Tomorrow's Doom ~ Up: 04/30/16 ~ recommitted to completion.

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Helbereth
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 8/15

Post by Helbereth »

JTemby wrote:
Lumi wrote: Look at me, arguing with the author...
Welcome to my world :3

Also, I have no comment on the chapters yet again.
Looking forward to what happens to what happens at the beach.
Good guess, but I'll remind you the world has many places that could fit the descriptions I've hinted around. As young Adam explained to his Geography class when asked to find Spain, "it could be anywhere!"

Thank you for allowing me to make a reference to Surf Ninjas.
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griffon8
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 8/15

Post by griffon8 »

Helbereth wrote:It's a bridge between the end of the Amaya/Tadao altercation and the trip. I could have glazed it over with a few paragraphs, but there were a few things I wanted to close down, and a few others I wanted to open up - I also wanted to live in Aiko's head while she's kept out of the loop. She starts nesting, has some suggestive dreams, thinks about the past, her future, etc., and I wanted to make sure her reasons for inviting the various other characters was clear.
It's also where you finally do a title drop. :)
I found out about Katawa Shoujo through the forums of Misfile. There, I am the editor of Misfiled Dreams.

Completed: 100%, including bonus picture. Shizune>Emi>Lilly>Hanako>Rin

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Helbereth
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 8/15

Post by Helbereth »

griffon8 wrote:
Helbereth wrote:It's a bridge between the end of the Amaya/Tadao altercation and the trip. I could have glazed it over with a few paragraphs, but there were a few things I wanted to close down, and a few others I wanted to open up - I also wanted to live in Aiko's head while she's kept out of the loop. She starts nesting, has some suggestive dreams, thinks about the past, her future, etc., and I wanted to make sure her reasons for inviting the various other characters was clear.
It's also where you finally do a title drop. :)
I've actually tried to title drop every chapter somewhere in the narrative, but, yeah, I finally did find a place to work the main title into the prose here. Sometimes, the chapter title was actually drawn straight from a snip of the narrative, but others I worked into it intentionally. This is one of the cases where I snipped the chapter title out of the narrative rather than coming up with it beforehand.
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George Da Moose
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 8/15

Post by George Da Moose »

I hate you. I thought I would always hate OC fan fictions and then you come along and knock me off my high throne.
I don't even know how you did it. Your story doesn't have mind-blowing writing with astonishing plot twists in every chapter. Your writing also isn't so horrific that it makes me want to burn my computer.
Maybe I'm not actually interested in the story itself, but rather the characters. You created a brand-spanking-new set of characters that don't seem "new" to Yamaku at all. They seemed to fit perfectly in the world of Katawa Shoujo. How you managed to pull off such an accomplishment is beyond me.
So please tell me your secrets and give me back my throne. It cost me about $160 at Bed Bath and Beyond and I really don't want to buy another one.
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JTemby
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 8/15

Post by JTemby »

George Da Moose wrote:I hate you. I thought I would always hate OC fan fictions and then you come along and knock me off my high throne.
I don't even know how you did it. Your story doesn't have mind-blowing writing with astonishing plot twists in every chapter. Your writing also isn't so horrific that it makes me want to burn my computer.
Maybe I'm not actually interested in the story itself, but rather the characters. You created a brand-spanking-new set of characters that don't seem "new" to Yamaku at all. They seemed to fit perfectly in the world of Katawa Shoujo. How you managed to pull off such an accomplishment is beyond me.
So please tell me your secrets and give me back my throne. It cost me about $160 at Bed Bath and Beyond and I really don't want to buy another one.
Oh wow, I don't think I've ever read a comment so passively hostile yet so full of praise. :?
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George Da Moose
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 8/15

Post by George Da Moose »

JTemby wrote:
George Da Moose wrote:I hate you. I thought I would always hate OC fan fictions and then you come along and knock me off my high throne.
I don't even know how you did it. Your story doesn't have mind-blowing writing with astonishing plot twists in every chapter. Your writing also isn't so horrific that it makes me want to burn my computer.
Maybe I'm not actually interested in the story itself, but rather the characters. You created a brand-spanking-new set of characters that don't seem "new" to Yamaku at all. They seemed to fit perfectly in the world of Katawa Shoujo. How you managed to pull off such an accomplishment is beyond me.
So please tell me your secrets and give me back my throne. It cost me about $160 at Bed Bath and Beyond and I really don't want to buy another one.
Oh wow, I don't think I've ever read a comment so passively hostile yet so full of praise. :?
I tend to compliment the people that shove my own stupidity in my face while threatening them ever so slightly. I find it keeps conversations interesting and allows me to vent some of the anger I've built up when nobody paid attention to me as a young child.
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Helbereth
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 8/15

Post by Helbereth »

JTemby wrote:
George Da Moose wrote:I hate you. I thought I would always hate OC fan fictions and then you come along and knock me off my high throne.
I don't even know how you did it. Your story doesn't have mind-blowing writing with astonishing plot twists in every chapter. Your writing also isn't so horrific that it makes me want to burn my computer.
Maybe I'm not actually interested in the story itself, but rather the characters. You created a brand-spanking-new set of characters that don't seem "new" to Yamaku at all. They seemed to fit perfectly in the world of Katawa Shoujo. How you managed to pull off such an accomplishment is beyond me.
So please tell me your secrets and give me back my throne. It cost me about $160 at Bed Bath and Beyond and I really don't want to buy another one.
Oh wow, I don't think I've ever read a comment so passively hostile yet so full of praise. :?
Nor have I, but I don't think I have any secrets to offer. All I really did was approach the OCs as though they actually had been in the world the whole time, and focused on making them as real and fully-developed as any writer should.

The fact that you got that from reading it, that they seemed to 'fit perfectly into the world of Katawa Shoujo', is one of the goals I set out for myself when starting this, so I'm very happy to see it get across; especially to someone who professes to dislike OCs so vehemently.

Your throne was only $160? Gee, you should have gotten the deluxe model with 12 cupholders and a personal chef; best $4000 I ever spent - even though the chef only speaks Russian.
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George Da Moose
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 8/15

Post by George Da Moose »

Helbereth wrote:
JTemby wrote:
George Da Moose wrote:I hate you. I thought I would always hate OC fan fictions and then you come along and knock me off my high throne.
I don't even know how you did it. Your story doesn't have mind-blowing writing with astonishing plot twists in every chapter. Your writing also isn't so horrific that it makes me want to burn my computer.
Maybe I'm not actually interested in the story itself, but rather the characters. You created a brand-spanking-new set of characters that don't seem "new" to Yamaku at all. They seemed to fit perfectly in the world of Katawa Shoujo. How you managed to pull off such an accomplishment is beyond me.
So please tell me your secrets and give me back my throne. It cost me about $160 at Bed Bath and Beyond and I really don't want to buy another one.
Oh wow, I don't think I've ever read a comment so passively hostile yet so full of praise. :?
Nor have I, but I don't think I have any secrets to offer. All I really did was approach the OCs as though they actually had been in the world the whole time, and focused on making them as real and fully-developed as any writer should.

The fact that you got that from reading it, that they seemed to 'fit perfectly into the world of Katawa Shoujo', is one of the goals I set out for myself when starting this, so I'm very happy to see it get across; especially to someone who professes to dislike OCs so vehemently.

Your throne was only $160? Gee, you should have gotten the deluxe model with 12 cupholders and a personal chef; best $4000 I ever spent - even though the chef only speaks Russian.
You first steal my throne and then mock me? I would normally insult your intelligence and then rant on about how I would trash your $4000 "stool", but I'm feeling good today and will spare you of my wrath.
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Helbereth
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 8/15

Post by Helbereth »

George Da Moose wrote:You first steal my throne and then mock me? I would normally insult your intelligence and then rant on about how I would trash your $4000 "stool", but I'm feeling good today and will spare you of my wrath.
Well, thank you for your tolerance.

If I've shattered your world view, I do apologize; I didn't set out to do that intentionally. My objective was to write a character-driven story set in the KS universe, populate it with my own list of personalities, and draw on the existing characters to fill the background. At no time did I lose sight of the fact that my characters had to be as well-developed as any of the preexisting ones, nor did I forget to describe the originals with just as much detail.
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Total Destruction
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 8/15

Post by Total Destruction »

YOU FUCKER.

I just killed a morning trying to recover from an awesomely devastating bad end when you throw out a friggin' brain disease at me. As if all these damned shoujos needed more Katawa-ing, you install another hard limiter in a story where many characters' next days might be the last.

Grrr.

(This is really well-written, and was worth no sleep. I've been needing to regulate my pattern anyway.)

Title makes SENSE now. Grim.
... Danger.
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Panthour
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 8/15

Post by Panthour »

Total Destruction wrote:YOU FUCKER.

I just killed a morning trying to recover from an awesomely devastating bad end when you throw out a friggin' brain disease at me. As if all these damned shoujos needed more Katawa-ing, you install another hard limiter in a story where many characters' next days might be the last.

Grrr.

(This is really well-written, and was worth no sleep. I've been needing to regulate my pattern anyway.)

Title makes SENSE now. Grim.
Don't worry, super good end = Hisao becomes mega scientist and makes cure for huntingtons disease then Aiko is cured and they live happily ever after, The End. (Amazing I know, feel free to use this Helbereth)
S-Class Wizard. Emi is my waifu.
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Helbereth
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 8/15

Post by Helbereth »

Panthour wrote:
Total Destruction wrote:YOU FUCKER.

I just killed a morning trying to recover from an awesomely devastating bad end when you throw out a friggin' brain disease at me. As if all these damned shoujos needed more Katawa-ing, you install another hard limiter in a story where many characters' next days might be the last.

Grrr.

(This is really well-written, and was worth no sleep. I've been needing to regulate my pattern anyway.)

Title makes SENSE now. Grim.
Don't worry, super good end = Hisao becomes mega scientist and makes cure for huntingtons disease then Aiko is cured and they live happily ever after, The End. (Amazing I know, feel free to use this Helbereth)
Truthfully, the thought crossed my mind. I haven't really thought much about epilogues, though. I did have a dream where Aiko is driving a very pregnant Amaya to the hospital as she screams in labor pains, berating Tadao. Maybe it was just my over-active imagination making me daydream, but the whole scene was hilarious in my head.

And, yes, that does mean some of the stuff in the story did come from dreams, waking or no, but I think that's normal, right?

I'm not crazy for having inspiration come via vivid, colorful dreams, am I?
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griffon8
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Re: Tomorrow's Doom - Aiko Kurai (OC) Updated 8/15

Post by griffon8 »

Helbereth wrote:I'm not crazy for having inspiration come via vivid, colorful dreams, am I?
Not for that reason, no. :lol:
I found out about Katawa Shoujo through the forums of Misfile. There, I am the editor of Misfiled Dreams.

Completed: 100%, including bonus picture. Shizune>Emi>Lilly>Hanako>Rin

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Helbereth
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Chapter 19 - Blindfolded (part 1)

Post by Helbereth »

It's Wednesday (as of 1 hour and 19 minutes ago), so I'm posting the new chapter. I'm not going to say much else here.

Blarg.


Previous Chapter|Part 2|Next Chapter
_________________________________________________
Chapter 19 - Blindfolded

Unfortunately, my subconscious is much less confident in the likely enjoyable outcome of this trip. Anticipation, excitement, worry, and my overactive imagination result in repeated waking throughout the night. Staying up for an hour or two with each interlude, I add a few things to my suitcase based on Hisao's accidental slip; mostly a few towels.

Unable to find my bikini, I wonder if it's one of the items Amaya stuffed it in that pillowcase. Instead I grab my school swimsuit, just in case my bikini has simply been lost in the ether, and a black and white polka-dotted sarong, meant to match my bikini, that was well-hidden under a pile of neatly folded socks that I rarely wear. Topping the bag with a pair of cutoff denim jeans, strategically cut just above the mid-line of my thigh, I close the suitcase and drop back into bed.

Managing to slip back into unconscious bliss shortly before four, I quietly berate my inability to sleep under pressure. Dreaming about a flowery field that I think looks familiar, I see Hisao there, but I can't reach him. Soon after it began, the pleasant dream scatters and fades, leaving only the warm smile splayed on his peaceful countenance caught in my vision.

Waking with a snort and groaning deeply, I hear repetitive banging coming from the vicinity of my door. Opening my eyes slowly, I can't tell the difference between the blackness behind my eyelids and the pervasive darkness of my room. Feeling the soft bed under me, and hearing the pounding at my door, I know I'm awake, but only barely.

Amaya is trying to break a hole in my door, I think, but she's prone to overreact to things, so I'm not really concerned with her urgency. Rolling on my side to face the knocking, I sputter and croak, “five more minutes!” before stuffing a pillow over my face and trying to drift back into peaceful slumber.

“Get up!” Amaya demands. Realizing my carefully planned and executed request went unheard, I'm subjected to more rapping, preventing me from resting. Her high-pitched morning voice, edged with profound fatigue and frustration, proceeds to threaten, “don't make me come in there, Aiko!”

Ha! Like she can get in!

Thinking that, my eyes snap open at a dreadful realization; I seem to recall giving her a key at some point, but I got it back, I think. Maybe I forgot, I seem to do that a lot lately, but, for her to be so invasive, there would have to be good reason. The sun hasn't even come up yet, and I think it's Saturday, so there's no good reason for her to be bothering me this early.

Or, wait... Was there something I was supposed to do today?

“Shit,” I mumble as I lift the pillow off my face and glare at the clock. It's ten past five in the morning, which is exceedingly early, even for me, but I seem to recall something about getting up really early to get under a bus.

That can't be right; I must mean onto a bus, not under one – getting under a bus makes no sense.

While I'm imagining someone strapping themselves under a bus, I start to hear an odd sound coming from my door. Rattling and clicking, it sounds like someone is fiddling with the lock. Pushing her way through my door, Amaya sighs frustratedly and flips on the light, forcing me to recoil and slam my eyes shut. Apparently I did lend her that key, and I never did get it back; I'll berate her for it later.

Slamming a pillow over my bleary eyes to defend them against the invasive light, I hiss and groan, trying to ward her away. Unhindered by my noisy protests, Amaya tackles me and starts shoving me against the bed. “We have a bus to catch, sleepy-head~!” she informs me, sounding entirely too chipper for five in the morning. “Get up. Get up! Get up~!” she yells.

It's hard to get up with you on top of me.

“Just go without me!” I mumble through my pillow. Grabbing at my fluffy eye protection, she starts pulling it away, invoking my fury. Trying to catch it, I nearly stumble off the bed, but her hand on my shoulder stops me before I can fall, or reach my pillow. Squinting and sneering viciously, I bark, “no! You can't have my pillow!”

“You can sleep on the bus,” she states, “I'll even let you bring the pillow.”

Pawing at her shoulder with one eye closed, I start feeling my senses returning and a yawn comes up through me, leveling my groggy head. Giving up on the pillow, I slump down on the bed and smile. Perhaps I'm just playing at this point, but I do want my pillow back. “Gimme the pillow and I'll go,” I bargain sleepily as I swing my feet off the bed, “just stop yelling; you'll wake the parrot.”

“Fine,” she agrees, handing me the pillow. Sighing contentedly, I wrap myself around it, and look up grinning as she asks, “what parrot?”

“Nevermind,” I reply dismissively, cuddling the plush head-carriage, “it's not important.”

Eying me suspiciously, she takes a few steps back, giving me room to stand. Doing so, I reach up and start pawing the hair out of my face, holding the pillow with my trailing hand. “I'll be waiting outside,” she states, then points at me emphatically and adds, “don't go back to sleep.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” I reply sardonically.

“You're awake enough for sarcasm, at least,” she comments with a giggle as she heads out of the room.

“What sarcasm?” I ask in a blatantly sarcastic tone. She doesn't react, so I'm not sure she heard me. Glancing at my bed, I decide to toy with her a little. Leaping onto it heavily, making sure she can hear the springs, I listen as she reopens the door. Looking at her innocently, I ask, “What?”

“Just checking~!” she remarks, closing the door again.

So, I'm a little late getting up; I understand she's a little anxious, but we're on vacation. “Stop being like Shizune~!” I scold her loudly. My door rattles from a solid kick, and I hear her groaning frustratedly.

Smirking at her lack of a verbal reply, I set out getting a towel and a change of clothes. Gathering them under my arm like a football, I rush out of my room, headed toward the bathroom. Ducking a punch at my shoulder, I laugh wickedly, “Mwahaha~!” Glancing over my shoulder at her hands-on-hips angry face, I playfully add, “missed~!” Her reply is a frustrated groan accompanied by the stomp of her foot.

Realizing I should probably hurry, I don't dawdle taking a shower and getting dressed. Simple loose-fit jeans and a black t-shirt with a gray, hooded sweatshirt and my white tennis shoes; I might as well get some use out of them, if not for tennis. Figuring I can brush the snags out of my hair on the bus, and predicting I'll probably sleep through most of the ride, I just give my hair a once-over so it looks neat, and head out of the bathroom with the towel draped around my neck.

Outside the door, Amaya awaits, holding my suitcase and laptop. Pausing at her appearance there, I'm a little bewildered. Being unable to check the time with my watch in the suitcase, I inquire, “we're not late yet, are we?”

“Figured I'd save you the trip,” she replies, “c'mon, Shizune just texted saying they're all waiting outside already.”

As she hands me the suitcase, I can't defend against the swift kick to my shin. “I was just kidding!” I protest, hobbling for a moment as I catch up to her, wheeling the suitcase behind me. “What about the towel?” I inquire.

“Bring it along, you might need it later,” she replies. Haste, it seems, is wearing at her sense of secrecy. Hisao's little slip already indicated a likely seaside excursion of some kind, so she isn't actually telling me anything new; though getting some sort of confirmation, albeit vague, is a relief.

Still, having not planned to bring my laptop, I want to go leave it in my room, but I don't think she'd give me that chance. Perhaps she thinks I'll need it for something, or figures I'd bring it anyway, or assumes I'd never leave without an outlet for my gaming addiction, but, whatever the reason, I'll bring it along just to placate her ire.

I just don't want to get kicked again, I think.

“Where's my pillow?” I jokingly ask as we exit into the cool, dimly lit morning.

“He's already waiting for the bus,” she replies with a grin.

“Ah, yes, that,” I remark absently. “He makes for a decent pillow,” I ramble, “Kenta's seen the results.”

Walking toward the gate, we're silent for a while. She apparently chose to dress for later in the day, wearing denim shorts and a blue tank-top. While I was in the shower, she added a white sweatshirt, but her legs are still mostly bare. The light chattering of her teeth is worrisome since I've seen her start a seizure that way, but I try to keep that kind of thinking from making me worry; she's probably just cold.

Don't pull a Tadao, Aiko! Can that be a thing, now? It sounds like it should be a thing. Too soon, maybe.

Approaching the gate, Amaya turns to me and calms the chattering for a moment to remark, “yeah, well, don't get too-too comfortable on that pillow.” Letting out a little yawn, she smirks at me playfully, commenting, “your mom would throw a fit if she saw what's in your drawer.”

“That was a joke from Nurse,” I explain, not feeling the least bit flustered, “he and Joyce conspired to give me that right after Tanabata.” Getting some sleep, erratic as it was, probably helped me finally find the words, and I feel better, but it seems to have been futile.

Looking at me sidelong with a furrowed brow and a sneer, she doesn't reply, but her eyes tell me she isn't convinced. It doesn't matter if she believes me, I guess. Should it come to a mudslinging contest, I can bring up what I saw in the shed – what I tried to forget I saw, anyway.

Don't think about it... Don't think about it! Don't think about it...! Dammit...

Being used to getting up fairly early for morning swims, the light fog and pervasive twilight are normal experiences for me, but the frazzled group of faces watching our approach don't seem nearly as comfortable. Zombie-like and slack-shouldered, they're all caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, and I wonder if any of them regret agreeing to this trip, but it's too late to back out now.

Leaning heavily against the wall, Kenta stands with his arms folded and his head bowed. Wearing black denim jeans and a green sweatshirt, his eyes are open, but unfocused. At his feet is a small gray suitcase about half the size of my own; I imagine he didn't bring much. Nodding at us as we approach, he smiles slightly, but quickly goes back to staring at the sidewalk – or toward the sidewalk, as it were.

To his right, Yoko wears a dark green, denim dress over a long-sleeved, beige blouse and white stockings. Beside her, there's a tall, black suitcase with a bright green sweater draped across it; seemingly in case she feels cold. Similarly perched against the wall and slouching down, which I've never seen her do, I think she's trying to seem shorter than Kenta. Leaning on her hands, palms out, with her ankles crossed out in front of her, she smiles sweetly as she sways slightly, her green eyes held shut. In this light it's difficult to tell if that's a blush on her face, but there's a lightness in her expression that makes me feel glad for inviting her.

Misha sits down against the wall, legs crossed, hands resting on her lap, wearing a peach-colored t-shirt with some kind of political slogan, white Capri pants, and white running shoes. Her hair is, as always, wrapped in those ridiculous drills, and I wonder how early she awoke to ensure their usual perfection. Next to her is a refrigerator-sized suitcase, though that may be a slight exaggeration, complete with stickers, tassels hanging from the various zippers, and another handbag slung over the handle; which I assume contains cosmetics. She also appears to be sound asleep; I'm slightly jealous.

Beside her, Shizune stands with her arms folded, faking an alert expression that's rimmed with fatigue, trying not to yawn. Her attire consists of a black and white, knee-length dress with a tasteful blue cardigan to cover her arms and shoulders, black stockings and simple flat black shoes. Her modestly-sized suitcase rests at her feet with another, smaller bag resting on top; both appear to be part of a matching set with black and white stripes that compliment her dress. Seeing my gaze fall on her, she smiles and nods at me, but I think she's using the motion to let out a creeping yawn.

In front of them, Naoko crouches down next to her little green suitcase. Looking a little cold, she's wearing a bright, yellow and orange floral-patterned sundress and a broad-rimmed white hat. Wrapping her bare arms around her knees, I can see a handbag slung across her shoulder swaying gently as she rocks back and forth on her toes, and I think she's using Hisao as a wind shield. Smiling broadly with her eyes closed, I wonder how long she can stay down there in what looks like an uncomfortable position.

Hisao looks a little drowsy, but he's used to being up almost this early, so he looks a lot less zombie-like. Standing at the edge of the sidewalk, he's wearing gray slacks, a long-sleeved white shirt and the usual sweater-vest; though he skipped the tie – how terribly informal of him. Resting beside him is a small, boxy, gray suitcase, which is about the same size as Kenta's; it's eerie how similar they are, actually. Slung over his shoulder is his school bag, though I doubt its usual contents are contained therein. Seeing us approach, he grins broadly and offers a wave, but doesn't otherwise move; I think he's being polite for Naoko's sake.

Tadao stands a few paces behind Hisao with one hand in his pocket and the other at his side, wearing a long-sleeved black shirt, black denim jeans and a black cowboy hat low over his brow. Next to him rests Amaya's pink monstrosity of a suitcase, and a jet black duffel-bag; the latter of which I assume is his. In the morning light, I catch the gleam from the little cross hanging over his collar, and see the even smile splayed across his tired-looking face.

With his eyes closed, you might think he'd fallen asleep standing up, but, as we approach, he grins and reaches up to push the hat higher on his forehead. “Mornin' little ladies,” he says in English, imitating a southern accent.

Theatrics seem to be his forte lately.

Before either of us can respond, Kenta perks up and comments, “I like how your girlfriend plans things, Tadao.” His tone lacks sarcasm thus far, so I assume he isn't finished. Deciding he has our attention, he adds, “two girls for every guy; how considerate.”

Tadao laughs while Hisao looks around nervously; inspecting the various girls' reactions. Yoko shakes her head and smirks strangely while Amaya sets a glare on Kenta that could melt steel. Naoko didn't hear it, of course, and Misha's asleep, but Shizune is looking at me like I should translate.

[You don't want to know,] I tell her, [suffice to say; he's being a guy.]

“Hey, no fair keeping the deaf girls in the dark,” Kenta complains. Having forgotten he knows how to sign, I'm a little surprised when he steps away from the wall, but I catch on when he repeats his comment for Shizune to see.

Her reaction is much less antagonized than I'm used to seeing. [You only have one good arm, though,] she points out, rolling her eyes. Her face brightens into a confident smirk as she adds, [so one of them gets three.]

“Touche,” Kenta says, not bothering to sign it as he returns to his spot on the wall. Bowing his head back down, he mumbles, “one's enough, I guess.”

Yoko glances at me, blushing a little and shaking her head. For a quick moment, I catch a faint smile from her, but it's hard to tell given how tired she looks. Glancing between me and Kenta, if I wasn't sure before, I'm almost certain she's harboring a crush my sarcastic friend – though Kenta seems blissfully oblivious.

Kenta oblivious? Yeah, probably not.

Amaya releases his smirking form from her glare and lets out a nervous laugh. “Well, we're all assembled,” she says through another yawn, “bus should be here any minute, so we might wanna wake Misha up.” As she speaks, she walks over and wraps her arm around Tadao's, dragging him down the sidewalk for a private conversation.

“Aww, but she's nice and quiet like that,” Kenta complains, perking up again, “can't we just carry her onto the bus?”

“Oh you'd enjoy that, Elf Lord,” I reply sardonically. Stepping around Naoko, I sign to Shizune, [how asleep is she?]

Turning her gaze down to her softly snoring friend, Shizune plants a foot against the dreamer's thigh and nudges her leg gently. Lolling her head groggily, Misha shifts away from the intruding foot, but shows no signs of waking. Looking back at me, she comments, [She's a heavy sleeper.]

[Let me try,] I sign, kneeling down beside the pink-haired dreamer. Reaching out, I put a hand on her shoulder and shake it softly, whispering sweetly, “Misha.”

Stirring a little, her eyes contract tighter and she mumbles something unintelligible, but shows no signs of waking. Louder and more forcefully, I lean a little closer, applying another stiff shake and remark, “Misha, the bus is almost here.”

Shizune holds up a hand to me and signs, [you might want to step back.]

Heeding her warning, I stand up and take a few steps away. Behind me, I hear Hisao whisper, “cover your ear.” Glancing over at him, I see his half-serious expression and just giggle.

Turning back, I watch as Shizune positions her hand right by Misha's ear, the other hand cupped around it to amplify the incoming sound. Snapping her fingers like a thunderbolt, she leaps away as Misha sits up straight and wide-eyed, exclaiming, “I'll have a parfait~!”

Her reaction is both very loud and odd, causing most of the group to stare blankly or just burst into laughter. Naoko notices the commotion and stands. Darting her eyes around, she follows our gaze and smiles at Misha's bewildered expression, waving giddily. Misha, not skipping a beat, joins in with her trademark, booming laugh, “Wahaha~!”

“Morning, Aiko-chan~!” she greets. Turning her bewildered gaze around at the gathered group, she nods sleepily at the others, absently saying their names, “Hicchan, Naocchan, um... Kencchan...” A sudden yawn stops her recounting, causing her to stretch and end by folding her arms and shivering a little.

Caught by a sudden infectious yawn, I offer a sleepy wave while Hisao greets her. "Morning sleepy-head," he says, "bus should be here soon.”

Chiming in, I look over at Kenta and explain, “Kenta wanted to carry you aboard.”

Taking Shizune's outstretched hand, Misha stands and rights herself. Once on her feet, she laughs again, “Wahaha~!” Yawning and stretching sleepily while grinning broadly, she blushes sweetly and turns toward Kenta to suggest, “you can still carry me if you want, Kencchan~!”

“Oh, that's alright,” Kenta replies, “wouldn't want to impose.” Glancing our way, he adds, “Hisao might, though.”

“He'll do no such thing,” I command, looking up at him sleepily. Pointing at myself with an outstretched thumb, I add, “he's my pillow.” Leaning close to him, I grab his arm and pull him to me, hearing his backpack rattling as he lurches over. Smiling at him sweetly, I rest my head on his shoulder and turn a pout toward Kenta.

Standing around sleepily on a street-corner, bantering playfully isn't how I expected my Saturday morning to start, but it has been good for a laugh thus far. Kenta's commentary keeps us alert, or at least prevents us from drifting back to sleep before the bus can arrive. Trying to follow the conversation, Naoko watches our banter and looks a little forlorn; Shizune is similarly frustrated. Misha seems a little distracted, checking her luggage, so I decide to translate the conversation for the two deaf girls.

Finally returning from their sidebar, Tadao and Amaya rejoin the group, and the nine of us wait with various levels of patience for the bus to break the silence. Noticing Yoko and Naoko seeming to get along, and seeing Yoko reply with tentative signs to a few of Naoko's slower-than-usual gestures, I'm glad I put them in a room together. Kenta watches them both with some interest, and even corrects a few of Yoko's attempted signs, saying she's picking it up as quickly as he expected – a rare compliment.

Hearing it before seeing it, the bus arrives shortly after five-thirty. Loading our larger bags into the compartment on its side before boarding, I shove the towel I'd forgotten was around my neck into my suitcase before Hisao hefts it into the bay, but I keep my laptop in hand. After helping Misha lift her giant suitcase into the compartment, which it barely fits into, Hisao leads me onto the bus. His backpack continues to rattle strangely as we walk down the aisle to seats near the very back of the bus, where he sits against the window and I slide in to his left.

Misha and Shizune sit together behind Hisao and I, mostly out of sight, with Yoko and Naoko slipping into the seat across the aisle from them. Glancing at Yoko, I note that she's all smiles; especially when Kenta sits in the narrow seat behind them. She and Naoko continue pass notes and sign sporadically, while Kenta peers over the seat offering approving nods and comments.

Taking the seat across the aisle from us, Amaya and Tadao look considerably more fatigued than they had while waiting for the bus. Undoubtedly, Amaya has been losing a lot of sleep planning this, and she passes out leaning against Tadao's side almost immediately. He, on the other hand, pulls a little notepad out of his pocket, tilts his hat downward, and starts writing something as the bus begins rolling forward.

Feeling the lack of sleep catch up with me, I lean heavily against Hisao, drawing a tired comment, “didn't sleep well, did you?”

Smiling and turning up to meet his eyes, I shrug and remark, “got quite the workout in my sleep.”

Chuckling softly, he wraps his arm around my shoulder, allowing me to rest against his side. “You might wake up blindfolded,” he mentions.

“Blindfolded?” I echo questioningly, already feeling my eyelids getting heavy.

“Blame Amaya; she wants a big reveal,” he explains, “just don't worry you're going blind, okay?” He rests his head against mine and adds, “your hair's damp; smells nice though.”

Too exhausted to reply, and feeling his radiating warmth, I just sigh and let my eyes close. This is nice and comfy, like a nice warm bed after a long day – except it's a warmhearted guy after a long night. There doesn't seem to be much difference between the two as I think about it now. Drifting into slumber, I feel safer on this bus leaning against Hisao than I usually do in my own bed.

The bed can't whisper sweetly in my ear, either.

Sleeping soundly as he bus rumbles over the countryside, I don't get to see the sunrise, but when I wake there's a bright smile greeting me. Groggily glancing around at the other passengers, I grin back at Hisao and ask, “how long was I out?”

“Few hours,” he replies, “you were drooling on my sweater.”

“Was not!” I retort, checking for evidence. He just laughs and looks out the window, apparently not minding the little wet spot that I find myself staring at, smirking apologetically. “Sorry,” I say.

Continuing to chuckle, he turns back and smiles. “I brought more than one sweater,” he says.

Yawning, I stretch and lean away, blinking my bleary eyes and peering past him out the window. The tree-filled country-side near Yamaku apparently melted into a cold, gray cityscape at some point, and I wonder whether their hints may have been leading me to some extremely incorrect suppositions.

Apparently noticing my disappointed expression, Hisao mentions, “we're just passing through the city.”

Meeting his eyes, I smile contentedly. “I figured as much since I didn't wake up blindfolded,” I say, “how much farther?”

Looking down at his watch, he narrows his eyes and blinks. “Couple hours at least,” he explains, turning back to me, “you could go back to sleep.”

“And drool on you some more?” I say questioningly.

“Well, if it helps you sleep,” he says, “I don't mind.”

Smiling at his offer, I shake my head. After the spotty sleep last night, and the restful slumber on the bus, I'm feeling alert enough to sit and talk for a while. “Unless you wanna sleep, I was thinking we could talk,” I say, looking at him with a hopeful grin.

“I actually slept last night, so I'm fine,” he explains, “what did you wanna talk about?”

His question forces me to think, but I'm pretty certain what I wanted to talk about. “Myself,” I say, glancing away shyly, “I realized I skipped most of the details.”

Looking back at me pensively, he nods and remarks, “okay, but I can't guarantee I won't fall asleep.”

Pouting, I shove his arm and retort, “better not! I stayed awake through your science lecture!”

Laughing and patting the air, he shifts around so he can regard me more easily and leans forward, prepared to listen. Starting with lighter parts, I explain about my childhood growing up with my bothersome little sister, and loving parents. He winces when I explain about the incident that left me deaf, and laughs loud enough to wake Misha when I tell him about being coaxed into the swimming pool wearing inflatable arm floats.

Telling him about school post-accident is hard, but he understands my sentiments. Recalling his experience being left in the hospital to wallow in misery, he knows how cruel kids can be; even young adults. He professes that he wouldn't have been among those who teased me, if given the opportunity, and I actually believe him – if only because of the person he is now.

Shedding light on that, I start explaining about my video game addiction, and why the ring-tone he chose for me is more appropriate than he might have thought. At his request, I get my laptop out and open it to show him the strange science fiction game Amaya pirated a few months ago. Unfortunately, the shaking of the bus, and the game's repeated crashing, limits our enjoyment of Portal.

When explaining about Dad's condition a little more, mostly how it affected me, he starts asking some questions about the disease, but I keep it vague. Fearing he might know the disease can be hereditary, I don't tell him the name of the condition, and I hope he doesn't know enough about brain disorders to figure it out. Laughing off the frustrated expression he directs at my evasive explanation, I don't want him to ever know about my Huntington's Disease – it will just hurt him.

...and me by proxy.

After that particularly heavy conversation, we're somewhat pleasantly surprised to see Misha leaning up over the seat, grinning dreamily. Noticing us notice her, she blushes and laughs, “Wahaha~!”

The rest of the passengers, except for our classmates, turn curious glances at the boisterous laughter, but Misha doesn't notice their disapproving looks. “Sorry, Hicchan~!” she beams, “watching you and Aiko-chan is just too adorable to ignore~!”

“And how long have you been eavesdropping?” Hisao asks in an accusatory tone.

Looking away shyly, she lets out a little yelp and frowns, but quickly recovers. “I heard a little,” she claims, “but nothing important, or anything I didn't already know, really, except-” Sighing she looks toward me and offers a sympathetic smile, “I'm sorry about your dad, Aiko-chan.”

Hisao frowns at her, but, seeing a maudlin frown like the one she put on yesterday afternoon, I cast him a smile to disarm his glare. If she heard me talking about Dad, I'm a little angry, but her concern is comforting. “It's okay,” I tell her, offering a smile, “thanks.”

Nodding and smiling brightly, she remarks, “I won't tell anyone about your illicit downloads, either~!”

Ah, good, because I was worried... wait, dammit!

Grinning nervously, I glance over at Amaya, who is still huddled against Tadao, fast asleep, and let out a stifled giggle. “We appreciate your complicity,” I say, looking back up at her golden doe-eyes. Holding my laptop up and smiling conspiratorially, I inquire, “wanna try it out later?”

She can't blackmail me if she's just as guilty!

Why I'm worried about that happenstance, I don't know, but seeing her face light up, I'm glad I made the offer. Perhaps I may not know a lot about Misha, but I actually do like how chipper she can be; especially when she knows there's a secret involved. “Wahaha~!” she laughs, drawing more irritated glances, but I just grin happily and wonder how much she knew about the pseudo-war Shizune and I fought over Hisao.

“I'll take that as a yes,” I say, offering a wink.

“Not on the bus, though, I get a little motion sickness~!” she replies, plopping back down in her seat.
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Last edited by Helbereth on Thu Nov 21, 2013 7:14 pm, edited 5 times in total.
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Helbereth
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Chapter 19 - Blindfolded (part 2)

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Shaking my head and shrugging, I look back over at Hisao and close my eyes to let the silly feeling pass. Opening them again, I feel like thanking Hisao for having invited them, but I think he already understood I would like the idea. Instead I just flip my hair and turn to look at Tadao, who seems to have fallen asleep resting his chin on Amaya's head.

Time to be a pest! Mwahaha!

“Psst!” I exclaim, smirking across the aisle. “Tadao!” I yell, loud enough to make him bob his head up and open his bleary eyes to glance around absently. Quickly looking away, I giggle into Hisao's arm and try to stop my shoulders from shaking. Hearing Tadao mumble groggily is almost enough to make me break out laughing, but I bite my lip and take a deep breath.

Watching Hisao, I see a knowing grin spread across his lips and he looks down at me with a roll of his eyes. “You're cruel,” he says, “that's probably why I like you.” Saying that, he rests his chin against my shaking head and sighs. “It's about time I should blindfold you, y'know,” he says, leaving his chin propped against me.

Looking around him out the window, I notice that aside from the power lines strung along the highway and a few homes dotting the grassy fields in the distance, it seems we've left civilization far behind. The sparse trees are mostly deciduous, though I can't really identify them specifically; especially not as they whip by the window at break-neck speeds.

The one thing I have noticed as we've rolled across the countryside is that our elevation has been declining gradually, causing the air pressure to slowly rise. Repeatedly yawning to pop my ear, I'm not sure what elevation we've come down to, but, the way we're speeding ever downward, I'm starting to think my guess about a seaside destination is probably the most accurate.

I still have no idea what we're going there to do, though.

The day itself has turned into a pleasantly bright one with puffy clouds lazing across the clear blue sky. There isn't a hint of stormy weather anywhere on the distant horizon, so maybe there's some truth to that old saying – the one about pink sunsets foretelling calm seas. Looking back at Hisao, though, the stormy expression I see makes me retract that thought.

Seeing my sudden glance, he hides his eyes and starts digging into his pants pocket. Looking at him quizzically, I blush a little when he smiles at me awkwardly, but then frown when he starts drawing out the tie he apparently decided not to wear. Inspecting its design, I can see why. Bright red with giant googly-smiley-faces printed all over it, I'm certain I've never seen him wear anything even remotely similar. Holding it up in front of me, he shrugs and asks an uncomfortable question wordlessly with his eyes.

“I trust you,” I say, nodding at the tie and trying not to laugh, “just don't mess up my hair.”

Smirking sardonically at my comment, likely because my hair is probably a mess after resting it against his chest for a few hours, he positions the tie across my forehead and wraps it around to the back. Tying it gently, he reaches around to the front and places his hands on the sides of my face, looking into my eyes with that warm smile. “You're gonna love it,” he says, leaning forward to kiss my forehead.

“I better!” I reply, “all the blame falls on you if I end up hating this place.” As he pulls the tie down over my eyes, I close them and smile. Not being able to see his reaction, I listen to his warm laugh, and grin contentedly as he runs a hand through my hair. “How do I look?” I ask, then quickly add, “be honest.”

“Pretty ridiculous,” he admits, “mostly pretty.”

Blushing at the compliment, I elbow his side, and sigh, “I must look like a Watchmen fangirl.”

Chuckling lightly, he sits back and I lean against him, feeling like I need the support now that I'm effectively blind. Not having much else to do as we sit there in silence, I wait patiently, trying to stay alert as the bus hurtles us toward our final destination. Soon after, the bus slows noticeably as we seem to enter a more crowded area. Holding onto Hisao's arm, we're repeatedly tossed left and right as the bus banks tight corners; we seem to be navigating some narrow streets.

Listening intently for telling sounds making their way over the din of engine noise, for a while nothing distinct makes it through. Now that we're moving along more slowly, though, I can isolate the thrumming engine noise, allowing me to hear muffled voices. Having not heard any docking bells or harbor announcements, we don't seem to be near a pier, so perhaps it's a crowd wandering along the nearby sidewalks; maybe a boardwalk. Smiling inwardly as I start to catch some faint, familiar bird calls, it doesn't take long to identify them as seagulls.

Seaside it is, but where from here?

About the same time, I start to notice a smell creeping into the cabin; a sharply salty smell that reminds me of summer days spent by the sea. Other pleasant odors waft by my nose indicating the presence of billowing smoke carrying the distinct, savory smell of seaside delicacies; thereby reinforcing the likelihood of us passing by a boardwalk. The absence of some smells, I realize, is as clear an indicator as the presence of others. The distinct fishy smell usually permeating the air around docks is pleasantly absent, so I assume we aren't headed for a boat trip; which would be a comforting thought.

The expert swimmer gets seasick, isn't that hilarious?

Reconciled with my already-proven balance problems, it's not actually that surprising. Dad used to pack plenty of anti-nausea medications after I spent most of a fishing trip leaning over the side of the boat, excavating my stomach contents. With luck, I won't have to go through that while we're here, but I'm willing to bet Yoko packed something if she knew we were going on a boat; she seems to collect pills the way I collect video games.

Slowing to a stop, the air brakes let out a familiar hiss. Waiting patiently, we don't seem to be stopped at a light, but rather at our destination. Feeling Hisao standing up beside me, I tentatively do so myself, clumsily grabbing for my laptop. Reaching for something to hold onto in my blindness, I feel his hand come up under my arm and hear him say, “I'll get your laptop.”

“We're here, I gather,” I say, smiling wistfully as he leads me out into the aisle.

“Yep~!” Amaya's chipper tone cuts the air, “did you guess where we are yet?”

Smirking toward her voice, I reply, “somewhere by the sea, I guess.” Smiling knowingly, I ask, “going for a boat trip?” Though, I'm fairly certain that isn't in the plan; thinking it might still be a possibility almost makes my stomach turn.

“I'm not telling~!” she says coyly, standing up beside me and taking my other arm. “Onward, Swooner!” she commands, and they start leading me down the aisle toward the exit, each holding one of my arms.

Feeling a rush of hot air coming from the open door, I steady myself by gripping Hisao's arm tighter. He and Amaya practically carry me down the steps to ensure I don't stumble in my blindness. As we exit into the hot sun, I hear an older man's voice, likely the bus driver, stifling a laugh and whispering, “so that's why you asked me not to announce our destination?”

Amaya hangs back, letting go of my arm, and I hear her say, “thanks, we've been keeping it from her for weeks.”

Weeks? How far back did they start planning this?

Turning my dumbfounded expression at Hisao, I'm guessing being unable to see my eyes makes reading my expression more difficult, but I can hear him laughing nervously. Evidently, he's been conspiring with my friends for quite a lot longer than I imagined, and kept it from me successfully until the little slip last night.

Marveling at his deviousness, I remark, “mysterious Hisao Nakai, planning an outing for a girl he wasn't even dating?” Pausing to let his face assume some kind of embarrassed expression I won't be fortunate enough to see, I add, “how presumptuous!”

“Blame Tadao,” he retorts, “it was his idea.”

Hearing stomping feet step off the bus behind me, I can almost hear Tadao's smirk as he comments, “you're the one who went along with it, Swooner.”

“You keep calling him that,” Kenta remarks in a quizzical tone, “is it Gaelic or something?” Hearing him hobbling down the steps, I remember he hasn't heard the story. Behind him I hear giggling that I think sounds like Yoko, and I assume Naoko is neaby.

Lightly stepping off the bus after them, Amaya relates the tale, “he keeps making Aiko swoon, ever since the festival.” Holding back a giggle, I feel her arm come under mine again. Tugging me toward the side of the bus, presumably to fetch our luggage, she adds, “the Swooner is as the Swooner does.”

“Ha!” Kenta exclaims, “pulling fast ones and making her fall over intentionally?” He wonders aloud, “why the hell is she dating him?” As he speaks, I can hear the side compartment opening, and a bunch of thumping noises as my friends start extracting their bags.

“It wasn't intentional,” Hisao protests, “she just seems to fall over when I'm nearby.” Feeling his weight shift, and hearing that rattling nouse coming from his backpack, I assume he just picked up his bag.

“Oh, so its coincidental sociopathy, I see,” Kenta chides, “let me know if you need a place to hide the bodies.” Kenta's voice gets more distant as he's apparently walking away; probably with his suitcase.

“So, which one of you fine gentlemen is going to help carry my bag~?” Misha's chipper voice asks as her heavy footfalls pass by. There's a short pause, during which everyone is silent, followed by her crestfallen sigh. “Aww~! I was just kidding Shicchan,” she protests, “I'm not being lazy~!”

Hisao inquires, “which one is her bag, again?” causing me to turn a curious glance on him.

He's not volunteering to help carry that gargantuan thing, is he?

Amaya replies, “the yellow one...” she trails off, leaving my side, “right here.” Then I hear a thump and the rattling of wheels.

Oh, my bag. Duh.

Hearing a loud bang, I flinch and try to leap away, expecting something worse to happen. Misha's gloriously explosive laugh fills the air, “Wahaha~!” Apparently her suitcase made it out of the compartment easily enough. “Sorry, Aiko-chan~!” she says as I hear the suitcase start to get wheeled away, “I wasn't expecting it to fly out like that~!”

Rolling my eyes under the blindfold feels like a strange thing to do, but I don't seem to have control over that reaction. Hisao directs my hand to the handle on my suitcase and says apologetically, “I can't carry both with just one hand. Amaya has your laptop.”

“You could just take the blindfold off,” I comment with a smirk.

“Nu-uh,” Amaya protests, sounding distant, “she's blind until I say she can see~!”

Feeling Hisao shrug, I shake my head and giggle. “Is it a long walk?” I ask, figuring I can at least be told that much.

“Across the boardwalk, then down a short dirt road,” he replies as we start following. “By the way, Naoko says she loves that blindfold,” he explains, chuckling, “Mom slipped it into my luggage by accident – it's one of my dad's.”

Imagining an older version of Hisao dressed in a nice suit with this silly tie hanging in front of him, I latch my hand around his arm and grin stupidly as we start walking along the sidewalk. Concentrating on not tripping, I'm not used to being blind, we walk rather slowly, but I can still hear our friends walking ahead of us; they're matching our pace I surmise.

After a few hundred feet of cement, Hisao warns of a few steps, and we climb up onto a wooden deck, which I assume is the boardwalk he mentioned. Walking along in total darkness, I can hear the thunderous whitecaps rolling into the nearby beach, and feel a sharp breeze carrying the salty smells of the sea. Along the way, I can smell a number of little food stands radiating a plethora of sweet, savory and trance-inducing odors; each one reminding me that I haven't eaten anything all day.

The six hour bus ride left me feeling exhausted, and apparently we're retracing the odorous seaside boardwalk. Walking along in the hot sun, smelling those intoxicating smells, I can't help but feel hungry. Turning to Hisao, I tug his arm and take a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. “Any chance we could stop for lunch?” I inquire, offering a pout.

Taking a moment before responding, I wonder if he's making that narrowed face, or if he's just caught off guard by my sudden inquiry. “You wanna sit out here, blind, and eat junk food?” he asks finally, sounding confused.

Thinking it over for a second, I suck in a breath and blow it out in exasperated fashion. “I can wait, I guess,” I reply, biting my lip. “There better be food where we're going, though,” I add with a playful smirk. Listening to him laugh off my concerns, I assume they have that planned, so I just focus on walking blindly, leaning a little closer to let him know I'm not mad.

Soon he warns of another small flight of steps, and the boardwalk ends – or we've stepped off of it, at least. The new path is sandy and soft, and it feels like the ground is unstable; my suitcase becomes difficult to drag along behind. We might be walking along a beach, but it's probably a path carved up above the high tide mark; something used by ATVs and foot-traffic.

After about a mile of soft terrain, though that's probably inaccurate, Hisao slows our pace as we start descending a small hill. Hearing excited voices ahead of us, I surmise our group has come to a stop. As we approach, I hear Amaya yell over the din of murmurs, “quiet! No hinting~!”

Leaving my side for the first time since the bus, Hisao walks around and takes my bag, then walks away. Hearing his padded footfalls moving ahead along the path, they're quickly drowned out by the chopping gusts of wind. A moment later, Amaya's hand finds my shoulder and I grin, biting my lip – trying not to giggle. She knows I'm ticklish there, so I can only assume this is intentional torture.

“Close your eyes, I'm gonna untie the blindfold,” she says, the warning in her voice being enough to ensure my complicity. Doing as I'm told, I keep my eyes closed as the blindfold is lifted away, and I don't even try to peek when it has been fully removed.

Standing there, fidgeting nervously, I hear footsteps coming up all around me; I assume the whole group is coming to stand close so they can see my reaction. Hisao's warm hand wrap around mine, calming my fidgeting, and making me smile. Feeling like I might sink into the ground if I don't get to see their surprise soon, I request, “may I open them now?”

Amaya's playful shove makes me giggle as she whispers, “open them~!”

Lifting my eyelids slowly, expecting to be blinded by bright sunlight, I glance forward and see seven smiling faces watching my wandering gaze. For once, I'm the one with the wonderment on my face as I scan the area behind them and see a familiar type of wooden structure standing on stilts over a sea of white sand.

A bungalow like the one my uncle owns stands atop a foundation of massive wooden pillars, complete with a cement patio with a set of soft-padded furniture, a big shady umbrella and and barbecue pit. On the other side of the house, visible through the columns, I can see a well-tended garden wrapping around the front of the little building, and I find the wistful smile on my face hard to hide – I don't want to hide it, anyway.

Dashing through them, I run up the sandy pathway and then up the wooden staircase leading to a broad wooden deck that wraps around the circumference of the house. Giddily leaning against the railing, I smile down at my dumbstruck friends and yell, “it's perfect~!”

“She likes it,” Kenta says with a crooked grin, “she really likes it.”

The roaring whitecaps drown out most of the other comments, but the entire group is caught somewhere between relieved and excited. Naoko, especially, looks like she's about ready to explode, and I'm sure the only thing stopping her from whooping is the fact that she was born mute. Misha's boisterous laugh echoes across the beach, but there aren't any bystanders to turn curious glances.

Hisao's face, as he looks up at me, has that same wonderment written on it as the night I showed him my secret hiding place. Being the first one to follow after me, he walks up the staircase, keeping his gaze on me, even though I'm sure there are a hundred other things he could be looking at in such a beautiful location. Standing beside me, he leans against the rail and finally looks away, out toward the rolling waves, grinning widely. “I knew you'd like it,” he says, and I don't know why I ever doubted his resolve.

Bumping him with my hip, I grin widely and blush as a few friendly faces turn to watch, but suddenly I don't care. Leaning toward him, out lips meet and I finally get the whooping and cat-calls I had missed from our first kiss out on the sidewalk at Tanabata. Flushing deep red, we both look away shyly as Amaya, Tadao and Kenta join in a harmonious, “Aaaah!”

Seeing Yoko walking by, her bright smile is accompanied by a similar blush. Naoko's silent nods of approval, though, make me turn away; her bright smile being too much to bear. Misha's booming laugh thunders over the crashing waves, even as she struggles up the stairs with her enormous suitcase. Shizune offers a slight nod as she walks by, smiling shyly. Until now, I don't think any of them have seen us kiss, so their reactions are somewhat expected.

Glancing back at Hisao, his face is still bright red, so I lean over and kiss his cheek tenderly, lingering for a moment and whispering, “you're adorable when you're embarrassed.”

“You're just adorable,” he replies, turning around to look into the bungalow. “We ought to head inside before all the beds are taken,” he suggests. After a second, his eyes widen and he sputters, “I mean for-”

“Quiet, Swooner,” I chide, grabbing his hand, “I meant what you knew.”

Leading him through the partially glass door, I smile as we walk in onto a terracotta floor laid down under the brightly-lit kitchen. Cherry-wood cabinets line the outer walls, except for the side we came from, which consists of a bank of bay windows. Under the windows there is a long bench with plush padding and an exorbitant number of throw pillows; so you can sit and watch the sunset from within the air-conditioned beach house. Hearing our footfalls reverberate off the pots and pans hanging over an island in the middle of the large culinary space, I imagine Mom would adore this little bungalow.

Across from us, through a high archway with decorative crown molding, is a large living room, filled with plush contemporary seating arranged around a gigantic flat-screen television, which Kenta has already commandeered. Removing our shoes, and piling them off to the side with the rest, Hisao and I walk over to join our friends as their eyes scan around the room.

Larger than the kitchen, the living room walls are painted a light yellow that reflects the sunlight cascading through the enormous windows and french doors. Hanging from the high ceiling, a pair of decorative crystal chandeliers laze below a pair of quietly spinning ceiling fans that dangle from the exposed wooden rafters under a pair of enormous skylights.

One corner of the room is dominated by a terracotta-tiled bar with a butcher-block counter-top. Complete with its own small refrigerator and sink, laid out with various fruits, and stocked with jars containing nuts, pretzels, and other finger-foods, it's suspiciously bereft of alcohol; I assume the bar was prepared for teenage guests before we arrived. The other side opens into a hallway that leads down toward what I imagine are the bedrooms and baths.

The white-carpeted floor and mahogany-colored moldings contrast starkly, but, in the voids between, there are beautiful splashes of color coming from a few brightly-colored modern paintings. The plush chairs and couches, each of a different hue that seems to have been sourced directly from the decorative art, look comfortable enough to sleep in, and expensive enough to be wary. It seems whoever paid for this getaway, they spared no expense.

Immediately absorbed by the bluish glow coming from the television, Kenta's face is drawn into a ridiculous grin as he slowly steps backward toward one of the plush satellite chairs. Practically tumbling into the seat, his eyes remain locked on the image of a newscaster reciting some mundane local story about an upcoming fireworks display. Seeing him so captivated, I glance over and notice that both Tadao and Hisao are similarly drawn to the television – like moths to a flame.

Is that reaction hard-coded into the male chromosome, I wonder?

Ignoring the spectacle, Amaya stands in front of the television, which causes the three boys to duck around trying to see past her. Sighing, she reaches behind her and presses the power button, canceling the image and drawing a chorus of groans. “We have sleeping arrangements to discuss,” she says, placing her hands on her hips, “there are three bedrooms, so we'll have to share.”

“Okay,” Kenta begins speaking immediately, signing simultaneously. “Me, Yoko and Misha in one room, Hisao, Naoko and Aiko in another, then Tadao, Amaya and Shizune in the last,” he describes, apparently having thought about this extensively. Planting a hand against his chin in mock concentration, he shoots his gaze at the floor and comments, “wait, that wouldn't work...”

This is going to get worse before it gets better.

Turning a curious glance around the room, ignoring our befuddled or disdainful expressions, he continues his suggestion unabated, “Switch Shizune and Misha since I know Amaya and Shizune don't get along; that way we can each have our own little harem.” Upon finishing his diatribe, he nods approvingly toward Hisao and Tadao. All six girls, some more playfully than others, turn disapproving glares at Kenta.

Hisao watches with a detached expression, trying to look innocent as he smirks slightly at Kenta's suggestive commentary. Looking toward me, he shakes his head and signs, [I had nothing to do with this.] Nodding my response, I wouldn't believe Kenta had his permission to include him in this farce, even if he produced written proof – he could fake it easily enough.

Tadao is much less subdued in his reaction; blatantly nodding and grinning broadly as he removes his hat and fans himself dramatically. Turning his lascivious smirk at Misha, she responds by holding up her hand and shaking her head emphatically; denying his suggestion. Amaya, luckily, doesn't see their little exchange, or she ignores it, at least.

That could have been bad.

Glancing around and smirking derisively, Kenta continues explaining, “I'm willing to use a drawing system to figure out which two girls go with each of us.” Walking over and reaching into his suitcase, he produces a baseball cap and says triumphantly, “I brought a hat to use for just such an occasion!”

Finding his suggestion hilarious rather than offensive, I simply laugh and drop down onto a plush, green chair, pulling my suitcase over to the side so I can watch the sarcastic lad take his lumps. Amaya stomps over and kicks his shin, while Yoko merely stays put and glares at him; the most disapproving gesture I've ever seen her make.

“Is that a no on the first part?” Kenta inquires sardonically, “or the second part?”

Naoko walks over with a sweet smile and snatches the hat out of his hand, looking it over for a moment, then throwing it at his face before storming away to sit in a bright orange chair. Misha and Shizune, not to be outdone, each pick up the nearest available weapons, throw-pillows, and toss them stiffly, striking him in the head and back respectively.

Her anger spent, Amaya rolls her eyes as she crosses the room to take a seat on the arm of my chair, keeping Kenta in her deadly gaze as she folds her arms. “Anyway!” she exclaims, sighing with exasperation, “the boys will all be in the same room, while the six girls will split into two groups.”

Whispering in Amaya's ear, I suggest, “make sure Naoko and Yoko are in the same room.”

As her hand raises to her chin, she nods, understanding my suggestion. “Yoko Naoko and myself in one room; Aiko, Shizune and Misha in the other,” she says, but there seems to be dissent coming from a strange source; Shizune. Well, that's not exactly strange, but the arrangement didn't seem problematic where she's concerned.

Stepping over to the side of the chair, she signs close to her chest, [Yoko should have two tutors. I volunteer.] Her expression seems to indicate she was planning this all along.

Staring at her confusedly, I inquire, [how did you even know?]

Assuming her bobcat grin, she signs, [you just confirmed my suspicion.]

Ah, well... well played.

[Besides, it's my job to know,] she adds, glancing over at Yoko and smiling. Looking back, she nods toward Naoko and signs, [I suspected when you extended the invitation to your former tutor.]

Hardly surprised by this development, I know I'm not the only one who plots to manipulate my friends. Shizune seems excited to be volunteering to help Yoko, and that's an encouraging thing to see; as judgmental as she can be, when she puts faith enough in someone, it's likely deserved. That may be why she became so attached to Hisao right away; seeing something in him that perhaps even he didn't know. Thinking back, I did very nearly the same thing, which probably means I'm a bit like Shizune.

No wonder we get along.

Amaya, not understanding sign, of course, looks to me for an explanation. Keeping my voice low, I tell her, “she wants to help Yoko, too.”

“Are you three done comparing cup sizes?” Kenta blurts questioningly, “or should I go find a ruler?” At this point, I'm pretty sure he's trying to get someone to kick him in the teeth – or someplace more sensitive.

“Just revising the bunk plans,” Amaya retorts, trying to sound chipper in the face of Kenta's obnoxious antagonism. “Shizune will bunk with Naoko and Yoko,” she explains, “which means Aiko and I will be spending the night with Misha.” Looking over at Yoko, I see her perplexed expression and wonder what she must be thinking.

We just put her in a room with not one, but two deaf girls.

Naoko is already happily bounding over and taking Yoko by the arm to lead her toward the bedrooms, so I don't get much chance to see whether she's alright with the idea. Following them after picking up her own luggage, Shizune smiles over her shoulder and nods confidently. Watching them walking down the hall toward the bedrooms, there's a lightness in Yoko's steps indicating that she's entertaining the prospect, at least.

Glancing over at Misha, I notice she hasn't made a peep since we got inside, and didn't protest when Shizune volunteered to join Yoko and Naoko. Expecting I already know her answer, I inquire, “Shizune told you her plans, I assume?”

“Yep~!” she replies, grinning widely, “We played a game of checkers to see which one would volunteer~!”

Sounds about right.

“Wahaha~!” she booms with laughter, then levels a serious face at me. Choosing to sign instead of speak, she adds, [I think she let me win~!]

Amaya can't read sign, at least not most of it; though I do wonder how much she figured out having been around Tadao and myself for so long. The boys are all skilled at reading sign, but, since Kenta turned the television back on, they completely miss her additional comment. That means Misha, ever surprising over the past few days, just chose to sign a secret message for my eyes only; something she doesn't want anyone else to know, judging by the conspiratorial smirk she's wearing.

Protecting Shizune's interests like a good friend should.

[I'll never tell,] I reply cryptically. Kenta notices my message and almost says something, but I shoot him a scornful glance and he bites his lip. Realizing he already put himself on thin ice, or perhaps just to placate my mocking ire, he chooses not to ask.

“We should probably pick a room before the boys peel themselves away from the TV and find the better one,” Amaya says, hopping off the arm of the chair and fetching her gaudy, pink suitcase.

Now Kenta chooses to add his sardonic commentary. “If you girls start getting hot and heavy in there,” he says lasciviously, pausing for dramatic effect. Pointing at the other two boys, he continues, “feel free to ask one of us to join you!”

In response, Amaya lifts her heavy suitcase and levels it toward Kenta's head as she walks toward the bedroom, hitting him with a dull thump. Following the motion, Kenta sinks sideways into the couch and crosses his eyes, hanging his tongue out of his mouth and giggling stupidly. “Thank you ma'am, may I have another!” he yells, causing everyone in the room to bust out laughing – even Amaya.

Standing and gripping my own suitcase by the handle, I nod toward Misha. “You need any help with that?” I ask, indicating her giant suitcase with my outstretched hand.

“Nope~!” she replies, grabbing for a similar handle, “I get all my workouts carrying heavy stuff around for Shicchan~!” True to her word, she lifts the suitcase off the floor; though I should already have realized she can do that, considering she had to carry it up the stairs outside. Setting it back down, she laughs, “Wahaha~!” and follows Amaya toward the bedrooms.

Looking at Hisao, I raise an eyebrow at his drone-like expression. Glancing at the television, I notice Kenta has apparently found a baseball game, and the three of them are suitably absorbed. Walking around behind the couch, I lean down and kiss Hisao on the cheek, temporarily breaking his trance, and whisper, “Don't get too distracted, there's a billion things I wanna show you out on that beach.”

Grunting an affirmation, he nods absently; his attention span apparently spent. Rustling his hair, I stand and turn toward the bedrooms. Smiling broadly, I marvel at how simple this idea must have been for my friends to decide upon. Having told them plenty of stories about my uncle's beach-house, all the fond ones, anyway, I wasn't surprised when I opened my eyes and saw this place standing up over the beach – more like nostalgic.

Part of me wishes Midori were here, and Mom – and Dad. Having eight of my closest friends, my surrogate school-family, along for the trip is just as good, though. Most of them haven't been to a place like this, I imagine, so I'll probably be showing them the kind of wonders I discovered along the sandy southern beach in my youth.

I'm still in my youth, aren't I?

Shaking my head as I follow Misha into the room Amaya chose, I sigh contentedly. This weekend, as I suspected, will be a lot of fun. Perhaps I should remain calmly objective, but, being this far from school, the logical part of my brain is losing the battle. Whatever happens, I plan to enjoy this weekend for all its worth; no bad memories allowed.

I can't wait to tell Dad's pirate story!
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Part of me just wanted to start tearing at the Lord of the Rings for references, but I decided not to go that route. The Nine went out from Yamaku. Might have been funny, but it didn't really sit well. Wanted to spend some time visiting Kenta's mind, which is apparently rather unfiltered. Exploring a bit about Misha -whom Aiko has known for a while, but not really- is intentional. Establishing a budding trio between Yoko, Kenta and Naoko was also on my list of goals.

There's a dark little part of me that wanted a pseudo-cameo of Lilly somewhere in this story, but, since she's so far outside Aiko's perview, and I couldn't drum up a plausible reason for a Council meeting, I decided to have a vicarious moment where Aiko is blind - being led across the beach. The parrot will make sense, eventually
Last edited by Helbereth on Thu Nov 21, 2013 7:14 pm, edited 6 times in total.
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