Braving the Storm [Misha/Shizune] (finished!)

[Doomish]

I've chosen to extend this story, so if you're just joining us, prepare for an uplifting experience about two things: Misha and the rain. Chapters will continue shortly.

Table of Contents

Braving the Storm
Chapter 1 - Lightning
Chapter 2 - Thunder
Chapter 3 - Hail
Chapter 4 - Drain
Chapter 5 - Tides
Chapter 6 - Drizzle
Chapter 7 - Blizzard
Chapter 8 - Overcast
Chapter 9 - Clear Skies

BRAVING THE STORM
TOTALLY NOT BY DOOMISH

For my good friend, Hailey. You are the inspiration that guides a thousand Misha stories.

Chapter 1 - Lightning
Misha gripped herself tightly. It wasn't going to be long now, no, not long. Shizune would come in and greet her and they'd work on their homework together and everything would be happy again. Everything would be alright, and she'd be able to calm down and stop crying. The rain hit the glass like the roar of a hungry animal and she shuddered at the thunder again.

What a pitiful sight I must be, she told herself. Poor ashamed Misha cowering in a dark, dusty classroom in fear of a little storm.

And it was true, she was doing exactly that. She figured ducking into the councilroom before Shizune arrived would shield her, protect her from the storm, but it did no good. She whimpered as the wind picked up from somewhere outside, and her arms folded even tighter across her stomach. Though it wasn't cold, a shiver ran through her spine. Wallowing in her fear, she laid her head down on the desk and cradled herself in a mock-fetal position. It would be over soon. It would be over soon. It would be over soon.

But time flowed on and on and the storm got worse, filing her with the ebb and flow of horror and depression. Her normal, bubbly personality disappeared like Jekyll to Hyde when it rained; whether she was directly in it or safe and warm, whether torrential or drizzle, it always absolutely terrified her. Usually, she had Shizune to help her keep up her guise, but her friend had to depart for the library before it closed to pick up a few books.

And now it was just Misha, alone, shaking and sobbing involuntarily. A childhood memory brimmed at the edge of her mind but she shoved it deep, down inside of her, desperately trying not to let it come to the surface. Her drills laid splayed out on either side of her, all four of them wrapping around her head like a blanket of hair, promising her everything would be okay. She'd need to re-dye it soon, the brown roots were starting to show through. Her old self was starting to show through.

Lightning struck again, further illuminating the room, and a frightened squeak escaped her throat. The rain was only picking up, and the thought of Shizune out in it mortified her to the point of desperation. The library was only two buildings away; a mere walk across the campus to where she sat. But somehow, something within her told her that not all was well. Something told her that she'd have to go out in it before it was over, and it made her cry even harder.

She never cried in the presence of others. She never acted anything other than completely dumbstruck and ecstatic, and it was just the way she liked to treat people. She liked pretending that she was a brave, valiant, strong woman, capable of moving mountains with her boisterous laughter; but the moment she was alone, she crumbled. She turned into the sad, long-haired Misha she used to be, the one without a direction, without a purpose. The one whose parents had nearly disowned her for her beliefs, for her ideals. The one who was horrified of the rain. It brought out the worst in her.

She weakly pounded a fist down on the desk, staring at it, anguish in her bright, golden eyes. She was completely useless now. Shizune was the only one who could help her out of her self-pity, the knight to her Rapunzel. Soon she'd arrive, and Misha would let down her long hair and embrace her until the storm stopped. Shizune was calm, understanding. She supposed it was the facade of her own, put up to ward off the suspicion that she was cruel and heartless at her core, turned into a stone statue by her own arrogant father.

Misha sniffled, fist clenching tighter. She couldn't be alone. Not now. She knew that the longer she was without a companion, without someone to talk to, she'd get more and more sad, for lack of a better word. She hated her limited vocabulary, she hated how everyone assumed the worst of her intelligence, she hated that she was the most normal girl in her class and yet somehow the least smart. She hated everything, and she knew that it would only get worse. The lengthier the amount of time Misha was alone, the more she thought about death. The more she thought about death, the more she thought about the final solution to her problems. The more she thought about solutions, the more she thought about suicide.

And she hated thinking about suicide.

She shoved herself up from the desk, biting her lip to keep from crying out as the storm wailed in response to her movement. It was trying its hardest to keep her down, to force her back into her chair. She didn't know what she was going to do, where she was going to go, but she righted herself, eyeing the door to the classroom. She had to go somewhere that would put her by other people, somewhere to keep her from being alone.

The walk to the door felt like it took ages, but Misha had planned for that. Her steps were slow, wobbling, cautious. Her arms were still wrapped tightly around her stomach, and her slump slowly grew worse as she moved toward the exit. She was hunched over like a frightened kitten, shunning the darkness around her. Her hand touched the handle of the door, and as soon as it turned, the thunder took on a physical form, roaring at her. Beyond the door was the same hallway she'd walked down a thousand times before.

The rain was borderline torrential now. The far end of the spectrum. Every other step, lightning exploded from the clouds, and Misha could see every little detail of the hammering drops as they moved past the ornate windows of the atrium. It was night time, dark, dim, but somehow perfectly illuminated. A horrible fog had fallen over the school, and Misha was all the more frightened. When people around her saw rain clouds, they thought about how it was going to ruin their plans and how they wouldn't be able to go out in it. Misha's head was always filled with thoughts of lightning, of darkness, of horror and monsters. The one thing scarier than rain was darkness. Considering the two usually worked together against her, rain at night being her innermost fear, she was usually glad to have Shizune to protect her.

She stood frozen in the atrium for a while, shivering and staring at the giant dome overhead, watching the rain pick up even further. Just when she was reaching the apex of her anxiousness, ready to enlist someone to help her find Shizune, something she never thought possible in a school like Yamaku happened in an instant.

A flash of lightning brighter than any before it. The rumble of the devil rising from the cracks in the ground. And then, darkness.

Her breath stifled in her throat. Tears started to pour out of her eyes again as the shadows creeped in on her. She heard cries and murmuring from somewhere deeper into the school, but she didn't care to seek any of it out. She was literally frozen in place. Her legs were locked tightly, her arms tightening in her self-embrace. The power had gone out in at least this section of the school. Darkness overtook her, and she whirled around as the shadows began to make faces and sneak around her in a giant circle. They stretched into humanoid shapes, causing her to shake like a leaf in the wind. She knew damned well that it wasn't real, that nothing she was seeing was true. Nobody else would see it but her; but somehow, deep within her, it stirred up something she had desperately hoped to forget.

And she forced it down again, grunting in horror and frustration as her own shadow laughed at her incompetence. How could there possibly be so few people? She'd been about late at night in the school before, but it was always populated. Her stomach stirred and twisted into knots as she slowly, painfully started to walk through the halls. The only lights were the tiny emergency ones dotting the corridors. Somewhere far off, an alarm was sounding. The murmuring continued, but Misha suddenly froze in place and backpedaled into the atrium again when the thunder clattered again around her.

No progress. One step forward, two back. The tension in the air mortified her.

She stared at the front doors, the ones leading to the other buildings of the school. If Shizune was out there, in the library or possibly even trapped in the rain, she'd have to brave the storm to go find her. The light shone from the dorm buildings not too far away, and the separate wing of the school beyond that. It appeared the main building was the only one without power, and Misha's eyebrows furrowed.

She took the few, horrible, cautious steps up to the doors. Her hands slid over the cold metal of the push bar on one of them, and she shoved it open with some assistance of the wind. As soon as she heard the flurry around her and felt the droplets on her body, she knew what she was about to do was a terrible idea. She steeled herself as much as possible, but it didn't work, only heightening her anxiousness.

If she was going out there, now was the time to make the decision. She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut and taking a step. She didn't have a coat to her name; never went out in the rain, therefore didn't need one. A stupid prospect, now that she thought of it. She was always the stupid one.

The rain roared and circled around her as she kept her eyes shut, taking step after step out into the madness. If she opened her eyes, she would see the angry shadows dotting the path, and she'd be unable to take a single step more. The tears blended with the moisture, and her drills slowly but surely sank downward, pressed to her shoulders and unraveling. She took tiny steps, sure not to overextend herself, toeing the line between fear and determination as much as she could possibly let herself.

She opened her eye a tiny bit, just to get a sense of where she was going. The dorm building was not far now, and she decided to stop and take a rest within it. A much needed one, in fact. Even the streetlights dotting the path were doing little to help her, and the rain was almost laughing at her useless efforts. She would never reach Shizune at this rate; she seemed like almost an impossible goal, an epic quest in which someone else was the protagonist. She was merely the follower, and it hurt her dearly. It always hurt her dearly that people referred to them as "Shizune and Misha". They were always together, sure, but people never addressed her. They only spoke to Misha when they were trying to talk to Shizune; it wounded her ego and her passion more than they would ever know. She was dead inside, as much as she didn't want to admit it; a mere shell of what she could be, what she used to be. Several times she'd been alone in her own dorm, moping about, sleeping pills in hand.

As she worked her way to the dorm building, it seemed that it would be easier to just get lost in her own mind for a moment, and so she did. She imagined the bottle of pills just as clearly as the day she was contemplating how long she wanted to sleep for. Did she want to sleep for the night, or forever? She honestly couldn't tell.

But the bottle was shining, the tiny tablets inside almost begging for her to swallow a dozen or two. Swallow them until she could cram no more of them down her throat. They were stronger than regular sleeping medication; they helped her get to bed faster at the encouragement of her doctor. She'd always struggled with insomnia, often getting less than an hour of sleep per night. It only worsened the way she felt when she was alone. But on this night, the capsules were asking of her something she knew would be easy. It'd be like any other night. Fall asleep, be with Shizune forever.

Misha felt clichéd, melodramatic. She felt like she'd changed entirely in that one year of whirlwind events. Her parents were never going to speak to her again. Her relationship with Shizune was never going to delve into anything other than being close friends. Her grades were abhorrent due to the persona she put up being constantly kept in check. She feared her own teacher was forming a borderline scandalous relationship with her.

But she took the normal amount that night. Not for Misha, but for Shiina. For the person she used to be. For the person she wanted to be. She was ready to die, that she was sure of, but she wasn't going to stoop that low.
And now, as she pushed open the door to the dorm building and ducked into the bathroom before anyone could see her, she considered just how far she'd come. She'd braved the storm, but her goal was still half a schoolyard away, and the rain was showing no signs of being polite. She sat in the stall, hair dripping, clothes soaked, and wondered if she should just go up to her room and go to bed. It might have been for the best. She assured herself it was just a break, and she'd be back in action in no time, but she stooped over and put her face in her hands, sobbing again as the memories came flooding back to her.

It was going to be a long night.

This story is only going to be two chapters long; I just felt the need to cut it off here to give myself time to write the next one. I apologize for it being so short, but Misha making a wreck of herself has always been something I've wanted to write about, especially exploring her past and memories for the worse. Next chapter soon.

[misterprinny]

Crushed the overly hyperactive, too happy persona of Misha floating around my head. Good job.

[Mahorfeus]

Ouch, that's really harsh. But seeing as she was borderline suicidal in Shizune's path, it's very plausible.

Hopefully things lighten up a bit.

[Doomish]

Chapter 2 - Thunder
But, eventually, Misha's body started to work again, and she sniffled. If she wanted to reach Shizune in any measure of time, she had to keep moving. The storm seemed twice as daunting, but she was already wet and she was already cold, and she therefore was beginning to feel like she was still in the middle of it.

As the door slowly creaked open and she left the safety of the dorm building, another childhood memory crept into her mind. One she'd tried very, very hard to forget. The old her still clung to her heart like a parasite, squeezing the beats out of it. Her feeble attempts at keeping it down were nothing now, and as the rain overtook her again, swelling and angry, she let it go.

There she sat, on the floor of her house, infuriated father hovering over her. The bottle of alcohol hung limply in his hand, and she was glad he didn't hit her with it this time, instead opting for the one he called "lefty". Her eyes were filled with horror, but her mother's tired gaze meant she wasn't going to do anything to stop him for fear of turning his rage on herself. Misha was in no condition to fight her own father, and she'd voluntarily stopped going to school weeks ago to look after her. Her mother was not dying, merely ill. Or, at least, that's what she kept telling herself.

Misha grabbed the reigns of the memory, lifting the skinny young girl to her feet, urging her to flee from the drunken, fuming man before her. But, for a reason she couldn't place to the very day as she stalked through the rain, Misha didn't run. She stood her ground, her tiny fists clenching.

Oh, how frail she looked. Her brown hair trailed behind her at her waist, and her eyes shone with tears she didn't ever bother stopping. She tried to be strong, so desperately, but her father was nothing compared to her. She'd be going to a new school soon, far away from the horrible man, far away from her apathetic mother. She'd become her own person, she'd become a new Shiina, one that could look after herself.

Lightning crackled as he smacked her back to the ground again. She felt the restraint in his muscles as they came across her face, as if he was trying his hardest not to full-on punch her. He swaggered, turning in the direction of the slap as it happened. Misha struggled back to her feet again, wobbling this time. She gritted her teeth, feeling the cracked one jitter about in its place. She wasn't about to back down, not from him nor anyone.

He hit her again, and down she went, every time stumbling closer and closer to the wall. Thunder exploded out of the sky in a bright crescendo with every hit becoming harder and harder until she just gave up and waited for him to calm down like she always did. After he left the house in a rage for the umpteenth time, her mother cradled Misha in her arms, whispering that everything would be alright soon, and that she'd have the perfect chance to start over.

Lighting smashed against the ground somewhere in the distance, bringing Misha out of her thoughts. As the rumble of the thunder following practically shook the Earth with its volume, she stumbled a bit, falling sideways off the path and onto a bench. She sat there on her knees for a period of time she couldn't place, feeling the terror overtake her again as the rain pounded and prodded against her flesh. It was slowly turning into hail, and if she didn't get inside soon, it'd start hurting her.

But she wasn't afraid of pain. She recalled a day out with Shizune, a day in the town. Two anxious young men recognized their uniforms, and cornered them. She seemed unmoved by their taunting, and the crowd of people bustling from place to place hid their conflict well enough that nobody even noticed it happening.

One of the punks stepped around Shizune in a circle, snickering to himself. It didn't take long for him to find out she was deaf, and he started yelling obscenities into her ears, his friend chuckling the whole time. Shizune knew what was happening, of course, but she paid no mind to it, of sound enough mind that she seemed almost used to it.

Misha was not. When they started to prod her about her disability, asking her if she was retarded or just obese, she lost her temper, and the new her exploded right out of her flesh like a phoenix to its own carcass. She'd launched onto one of the boys, but the other tossed her off before she could do any serious damage. Unable to competently fight anyone, all Shizune could do was watch in horror as Misha proceeded to beat the ever-loving snot out of one of the taunters, only to be tossed off again and beaten completely senseless by both of them.

When they got tired of it, they thanked the two for their time and wandered back into the crowd, leaving the bruised, bleeding Misha there on the concrete. Her injuries weren't too bad, but when Shizune helped her to her feet, Misha could see the pain in her eyes. She wanted to help, but couldn't, and from then on, she vowed that she'd protect Shizune at any cost, and thus, the new Misha was born. Shiina was dead, lying there on the concrete forever, left behind. While they were out, Misha bought enough pink hair dye to last a normal person a lifetime.

[Do you always get in fights like that?] Shizune asked her. The sadness in her signing was evident. Limp-wristed, depressed.

Misha nodded, carrying too many bottles under her arms to say anything back.

Shizune looked more concerned than ever. [Do you always lose?]

Again, Misha nodded, smiling through her bruises this time.

She shoved herself to her feet, wobbling almost drunkly, back on the path. Never deviate from the path. She picked up her pace a little, and found the rain to be less frightening. In fact, it made her angry. It made her remember things she'd tried to forget for so long. It was the source of all her problems, and she supposed that was why it hurt her so much. She doubted her fear of the infernal weather would ever subside, but for the moment her adrenaline boost was enough for her to proceed.

She clenched her fists and, deciding enough was enough, broke into a run. The rain made way for her as she sprinted, breathing heavy, but not tired. Never tired. Puddles splashed up around her calves as she moved at the speed of sound toward the building, every thud of her shoes on the concrete expending more and more fright and anguish from her. She told herself she was going to get over the past, was going to forget what she had become, but she'd never really done it. The moment she met Shizune, it all came flooding back to her, and she fell right back into the Shiina she'd been before Yamaku.

The streetlights behind her flickered and extinguished just as she left their safety, shoving her toward her goal. She knew they were just fine, and it was only in her head, but it made her run all the more important. The whoosh of wind around her ears only drove her forward more, despite its initial attempts to keep her inside. Lightning flashed and rumbled, screaming at her to stay back, to leave, to turn away from her goal, but it was too late now.

She shouldered her way through the door of the opposite school building , and the moment her feet hit the tiles, so did her knees. Breathing heavy and fatigued, she lay there for a few moments, panting. Working out the last of her frustration. Towards her father. Towards her life. Towards everything.

This was no longer about Shizune. As Misha pushed herself to her feet one more time, she realized that it was harder than ever before. She could almost feel the bruises from her father's drunken smacks on her face, feel the wooziness of her legs as she skinned her knees on the concrete, the horrible taunting of the boys that had changed her life; but most of all, she felt nothing but pure disdain for her old self. She planted one hand out in front of her, and then the other. It was time to wake up. She pushed and struggled, absolutely exhausted, soaking wet. Eventually, she was able to raise herself back to one knee, and then to her feet. It was time to find her friend.

Brushing the wet hair out of her eyes, she recalled where she was. The library was just down the corridor. She could only hope Shizune was there, and it hadn't closed yet.

The wet slaps of her shoes on the tiles instantly clued Yuuko in on her presence. She was tidying up the library, preparing to close for the night. As soon as the steps became muffled, and Misha was standing on the carpet of the library, she had something akin to an anxiety attack.

"A-AAH!" She jumped, not realizing how close Misha was to her. "O-Oh, you scared me! Sorry!" Yuuko instantly jumped to the apologies, bowing her head in shame.

As soon as Misha tried to smile, she realized that it was completely impossible. It was like someone had stuck hooks in her cheeks to pull the corners down into an eternal grimace. It would be a while before she'd be able to be the happy Misha everyone knew again. Her eyes had dark circles beneath them.

"Um..." Yuuko noticed her unusual glowering look. "Can I get you anything, Misha? A towel, maybe?" She folded her hands over one another in front of her, fidgeting as always.

Misha shook her head. "Is Shicchan here?" She sounded just as exhausted as she looked. Her voice was aching and scratchy like she'd been screaming, and maybe she had been. She couldn't tell whose voice was whose out there in the storm. She brushed the wet hair out of her eyes, head lulling tiredly to the side.

Yuuko bit her knuckle anxiously, pointing to the corner of the library with her free hand. "She's over there... Please don't touch anything while you're here." Yuuko apparently hated the prospect of having to scrub the water out of the carpets, or god forbid, getting the books wet. Misha just left her as she was and stumbled over to the corner where Shizune sat, comfortably curled up on a beanbag chair catching up on her reading.

As soon as Misha hovered over her, Shizune startled, not expecting to see her.

[Misha! What are you doing here?] She dropped her book, signing quickly.

Misha shrugged, her eyes dull, dead. [I needed to come find you.] At least, that was her original goal. Then it turned into something much more personal.

Shizune's expression turned to confusion, and then realization as she sat her book aside. [Oh, no... I left you alone, didn't I?]

Misha nodded.

[I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, honestly!] Shizune furiously signed her apology, but Misha knelt down beside her, cupping her soft, warm hands in hers to stop her from speaking. They shared a close, intimate look, one of decisiveness, of friendship. Nothing more. Their eyes met, Misha's more heavy-lidded than before, only half open in a daze.

Eventually, she let her friend go. [It's okay. Everything's okay.] Misha said, still tired. Before Shizune could respond, Misha wrapped her sopping wet arms around her friend, pulling her into the most gentle, soft hug she could muster. Not only the run, but the night in general had left her mentally fizzled out. She wanted nothing more than to just sit there with Shizune and hold her forever. To be there to defend her. To be defended by her. It didn't matter.

As Misha's lips brushed Shizune's ear, she whispered, "I love you." But it was completely lost on her, and Misha was perfectly fine with that. As long as it had been said, it didn't matter who heard it.

She released Shizune, and promised to be right back. She'd decided to take Yuuko up on that towel offer. She recalled the three Mishas before her as she moved from isle to isle. The one beaten and bruised by her father, the one dead in the alleyway, and now the one that sat on the bench waiting for the rain to overtake her.

Yuuko rooted around in a storage closet and came back with a towel, which Misha hastily dried herself off with. She apologized furiously as she spoke, almost afraid to tell her that she and Shizune would soon have to leave.

"It's okay." Misha said. She raised her hands to sign, but remembered Shizune had not come with her, and dropped them to the sides.
Misha went back to her friend and collected her, helping stuff the metric ton of books she'd picked up into her backpack. Though Shizune would never know what Misha went through in her time out in the rain, she could be sure that the two would always be there for one another. And, likewise, Misha felt all the stronger from the experience, and whenever she decided it was time for her to smile again, her fake persona would become just as real as her brain, and she would become the person she always wanted to be. The happy person, the one okay with being by herself, the one that wasn't afraid of the rain any longer.

As they neared the entrance of the second school building, Shizune looked to Misha and smiled, clicking open her umbrella. The two stood under it together, and Misha shoved open the doors, ready to brave the storm with her friend's help, and any that would ever come after it.

[Mirage_GSM]

A present tense slipped in here:

Her drills lie splayed out on either side of them,

Also, the student council room is in the same building as the library, just one floor beneath it.
And something seems to be missing here:

...but she paid no mind to it, of sound enough that she seemed almost used to it.

Did Misha just turn into Hanako?

Hanako just left her as she was and stumbled over to the corner where Shizune sat, comfortably curled up on a beanbag chair catching up on her reading.

Okay, done with the nitpicks. Another great story, and it being about Misha didn't hurt at all
I always like stories that try to find out who Misha really is.

[Doomish]

Also, the student council room is in the same building as the library, just one floor beneath it.

The school also doesn't have three separate buildings.

Not that I'm trying to explain away my mistakes of course, it's just that sometimes things require a little twisting to make them work correctly. And, also the fact that I totally forgot that until halfway through the story played a part in it. The other mistakes are now fixed as well, not sure how the Misha-to-Hanako thing even happened.

[Mirage_GSM]

I don't know...
The only buildings that are mentioned in the VN are the main building, the auxiliary building (which are connected) and the two dorms (which are not) - I don't think you want to count the shed
I'm sure there are other buildings on campus, for example a gym or staff quarters.

[Otakumon]

Also, the student council room is in the same building as the library, just one floor beneath it.

The school also doesn't have three separate buildings.

Not that I'm trying to explain away my mistakes of course, it's just that sometimes things require a little twisting to make them work correctly. And, also the fact that I totally forgot that until halfway through the story played a part in it. The other mistakes are now fixed as well, not sure how the Misha-to-Hanako thing even happened.

Girl+library=Hanako, don't sweat it. Nice story, was a good read.

[YOTC]

Doomish, you need to write happy endings more often. The emotional hole you put people in during the story just makes that ending so much better... and sadder at the same time. Poor misha.

[Doomish]

I've changed the title of this story and added a table of contents. I'm going to write this one on and off with Little Faith, as I've decided to extend it into my Misha story! So, with that, expect an extension of the story sometime soon. Perhaps Misha will muster up the courage to reveal her love for Shizune, perhaps not. We'll see.

[Mahorfeus]

Well, the new title certainly has a hopeful connotation. Can the same be said for Misha?

Much popcorn will be eaten.

[Doomish]

Chapter 3 - Hail

Misha shoved open the doors, ready to brave the storm with her friend's help, and any that would ever come after it.

Or, at least, that was what she thought at first. Nearly two weeks later, she was back to her previous state of depression. Shizune, who was straightening a stack of papers to shove into her backpack, took notice of Misha's frown immediately.

[Something wrong?] She asked, concern lining her features.

Misha shook her head. [Just thinking.] Her smile returned, smaller than before. Smaller than it ever had been. The forecast called for rain that day, and Shizune took a quick glance out the window. The clouds hung pregnant in the sky, dark and looming, ready to spill their contents over the whole town at any given moment. The wind was starting to pick up as well.

When Shizune turned back to Misha, she shrugged. [Let's just get out of here before it starts raining, okay, Shicchan?]

[Sure.] Shizune gave her friend an honest smile that disappeared as soon as she turned around. Being worried about Misha was not something that happened often. Storms were always a punch to the gut for her; she was practically disabled every time it rained, like a television tuned to static.

Misha sat in silence while Shizune finished her work, watching the clouds speed along. She hoped they would pass soon, she'd made so much progress in the past few weeks. She thought she was getting over Shizune, over the rain. Over everything. She was going to be a new, happier person, one that didn't want to fling herself off the roof every time there was a light drizzle. But she'd had a dream the previous night, a memory she thought she'd long forgotten, that set her back to square one.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Her mother asked her one day. "Where do you want your life to take you?" She remembered her mother placing a bandage on her cheek; always asking questions to distract her from her injuries. Whether she'd get in a fight or her father would be particularly furious that evening, young or old, it was the same as it always had been.

"Why does dad hit me?" Her question fell on deaf ears.

"Shiina." She took her daughter's chin in her hand and turned it toward her. "You're going to be out of high school soon. We can't keep babying you forever."

"You two don't even care about me, do you?" Misha asked, her eyes dark and tired.

Her mother was given pause by the sudden retort. "Of course I do." She ran a hand through Misha's hair, not yet willing to let her hop off of the bathroom sink and go back to whatever she did when she was alone. "You know I love you." She always avoided the subject of her father. Misha was having none of that tonight, however.

"Tell me why dad drinks." She frowned. "I have a right to know."

Her mother sighed, giving her a tight, one-armed hug as she turned around. "I'll tell you tomorrow; we'll go get your hair done up. It's getting a little stuffy in here anyway. Would you like that?"

Misha sighed. "I guess."

She dropped out of her thoughts for a moment to look over at Shizune, who was still putting things away. She supposed her mind was racing a thousand miles an hour, and that was alright. A plan was already forming in her mind; but she let the memory play back like it was on a movie reel anyway, drifting back into it.

The next day, Misha and her mother went to this beautiful little day spa, and her hair was curled into tight drills. She was even showed how to do it on her own; her hair was turned a bright, outrageous pink at her own request. Her mother initially disagreed with her choice, but Misha insisted it would make everyone happier. That night, when her father slapped her, she couldn't even feel it. She stood up to the man, fists clenched with a fire of her own burning in her heart. She was almost a grown woman, and she'd be damned if she didn't act like it.

She never did find out why he drank.

[Misha.]

But when he forced her into the shower to wash the dye out, she grit her teeth together, biting back tears. She watched the pink circle the drain between her feet and vowed that though she'd lost the battle, she'd win the war. So began a horrible struggle between Misha and her father; every night she'd come home with her hair curled and pink and every night he'd hit her and tell her to wash it out. She gave her mother the same look as she did nothing to stop either of them. Her last days with her family were torment for all three of them.

[Misha!] Shizune signed angrily, tapping her on the shoulder. [I'm ready to g-] She stopped mid sign when she saw the mortified expression on Misha's face, feeling instantly guilty for rushing her.

[Are you crying?] Shizune asked, concerned for her friend.

Misha shook her head, but hid her face in her hands regardless. After wiping her eyes on her sleeve, she smiled at Shizune. [I'm fine. Sorry for making you wait.] She said, blinking away the tears she hadn't even felt come down her face.

As soon as they left, Misha had questions.

[Where are we going now, Shicchan?] She asked, blinking down at her slightly shorter friend. Her signing faltered a tiny bit, jiggling in the air as thunder crackled from overhead. She closed her eyes and chuckled once, biting her lip to keep it from happening again.

Shizune seemed to consider this. [Want to head back to my dorm? We can do our homework if you'd like.] She said it as if it were possible for Misha to decline. They shared a smile, and then their silence returned.

A few paces later, Misha spoke again. [So, I noticed Hicchan wasn't in class today. Any idea where he could have gone?]

Shizune rolled her eyes. [You're not still thinking about him, are you? He went on a trip with Lilly, they won't be back for another few days.] Her signing was hasty, upset. Misha knew the gesture well.

[Oh. You're funny, Shicchan!]

[What? What for?]

Misha giggled out loud. [Oh, nothing. You just seem a little jealous is all!]

[Me? Jealous?] Shizune stopped walking and made a pouty face. [That's not possible! I'm...] Her fingers hung in the air, as if she were unwilling to continue.

[You're what?] Misha asked playfully.

Shizune groaned. It was strange hearing sound come from her mouth, but when it did, there was always a point to it. She wanted to drop the conversation, and now, so Misha obeyed. They fell silent again until they reached Shizune's dorm, and by then Misha's mind had wandered back into her thoughts to escape the rain she knew was about to start. Any moment now, it would fall on them, and it would hurt her. It would hurt both of them. The weather called for golf ball sized hail, approaching with the winds. How such a thing was even possible, Misha never bothered to look into. It was something that almost never happened, and it was going to pass right over Yamaku and the rest of the town. She almost chuckled at the irony.

"What's wrong with you?" Misha asked her mother. "Why don't you ever do anything?"

"Your father can be abrasive sometimes, but I promise I'm going to convince him to change." She looked Misha in the eyes, and they were withered and sunken. "He loves you just as much as I do, Shiicchan."

"Stop calling me that." Misha spat angrily. "Everyone calls me that."

Her mother smiled. "If it makes you happy." The corners of her mouth made telling lines on her face, and Misha could tell it wasn't a genuine grin. Her mother never smiled anymore.

"Nothing makes me happy, mom." Misha grimaced. It was true; not even the comfort of her friends at school could help her now. She wallowed in her depression day in and day out, considering running away just to get out of the same house as the bane of her existence; her very own father.

"Well, I just want you to know that you make me happy, Shiina."

"What if I told you I wanted to have a girlfriend?"

"I'd be perfectly satisfied with who you are. Unlike your father, I'm open to new ideas. Don't ever forget that, sweetie."

And she hadn't ever forgotten it. As she sat on the smooth, white carpet of Shizune's room, she had to set aside the homework assignment so as to not get tears on it. She'd been crying far too much because of this stupid memory recently, and she wanted nothing more than for it to stop.

She was sobbing before she got another tap on the shoulder.

[Talk to me, Misha.] Shizune's eyebrows were narrowed, her expression frustrated. [Tell me what's been bothering you.]

Misha wiped her eyes again, shaking her head, not even willing to sign this time.

After a moment, Shizune sat her books aside and plopped down on the floor beside Misha, gently rubbing her back as she worked out all of her tears. She put her head in her hands and wailed like a child, not even caring who heard her as long as Shizune couldn't. She promised herself she wouldn't ever let Shizune see her cry, and now she was breaking it. She was breaking everything she knew. She blubbered once or twice, shuddering as Shizune drew closer and put her arms around her friend.

But was she a friend? Did Misha ever want to be just friends with her? She didn't even know anymore. All she knew was that she wasn't exactly straight and that her mother loved her, and that was all she could keep telling herself.

She turned to Shizune, whimpering as they embraced. She became a literal shoulder to cry on, her normal frustrated personality all but disappearing in place of the Shizune she knew in private. The caring one, the loving one, the motherly one. The one who was perfectly willing to listen to her woes should she decide to share them.

"I love you." She whimpered again into Shizune's ear, desperately hoping she would hear her this time. It'd become almost a ritual; she'd say it after every embrace, and Shizune would feel the tingling of her breathing on her ear and never say a word about it. She held Shizune tighter and tighter, crying even harder now that she'd noticed the rain starting outside the window. "I love you, I love you, I love you. Please, god, love me back." She murmured over and over between snivels, lips gently touching her friend's neck as she moved her head downward. Shizune pressed Misha's head to her generous chest, removing her glasses to wipe her own eyes. They could both get emotional sometimes, but then, this always happened when it rained.

And, somehow, Misha was still torn with indecision. She wanted to tell Shizune so desperately how she felt now, but it would be almost a relapse in what she'd been working so hard for. She remembered it clearly; Shizune had said 'no'. She'd said she wasn't into women and she didn't want a girlfriend. The day stuck out in her mind more than any other they'd spent together. She remembered everything about it, from the musty smell of the classroom to the beautiful sunset out the window.

Eventually, her sobbing turned to shivers and her shivers turned to silent tears. She let go of Shizune and reeled backward, feeling positively awful.

[I'm sorry you had to see that, Shicchan.] Misha signed lacklusterly, raw depression lining her face.

But, she seemed to understand nonetheless. [Everyone needs to have a good cry sometimes.] Shizune placed her glasses back on her face and smiled softly. Misha leaned back and watched the rain fall on the windowsill as Shizune helped her recover her homework.

Maybe she'd give her mother a call soon.

And perhaps she will. Join me next time, when I write a chapter that's hopefully longer than this one.

[Doomish]

Chapter 4 - Drain

“Dad, why do you drink?”

He took another swig from the bottle, staring out at the rain from beneath the porch. He sat on the swing with his daughter, looking remiss instead of furious for once. Depressed, almost.

“Dad?” She was just a little girl at the time. Young, restless. Her question was innocent, but her father’s reasoning turned out to be far worse than she’d imagined. It was after the first time he’d ever struck her, and he felt horrible. He’d soon learn to cope with what he’d done until the next time the world got him down enough to drink; and then the cycle would begin again.

He turned to her. “You are the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, Shiina.” He mumbled, eyebrows turned upward. Every so often he’d go from angry drunk to sad drunk and Misha would get a glimpse at the real him, the man not even her mother knew well. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

It was the most honest thing she ever remembered him saying to her.

The phone rang once. Twice. Shizune sat across from her on the bed, silently promising her this would be a good thing, that it would be therapeutic. It was only a few hours after Misha’s long cry, and as soon as Shizune heard about her plans, she encouraged her to call her mother and see how she was. After all, they hadn’t talked since she’d gone away to Yamaku anyway. Three times.

[I’m nervous.] Misha said, expression pained. [What if they still hate me?] Four.

Shizune looked confused. [Why would your parents hate you?]

[It’s a long stor-] She stopped in mid-sign as there was a click at the other end. Misha’s breath stifled in her throat.

“Hello?” At first she didn’t recognize the voice. It sounded full of hopelessness, despair. It was one word, but it said more than enough about the man on the other end of the line.

“Dad?” Misha shook, breathing anxious and heavy. She watched Shizune eye her cautiously as she awaited a response. “It’s Mish- Um, Shiina.” For a moment, he said nothing, seemingly as surprised as she was. But his gruff voice returned to the speaker, somewhat more awake than it was the first time he’d spoken.

“What do you want?” The bitterness in his tone hurt her. But, at Shizune’s advice, she didn’t get upset at him. She promised this would be a good conversation. This would fix her woes.

“Um…” Misha hesitated. “I just, sort of, wanted to talk.” It came out just as awkward as it felt in her mind. She considered that this might have been a bad idea suddenly. After all, her father wasn’t known for his conversational skills; if he even so much as got frustrated with her, the phone would be hurled at the wall quicker than an empty bottle of cheap alcohol.

“Fine. Talk.”

She realized then that she had nothing to say. She signed to Shizune for help, but all she said was to make conversation with him. “Well… What have you been up to?”

He sighed. “Nothing, Shiina. I don’t ever do anything. All I do is go to work and come home, you know that.”

“Oh…”

“Is this about your mother?” He asked suddenly. The finality in his tone stung more with every passing second.

“Y-Yes. Can I talk to her?” The phone was shaking in her hand now. She wanted to stop talking to the man as quickly as possible so she could get to the parent that actually cared about her. He paused. That wasn’t good. She could hear him lean away from the receiver and grunt angrily.

He chuckled dryly. “Is this some kind of a joke? Are you trying to play a trick on your old man?” He leaned away to mock-laugh.

“N-No, I really do-“

“Well, it’s not fucking funny, Shiina!” He roared. “If you want to talk to your mother, why don’t you head to where she’s buried?!”

The phone dropped from Misha’s hand, her eyes going the size of dinner plates. Shizune reeled back in alarm at her change in expression. She scrambled to pick up the phone and hand it back to her friend, but Misha was staring downward at her hands, expression completely vacant, like she was a computer hanging after a crashed program. Shizune forced the phone back into her hands and told her to speak, not quite understanding what had happened.

“Wh-What do y-you mean?” Misha bit her fingertips anxiously. Tears brimmed on the edges of her wide, terrified eyes. Please, god let him be joking. “M-Mom’s okay, right?” Please god be joking.

She heard the swig of a bottle from the other end. Something in her father had been pressed; a switch flipped, a button pushed, something that made him absolutely furious. “Your mother is dead, Shiina. She got in a car wreck and died a few months ago. Are you happy now? Are you happy with making me say that again?!” He yelled, and somewhere a chair skidded to the ground as he kicked it. “Are you happy now?!”

“No.” Misha’s voice was meek, broken. The only parent she had left in her life was her drunken, abusive father now. She took a second to let it soak in, but it sat there on the edges of her brain begging her to cry again, aching for her to break down in tears and never move from the bed.

“Don’t ever call me again.” Her father grunted into the phone, pure hatred in his voice, and then the line went dead. Misha sat the phone on the bedside table with a trembling hand, turned to the side, and entered a mock-fetal position on the bed, still completely emotionless save for her gigantic golden eyes. She supposed it wouldn’t hit her for a few more minutes, and she enjoyed the silence. She found comfort in the hail pounding against the windows outside instead of the usual opposite. It calmed her, as if it were trying to lull her to sleep. Her mother was dead.

It took a few more tries before the words meant anything. Her mother was dead. Her mother was dead.

“My mother is dead.” She whispered to herself, and Shizune looked absolutely distraught as she read her friend’s lips. Misha lay there atop the sheets, staring at the wall, knees tucked up as far as they would go. “And my dad didn’t even bother to tell me.”

[Misha… Are you going to be okay?] Shizune somehow already knew the answer.

For a while, neither of them moved. She did nothing. She said nothing. She felt nothing. Misha didn’t bother signing the word ‘no’. Silent tears left her eyes for the second time that night, and stung her face for an entirely different reason. The rain laughed at her, finding happiness in her weakness, and she wished it would just go away. She wished everything would go away.

She gave her head a limp shake, and then scooted off of the bed, eventually wobbling to a standing position. She didn’t blink, she barely breathed. The world meant nothing to her all of a sudden. It was a raw, horrible shock to her system, and all she could do now was wait until it passed over her and she started crying again. She bid Shizune a slow and chugging goodnight despite her pleas otherwise.

[I need to be alone for a little while.] Misha said, and the door closed behind her.

Before she’d even taken ten steps, her eyes were so full of tears that she had to stop walking to avoid bumping into walls. She wanted to go back, to sit with Shizune and just hold her again until she had no more tears left to cry. But, then, she also didn’t want her to see her as broken as she was. She’d rather have hurt herself than both of them. Luckily, it was the evening, and there were few students for her to pass by. Once, she had to hold in her breath and sheepishly look away as she went by another student, only to continue bawling as soon as she got to the stairwell.

When she reached her room, she could barely even see. Before she was aware of where she was, she’d flopped onto her bed and was screaming furiously into her pillow. In anger, in hatred, in sadness, they all blended together for her now. As she wailed, she wondered just why she felt anything at all; Shizune didn’t love her. Her father didn’t love her. The one person who really did care for her was allegedly dead now. Deceased. In the ground. Gone to heaven.

But was heaven really that far away? From a cracked, red eye hidden partially by wavy hair, she spied her sleeping pills. All it would take was a dozen or so of them and she’d be gone. With Shizune. With her mother. With apologies.

“No.” She said to the rain, voice cracking with the thunder. “I’m not going to do it.” She promised herself she wouldn’t commit suicide, not now nor ever; and by God, she was going to stick to it. She popped open the bottle and choked down the normal dose, praying for a restful sleep.

“You aren’t as good as you think you are.” The rain said to her, drawing her out of her daze. “Nobody loves you.” It giggled in anxious pleasure, hail pounding the windows like a bucking horse.

“I know.”

As soon as Misha was drifting off and the horrible storm faded into the background, there came a knock at her door. She dragged herself to her feet, already knowing who it was before she opened it.

But, she acted surprised to see her bespectacled friend anyway. [Oh, Shicchan. What’re you doing here?] She was somewhat glad she didn’t have to use her voice, as it would have instantly betrayed her calm words.

Shizune was frustrated. [You said you needed some time alone, but I was worried about you.]

[Well, that’s very kind of you, but I’m fine.] Misha lied through her fingers.

Shizune sighed. [Just let me in. I need to talk to you.] Her signing was just as disgruntled as her facial expression. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her eyes a light pink around the edges. Had she been crying too?

Regardless, Misha let Shizune into the room and closed the door behind her. For the longest time, she stared at Misha without so much as a word, watching her carefully to discern if she really was alright.

After a while, she turned from a stone statue back into Shizune, and spoke. [Tell me what’s wrong, Misha. I want to know.] She wasn’t really speaking, of course, but Misha liked to call their back-and-forth signing a conversation anyway. She rubbed her shoulder tentatively, as if asking Misha embarrassed her more than anything else. But, Misha could tell Shizune was honestly concerned, so she just came out with it.

[My mother is…] She hesitated with a sick feeling in her gut. Her fingers paused in mid-rotation and doubled back, unwinding the sentence.

She didn’t know the sign for ‘dead’.

Shizune seemed to understand regardless, and drew Misha in for a close hug; but as the delicious scent of Shizune’s perfume rolled onto her, she stiffened. Her mother wanted her to be happy. She was given love, life… And here she was letting it go to waste.

[Shizune, I have a confession to make.] Misha said sadly, addressing her formally instead of with childish nicknames.

She leaned in close, gently resting her palms on top of Shizune’s, interlocking their fingers. She’d heard it was the most intimate gesture one could do towards a deaf person, and this time Shizune as looking her in the eyes when she said “I love you.”

As she hadn’t released Shizune yet, Misha knew she couldn’t respond, to acknowledge that she understood. The blush that crossed Shizune’s face said just enough, however, and Misha leaned into her even closer, fingers anxiously twitching as she went in for the sealing kiss. She had no idea why Shizune hadn’t rejected her, but at this point, she didn’t care. She wanted Shizune, to have and to hold, until the sun finally decided to appear and part the rain clouds hovering over her.

And then, their lips met. Thunder and lightning and hail be damned, they would make a good night out of the rain yet. They held it for a moment longer, Misha’s fingers curling tightly around Shizune’s knuckles. She made a small whimper almost akin to a moan as she dislodged from her friend; realizing her face was horribly flushed, she released Shizune’s hands and brought her own to her cheeks.

She tasted beautiful. It was just as Misha thought she would. Her smell was a delicious blueberry scent, wafting off of her body like an aura. Her lips were smooth, glossy; and as they touched Misha's, she felt a twisting in her stomach that she'd hardly ever come across before. Her breath got ragged as she realized she wanted more; much, much more.

Shizune watched Misha silently as she lightly gripped her friend's shoulders. Their lips met again, and again, and again.
Misha leaned back. [Shicchan, are you okay with this? You know I want you to be... With me, right?] She was circling around the word 'girlfriend' as hard as she could. It was the one she'd used last time, the one Shizune had decided didn't fit their relationship.

[Remember what you told me?] Shizune asked, a calm smile on her face. [Everything's going to be alright.] Misha spread her arms out and wrapped them around Shizune, planting a light kiss on her neck, squeezing out a few more tears.

"I love you." Misha whispered into her shoulder, and this time Shizune seemed to be able to hear her perfectly fine. Eventually, the pills took over, and Misha fell asleep in Shizune's arms, out like a light. As she was far heavier than Shizune expected, all she could do was lay her down on the floor and stay beside her, gently running a hand through her hair for the rest of the night. Shizune didn't believe her own words for being worth their salt, knowing that the wreck Misha'd turned into would return as soon as she awoke and realized her mother wasn't there for her all over again; but for now she deserved a rest. They both did.

A few days earlier, Shizune was eating dinner with her family. It was a four-day weekend, having Thursday and Friday off of class, a rarity at Yamaku; and, of course, she was near tears in the face of her father. He grunted angrily at her, making sure she was looking before he spoke.

“Absolutely not!” Jigoro yelled, face full of anger and unkempt whiskers. He never signed at her if all possible, he knew damn well she could read his lips. “No mere woman is fit for my daughter, especially not that glue-huffing friend of yours.”

[Misha isn’t a ‘glue huffer’, father!] Shizune signed back angrily. [I should be allowed to ask out whoever I like!]

Jigoro leaned across the dinner table, shoving the silent Hideaki out of the way. “You listen to me, Shizune.” He grunted. “Stay away from that girl, she’s putting ideas in your head.”

[The only reason I said ‘no’ to her the first time she asked was because of you!] Shizune pointed at him angrily. [My thoughts are my own, father, not yours.]

He reeled back. “You think you’re old enough to make your own decisions? You need to learn a little respect for your elders!” He took a furious bite of his steak.

[I love her, father! It’s hurting her and I can tell, you should at least let me tell her how I feel.]

“You think you have FEELINGS?” He stood, pushing off of the dinner table. “Defy me, and I promise you’ll regret it, Shizune.”

[You can’t tell me what to do in my alone time.]

He leaned in close, taking her light, pointed chin in his rough hands. “I am your father, and you are going to focus on your schoolwork instead of silly pipe dreams about lesbian women!” He growled.

“What would mom think if she saw you yelling like that?” Hideaki grumbled, not looking up from his steak.

This silenced Jigoro. He stared at his daughter for a moment longer, and then went back to eating. Before he could take another bite, Shizune had sat her plate in the sink and fled from the room.

Sometimes stress and tragedy don't seem so bad when you've got a shoulder to cry on. Next chapter soon.

[misterprinny]

At least this chapter was slightly uplifting. Good work as always

[YOTC]

Your writing makes me feel bad. On both levels of I can't write that well and that It just generally makes me dislike certain characters.