Meanwhile I wait [Hisao x original character]

[Dawnstorm]

Thanks for the replies everyone.

As for Rin's classroom being 3-4, that seems to be correct. I just re-played Desperate Glory, and in it Hisao asks Nomiya whether he asked for Rin in her "homeroom next door", that's either 3-2 or 3-4, I imagine, and 3-2 is Lilly's (I'm pretty sure). Or, wait, it could be 3-1, if odd classes are on one side of the corridor and even ones on the other, but from what I see in most anime classrooms tend to be lined up all on one side with a window front on the other (there's surprisingly little variation, so I wonder whether that's just a cliché or actually rooted in reality. Hm...).

Anyway, the exact location isn't much of a problem; I can get around this with designed indeterminacy. I'll make up a homeroom teacher, then.

Thanks again.

[Mirage_GSM]

Well one of them is empty because that's where Rin likes to hide out sometimes, and we're explicitly told it's currently going unused. I suppose it could be 3-5 or higher, but I thought it was stated somewhere there are only 4 classrooms in the hall. Hmm.

I am sure there are a lot more empty classrooms at Yamaku where Rin might hide out from time to time.

[Dawnstorm]

For story-post navigation please refer to the index post.

Encounters #1 (Concluded)

First year Kitagawa harasses first year Ikezawa. Cornered, Ikezawa snaps and pushes her tormentor away, who – unluckily – falls down a staircase and sustains minor injuries. Incidents like this one aren't rare. Presumably, most of them will not come to the attention of Yamaku's administration, as the students work them out amongst themselves. In this case, a week's suspension is as much a time-out as it is an official reproach. It is a calming-down period; neither of the two students involved would have wanted to return to class straight away. This is certainly true for Ikezawa, who hates being looked at and frightens easily. Mutou doesn't know Kitagawa; and Takeuichi has revealed little more than that she keeps to herself.

To finish off the one week period, they have an apology session. The principal knows what he is doing: If things go well (or well enough), the ceremony provides closure for the students involved. The event is over and done with. They can move on. If things do not go so well, this event will serves as a reminder that Yamaku, for all the freedoms it grants, does not condone certain behaviour: any further offence will not be treated as lightly, though specifics are left to the respective students imagination. Finally, the respective homeroom teachers get to observe how their students behave under pressure and deal with conflict. This provides valuable information for further dealing with them. These sessions make sense. They are useful. Overall, the chances are good that they serve social coherence here at Yamaku. They are a valuable in mitigating, if not resolving conflicts. Mutou hates them.

Right now, Ikezawa is walking beside him, maybe half a pace behind, her scarred side facing the wall. Earlier today, Mutou has briefed her on what to expect, on what is expected of her. She barely responded beyond “yes” or “no”. She was sitting opposite of him, a seating order he now thinks was not optimal – too confrontational. They should have sat at an angle to allow them to look past each other while still holding a conversation. Luckily, the seating order in the principal's office will reflect this. To his relief, Ikezawa has never once tried to wriggle out of the session. Even now, she seems determined to take responsibility. Ikezawa seems a strange bundle of responsibility and anxiety, stepping back when she needs to, stepping forward when she has to. In the future, it may be best to give her the space she needs; that way she could conserve the energy she needs for the emergencies. She had a week now, and as far as Mutou can tell (which is none too far, if he is honest), she is prepared.

Finally, they stop shortly before the principal's office. The door is open, and he wants to give Ikezawa a moment to collect herself. Mutou turns towards her: She stand hunched, looks to the ground. He's still uncertain how to handle that. “Well, here we are,” he says.

“Y-yes.”

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

They walk on, through the open door. The principal sits behind his desk. As always, four chairs are arranged before the desk, two on either side at an angle, so that desk and chairs almost describe a trapezoid. That way, should anyone stare straight ahead, they face no-one, and with a minimal turning of the head, everyone can face everyone. Takeuchi and his student have already arrived. Everyone rises. They exchange bows, and then take their seat.

The principal makes his introductory speech. Mutou listens for cues more than content; he has heard variations of this speech often enough. Instead, he glances at the other student, Kitagawa, whom he hasn't seen before. She doesn't have the defiant look he has half-expected. Instead, she looks intently at the principal and listens. Or pretends to listen? Her rapt attention might also be a way to avoid facing Ikezawa. Is she feeling guilty? Mutou's gaze strays sideways, on to Takeuichi. For a brief moment, their eyes meet. Then Takeuichi adjusts his glasses and looks away.

The principal's speech boils down to how their frustrations may be understandable, but how one should let frustrations dictate one's actions, and how a school like Yamaku cannot exist without the efforts of everyone involved. Beside Mutou, Ikezawa sits stiffly, looking at her knees. Eventually, the principal talks about the suspensions, about thinking time, and then the word “apologise” falls: “Miss Kitagawa, Miss Ikezawa, you have – I am told – both agreed to apologise for your involvement in this affair. I will shortly ask you to do so. But before that I would encourage you to ask questions, or raise issues that may be problematic you. If anything is on your mind, please do not hesitate to bring it up.”

Silence. Not many students bring up issues at that point. Ikezawa will want to get this over with as soon as possible. Kitagawa? Mutou studies her. Is it his imagination, or have her eyes narrowed slightly?

“Well, then,” the principal continues, “it is best we take apologies in the order of the contentious events. Miss Kitagawa?”

Kitagawa faces the principal with little of the awe a first year would normally feel. She closes her eyes briefly, then turns to face Ikezawa. Her gaze swerves towards him, lingers on him for a moment, before it refocuses on Ikezawa. She rises, and – to Mutou's surprise – returns her attention to the principal. “I apologise for disrupting the peace here at Yamaku. I am aware that running such an institution is not easy, and through my selfish actions I have made it even harder. I will do my best not to cause further problems.” She bows, and keeps her head lowered for just a little too long. When her head comes up again, the principal nods, and she turns once again towards Ikezawa. She seems strangely stiff, now. Mutou is quite sure authority means little to this girl; her posture reveals no extra-ordinary respect. But the timing of her bow? Mutou couldn't tell if it was subtle mockery or a sense of time tainted by nerves. It is clear, though, that Ikezawa makes her more nervous than the principal did. Why? “And I apologise to Miss Ikezawa,” she continues, her voice firm. “What I have done is inexcusable. Please know that my words were calculated to maximise discomfort, not truth. I am, myself, in a bad place, and you presented an easy target. Having been at the receiving end of such behaviour in the past, I have no respect for it. I disgraced myself and discomforted you, in the process. It is for the latter that I apologise.” She bows again, but this time the timing is impeccable.

A short silence follows, and before everyone can focus on Ikezawa, she speaks:“I-it's okay,”.she says. “I-I'm sorry, too.” Simple words. She does not rise from her chair, she does not bow. She is trembling slightly. Mutou hopes Kitagawa will see and honour the effort.

Kitagawa stands and looks at her, and for a while it looks as if she was going to speak again, but then she nods just once and sits down. The apologies are done with, but she seems... more tense than before. Mutou cannot read her. He turns to Takeuchi for a clue, but Takeuchi is busy watching her. Mutou can see the worry in his body language, and this, in turn, worries him. Takeuchi never lets down his mask of serenity. Is she that difficult? That unpredictable?

The principal looks around the room, and then: “So, if we are finished...”

“No...” The word is barely more than a breath, but the principal pauses and turns.

“Miss Kitagawa?”

She doesn't look up. She is as stiff as Ikezawa now. Her hands are balled into fists. “I thought I could do this, but I can't.”

With a calm authority practised through years, the principal speaks: “Please explain.”

“I do not retract my apologies. I've done wrong, but... I can't stand it. I can't stand hearing her say things like 'it's okay,' or 'I'm sorry, too'. I, in her place, wouldn't have said that. It's... I know what it's like to be on the receiving end. It's deadening. Eventually, you lash out. And that is wrong? Accepting an apology like that is like... like... like siding with the bullies. It's false. It's insincere. I'm in the wrong here, and she isn't. And if it that isn't so, then why am I apologising in the first place. None of this makes sense. Nothing will change. I will avoid her, and she'll avoid... almost everyone. I know people are mean. She knows people are mean. And now I know I can be as mean. And I'm supposed to be glad that she apologises? How is that supposed to work as relief? Accepting her apology is a lie. Being apologised to is making me feel worse. It's as if there's no way out. You can't take it, and you can't defend yourself. You're utterly and completely at the mercy of your tormentors. I just don't get it.”

The principal, bless his patience, nods. “Accepting an apology can be as hard as giving one. Apologising is a two-way road. At least here in Yamaku, it is about understanding each other. We are not looking for a villain. We are trying to avoid future incidents.” He turns to Ikezawa. “Miss Ikezawa, maybe it would help Miss Kitagawa if you were to explain why you apologised.”

Ikezawa trembles. Nobody disturbs the silence until she speaks. “I d-don't want to be angry f-forever. It m-makes me s-strange ins-side...” Her stutter is more severe than usual.

A strange smile appears on Kitagawa's face. Her voice is almost tender. “You still worry about being strange inside? I have gone strange inside a long time ago. I want to try something. I want to say a sentence and hear how you feel about it. If you agree to this, you can ask me anything, and I will answer even if I'd rather not. But beware, I will be as honest as I can be. So don't ask questions you can't bare to have answered.”

“Okay.” No hesitation. Her trembling has let off, but now she looks incredibly tense.

“Fine, so here's the sentence: 'If I apologise, they will go away and leave me alone.'” Kitagawa has spoken, and the room falls silent. Takeuchi leans back in his chair to have a better look at Kitagawa. The principal's expression doesn't change at all. Ikezawa is silent for a long while. Then: “N-not always. Sometimes you have t-to lock the door.”

“You don't have to answer, but I have to ask,” Kitagawa says. “Are you sure you're sorry?” She raises her little finger, bandaged and stabilised, for everyone to see, but Ikezawa is only looking down. “Does apologising make you feel less stranger inside? Or is this something you have to do so others leave you alone?”

“I-I shouldn't have... pushed you d-down the stairs. I shouldn't...”

“No? What else could you have done? I was in the zone – and I'll stop here, because I'm getting frightfully close to that zone – but I can tell you I wouldn't have stopped.”

“I sh-shouldn't...” It looks like she's slipping into some sort of fit, but she stops mumbling instead and her breath slows down. And then she surprises everyone in the room. “W-why were you not surprised?”

For a moment, Kitagawa stares at her blankly. Then: “Oh, is that your question?”

“Y-yes.”

“I'm not sure what you are asking.”

“W-when you saw my scars, you were not s-surprised. Why?”

“Oh, I see.” Kitagawa chuckles. “I hate to tell you, but I was as surprised as anyone. But where I come from it's not wise to show your feelings. Basically, being surprised doesn't catch me off guard, so it doesn't show on my face.”

“Oh.” Ikezawa looks down. “I was c-confused. N-normally, people are surprised and then try to be nice. You were... different.”

“Don't misunderstand,” Kitagawa says. “Your scars aren't half as hideous as you think. When I apologised I said that I didn't mean the things I said the way I said them, didn't I? For example, I don't think you're a monster. Not at all. It's just... you're so apologetic. Your apologising with... with every gesture, and I can't stand that. It makes me angry. I'm containing my anger right now. I really only want to run away. Please understand. I don't hate you, but no good can come from us meeting.” Even Kitagawa is looking down now. Her knuckles are white with the strain. “Do you understand?”

Strangely, Ikezawa calms down. “Y-yes.”

And the office falls silent. Not even the principal seems to know what to do. Kitagawa has taken charge of the situation and the result? What it resembles most is a non-aggression pact. Mutou is unsure whether that is a good or a bad thing. Ikezawa doesn't tremble, but she is strangely subdued. What has just happened? Normally, the students walk off one after the other, glad that the situation is over. But this? It looks like a key moment for both of them. And yet they basically agreed to ignore each other and not resolve anything.

Eventually, the principal dismisses them with some formalisms. Mutou and Ikezawa leave first. Once outside, Mutou feels like he should say something. “You've done well,” he says, but it sounds empty to him. Ikezawa doesn't react. They walk along the corridor, and when they reach the stairs, Mutou stops. “You can take the day off,” he says, but again Ikezawa doesn't react. He adds, “If you like.”

She looks up at him for a long time, then closes her eyes. “Th-thank you.” And without further words she turns and walks away. As Mutou watches her retreating back, he realises he has just set a precedent. And he is completely unsure if he has done the right thing. Maybe he should have waited for her to make a move? When will she come back to class? How will she behave? How will she face her classmates? So far, she has always been early. Mutou has often wondered why. He thinks it is because entering a classroom full of people draws attention. But something in her seemed... different just now. A little less worried, perhaps, about her appearance; a little more worried about her behaviour.

Mutou takes a deep breath and looks up the stairs. Supervised self-study can't last forever; he has a job to do. Quantum theory might be ultimately incomprehensible, but at least there are formulae that help you build a laser. His students minds? A black hole that sucks up all meaning. He's come frightfully close to the event horizon today...

***

When they leave the principal's office, Kitagawa says, “I need to go somewhere, and... scream.”

This sounds like an understatement to Takeuchi. “I have no objection,” he says. “Be sure to come back one day.”

She is taller than he is, so, when she turns, she looks down at him. “One day?”

“Preferably, soon. Maybe today.”

“Are you sure you are a teacher?”

“Forcing you to go to class now teaches you nothing,” he says, adjusting his glasses. “And I admit to having been worried you'd snap right in there. So, off you go, preferably to somewhere lonely, and do what you must. Hurt no-one, destroy nothing, and come back. I don't need details.” He might even be proud of the restraint she has shown in there, but he is too confused to tell. Effectively, she has just told a girl who thinks that everyone hates her for her scars that it's not her scars, it's herself. That might even be a good thing. In the long run. Interestingly, she has stayed within the boundaries that their honourable principal has set. Honesty is quite admirable, isn't it? Takeuchi cannot tell if Kitagawa has deliberately called their bluff, or if she simply did her best not blow up in there. Maybe this is just who she is? Or can be?

Kitagawa looks at him some more, then nods and runs off. He only barely stops himself from calling, “No running in the hallways.” But an inside joke based on the reports he has read might not be a good idea right now. Kitagawa Miyako radiates an overwhelming aura of sadness, pain, despair. As if those feelings are all she has left to share. All of that a furious projectile hurled into the morass of shame that is Ikezawa Hanako's aura, where it lands and sinks at the same speed as praise probably would. The universe has a strange sense of humour to let them meet like that. Takeuchi says a silent prayer of thanks to any god who might listen. They could have both been in his class.

[nemz]

I'm guessing you're British, Canadian or Australian? Some interesting spelling here and there otherwise...

Mutou hates them.

Why?

If anything is on your mind, please dod not hesitate to bring it up.”

extra d?

“Fine, so here's the sentence: 'If I apologise, they will go away and leave me alone.'” Kitagawa has spoken, and the room falls silent. Takeuchi leans back in his chair to have a better look at Kitagawa. The principal's expression doesn't change at all. Izekawa is silent for a long while. Then: “N-not always. Sometimes you have t-to lock the door.”

I'm pretty sure you changed speaker there, so you need a new paragraph.

It's just... you're so apologetic. Your apologising with... with every gesture, and I can't stand that.

I do like this motivation, as it shows her to be a cruel but ultimately well-meaning trickster sort of character, possibly a refuge from a Neil Gaiman novel. Too bad Hanako didn't take it to heart earlier, as that's in large part what makes people treat her with the kid gloves she hates.

This sounds like an understatement to Takeuchi. “I have no objection,” he says. “Be sure to come back one day.”

I like this little guy too... seems like he belongs in a monastery rather than a school though. Probably a vegan that does Tai Chi on his lunch breaks, but then again he could be the type to just bottle it all up then go to the gym after work and make sweet hate to a speedbag. Either way I picture this dude somehow being a secret badass to overcome his 'little man syndrome'.

[Bagheera]

I do like this motivation, as it shows her to be a cruel but ultimately well-meaning trickster sort of character, possibly a refuge from a Neil Gaiman novel. Too bad Hanako didn't take it to heart earlier, as that's in large part what makes people treat her with the kid gloves she hates.

I think she did, actually. She doesn't know what to do about it, but at least now she's thinking about it. It might be this encounter that made her more receptive to events in the game, vs. closing down altogether as we see in her "neutral" end.

I like this little guy too... seems like he belongs in a monastery rather than a school though. Probably a vegan that does Tai Chi on his lunch breaks, but then again he could be the type to just bottle it all up then go to the gym after work and make sweet hate to a speedbag. Either way I picture this dude somehow being a secret badass to overcome his 'little man syndrome'.

I would agree if not for the fact he also appears to be a mass of confusion after the meeting.

[Dawnstorm]

I'm guessing you're British, Canadian or Australian? Some interesting spelling here and there otherwise...

I'm Austrian (my mother tongue is German). British English is the version I have the closest affinity with. Probably because of David Bowie and Monty Pythons, but also because many of my favourite authors are British.

Why?

Difficult situations that demand a sensitivity that goes beyond his comfort zone. I imagine he tends to wait for the right moment to bring things up; he can't do that with a specific date to keep.

If anything is on your mind, please dod not hesitate to bring it up.”

extra d?

So that's where it went, the little bugger.

“Fine, so here's the sentence: 'If I apologise, they will go away and leave me alone.'” Kitagawa has spoken, and the room falls silent. Takeuchi leans back in his chair to have a better look at Kitagawa. The principal's expression doesn't change at all. Izekawa is silent for a long while. Then: “N-not always. Sometimes you have t-to lock the door.”

I'm pretty sure you changed speaker there, so you need a new paragraph.

That's a tricky one. It looks wrong to me, no matter what I do, so I chose this way. I'll put the paragraph in, then.

The thing is this: We're in Mutou's point of view. When the silence hits, he takes in the room, and Mutou takes in the other people's reactions. Hanako's silence is simultaneous to the prinicpal's and Takeuichi sensei's, but her breaking of it is what sets the boundary. There's no obvious place to put the paragraph break. I have three to four candates:

a) Directly after the speech.

b) after "has fallen silent."

c) after the principal's reaction ("at all").

or

d) after the "then:"

a) and b) looks best to me, but nothing looks good. I think I'll try b) for now, just let it settle. [Edit: No, couldn't bring myself to do it... where else? Argh!]

***

@Bagheera: Hanako was pretty hard to write in this one. She's not the same person after this encounter, but since we meet her later, this event must set her on the path to become the girl we know. And the biggest trouble is that - with her minimal communication mode - the difference is far from obvious even I pull it off. The next big event that changes her will be meeting Lilly. So from the Katawa-Shoujo point of view we have Hanako (-2) going to Hanako (-1), counting down towards Lilly's arrival, when we'll have Hanako (0). This scene was the hardest to write so far: I'd actually written it on Friday, and edited every since in my mind, until I found an approach that I could live with. It's not quite what I wanted, but it's close enough.

[Mahorfeus]

Hm, this is quite interesting.

Just a note, I hate to nitpick but you misspelled Hanako's surname as "Izekawa" several times. I noticed it before but it seems to be an ongoing thing.

[nemz]

I'm Austrian (my mother tongue is German). British English is the version I have the closest affinity with. Probably because of David Bowie and Monty Pythons, but also because many of my favourite authors are British.

Well then, let me compliment you on your excellent grasp of written English! I'm completely hopeless at other languages despite attempting to learn some very basic German, French, and Spanish at various points in my education, nearly all of which I've long since forgotten.

Difficult situations that demand a sensitivity that goes beyond his comfort zone. I imagine he tends to wait for the right moment to bring things up; he can't do that with a specific date to keep.

Then put this in the story? He just comes across to me as annoyed he has to be there.

That's a tricky one. It looks wrong to me, no matter what I do, so I chose this way.

I'd go with b or c, or possibly maybe make it three paragraphs and flesh out the description a bit between spoken comments? Risks blowing the pacing but it lets you add in a bit more characterization of the others who are present. The Principal feels like a box speaker wearing a suit jacket at this point, completely lacking in personality. Or maybe I just missed those details? Hmm.

[Dawnstorm]

Just a note, I hate to nitpick but you misspelled Hanako's surname as "Izekawa" several times. I noticed it before but it seems to be an ongoing thing.

Thanks for pointing it out. This was a common mistake of mine when I started writiting this story. Then I got better, but I got so used to correcting myself that when I'd type "Ikezawa", I'd auto-miscorrect myself. And now I'm back with the original mistake. It's the misspelling spiral of doom. It's confusing me. I'll go over it and change it when I find the time.

Well then, let me compliment you on your excellent grasp of written English! I'm completely hopeless at other languages despite attempting to learn some very basic German, French, and Spanish at various points in my education, nearly all of which I've long since forgotten.

Thanks. But if you're a non-native speaker of English you have a bit of an advantage, at least in Western Europe (but probably in the whole world). English source material is very easy to come by, and it's not hard to immerse yourself in native material. I've stopped reading translations when I was about 14 years old.

Then put this in the story? He just comes across to me as annoyed he has to be there.

I probably should. I notoriously underexplain. Part of it is my philosophy behind characterisation; explain too much and you fix them to a psychological diagram that just doesn't fit. But there is such a thing as putting in too little.

I'd go with b or c, or possibly maybe make it three paragraphs and flesh out the description a bit between spoken comments? Risks blowing the pacing but it lets you add in a bit more characterization of the others who are present. The Principal feels like a box speaker wearing a suit jacket at this point, completely lacking in personality. Or maybe I just missed those details? Hmm.

The principal is a box speaker from the get-go, really. You'll notice he doesn't even have a name. There are lots of things in this scene I'm not yet happy with, but I have to get on with the story, for my own sanity's sake. Your input is very helpful. I may not incorporate it right away, but that's because these are points that need to stew. Re-writing this bit is probably the best idea; pacing isn't that much of a problem, since the silence can stretch indefinitely. All it takes is a few verbal cues, so we don't forget what the silence is about. That should be possible.

I think I've said this before, but the writing-posting rhythm is interesting. I'm editing a lot closer than I normally would. Normally, I'd leave the mess sitting there and breeze through a first draft, then go back and strengthen through-lines. (I tend to leave some non-sequitur's in as life is full of red herrings.) After the piece is finished scenes might get shuffled around, re-written, or even deleted. But posting something gives it a greater sense of finality. For the writers among you, I wonder: how do you deal with going public before the entire thing's finished? Are you more meticulous planners than I am? (I have a general plot direction, and I know key-character motivation. There are some scenes I'm looking forward to, but they may never get written, depending on how this develops - small details can necessitate a detour, leaving the scene for an alternate timeline...)

[Mirage_GSM]

I generally try to have at least three or four chapters written in advance before I post one. That was what I did for Katawa Kijo as well as for Tripping, though at the moment, what is postet for the latter is the extent of what I've written.
I've found this very practical for several small retcons that became necessary when the characters didn't quite react the way I expected them to in a scene...
I think in KK I even took a good chunk out of a previous chapter and placed it in a later chapter to improve pacing. I do not like to make changes to already pulished chapters (except for typos etc), because I feel it is a cop-out and it forces a reader to reread that chapter, so I do my best to make sure that is not necessary.

[Dawnstorm]

I do not like to make changes to already pulished chapters (except for typos etc), because I feel it is a cop-out and it forces a reader to reread that chapter, so I do my best to make sure that is not necessary.

I feel like that, too. Once it's posted, it's fixed (except for the minor typo things). But on the other hand, if I never post there's this endless fiddling going on. It's interesting: when I write to myself, I just plow through, let it rest, then do a add-things/cut-thing/move-things edit, and finally a line-edit. But when I serialise as I go, I'm stuck with what's there.

An example, I have a completed and completely unedited fantasy first draft, with one of the factions starting out as scriptural monotheism, and then - with no warning - switching over to a sort-of scriptural ancestor-worship thingy. With no warning; if I ever get to back to that, I will obviously fix this. I decided on the change for thematic reasons mostly, but the change in itself made the setting come together much better, and give the governing trope a firmer base. This is something I wouldn't dare doing in here; even if I thought it would be ultimately better, I'd stick with what I have already and make the best of it. Anything else feels like "cheating the audience".

Having scenes written in advance is an interesting technique. Thanks for replying; I like hearing how others write. It's immensly interesting.

[Dawnstorm]

For story-post navigation please refer to the index post.

I.4. Rumours

“...love with him?”

Gossip does not interest him, so why does Hisao suddenly pay attention to the voices behind him? He slows down, and the gossipers come closer.

“Gyah! Terrible. Terrible, terrible terrible.” A girl giggles. “Just imagine. New here, and the school psycho has the hots for him. I wouldn't want to talk to him. I mean she's scary! What if she comes after me?”

So this is the fall-out of yesterday's performance of the drama club. Rumours. He has never been at the heart of them. He has never been in the know. It feels... strange. So they think Miyako is in love with him? If they knew about that first meeting they wouldn't think that. Or would they? Might it be possible? Only when he finds himself cringing at the thought of a kitten he once petted skinned and nailed to his dorm door does he realise he is pondering the situation. His own musings have pushed beyond absurdity into ridicule. People aren't like that in the real world, are they?

“You've been listening in?”

It takes Hisao a while to realise the girl is talking to him. He doesn't look at her, keeps his head down, nods.

“Scary, isn't it?”

It is obvious that they don't know who he is. He has no intention of making himself known, so he nods again, then slips from the nod into bow, simply by keeping his head down a second lower. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to listen in.”

The girl giggles. “We were loud, though. Sorry, for causing you trouble.”

Another says, “It's not true, though.”

A boy's voice: “Oh? And you know that because?”

“Don't you need a heart to fall in love?”

The lot of them giggle and overtake him, paying no more attention. He watches them leave him behind. They are joking and laughing. Life goes on. The drama club's performance brightens their day. I wouldn't want to talk to him. What if she comes after me? Hisao begins to think that might not be the worst of it. It's not even a year. Peace and quiet. Surely, it can't get that lonely...

And he thinks of the student council. He'll be in class soon, and then? He feels like he can't face them. He has witnessed an embarrassing moment, has seen reactions he shouldn't. And knows nothing. Curiosity has kept him awake, speculating. He favours two theories. The first one: They are a couple, but one of them is embarrassed to come out. If this is the truth, who would it be? Is Misha being loud and scarily cheery a mask of distraction? Does Shizune think being a lesbian is unbecoming for the president of a student council?

Perhaps, though, it is a matter of one-sided love – one of them confessed, the other turned her down. In that case, considering yesterday's reactions, it must be Misha who is caught in an unrequited love. Old wounds and public embarrassments...

The thing about these speculations is that any of them could be true, or none. And in any case, it is none of his business. But you can't calm a curious mind like this. If he had more friends, if he was more outgoing, would he have talked about this? Is this where rumours come from? There is shame in such speculations. How can he even blame the group of students who just passed him – unaware and thus unashamed? Is he any different?

Hisao hasn't realised how much brooding has slowed him down until he sees Mutou in the corridor. That late? Mutou sees him, and Hisao gives him an apologetic bow, then hurries up and slinks into the classroom just a moment before the teacher himself. He enters class and sees Misha poke Shizune. Both their heads turn on him. He hopes he doesn't blush, as he bows yet again. He apologises a lot today. As he sits down, he feels watched. What is this paranoia? There have only been a few students joking around.

He takes a deep breath and stops himself from sighing, as the door opens yet again. It is Hanako, who is once again late for class. Idly he turns his head. He isn't certain that she looks at him until their eyes meet. She turns away and scuttles to her seat. Even Hanako? This is going to be a long, long day.

***

Miyako never sleeps well the night after she has been visited by her incubus. She dares not lie on her back, lest she invite him again; but this is the best position for her to fall asleep. And if she does fall asleep in any other position, she will roll onto her back, inevitably. The incubus has never arrived two nights in a row, but that doesn't make her any less nervous. And recently the duration between his visits has decreased. A bad stretch? A tendency? Her imagination?

And as if that isn't enough she has to meet that boy exactly after the incubus has left. She embarrasses herself before him and then even chases him down to embarrass herself some more. And worst of all, she cannot forget him. The things she has said to him, she knows, she has said to herself. A tangle of synapses, and the border between two people blurs. And now there are rumours to tie them together even tighter. It is life's twisted humour that she has no-one to blame but herself.

On a whim, she walks away from school. Tiredness, shame and a crowd of gossiping people: Not a combination to to bring out the best in her. Or rather: not a combination to keep in the worst of her. Eventually, she finds herself walking among the trees. She calms down a bit. Nobody is here. It's all right. She stops, closes her eyes, gathers all her evil thoughts in her chest. She seethes, breathes heavily. In, out; in out. Then she opens her eyes, she tilts her head back, looks up at the foliage above. It is a lovely day; a web of light and shadow falls across her face. She blinks, and then lets it all out in a single howl. Fox no more. A high-pitched lupine howl of anger and frustration.

And a foxy little yelp that isn't hers.

The sound hits her like lightning. For a moment her vision blurs and her spine is on fire. She is not alone. How much more embarrassing can it get. She wants to cry, but doesn't allow herself to. She looks around to find the source. Oh. Her body sags, relaxes. It's only Rin. “I frightened you.”

“I was sleeping.”

“I thought I was alone.”

“But I'm here. Maybe I didn't count because I was asleep. But now I'm no longer asleep, so you're definitely not alone, even if you were before.”

“I didn't know you were here, asleep or otherwise. I would have screamed elsewhere. It wasn't meant to be a public performance.”

Rin doesn't reply to that, but just looks at her.

“I don't want to scream any more,” Miya says into the silence.

“That's good, because I don't want to hear you scream any more. Not that it was bad scream. But screams are loud and it's hard to relax near them.”

“I like screaming. It stops me from exploding. Can I sit down?”

“I think you can. It's not that hard. I hope you can do it without screaming or exploding, though. If you have to choose either, I'd prefer the scream.”

“I've already screamed.”

“True.”

Miya sits down an arm-length beside Rin. She lies down. Her shoulder grazes a tree. “I messed up,” she says.

Rin has nothing to say to that. Miya's gaze is lost in the canopy above and the now silent Rin is reduced to a remembered presence. Miya goes on talking, to herself, to Rin, she doesn't care. “There's a new boy in school. Gloomy, with a heart condition. The student council says you know him. Well, I embarrassed the student council in front of him and the entire cafeteria... that is, all the people in the cafeteria saw it. Now there are rumours. Heard any?”

There is a pause during which Miya is unsure Rin is listening at all. But then: “Maybe that's what Emi was angry about?”

“Angry?”

“She told someone off about something. She also asked me whether I believed that. I thought she wanted me to say no, so I said no, but I didn't really listen. I wish I had listened, because now I wonder what it is that I don't believe. Maybe it's the rumours.”

“Does Emi know him?”

“Who?”

“New guy. Gloomy. Heart condition. There are rumours about him.”

“Hisao. Emi knows him. She ran him over, and he almost died, but he didn't get angry, and that's why she likes him. I think. She invited him to have dinner with us on the rooftop.”

“Huh.” Miya finds herself smiling. “I thought he knows only weird people like you and Ikezawa, and now me. But if he has the no-legged wonder on his side... If the stars defend him, maybe it'll be all right after all.”

No reply.

“Well, the student council will eventually get their act together, too. That should stop the rumours, if they're not strong enough by then. And – come to think of it – if he knows Ikezawa he'll most likely have Satou on his side. Not to be taken lightly, a popular ally like that. Might even alleviate my bad influence. Heh.”

Miya doesn't expect Rin to listen to these ramblings. They don't really concern her, and a jumble of words like that isn't likely to catch her interest. However, with Rin there, talking is easier. And hearing her voice makes believing the content easier. It is, as always, pretending. None of this gets rid of her responsibility. This is on her. And she can think of nothing to do. Others take care of the situation. The best she can do is stay away. As always. She settles for a long round of silence, but surprisingly, Rin interrupts her brooding: “Are rumours bad?”

“Huh?”

“I ignore them. They're usually not very interesting. People always want to know who is whose boyfriend, or girlfriend. Is that what the rumours are about? There was a rumour about me once. I have forgotten it. Something about a foot job. I could do that sort of job, if I knew what it was. But when I asked the boy turned red and ran away. People don't talk about foot jobs to me. Maybe they're embarrassed because they can do hand jobs and I can't.”

“There's a rumour that says I'm his girlfriend, yes. There's another one that says he hired me to be mean to the student council so he doesn't have to join. Nonsense like that.” Miya chuckles. “It's bad if people believe that. Nobody wants to be friends with my boyfriend. Nobody wants to be friends with somebody who hires me to be mean to others. But it's bad even if people don't believe that. I mean, if that sort of stuff is all you have to associate...” Miya falls silent, and just when she is about to drop that train of thought Rin speaks up:

“I wouldn't hire you to be mean to anyone. I'd just wait, and eventually you'd be mean to them for free. Except that I don't want you to be mean in the first place. Being mean isn't nice.”

Being mean isn't nice? Tezuka sensei has spoken. “Maybe I should open an agency. Ask for lots of money if people want me to be mean to someone. Then I couldn't do it to any one for free. And since nobody could afford it, I'd never be mean again.”

“Would that work?”

“No.”

“I thought not.”

Miya chuckles some more. Rin's thought processes calm her. They make little sense but do have their own logic, and who knows what comes from following them into nowhere? They're better than her own, anyway. She feels a bit better now. Rin deserves a reward for being herself, and the only thing Miya has is information. “Rin?”

“Miya?”

“A foot job is when you stimulate a boy's penis with your feet.”

“Ah,” Rin says. “I'd probably be good at that. Do boys like foot jobs?”

Miya gets up and brushes grass from her school uniform. “Most will never find out. That's why they like the rumour, I guess.”

Rin seems to ponder this, so Miya turns to walk away. She pauses. A thought crosses her mind. “Rin?”

“Miya?”

“You didn't skip class, did you, because you wanted to work on that... project of yours?”

Rin's eyes go wide. “No, I didn't. I skipped class because I have to work on that project. That's why it's a project. A project is something that makes others mad if you don't finish it. I walked into town yesterday, and forgot about it. Then I got home, but it was dark. Then I didn't sleep well, and now I slept well, but I should have been finishing the project.”

Rin only talks this much when she is nervous. “Rin.”

“Miya.”

“Daylight is good for painting. Go.”

“Yes.”

And Rin gets up and moves away faster than the speed of Rin. It is still not particularly fast, so hopefully she'll remember to arrive. Well, it's none of Miya's business. Now, though, she doesn't have to leave and worry about saying something mean to the only person at Yamaku who has never yet annoyed her. She waits a while and sits down where Rin has sat just a moment before. The huge elm's bark is rough against her back. She likes that. Rin has left a little warmth on the ground. It's not quite a presence, but not quite an absence either. Miya is feeling strange. She knows the feeling, heavy, yet mellow. As if a huge, satiated snake has taken up residence inside her, from shoulder to shoulder, via the gut. It is loneliness. It is almost pleasant. It is not a pain at all.

[Mirage_GSM]

Rin and Miya have quite a nice chemistry. I was really surprised how well those two characters work together.

[Mahorfeus]

Easily my favorite Rin scene in any fic I've read yet. I agree that their personalities compliment one another rather well.

[nemz]

I expected you'd be able to do a great version Rin, and I am not at all disappointed!

Perhaps, though, it is a matter of one-sided love – one of them confessed,

Usually that dash would be better as either an em dash (with no spaces on either side) or a semicolon. You do this a couple times, otherwise I wouldn't have bothered pointing it out.

“Hisao. Emi knows him She ran him over, and he almost died, but he didn't get angry, and that's why she likes him.

You need some sort of punctuation after the first 'him', though given this is a Rin ramble I'm not sure which fits best... period, comma, semicolon, or even another em dash.

She knows the feeling, heavy, yet mellow. As if a huge, satiated snake has taken up residence inside her, from shoulder to shoulder, via the gut. It is loneliness. It is almost pleasant. It is not a pain at all.

This passage gave me Evangelion ep23 flashbacks. Miya and Rei should compare notes on the subject, and perhaps karaoke after.