6 writers
1 story
Reliable Narrators
by Munchenhausen, Brythain, Strange Desire, Blank Mage, Umber, and of course Oddball
I fully intended to fling the door open and dramatically make my entrance, but that didn't happen. I end up fumbling with the door knob while balancing on crutches. By the time the door was open, Saeko, my bestest friend who's always happy to see me is just sitting there staring at the door waiting patiently for me.
“Can we just pretend this was a dramatic entrance?” I say in defeat.
“What brings you here this late, Orie?” she asks as she makes some adjustments to her mechanical leg.
“I was going to startle you, but that didn't work,” I tell her.
“What else brings you here this late? Did things not go well with the student council?” she asks.
“Wow, how did you know exactly what I was going to complain about?” I say with a mock chipper tone.
“That fun, huh?” she asks.
“Oh, I've got a story to tell you ...”
- KatawaShoujo2-05-Orie.PNG (322.17 KiB) Viewed 9881 times
I was about … oh, twenty minutes late... maybe thirty … but I was pretty sure they wouldn't hold that against me. After all, this was entirely volunteer work.
And I had to stop by my regular club to let them know I wouldn't be there.
And nobody actually told me where the student council room was.
And... you know... one eyed girl on crutches. Hey, just because I'm in the dance club doesn't mean I'm able to actually walk good.
So to pass the time it took to move from one floor to another and down the halls, I sang to myself. “You put the Boom-boom into my heart,” I started softly, with my wonderful singing voice. “Something something something something, I don't know the lyrics, you jitterbug into my brain, I really wish I new how this song goes because it's stuck in my head.”
You've got to do something to pass the time when you move as slow as I do, after all.
I had my excuses ready as I opened the door. It wasn't that I didn't want to help out. This was the first week of festival preparations after all and everyone was pretty hyped about it. My homeroom teacher made a big deal about letting us know that the student council was looking for help, so naturally I volunteered. I figured it could be fun. I just forgot that it was today until somebody reminded me. I mean, what kind of person schedules volunteer work on the start of a three day weekend anyway?
As I opened the door, everyone turned to look at me. Well, almost everyone. There was one girl sitting behind a desk separate from the others who didn't seem to notice my entrance. I guessed she was the girl in charge because she had her own little desk that all the other tables were facing. In hindsight, I probably should have met someone on the student council before agreeing. You know what they say about me and hindsight though. It's twenty. Just twenty.
... that was a joke. … You know, because I only have one eye.
Nevermind.
“Sorry I'm late,” I said to the head girl, ready to launch into an excuse at any minute. The girl didn't even look up at me. “Umm... hello? I'm here.” Nothing. She simply kept working on the stack of papers in front of her. Damn. That's cold. Ice cold. Cold hearted snake cold.
“She can't hear you, you know,” somebody in the back of the class said. I looked trying to figure out who it was, but I couldn't tell. I didn't even know anybody in the room. Well, there was the green haired girl from the track team, but we don't really talk. We just share the same bathroom and say hello when we pass each other in the hallways. I wasn't even quite sure what her name was. I just called her 'Track girl.' She always seemed okay with that.
“Hello! Reporting for duty!” I said cheerfully as I waved my hands directly in front of her face. That seemed to be the wrong response. She looked at me in a way that looked both kinda angry and kinda disappointed at the same time. I have a hard time describing it. Then she started waving her hands around.
I can recognize sign language, but I don't know a word of it. … Is word the right word? Does sign language refer to things as words? Well, whatever it was, I didn't understand it, but she probably doesn't know anything about foreign rock music, so we're even. Goo-goo gachoo and all that.
Finally, sensing my confusion, she stopped, look coldly at me, then firmly pointed at the clock on the wall.
I had no clue how to give my excuses to a girl that couldn't hear, so I gave the universal gesture of “I don't know,” shrugged shoulders, elbows at my side and palms turned upwards. That didn't work too well because I almost fell down trying to shrug and balance myself without crutches at the same time. It was another patented Orie great first impressions.
“Anybody know how to talk to her?” I asked turning back to the rest of the class.
“Why would you ever want to?” said some guy who was actually wearing a beret with his uniform. You know those little floppy French artist hats, right? One of those. It was as stupid looking as it sounds. Now that I think about it, he might have been wearing that to take attention off the bandage he had over his ear, but that's just me guessing. I sure hope he wasn't wearing it because he thought it looked cool. It didn't.
“Ignore dork face,” Track girl said. Before anybody else could come up with anything useful to tell me, I felt tapping on my shoulders. I turned and saw the deaf girl holding out a large stack of papers for me. She then pointed to an empty seat by the back. That was followed up with another flurry of hand gestures before before shaking her head in irritation.
She violently turned around and grabbed a notepad off her desk and began scribbling on it before calming down, and then just ripping the page out and throwing it away. Maybe it was for the best that I couldn't understand her.
I took the seat near the back next to the guy with the cane. “I was just a little bit late. I don't see what her problem is,” I said to him.
“It's just her way,” he replied without bothering to look at me. “I don't think we've met. I'm Akio. Are you a second year?”
“Orie. I'm first year,” I told him.
“That would explain it,” he said before going back to the stack of papers on his desk. That conversation went nowhere. I looked down at my paperwork; it actually looked like it had already been done.
“Thank you for attending last years festival, blah blah blah. Appreciate your support blah blah looking forward to blah blah blah thank you, Yamaku.” That was the gist of it.
“What am I supposed to be doing here?” I asked.
“Let's see what you've got,” he leaned over to look at the papers on my desk. “It looks like you ended up with one of the easy jobs. All you've got to do is sign your name where it says 'Yamaku representative'. When you get all that done, there's a stack of envelops up front and a list of addresses. Make sure everything goes where it should. They basically just want real live students to put their signatures on these things. It makes them look like they were written by actual people or something.” he smirked slightly as he finished, seeming to find something funny about all that. I'm not sure why.
“It adds that personal touch you don't normally get from form letters,” somebody else said, but whoever they were, they were sitting on the side I don't see out of.
Having heard that, I wanted to look over read these things and find out exactly what was on them. A further more detailed reading revealed they were just as boring and unoffensive as the original skimming. Some of them where thank you letters. Some of them were requests for donations. Some of them were simply invitations. All of them had the same dry business-like tone. That's when I noticed a problem. They were all dated 2005.
“Excuse me, “ I said holding up my hand before remembering that she couldn't hear me. Again, all the eyes in the class where on me. Here I am, up on the stage.
Turn the page.
“Is there a problem?” some unremarkable looking girl asked.
“Yeah, I think I got a bad batch of papers,” I said waving them in the air.
“Let me see that,” the girl said taking the papers from me. “This could be a problem,” she says both flatly and completely redundantly. I had already established there was a problem, didn't I? “They've got the wrong date on these,” she said so that everyone else could hear. Then she grabbed the papers from the desk of the guy in the beret and looked at it, much to his protests. “This one too.”
“Well, that's just great,” the guy in stupid French hat complained. “Nice to see all our hard work is being so productive.” Akio looked at him oddly. He then shook his head as though he realized whatever he was going to say was just going to be a wasted effort.
“Somebody should tell the president,” somebody suggested.
“Do we really have to? She'd probably just get mad at us and make us start everything over again,” Track girl said.
“One us of us should,” the plain looking girl said. I remember at some point I found out her name was Keiko. I don't remember when she said that or if somebody else told me. “Is anyone else here a member of the student council?” she asked. There were no responses. “Class representatives?” She tried again and again got nothing. It looked like everyone here was a volunteer. I guess they save the real student council for more important work.
“Does anybody have any kind of seniority here?” I asked.
“That would be me, I'm president of the art club. I just really don't feel like dealing with her attitude,” the boy in the beret said.
“Fine. I'll do it,” Akio, the boy with the cane said. He got up from his chair with some effort, grunting more than you'd expect from someone our age. About that time, the deaf girl had noticed something was going on, with none of us working and all of us talking. She looked at us curiously. When she finally noticed that I noticed her, she snapped her fingers loudly. Really loudly. I don't know how it's possible for a person to snap their fingers that loud, but she did it. I went back to signing papers, despite the fact that it wasn't going to be of any use to us. I didn't want to be yelled at.
… or you know, whatever it is deaf people do.
Having caught the attention of the others, she took a pencil in her hand and waved it in the air, mimicking the motions of signing paperwork. Nobody but me was signing anything anymore. The cane guy limped his way up to her and wrote something on a sheet of paper. I have no idea what they wrote to each other, but she seemed to sign in exasperation, looking up at the ceiling and shaking her head, as if blaming some celestial being that should have been watching over her but decided to take a coffee break instead.
Once they were finished writing to each other, she snapped her fingers again and stood up on her desk to get everyone's attention. She waved her arms around and made some motions before giving up and writing on the blackboard. “Follow Me,” was all it said. She walked over to the door and clapped her hands for emphasis.
“Ask her if it's going to be long. I can wait here if it is,” I said to Track girl. She politely refused to do so. Akio was actually the one that gave me a sound and logical reason for going along with the group. We can talk about that later, though.
Frankly, it didn't work that well. The idea of us all following her, I mean. I was on crutches, Akio used a cane, and Track girl seemed to stumble and almost collapse at one point. I don't know what that was about and she didn't explain but we really weren't the kind of people that needed to take a long trek through the school after hours. The fact that our guide couldn't talk to us either didn't help much. None of us had the slightest clue where we were going. If I wasn't so hyped up for the festival and full of school spirit and everything, I would have left, but I was so I stayed. I did discretely place one of my headphones in my ear so I could listen to music though. That made it more tolerable.
Let's face it, David Lee Roth can make anything better. Have you ever listened to him? He rocks.
We took a long winding trip through the school. I think we circled the building twice and went down halls I didn't know existed. Eventually we arrived at some door in the office section of the school. The President tried to turn the door, but it was locked. When it wouldn't open, she pointed to Keiko, made knocking motions, then pointed towards the door. The girl knocked on the door and the rest of us stood there impatiently. Mr. Roth gave way to some Bowie. I always wished I could dance when I heard that stuff. He just has a really upbeat danceable feel to him, unlike what passes for music nowadays. Let's face it, modern pop doesn't have anything on foreign classics. It almost makes me want to learn English so I can understand what they're saying without having to look it up.
Also the ability to dance on my own two feet would be nice.
And while I'm wishing for things, I'd like a billion yen and the ability to fly.
After a minute or so, the president looked down at her watch and sighed silently. After what looked like a mental debate and checking some papers in her pocket, she snapped her fingers again, made a circle motion in the air, and pointed down the hall way.
Time for follow the leader again.
We stopped occasionally at a few rooms, where she would look inside, and maybe check a desk or something. It was as though the president was looking for something but wasn't having any luck finding it. What she was looking for I couldn't tell you. I also don't get why we couldn't just wait in the class until she found it but I'm not the boss. I'm only the one-eyed girl that can't walk without crutches. I just take comfort in the fact that I was still the cutest girl in the room.
I don’t think I could have held up on that trip nearly as well if it hadn't been for Akio there with me. Knowing you're not the only one that can't walk well is some weird way of being comforting. I think. Also, neither of us complained as much as the guy in that stupid French-hat. I did find out his name was … dammit. I forgot what he name was now. Taki? Something like that. I'll just call him French-hat. Whatever his name, I didn't like the guy, neither did Track girl.
She actually told me why she didn't like the guy as we were walking. Apparently she caught him trying to peep into the girls locker room once, and he ended up getting his butt kicked by two amputees. That had to be something to see. He denied it though. He said that he was just waiting near the locker room hoping to see somebody that would make a good model for one of his projects and that they only shoved him once. He's an artist apparently, or at least he claims to be. There was something said about nude modeling, but I missed it and nobody would repeat it for me. Admittedly, I did miss some of the conversation because of my music.
Anyway, back to the story.
Eventually we headed downstairs. This is where it starts getting good.
Have you ever tried to walk downstairs on crutches? It doesn't work well. I managed though, without any incident at all. It just took a little bit of effort. So, we went down into what was basically the basement's basement. I may have been a bit up in the air about the other sections, but I'm pretty sure we weren't supposed to be here. Track girl seemed to agree with me. This really seemed like a janitors and maintenance men only level, them or spelunkers. It had that dank poorly lit stale air feel to it; basically, it was like every dark basement you've ever been into except worse.
We begrudgingly followed the president onward until we reached a large thick door. The president stopped and looked hard at us. She pointed to us and made a zipper-over-the-mouth motion. Which I'm not getting why she did. We already knew she couldn't speak. She then pulled a small keyring out and unlocked the door, propping it open and flicking on the light switch just inside. The inside of the room was packed with old signs, boxes, papers, and tons of little knickknacks and tidbits. I had a feeling this was the student council's secret stash.
I don't get why she was trusting us with the knowledge, but then again, I didn't really care that much either. It was just neat that it existed. Of course there was always the chance that she meant to hide it somewhere else after we were done, but I got the feeling that she just really trusted us. After all, I was the one that pointed out their error and saved them tons of time and embarrassment in paperwork.
“Do you need any help?” Keiko asked as the president rummaged through the boxes.
“Seriously? Are you being serious here?” French-hat asked her.
“Well, it doesn't hurt to ask,” the other girl said.
“Umm... hello, deaf? Remember?” he said slapping his hand across his face.
“I'm just being polite,” the girl said. At that point, I just stopped paying attention to them. They continued to argue and the president continued to look for something.
“Are they always like that?” I asked Akio.
“He is. I don't know her,” he said as he sat down on the stairs.
“Ooh-blah-dee ooh-blah-da life goes on,” I said to him. He just looked at me strangely. Nobody ever gets my references. It's a shame there isn't a foreign musical appreciation club in the school. People could use more culture.
Akio and I talked about … stuff. Not important stuff. I don't remember it, the important thing is about that time, track girl came back. I hadn't even noticed she was gone until then. She came back and went straight to the stash where the president was still looking for papers. I watched as she took out a small notepad and the two of them wrote back and forth for a minute before the president, looking happy with herself went to a cabinet in the back of the room and pulled out a large stack of papers. She waved the papers in the air triumphantly and then made a gesture towards two boxes of similar papers. She lifted one up and gestured towards the other. When nobody made a move for it, she sat her box back down and pointed sternly at it. After another second of no responses, she pointed to French-hat and then to the box. Then she gestured back towards the door.
Except now the door was closed. Yeah, I totally didn't see who closed it or anything.
The French guy jerked at the knob a few times, which is not a euphemism, and nothing happened. Track girl and president also took turns trying the door, but nothing. It seemed like it locked when it closed behind us.
“Well, this was fun. I so wanted to spend the night in the basement tonight,” French-hat said.
“I can't get reception in here,” Akio commented to no one in particular. I turned to look at him to see what he was talking about. Apparently, he was trying his phone.
“What are you doing? You know students are supposed to leave their phones in their rooms during school hours,” the Keiko scolded him.
“Does this look like school hours?” French-hat guy shot back.
“So? Am I supposed to believe that after class was dismissed, he went back to his room to get his phone before coming to help out?” Keiko said looking somewhat angrily.
“Chill, Keiko,” Akio said, lifting up his cane and pointing it at her. She crossed her arms and looked away angrily, only to see the class president trying her phone as well. Keiko just lowered her head and shook it in defeat.
The President pulled out a piece of paper and jotted down a short message that she held for everyone to read. “No signal. Too much metal in roof,” it said. I looked up. It looked like an ordinary roof to me.
“So, anybody seen any good movies lately?” French-hat said sitting down and making himself comfortable. He was mostly ignored by everyone.
“Somebody is going to come let us out, right?” Track girl said looking somewhat panicked.
“Don't they check this, first thing in the morning?” Keiko asked, pointing toward some pipes and machines I didn't know the purpose of.
“I think they only check that on school days,” Akio said, “and today kicks off a three day weekend.”
“Three days, nobody going to check on us, and we're locked in. I don't know whether to cry or scream,” Keiko muttered in despair.
“No offense, but this isn't the group of people I wanted to die with,” French-hat said. “On second thought, feel free to take offense. It's not going to bother me any,” he added after a moment.
The president looked at us firmly, and made a few motions, to which we responded by looking curiously at each other hoping one of us understood what she was trying to say. When nobody did, she grabbed a scrap sheet of paper and scribbled something on it, before holding it up for us all to see.
“Stay Calm. I'll think of something,” it said.
“Well, wake me up when we do,” Akio said sprawling back over the stairs.
“Hello! Is there anybody pout there? Can Anybody hear me?” I said pounding hard on the door. Thought it was worth a shot. Nothing happened, naturally.
“Even if somebody was in the school this late, and I doubt it since we had to get permission to stay and work on the papers, nobody has any reason to be this far downstairs,” Keiko said.
“In short, nobody is going to hear us,” Track girl added.
I looked over at the rest of the crew. French-hat and the president where exchanging notes back and forth, neither of them looked happy. Plain girl was exploring the room. Track girl was hidden in a corner somewhere doing who knows what.
The President snapped her fingers again. I really wished she's stop doing that. Once she had everyone's attention she began writing something on a small chalkboard.
“We will get rescued. In the meantime, we should take this opportunity to finish our assignment,” it said.
I tried to subtly get over to where French-hat was standing, since he was the one she was talking with. Sadly, subtly and one-eyed-girls-on-crutches, don't go together well.
“How does she know we're going to get rescued?” I asked him.
“She doesn't, she just wants us to feel better about it,” he told me. There was a look on his face that suggested he might not have been telling the entire truth, but I didn't know him well enough to call him on it.
So, for the next eternity or two, we sat there signing our names to papers, and putting them in envelopes. There wasn't much talking going on. Other than a few failed attempts by the president to get our spirits up we mostly just sat there wallowing in misery. It got worse once we finally finished the papers.
In effort to take my mind of things, I decided to go through one of my dance routines. You've seen those before, right? I chose a mostly empty spot on the ground, laid down on my back, closed my eyes to focus, and begin going through my motions. I figured it was better than the one I did where I'd try to stand and move around on my own before collapsing after about two seconds.
“Hey, are you alright? Are you having a seizure? Please don't die!” Keiko said shaking me. Opening my eyes back up and looking around, most of the room seemed to be staring at me. I guess the rest of the people here have never seen a person that can't stand up under their own power try to dance before. Hey, if they knew a better way for a person who's legs don't support their weight to shake what they've got, I'd like to hear it.
“I'm fine. I'm fine. This is just something I do to... nevermind,” before anybody could finish translating the explanation for her, the president put her hand on my head like she was checking my temperature. “Stop that!” I said pushing her back. Then I realized how stupid it was to try to say things to her.
“What is wrong with you?” French-hat asked. From the tone of his voice the question had less to do with medical issues and more to do with him just insulting me.
“What can I say? Girls just want to have fun,” I tell him. The paused and stared at me for a moment before turning away.
“I'm not talking to you anymore. It's not good for me,” he muttered.
“Okay, this is going to be a really stupid question, but there isn't a bathroom down here, is there?” Keiko asked. Just to be sure, she then wrote something down on a sheet of paper and showed it to the president.
“You could always take a plastic bag and go in the supply closet,” French-hat said.
“You are a disgusting person, has anyone ever told you that before?” Akio said to him.
French-hat actually took off his hat for a minute and ran his hands through his hair. “Okay, I'll admit it. That was bad even for me. I'll give you that one.” That's probably as much of an apology as we were going to get from him. All I knew is that I really didn't want to be in a locked room with the guy anymore.
“Yeah, well, we need to get out of here soon if there isn't, bathroom” Track girl said. I looked over at her and then plain girl. I was pretty sure Keiko was the first to complain. Did both of them need to go now. This was bad.
Thankfully, this is where I had a really great idea. “Anyone feel like crawling through an air conditioning duct?” I ask still laying on the floor and looking up at the ceiling. It looked just about the right size for a small person to squeeze though.
Naturally everyone loved my idea.
“So, now we just need to figure out who's crawling for help,' I said as I pointed to the vent.
“I'm out,” Akio said, even though it should have gone without saying. Naturally, I'd be out of the running myself. That just left Takashi, the only able bodied man among us to come to the rescue.
“It needs to be someone small,” Takashi then said, blowing my idea of him being our able bodied rescuer right out of the water.
“The President?” the plain looking girl asked, nodding her head slightly in the blue headed girls direction in a way designed not to catch her attention. It didn't do much good. She was still standing there with her arms crossed looking irritated that she was being left out of the conversation. I'm sorry, but if there going to have a deaf mute leading the student council, they really need to give her an interpreter or something.
“She might be a little thick in the curves for this,” Akio said.
“So, you have noticed,” French-hat grinned.
“Stop being perverts,” Keiko sighed in irritated.
“Look, I'll go. I can do this. Probably,” Track girl cut into the conversation.
So, with a little bit of effort and a pair of nail clippers used as a screw driver, we opened up a panel in the vent and track girl began to shimmy her way up it.
About a minute later, we heard her call down. “Guys? ... I think I'm stuck on something.”
That's when we froze. There was a moment of silence between us where none of us knew what to do. Appropriately enough, it was broken by the president waving a note in our faces asking what was going on. I took the paper and a pen and stopped. I wasn't exactly sure how much I should be telling her.
It was Akio that actually gave her reply. “Slight complication working on it,” he wrote back. Shizune wasn't buying it. She drew a question mark on the paper and pointed more sternly than I would have thought possible at the duct that Track girl had crawled into.
“Guys? You can hear me right? Hello?” Track girl called back. “I could really use some help here. Really really bad.”
“Are you safe?” Keiko called up.
“I'm trapped in a vent shaft. What do you think?” she yelled back.
“I meant are you hurt?”
“No. I don't think so. Cramped, stuck, scared... is it possible to develop claustrophobia out of nowhere?”
“How are you stuck?” French-hat shouted up to her.
“I can't move, that's how!” she yelled. “What kind of stupid question is that?”
“Would it help if we pushed?” Keiko asked.
“My skirt is caught and I can't reach it to get it uncaught,” Track girl said.
“See? That's what I was asking. How are you caught?” French-hat uttered. “Nobody listens to me.”
“Let me see your crutch,” Akio asked me. He had finished with his almost one sided conversation and was now standing next to me along with the president.
“Here, I'll help,” Keiko said and she provided a shoulder for me to lean on as I handed over the crutch. I took her shoulder and noticed a particularly pleasant and out of place smell. I sniffed the air a few times before figuring out exactly what it was.
“You know, you smell really nice,” I told her.
“Excuse me?” she said with a red face. “Is that supposed to mean anything?”
“Just that you smell nice. If that perfume?”
“I use a scented fabric softener,” she said. I took that as an opportunity to feel the fabric of her blouse between my fingers. It did feel really soft.
“Have we hit the part of the night --” French-Hat started.
“Hey! What the hell?” Track girl's voice came from the vents.
“I turned quickly to see Akio jerking backwards. “Sorry. Sorry. I didn't see anything,” he said blushing.
“You didn't what? I was talking about poking me in the … hiney with a … something!” she yelled back. Akio handed my crutch over to the president and gestured that maybe she should try something.
“As I was saying, have we hit the part of the night where we're already pairing off?” French-hat said drawing my attention again. Until he spoke, I hadn't noticed I was still holding onto the nice smelling girls blouse.
“No!” she said firmly. “and anything would be better than you anyway! That includes other girls or even relatives!”
“Or even animals,” I add, wanting to get my own shot in. The other girl looks at me strangely. “Too far?”
“A little bit. You made it weird,” she murmured to me softly.
“That's certainly given me some pleasant mental pictures,” French-hat said smugly.
“Okay, everybody, break it up. Calm down,” I looked over at Akio and he was trying his hardest to look authoritative. The president next to him did a far better job with her stern look and crossed arms. “I know we're all stuck here together and tempers and flaring, but we need to keep calm. Fighting won't do anything but make everyone here even more miserable. Everyone, apologize to each other.” Having said that, he shook his head in exasperation. “When did I get elected the mature one? Just a couple hours ago I was having a debate about anime characters farting. What happened?” he mumbled.
Halfhearted apologizes were exchanged and Keiko helped me take a seat. French-hat took a separate corner of the room and began drawing something. It was probably for the best. If a fight actually had started, there's nobody above the age of six that couldn't whip me in a fight.
I never did find out what kind of fabric softener she used.
There was a small bit of conversation between Akio, the president, and Keiko. I missed most of it. Music again, hey, when Bon Jovi beckons, who amongst us can say no? Not that listening would have helped much, as some a good deal of the conversation was written anyway. The next thing I knew Keiko started trying to crawl up after Track girl.
French-hat briefly looked up to him and I heard him mutter. “Great. Now she's going to get stuck. My life has officially become a bad Bugs Bunny cartoon.”
“Okay. I'm going to try to get you loose,” Keiko called. A few seconds later, she spoke again. “Okay, your skirt is caught on a piece of metal. Give me a second. … Okay let me try something else.... well that didn't work either. … One more idea.”
We all listened carefully to what she was saying, with the exception of the president who was carefully watching our expressions.
“What the hell? I am so going to kill you for this later,” Track girl yelled.
“Look, I'm sorry, but I'd rather you have you mad at me than dying here alone in the basement,” Keiko called back.
We all watched and waiting in anticipation for Keiko to crawl back out. Once she did she just looked at us sheepishly. “Don't worry, she's on her way,” she said. Sensing we wanted more input she quietly added. “We're also going to have to tell somebody that there's a skirt stuck in the airvent.”
“So, she's running around in her underpants now?” I said what everyone was thinking. There was a moment of silence. Everybody simply looked at me without knowing what else to say.
“Let's ….” Keiko started to say, but her voice just trailed off as she realized she had no clue what came next.
French-hat just smiled big. “Nope. I'm not touching this one. Feel free to make up your own snide comment. This one's too easy for me.”
…
“And that's pretty much what happened,” I finished.
“Seriously, that's where you're stopping the story? Get real. What happened next?” Saeko prods me on.
“Nothing interesting. The president talked us into doing some more paperwork, I sang a little bit just to annoy French-hat--”
“His name is Takashi, by the way,” she interrupts me.
“I like French-hat better.... and how do you know this?” I ask.
“Natty has a thing for him,” she says. I look at her stupefied. I'm not even going to go into that.
“Well he has ear problems, and since he was being such a douche nozzle, I sang a little bit to bother him. Don't ask what I sung. Then the president tried to get us to play some board game for a while. That sucked. Eventually, Track girl came back with a winter blazer wrapped around her waist so the back of the jacket was hanging in front. She also made every effort not to turn her back to us. And that was it. That's where I spent all evening.”
“Just one more thing,” Saeko says looking at me doubtfully. “Admit it. You made all that up,” she said.
“I did not!” I say defiantly.
“You did. I know you,” she says firmly.
“... Maybe some of it. But most of it happened!”
“Define 'most'” she says crossing her arms. She knows me too well.
“Eighty percent? Seventy five maybe... and I might be leaving some things out, but that's mostly what happened. Come on. Trust me.”
[shimmie]3621[/shimmie]
Her POV was very analytical, but doesn't quite deliver the same vibe that Orie's did. Well, somewhat analytical as she didn't see the dates on the papers nor did she see Orie's spastic dancing. Both do lampshade the fact that Midori now needs a new skirt. Maeda's gonna have a serious nosebleed after that, let alone remembering it. 
Overall, though, Having something like this every now and again seems like fun. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if scenes from the actual VN were taken place in the POV of all the female leads, including Misha. What would they be doing during the scene? That'd be cool if there were.
