squeezing me tightly.

Eventually I push her shoulders back slightly and look her in the eye. “I will miss you, Rika. More than anything in the world, I’ll miss you.”

She sniffles once again. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Oh, Rika. Ever the pragmatist, even in moments such as this. “I’ll just have to become a ghost, and haunt you. After all, someone needs to make sure you get a life. If I don’t, you’ll just be hikikomori forever. And that’s no good.”

“Hey, stop it,” she says, throwing a light smack at my shoulder.

I shake my head. “Hey, maybe I can even help you find a boyfriend while I’m doing the whole haunting thing. I wonder if I can convince ghost-Nakai to come and find you. It’ll be like that one American movie.”

Rika’s smiling now, although she still hasn’t stopped hitting me on the shoulder. “Saki, that’s weird.”

I wink obnoxiously. “You should probably take up pottery, though. I hear that’s the best way to attract ghosts.”

At this, Rika breaks into laughter for a few seconds, wiping the tears from her eyes as she chuckles. “You’re weird.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I reply, grinning. “Are you feeling a little better now?”

“Y-yeah,” she replies. “I think I’m going to go back to bed. Would you like me to help you to your room?”

“My, my, what a gentleman,” I say, placing my hand over my chest and fanning my face with the other.

Rika rolls her eyes and slides her own shoulder underneath mine, placing her hand firmly around my back and hoisting us both up. “Weirdo.”

~^~

“Rika!” I say, irritation growing in my voice as I knock on my roommate’s locked door. “Come out of there. It’s after noon.”

“One, it is Saturday, so sleeping in is perfectly acceptable,” comes her reply. “And two, in case you weren’t aware, I am experiencing a hangover the likes of which could kill a small child. Let me go back to sleep.”

I try my best to make my pout heard through the door. “It’s your birthday, for crying out loud. I made breakfast and everything! Come on out, I know coffee will make you feel better.”

“A mere cup of coffee cannot make up for the absurd amount of alcohol I drank last night, Saki.”

“Two cups of coffee?” I plead. “Please? I made bacon.”

I hear a groan from inside, and then the shuffling of sheets. A short moment later, the lock turns and the door swings inward.

A haggard-looking Rika stands before me. The right strap of her tank top droops loosely over her shoulder, underlying her general disheveled appearance. Her braid is nearly undone, clinging to the very last of its life, and her bangs droop lazily across her forehead. Her narrow gaze is accentuated by the very prominent dark circles underneath her eyes. Pale complexion does not do the sleep-deprived any favors.

“Did you burn it?” she asks pointedly.

“What?”

“The bacon. Is it burnt?”

“No, it is not,” I say proudly. “I managed to keep my attention solely on the pan this time. Does that mean you’re coming to breakfast?”

“I suppose it does,” Rika says defeatedly.

“Yay!” I exclaim as I wheel around and lead the way into the kitchen.

“Saki,” Rika says once we arrive at the table.

“Yes?”

“Did you only make bacon?” she inquires, pointing at the lone plate in the middle of the table.

“Ah. Well, yes. I mean, there’s coffee as well,” I say, pointing at the still-brewing pot on the counter. “I think we have yogurt…?”

Rika smiles lightly and shakes her head. “I should have guessed. Oh well, bacon and yogurt it is, then.”

Rika takes her seat and begins munching absentmindedly on a strip of bacon, while I stop the coffeepot and pour two mugs. After all, I was drinking last night too. Even though I’m not particularly hung over.

I place Rika’s mug in front of her and reach for a piece of bacon for myself. She takes the cup in both her hands, lifts it to her nose and inhales deeply. “Mmm. I do love the smell of coffee in the morning.”

“You look like you’re straight out of a coffee commercial,” I quip.

“Don’t care,” Rika retorts, taking a short sip before setting the cup down quickly and fanning her mouth with her hands. “Hot. Hot.”

This draws a small chuckle from me. “Hold on, hasty pudding. Let me get that yogurt from the fridge so you can cool down.”

“Can you grab ice, too? Why does coffee have to be so impossibly hot?” she moans.

I wheel over to the refrigerator and grab a few ice cubes from the ice tray, depositing them in Rika’s and my coffee after I return.

“Yogurt?” Rika asks, waving a piece of bacon loosely in the air.

“Oh, right. I almost forgot.” As I wheel back over to the fridge, a devilish smile spreads across my face. She’ll never be expecting this. I reach to the back of the refrigerator and pull out a small box, taking it back to the table and setting it in front of Rika proudly. “Happy birthday!”

Rika looks at me inquisitively. “Boxed yogurt?”

“No, dummy,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Open it.”

Her face lights up as she does as I request. “Saki! You actually bought me a cake?”

“Sure did,” I reply, beaming. “Chocolate and everything, just like you said. I know it’s a little small, but…”

“It’s perfect,” she interrupts. “And you had such the poker face last night too, I would have never guessed.”

“Well, if I’m entirely honest, I picked it up this morning while you were sleeping. I sort of passed a cake shop on the way to the market to get bacon, and, well…”

Rika smiles at me. “It’s still incredibly thoughtful. Thank you, Saki.”

“No problem at all. Now,” I say, grabbing a lone candle and some matches from the countertop, “We don’t have to eat it right now, but I figured we should do this now instead of later when we’re studying. Or at least when we should be studying.”

“I’ll be studying,” Rika says, leveling an accusatory gaze in my direction.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” I decide not to retort and instead place Rika’s candle firmly into the center of the small chocolate confection. After a small debacle with the book of matches, I finally get one to light and place it to the candle.

“Okay,” I say, snuffing the match and placing it in the garbage pail, “Make a wish.”

Rika looks at me quizzically. “Make a wish? I haven’t done that since…”

“It’s tradition! You have to make a wish on your birthday. Didn’t you do that growing up?”

“Well, yeah, but not since I was ten years old.”

I frown. “That’s horribly depressing. You’ve been deprived of ten years of birthday wishes! And to think you went home for your birthday last year.”

“So do I get ten wishes, then?” Rika asks, smirking.

“No, of course not. As chair of the wish committee, you get one wish,” I say, crossing my arms importantly. “But, to make up for lost time, this wish will be ten times more powerful than a normal wish.”

Rika rolls her eyes. “I suppose that’s fair. Okay, then. I wish for…”

“No, no no!” I cry out. “You can’t tell me what you wish for! Then it won’t come true!”

“Is that another arcane wish committee rule I should know about?”

“Rika!” I huff. “That’s one of the sacred tenets of wishes. This reaches far past any authority the wish committee may or may not have.”

“Fine, fine,” she says, chuckling. “Hm, all right then.”

She stares for a moment at the flickering candle in front of her. Then she turns to me, and smiles widely. “Thanks again, Saki.” And she blows out the candle with a single, quick breath.

“So,” I say, giving her a slight nudge to the elbow. “What’d you wish for?”

“I thought you said I couldn’t tell you.”

“Aw, come on and be a good sport. Tell me~!”

“Nope. Secret wish. You can’t know,” she replies, turning up her nose and crossing her arms.

“Rika!” I exclaim, nearly lifting myself out of my wheelchair.

At this, both our smiles crack into a fit of laughter. Rika doubles over in her seat, while I laugh so hard I bump into the table and nearly spill both the mugs of coffee, which only makes me laugh more. I feel tears of laughter begin to form at the corners of my eyes. It’s good to share moments like this one.

Eventually we’re able to calm down somewhat, and I cut two slices of cake and serve them out appropriately.

“Yum,” Rika remarks after her first bite. “You have to show me where this cake shop is.”

“I will. Maybe next time we need groceries, you can come shopping with me and I’ll show you on the way.”

“Deal,” Rika says, taking another morsel out of the cake.

“Happy birthday, Rika.”

“Thanks again, Saki. For everything.”

“No problem,” I say, smiling widely. “After all, what are friends for?”

_____
Prev

[brythain]

*clap clap clap* I love it, uplifting ending despite the feels in the middle. Like a molten lava chocolate cake.

[forgetmenot]

*clap clap clap* I love it, uplifting ending despite the feels in the middle. Like a molten lava chocolate cake.

*nods*
Thank you! I didn't want this to end on such a melancholy note, especially after the first two chapters really only had hints regarding what was to come in the third. Glad you enjoyed!

[Numb]

That ending was like something out of a cheesy sitcom. I love it.

One small criticism though, when Saki is worried about Rika's heart, she calls her Rika-chan. Personally, I don't think honorifics work in English prose, with exceptions such as Misha's nickname quirk. The hikikomori thing too, it just seems a little bit out of place, and looks like it's just a sudden reminder that "Hey, this is in Japan", being italicized doesn't help it. The easiest alternative I can think of right now (It's 2AM right now) is hermit.

[brythain]

That ending was like something out of a cheesy sitcom. I love it.

One small criticism though, when Saki is worried about Rika's heart, she calls her Rika-chan. Personally, I don't think honorifics work in English prose, with exceptions such as Misha's nickname quirk. The hikikomori thing too, it just seems a little bit out of place, and looks like it's just a sudden reminder that "Hey, this is in Japan", being italicized doesn't help it. The easiest alternative I can think of right now (It's 2AM right now) is hermit.

'Recluse' and 'shut-in' may work, depending on the audience. I think honorifics can work in English prose, where they serve as relationship markers that aren't normally used in English. After all, the majority of the English language consists of imports to a basic Frisian-German-whatever matrix.

[hyroglyphixs]

Loved the finale! The part about Saki's inevitable fate made me quite sad though :\

Nevertheless, a fantastic story that I very much enjoyed

[dewelar]

I enjoyed this quite a bit as well. This is a good example, for me, of how something I normally wouldn't enjoy reading can be made enjoyable by a good writer.

The hikikomori thing too, it just seems a little bit out of place, and looks like it's just a sudden reminder that "Hey, this is in Japan", being italicized doesn't help it. The easiest alternative I can think of right now (It's 2AM right now) is hermit.

I agree with this. If something can be easily translated, do it. If not, don't italicize it -- that's what you do if you're using a word that's foreign to the language being used. These are Japanese people, thinking and talking in Japanese, so these aren't foreign words in context, thus no need for italics.

[Silentcook]

While I concur that care should be taken when using different languages in a piece of writing, I thoroughly disagree about not highlighting foreign words when inserting them.

The context of the speaker or the setting is not significant, only the main language of the writing matters. Foreign words should be italicized when used. Exceptions can be made once the word has become embedded in common use; for example, I wouldn't italicize "weekend" in an Italian piece any more than I would italicize "pizza" in an English one.

I do realize that what constitutes "common use" is often hotly debated by language experts and dictionary printers, though...

[dewelar]

While I concur that care should be taken when using different languages in a piece of writing, I thoroughly disagree about not highlighting foreign words when inserting them.

The context of the speaker or the setting is not significant, only the main language of the writing matters. Foreign words should be italicized when used. Exceptions can be made once the word has become embedded in common use; for example, I wouldn't italicize "weekend" in an Italian piece any more than I would italicize "pizza" in an English one.

I do realize that what constitutes "common use" is often hotly debated by language experts and dictionary printers, though...

I can understand your point of view, and I do believe it applies in most circumstances. I mean, I still see déjà vu italicized despite being a fairly common term in English. I do think different rules apply to works of fiction, though. The number of untranslated Japanese words in Developments is in the single digits, but for the reasons stated above I'll leave them in normal font. (Unless, of course, the alternative is getting Cooked )

[Silentcook]

Don't know why different rules should apply to works of fiction.

I mean, I can pick out books by Japanese authors from a library. They will regularly have italicized Japanese and English, if it crops up, and a small glossary, plus the occasional note on Hepburn romanization. This regardless of whether - or even especially when - they are works of fiction.

Also, it's definitely not my place to direct anyone's style of writing unless we're getting at the "you're a fucking illiterate" level.