Gravity: A Molly Pseudo- Pseudo Route. Updated as of 11/03/2019

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Re: Gravity-Molly pseudo route [09/23/15] Update* ONESHOT

Post by AntonSlavik020 » Wed Sep 23, 2015 8:43 pm

Not gonna lie, I almost never like Rika, and this really isn't an exception. She was written fine and all, she's just not a character I enjoy. Not to mention, she's usually a smoker and I HATE cigarettes, though this isn't the place for me to really get into that. So yeah, I didn't like her here any more than I usually do, so that made this kinda hard for me to enjoy.
Best girl

Best route

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Gravity-Molly pseudo route [08/15/16] Update

Post by Feurox » Sun Aug 14, 2016 8:55 pm

First off, some admin. I don't know how many people reading my stuff initially will even still be on the site but if you're here then hello old friends. It has been too long. I'm sorry it's been a year since I last posted, I had some unfortunate problems to deal with and it's taken me a while to get back on track. I want to finish this route and I hope that I can continue to do so with the same criticism and guidance that helped to shape my story from a rushed and un-researched initial post to what I hope did and can make people have a good/sad and fulfilling time with this story. Saying that, again massive thank you to Brythain for proofreading and patience it's always appreciated and special mentions to anyone who was reading and/or commenting last year when we set off on this, namely Swampie and Sharp O for cheering me on and Mirage who's praise and advice has helped me so far immensely.

Act 2 Chapter 5 Crucifix
We all have our crosses.

Waking up to hear rain on the window pane is probably one of my favourite ways to start the day; my mother used to tell me I’d be a poet when I’d sit on the windowsill watching the rain hit the ground and cars. But honestly, poetry never appealed to me: “Creativity is a curse,” she used to say and I don’t doubt that. Taro’s a prime example of a trapped soul, and his passion is cooking. Which, speaking of, I could really go for right now. He never cooks us breakfast on a school day, but flicking my phone screen open, I’m almost tempted to plead with him to come over to the girl’s dorms. Instead I prematurely silence my alarms, having woken up 30 minutes earlier and decided, instead of getting up and ready, to listen to the pounding of the rain that's almost divine in its persistence.

Keep tapping on my window, you’ll get revenge someday

Whether or not my drive for chemistry (first period), or just to escape the thoughts circling my head, propels me out of my bed and into the day is a thought even I might question--though I learnt long ago I can’t run from the latter, hell, I can’t run at all.

As I swing my rounded thighs over the edge of my bed, an unsilenced yawn forces itself up my throat and into the morning air. I withdraw my outstretched arms to rub the sleep from my eyes. Beside my bed lie my two metallic augments, straps hanging loosely over their sides, chinks and scratches shining off of the metal as I turn the lights of my room on via the gadget Hisao was all too enamoured with a couple of days ago.


For the second consecutive morning, I feel my heart skip and my face flushes, the joy of it beyond any descriptive power. The moment we kissed, coiling round my brain, is enough to make me bite my lips to restrain the smile on them. I even giggle a little replaying every little detail over and over, the way he tasted and felt, the way he grabbed me as I started to slip and wiped the tears from my eyes as they welled up.

It must have been weird for him. How many guys would really be patient enough to stay the way he did?

My thighs slot into my legs easily, un-creamed and unchecked under the fallacy that I’ll do it tonight, or maybe tomorrow. I almost see nurse shake his fist at me behind the curtains of my imagination. I clip on my skirt and throw on a new bra, shirt and jumper. The grey pairs well with my choice of ribbon colour today, of red. As I finish plaiting my hair on both sides and letting my plaits fall forward, I tie the fabric to the left plait as a band and run my hand through my fringe of hair causing it to jut out as usual. Luckily it’s not greasy, but I definitely plan on showering tonight. The bed frame and side-table allow me to stabilise myself as I stand upright, rooting through my drawers to find my bow.

Call me a slob, but the packet of chips in my emergency rations box suits me for an adequate breakfast, and with a final scan of my room, I clasp the strap of my bag over my shoulder and head out, shutting my door behind me with a dull thud and locking it.

Time to wake up the dream machine

Walking across the carpeted hallway turns to the scary when, before even a second knock on Suzu’s door, she throws it open fully clothed and ready behind it with her eyes still closed and her breath still heavy. She almost seems possessed with that kind of strength and I can’t help but worry: I mean, there’s stories about murderous sleepwalkers and everything, I half expect her to smash her fist into the wall and pull out the rebar as in the manga I’m reading, but instead she opens her left eye.


She closes said eye and steps blindly into the hall turning in the direction of the common room and, without another word, disappearing down the stairs In perhaps both the most lethargic and yet precise way I’ve ever seen from anyone.

Though I can’t say things like that happen very often.

I’m officially freaked out.

Being the paragon of friendship that I am, I decide to close and lock her door for her, given that I carry both of our keys on me. And briefly tracing my hand along the wall as I turn, I too walk down the corridor with likely as much lethargy. Though the idea of Suzu wandering haplessly into the rain is a funny one, I realize I should probably stop her from becoming a human ice-pop, so I speed hobble my way past the few second years sitting with their legs on each other in the common room. I briefly hear something about ‘girth’ and bolt out.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Pillows don’t talk, Hisao.”

Before me stands an umbrella-bearing Hisao, Suzu leaning almost abnormally forward against his chest, with one of his hands propping her up to make sure she doesn’t fall. He begs me with his eyes to help him, so I cross my arms and attempt that cool leaning pose in movies, with nothing to lean on though I doubt I replicate the look very well.

“Well well well, what are you doing here?” I ask in what I hope is a sexy secretary-esque way, lifting my chin up as I do so.

“I brought an umbrella because I figured you wouldn’t have one. Then she walked head-first into me, calling me her pill-OW!” He’s interrupted with a sharp jab to his hip by Suzu, who jumps back but ensures she stays under his cover.

“Why would you say it like that, huh? Most guys would kill for a cute girl like me to bump into them.”

“You didn’t bump into me, you head-butted me!”

Reaching into my bag I pull out my- Yeah, I haven’t got an umbrella--he’s right.

And here comes my smile in five, four, three, two…

No, totally misjudged that, I’ve been smiling since three.

“Yeah whatever, let’s get this school train started.” Suzu gestures me over, before turning in the direction of the school, and tugging her imaginary cord with an appropriate ‘woot woot’ beneath the rain.

Shaking my head with a smile, I hurry to the safety of Hisao’s umbrella while he gives me this awkward do I kiss her face look, and though I’d very much like that, I don’t know who’s exactly watching from the dorm windows directly above us. I’d call myself a nerd in the traditional sense: undue attention sure makes me uncomfortable. So instead I settle for hugging him around his waist quickly, a feat made easier due to my small stature.

And with that, the three of us set off down the gravelly path to class at about the speed you’d expect of a narcoleptic, an arrhythmiac and a double amputee. The rain pelts down on each side of us, and if it weren’t for Hisao’s arm over my shoulder I’d have long been displaced due to Suzu’s swinging and swerving steps, criss-crossing just ahead of us, it must look pretty strange to Hisao but I guess you get used to the weirdness of tired Suzu. It’s clear she’s not been sleeping right.

Synthetic as it is, Yamaku’s grounds remain well kept, though you’d think heavy rain would somehow change the mood of the campus, the flowers remain at their bolt upright angle on either side of the walkway, with the half-hoop flowerbed perimeter gleaming its oak leaf green despite the pouring rain, almost as if the sun, hidden as it is, reflects still when it’s not there. I suppose some kids here would despise the hospital-like feel to the somewhat artificial gardens and I won’t lie that I’ve been In that same position, but as a lover of science, how can I feel anything but pride in the human ability to replicate and control nature in just that way? Though one look at my ‘legs’ is enough to show both the genius and abhorrent nature of science.

“Sure, but you have Molly to thank for that.” Suzu claims, lifting her hand up In a dismissive response to whatever Hisao must have said, which I've missed as I was pretty tuned out.

“To thank for what?” I ask.

“Wait, you didn’t hear any of what we just said?!”

“Noooo?” Well, that’ll teach me to zone out like that I guess. Suzu for her part just slaps her hands against her face, screaming inwardly.

“I could have totally bitched about you! What a missed opportunity!”

“Hey, I don’t think I would have gone along with that,” Hisao interjects feebly.

“Trust me, she doesn’t need any agreement nor any encouragement, Hisao,” I reply, as we reach the main entrance to the school. Suzu doesn’t bother waiting for Hisao to close his umbrella, giving us the few moments between bustling corridor and pouring rain alone. After he finishes putting his umbrella in its sheath and shoving it in his satchel, he smiles at me warmly.

At least take your shoes off before you run through my mind.

I guess my reluctance to kiss him earlier set the precedent as he just pats my head before turning to enter, gesturing at me to do the same, with his extended arm hovering behind the small of my back, almost pushing me with him despite his gentility. Though it’s not like I want to wait outside in the rain.

I don’t spend much time glancing at the walls. This time, every window we pass looks more and more submerged beneath the rain outside, and the slate-grey sky parallels the beige corridors in monotony. The stairs again damage my self-image as I pant near the final floor, a damage lessened by Hisao’s equal panting. There is a lift, but the hospital staff used to talk of little victories and by now I feel as if it’s tradition to struggle up the staircase.

The classroom comes up just on our left, students of all varieties flooding into their respective rooms. Before we can even enter, Miki comes up behind us, throwing her arms around our shoulders, mine being the easier throw obviously though I do get the one with her stub ha-wrist.

“Heya love-birds,” she grins, and I can almost feel her jaw jutting into my cheek. ”Suzu said you were official now.”

Of course she did.

You’d think it would take more than a couple of days for a rumour like that to get to Miki.

Wait what am I saying? Of course you wouldn’t.

“Well, we’re not official,” Hisao teases, dragging out the last word for dramatic effect.

“W-wait... we’re not?” I feign offence, contorting my face in mock disgust at him, which the one-handed girl between us accentuates with an overly dramatic sigh and ‘tut’ at Hisao. She moves her arm from around my shoulder and waggles it as though her fingers were still there before realizing her muscle memory has no muscle to use and covers the stump with her remaining hand.

I know the feeling.

“Hey you never actually agreed.”

Touché, Hisao, touché

“What do you think about this, Sir?”

Wait- wha...

“Well I, uh,” Mutou awkwardly mumbles from behind us, whom Miki had decided to turn and face. She’s gesturing at the two of us with her outstretched arms kennelling us together. “Excuse me,” he coughs, pushing past us, thankfully dropping it there. Hisao elbows Miki in her hip earning him an outstretched tongue, and I thank the gods that Suzu is passed out at her desk or I’d never have escaped ridicule.

We all enter, shambling to our desks with scared-stiff shoulders. And for once the morning, despite the rain, seems to be worth the early start, Miki’s awkward joke notwithstanding.

Well, it does, until Mutou scratches a page number on the board.

I hate the Forces module.

“Yeah mom, no, no, of course not. Yeah. Yeah. I am. I will. Bye. Love you too. Bye. Bye Bye.”

Listening to Suzu’s weekly call to her mother back home always seems to sound the same; the reluctant breaths between each lie of agreement to send photos or write letters always creep me out. Mrs Suzuki, the only person I’ve ever seen Suzu submit to. And I don’t blame her, a week in the Suzuki family’s home last summer felt like living a year in the wilds of the Amazon, it’s dog eat dog there. I suppose three older brothers gives that house a kill or be killed lifestyle.

The high-pitched beep of the phone signals the end of her encounter. Flicking it closed she sighs and falls back on the wall, bending her legs as far as her brace will allow. Her light blue-green hair puffs up with her breath at the fringe, her eyes firmly closed as she wipes a hand across her forehead. Opening one eye she looks at me, a tiny laugh escaping her.

“Well that was a shit show.”

I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting that. But after last night’s events with Hisao I’d sorta forgotten that Suzu had problems to talk about. Maybe getting them out of the way now would be a good idea.

”Mother’s booked me and Taro a hotel room and seats for I Am Alice in the city for the three day weekend.”

Well, there’s another curveball, though Suzu’s tone doesn’t show any signs of the excitement I know I’d be feeling if someone had booked such a surprise for me, rather, she closes her eye again and presses both palms to her face, dragging them down and pulling her skin slightly giving her a ghoulish look.

“That sounds romantic, aren’t you excited?” I ask, genuinely confused by Suzu’s reaction.

“No, I wish that idiot hadn’t introduced himself to her last year,” she sighs again, now moving to the bed and laying herself flat like a starfish, her appendages hanging limply off the edges. “Romance doesn’t really fit a fuck buddy Molls.”

The terms she uses almost make me cringe: the brutish matter of fact way she speaks is both relieving and intimidating. The nature of her relationship with Taro has always confused me but the way she exhales and lightly groans makes me highly doubt that it’s just about sex. That, and the way her voice quivers. She feels for him; I’m no psychiatrist but even the blind kids here can see she likes him. But I’ve never understood why she doesn’t go for him--if it’s just a friend thing then why lead him on?

“Hey, why not give romance a try?” I ask, more timidly then I think I should feel around my best friend. But the air feels pointed.

“You serious, Molls? It just ain’t like that.”

“Do you just not like him?”

“No, I do. It’s just... I don’t want to hurt him Molls, call me a pussy or whatever but I know when I’m bad news for a guy.”

Well, some best friend I am then. She looks down at her toes and it honestly looks like she might start cr-

Yep she’s started to cry, crud, I’m not used to sensitive Suzu and I don’t think any amount of chemistry is going to help me here. Shit. Talk about coming out of left field. Not surprisingly she accepts my hug and ends up resting her head snugly between my breasts. Granted, she’s not sobbing--but it’s enough for me to feel the wetness working its way through my linen shirt.

“I’m so tired of being called a bitch, when I’m just trying to protect him, Molls,” she carries on, muffled by my body making her sound like she’s squished. I’d honestly laugh if she wasn’t upset. “I like him a load, too much maybe, I don’t want to risk anything with a relationship.”

I really have no idea what I’m supposed to say here, I guess Taro couldn’t have been further from the truth when he thought she didn’t like him, but I seriously can’t help but feel like a terrible friend. I’ve always known she liked him, she didn’t stop talking about him when he first showed up. But I had no idea she felt this strongly, I guess I kind of fell for her emotionless act too. Which hurts.

“Suzu, you really do worry too much. You know damn well he wouldn’t let you go if you guys got together.” I may just be re-hashing the old with this, like a broken record, but we both know how much he likes her since he never shuts up about it. And yet her fear of a relationship bothers me too, like, why wasn’t I afraid of Hisao? If anything it’s something I was totally and utterly excited for, everyone comments how fast I moved. Though I have to credit Taro for it all, really.

I know I owe him, and I know Suzu is his happiness.

From the window a thin wisp of setting sunlight snakes into my eye, like a cut from my eyebrow to the base of my neck. The raindrops of the day are still lying restless against the pane, slowly dripping down and hexagonally slicing the rays of sunlight that hit it.

Refraction, I tell myself.

Suzu opens her mouth to reply, no doubt to tell me I just don’t get it but I lift her head from my chest and stare her squarely in the eye, which actually involves me looking up ever so slightly, maybe reducing my intimidating effect. “You can’t just be afraid of everything Suzu, you won’t get anywhere without taking a few risks.”

She stares back, moist eyes no doubt blurring my form to her, but she gets my point. It wasn’t exactly a thesis on the beginning of the universe--which reminds me, I’ve got a fantastic book waiting in my bag--but at least I said something.

“You think I don’t know about risk Molly?” She practically snaps that at me, before sighing and the redness from her face lessens, “All it would take was for me to collapse on a hard surface or somewhere high and he’d be alone, I just can’t hurt him with all that.”

My thoughts are dragged kicking and screaming to my night walk, Rika scratching the words ”time bomb” on the chalkboard brain inside my head.

Heh, ironic that my heart’s the one dropping right now.

I want to tell her about Hisao, but I know it’s not my place. Yet at the same time I finally think I understand her reasons a little.

It may be a burden knowing you could die at any time, but having had five years of therapy sometimes makes me wish that I was the one on the receiving end of that bargain.

“Besides, he’d blame himself, we both know how melodramatic that boy is.” She laughs, dryly.

And I know a thing about blame, my two crimes now embodied as my new legs.

Little miss murderer.

I can’t help but laugh.

And cry.

Sensitive Molly is also not my strong suit.

“M-Molly?” She’s not asking why I’m crying.

“You’re an idiot Suzu.” And I’m not telling her to stop.

“Oh piss off Molly,” she says, wrapping her arms around my back to prevent me from doing so.

“You honestly think he isn’t already attached enough?” I ask her, putting my hand on the back of her head as to keep her from looking at my own now wetted eyes. It makes her look uncomfortably slouched, honestly.

“You’re not going to die, Suzu, I won’t let you,” Orange light pours through the window and... Christ am I hungry. “Just give the guy a chance, for me?”

“But Molls,” She mumbles into me, the warmth spreading along my chest. “He’s pretty dangerous for a narcoleptic. One working arm and particularly unfit, sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

“There’s always a risk Suzu. Life is unpredictable.” Like one day you can walk on your own and the next…

She ‘umms’ for a second before nodding into my chest, and this victory feels like winning the impossible. “I’ll try, Molls, okay?” then giggles a little still holding me. “It’s like I’ve got two mums, get off my back already.”

“You’re actually holding my back, Suzu.” My retort, similar to how I feel, is small and restrained.

“Besides, Molly,” Suzu sniffs and collapses backwards still holding me around my hips, pulling me over her uncomfortably, “You really think a Suzuki wouldn’t negotiate an extra room?”

[Sure I’ll be right there.]

With a click to the side button of my phone, the lit up display darkens and I drop it into my bag beside me, leaning back into my castle, its cushy spires encasing my sides beneath layers of soft fabric.

My talk with Suzu yesterday, despite being tearful on both parts and honestly not making much ground did have one benefit: it left me with an opportunity to finally explain myself to Hisao. Maybe 7 o'clock on a Wednesday isn’t the best time to do so, but I’ve already texted him, so it’s now or never.

Well, not literally, but you get the point.

Surely though that problem Is solved through crystallisation?

I physically sigh, just now realising that Jenny’s real problem is just her lack of safety equipment.

Being this smart is honestly a burden sometimes.

I sound like Shizune, sign like Shizune?

My book held above my face with my left hand and my right holding the pencil from which I scribe, I sigh. ‘legs’ outstretched into the seeping glow of the setting sun enough that I can almost feel it against the metal of them. I want to scream into the quiet of the library, but my better judgement stops me.

“Urgh.” I don’t think any manner of magic could get me back the thirty minutes I just wasted missing the entire point of my chemistry work.

Jotting something down about goggles and proper first aid, in handwriting that could be mistaken for that of a four year old, I shove my workbook back into my bag in exchange for something more, gratifying .

My guilty pleasure

“Synthesising Foods, Frankenfoods”

I relish my abnormality, opening the book to its checked place and pining it with my thumb, browsing for where to resume, finding it at the application of Synthesised Foods in a modern society and indulging myself with what feels like only thirty seconds of my absolute favourite topic. Though Hisao’s arrival proves rather that the reality of my time in trance was really about ten minutes. I almost don’t see him hovering above me with the intensity of my reading. He looks ready to just leave me to it, but I plan on teasing him so can’t just let him sit yet.

“Aren’t you supposed to greet your girlfriend?” I ask, in enough of a playful tone to be audible under my whisper.

“Who are you and how do you have my number?” He doesn’t really sounds serious but his tone doesn’t strike me as his usual joking voice.

He sort of stares through me for a second, before smiling warmly and tiredly, loosening his shoulders as he does.

“Howdy Girlfriend.”

“N-no that’s not what I meant Hisao.”



Like honestly nothing, he just looks, like nothing. I don’t see any emotion on his face.

“Never mind,” I say, honestly kind of disappointed, but again dark bags hang heavy under his eyes and he really doesn’t look well. Confused, he scratches his head before kneeling down and bringing his face to my face. He places his hand behind my ear, stroking his thumb over it and leaning in, touching his lips to my cheek like he’s some 70s show girl. Then he tries to pull away smoothly but trips and lands on his ass.

“I’m smooth,” he says, a tiny smile on his lips and listing to the left.

“The smoothest,” I retort, “Tired?” I ask.

“Just a little.”

He shuffles to his left another inch, just enough to prop himself on the other, I’d argue less comfy , beanbag. Though only slightly, I see his bottom jaw unhinge as he sighs, the slightly kinked tie breathing with his chest.

“They say you can often tell a lot about a person from the books they read.” He restarts the conversation, a second of silence apparently too much for even tired Hisao.

“Oh yeah, so what does this tell you about me?” I ask, expecting a smart ass-reply.

“I’m not them!” His hushed laugh is infectious, though silencing mine ends up forcing a snort rather than the cute giggle I’d hoped for.

“You read a lot don’t you?” I ask, my thumbnail considerably shorter on the hand holding my book apart.

“I had a lot of time for it in the hospital.” I knew that Hisao spent time in hospital but it still catches me off guard a little.

After an awkward moment of silence, Hisao pulls out a binder from his leather satchel. Time passes with us just attending to our own books. Perhaps this is the more ‘comfortable’ silence Suzu always begs Taro for, though I can only guess the time from the light pouring into the library, now a moody orange from its earlier, brighter hue.

“Hey Hisao,” I murmur, content with my page progress.

“Hey Molly.”

“What are you doing for the long weekend?”

He shrugs beside me.

“Nothing. You?”

“Was thinking of going with Suzu and Taro into the city for a couple of nights.”

“That sounds…Rambunctious.” I… I don’t even know what that means but he slurs it in lethargy.

“Yeah, well I wanted some company and thought-“

“Yeah I’ll let Shizune know you’re interested.” His exhausted laugh turns into a grunt as my strategically placed metal foot digs into his hip. In fact, I think he nearly directs his eyes to me for a second.


“So, you coming or not?” Tilting my head to glance sideways at him treats me to the sight of a baby-smooth chin retreating back into his binder.

“Yeah sure, though this doesn’t sound cheap,” I don’t know if he’s trying to joke or being serious on account of his playful tone but I can’t see him smiling obviously. “I might need to call my parents.”

A sheepish cry comes from the counter of the library, the shrill librarian likely crushed again beneath a heavy pile of books. The orange day-line glow pouring in through the window has slowly turned almost red, the end of the day approaching and painting crossed squares against the soft carpet floor, yet I can’t help feel like time has stood still.

Suzu’s parents had agreed to pay for the additional room, but there’s only the two tickets for the show so I don’t try and persuade him not to call his parents.

After all, I’m overdue a call with my mother. Maybe the incentive of a trip to the city with my pseudo boyfriend is just the push I need to pick up the phone.

I’m making Suzu be strong, I have to give this all a go.

Contents Next
Last edited by Feurox on Wed Sep 07, 2016 11:44 am, edited 4 times in total.

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Re: Gravity-Molly pseudo route [08/15/16]

Post by Alpacalypse » Mon Aug 15, 2016 5:46 am

Well, well, well, this was unexpected. Good to see you back, Feurox, I was wondering what had happened with this story. Glad it's not dead. :D

As to the chapter itself, it's nice. I'm wondering where it's all going, though, there's a bit of an uneasy feeling to events as they unfold. I'll be keeping up with them to find out.
A bit of a problem, though, is that you're using a hell of a lot of commas and not much else. You could do with breaking up some of the longer sentences into smaller ones. Just a thought, anyway.
I am the harbinger of your destruction... By herbivorous, mountain dwelling quadrupeds... fear me
I also write now, apparently. Since everyone else does it, I'm putting it here
I have also discovered that I'm a decent proofreader. Anybody with SPaG problems is free to PM me their work for a thorough analysis and/or evisceration. Depends on how I'm feeling.

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Re: Gravity-Molly pseudo route [08/15/16]

Post by FISCHERWMT » Mon Aug 15, 2016 1:29 pm

Glad you are back. Now I'm going to retread from the beginning before reading the new. Don't let life get you down.

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Re: Gravity-Molly pseudo route [08/15/16]

Post by Mirage_GSM » Tue Aug 16, 2016 9:52 am

Look who's back...

I admit I had to reread the earlier chapters to refamiliarize myself with your characters.
I suppose some kids here would despise the hospital-like feel to the artificial gardens
Hmm... Wasn't there a bit in the earlier chapters about Molly trampling a few flowers and about them being replaced every couple of weeks? Why would you replace artificial flowers?
seats for I Am Alice
Not sure what you're referring to, but the most likely hit on google seems to be neither a movie nor very romantic...
...I ask, more timidly then I think I should feel
“I like him a load, too much maybe, I don’t want to risk anything with a relationship.”
Instead she risks everything by doing what she does?
“All it would take was for me to collapse on a hard surface or somewhere high and he’d be alone, I just can’t hurt him with all that.”
I think I already offered my opinion on Hollywood narcolepsy...
I physically sigh, just now realising that Jenny’s real problem is just her lack of safety equipment.
Who's Jenny?
it left me with an opportunity to finally explain myself to Hisao.
Seems she didn't get any explaining done after all...

The last part felt a bit... disjointed. Not the way the rest of the story is written... It's as if either the characters is so tired she can't formulate a clear thought or you were when writing this. Kudo's to you if it's the first :-)
Good to see this story continued. It's still got a lot of open questions to be resolved.
A bit of a problem, though, is that you're using a hell of a lot of commas and not much else. You could do with breaking up some of the longer sentences into smaller ones.
I don't usually comment on punctuation, but since it's come up: You consistently don't use commas before "and" even if there's a complete sentence following.
Emi > Misha > Hanako > Lilly > Rin > Shizune

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griffon8 wrote:Kosher, just because sex is your answer to everything doesn't mean that sex is the answer to everything.
Sore wa himitsu desu.

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Gravity-Molly pseudo route [09/07/16]

Post by Feurox » Wed Sep 07, 2016 11:38 am

Hi again. Just a little bit extra to tide things over till the next post which will be the conclusion of Act 2. Hope you guys enjoy, and would love your feedback. Huge thank you to Brythain who puts up with all my crap. Wouldn't ever be possible without you mate! (And I abandoned the 'parts' after realising that the chapters stand alone well enough.)

Act 2 Chapter 6 E.T
Trying to find the in-between

It’s the week of the three-day weekend and everyone seems ready for some time off. The week has featured a few exams that just sort of snuck up on the whole year, Hisao and I have been an unorthodox study group for long enough to be somewhat prepared I guess. Surprisingly Suzu actually wandered in to the library to plead for our help, I found it pretty cute. Mutou has laid off a little, which to most would probably be a relief. Granted it’s only a little but still. I suppose normally I would be grateful for a break in the workload but I know I’ve been seeking distractions to avoid calling home. I’m not totally opposed to ringing my mother: I mean, I love her. Of course I do, but she’s not my concern.

It’s her other half that terrifies me. It’s no secret to me that my dad resents me. I suppose it would make sense really—I’m not his. But I wouldn’t want to be either.

Unfortunately I’ve burnt myself out on revising and done all the work I can do, even taking the extracurricular sheet Mutou offered just for the excuse but even that was easy. I suppose that’s something worth being proud of. I ate through the physics and chemistry questions and even got a text asking for help from Hisao. I can’t even use Suzu as an excuse since she’s fast asleep in her room. I’d see Hisao but now Taro’s stolen him away, giving some line about the sacred ‘lad time’. So it’s just me sitting in the common room with my phone face-up on the table. I think it’s giving me the eye.

I press the centre button on the keypad and the screen doesn’t light up. Maybe I got luck— okay now it does, great, okay, I can do this.

Thumbing through my contacts I take a deep breath at ‘Home’ before pressing the green phone icon to call. No going back now.

It rings a couple of times before anybody answers and I don’t even bother trying to stop myself from biting my nail.

“Hello?” It's the usual greeting, but my dad, Kapur-san, makes it sound like a professional thing.

“Good day, father,” I say, faking pleasantness, but I’m sure we both know my heart isn’t in it.

“Oh, Mori. What a pleasant surprise. How is school going?”

“It’s uh– good, thanks, is mother there?” I maybe sound a little too eager to stop talking because he lets out a tired sigh.

“I’m afraid she’s not here at the moment; did you need something?” Despite my obvious haste to stop talking he still sounds kind of patient. A little caring maybe. But I’m still not sure I’m comfortable asking him for money.

“Well it’s not importa-“

“Whatever you need, I can certainly help you.” He sounds a little sterner now and I’ve seen this progression before.

“No honestly it really isn’t anythi-“

“Nonsense.” He snaps cutting me off mid-sentence, the authority in his voice makes me shiver and I wince a little from the shock. Then again, I was expecting it. “More, whatever you want to ask your mother, you can ask me.” It’s not a request anymore but carries the tone of a demand. I even feel tempted to just hang up.

“Well the three-day weekend is coming up and I was just going to ask for a little bit of spending money. My friends and I are going into the city.” I guess I’m giving into him by responding at all but something about his voice just always shakes me. How can mom love a voice so terrifying?

There’s a brief pause for a minute, then again another deep breath—he always sounds so exhausted. “Ah. So you did not think to ask if we had plans for the break?”

“W-what do you mean, father?”

“Your mother thought we should be coming up to visit you, Mori.” I can’t help but squirm in my seat. Luckily the common room is particularly quiet right now save for the first year waiting by the microwave tapping her knuckle against the surface below it. It’s frustrating me and I think I should say something and I need to leave now and- “Well, now I should have to tell her what you prefer to do. I do not think she’ll be happy.”

“M-maybe I c-could cancel?” I want to stop this damn stutter I want to tell him to back off and leave me alone I want to be braver than this but I hear his echo in my head, accusing me like Amir, like the world.

Is it still an accusation if it’s true?

You’re toxic

He doesn’t even respond just scoff and I can almost see him rubbing his forehead in his usual frustration. I think he knows he’s being unfair but it’s never stopped him before. I hear the faint sound of a door opening through the phone.

“Home hone-“

“It is for you.” Father even interrupts his own wife and I hear the rustle of movement as I’m passed over.

“He-Hello who am I speaking to?” She asks tenderly, but my throat feels like its sealing up and I can only really splutter out.

“H-hi mom, it’s Molls.”

“Oh Molly, what’s wrong dear?” She trails off near the end, the sound of whispers past the phone as my father tells her whatever fabrication he's made up. It sounds like a bit of a scuffle really, mom is clearly covering the receiver because I only make out muffled noises. Before long though she’s on the other end again. “Honey, I’ve got to go. I love you. Speak soon.”

I barely even stammer out a reply before the phone beeps in my ear to signal the abrupt ending of our conversation. I’m not crying or even teary eyed, just frozen and my hearts racing. The release from the call already dumps relief into my veins though. I’m not sure unsuccessful would even begin to cover that. As much as I hate my father I don’t honestly think he’d hurt her, tiffs like that are pretty frequent. He does love her, it’s why I annoy him so much I guess, I’m proof that she didn’t always love him back.

A few more first years enter the common room with me, the half wall divider between the lounge space and kitchen doing nothing to hide me from them and the girl from before is still cooking but I notice she’s got two white ear buds in that weren’t there before. I think that was a wise choice. You get a little used to the awkward parent/kid phone conferences by your third year and they tend to seem a bit similar.

There’s always someone worse off at Yamaku, maybe that’s a good thing but then again, I’d hate to be the person at the bottom of that chain.

A little more settled, I take a few steadying breaths and push up off the table and onto my legs, slipping my phone into my bag next to all the work I should hand in. The clock on the wall says it’s about 6:17, a point that correlates well with the amber hue seeping through the window.

I suppose I could just see if Mutou is about, he’s usually here till quite late. Anyways I could use a distraction.

Leaving the common room feels good, the atmosphere I created for myself seems to stay in the room as I continue to push past the door and into the pooling light before me. Not a lot of people are outside today, the weekend is basically a holiday and everyone seems to be getting those last bursts of work ethic out before they leave for wherever.

I hear a ding from my bag and fear the worst reply from my mother, wincing as I reach into it to check the display.


Again relief goes into me, as well as confusion, I thought he was with Taro?


I thumb a reply back to him, having only made about a fourth of the ground from the dorms too the school proper. “I’ll wait outside, not far along the path from the girl’s dorms.” I’ve mentioned before to him that writing in capitals equals shouting but considering he rarely does it by now I think he just struggles using his phone, so I just let it slide.

My new course for the evening now in progress I veer just off the path to the gentle decline of the school grounds. I’ve sat here before, it’s picturesque. If you sit up you can see the glow of the town below Yamaku, and on clear nights you can just about make out the meniscus-like curve of the city’s neon heartbeat. Even though the sky is orange you can see beyond it, to all those twinkling stars.

More importantly the foliage above breaks apart into the shape of a ravine, framing the stars in a scar. It has the effect of looking through a cone, focusing them and their brightness. Whilst I’d say I’m better at chemistry, nothing peaks my interest the same way as the galaxy above and around us. I’ve often felt extra-terrestrial on account of both my disability and obviously mixed heritage. We know very little outside of our world, of those distant stars and yet I’m totally captivated by them. Until recently I would have thought my love would always be unrequited, but maybe Hisao sees me the way I see those stars. You don’t have to know something at all to like or even love it.

Love it.

The idea of love still forces my cheeks to glow, it seems as far away as those stars up there honestly. Yet recently things have changed. I have a boyfriend now, one that so far has stuck around. I’m not a particularly complicated person really, but lately emotions have run high around my little world. Since Hisao arrived things have begun to speed up. If there’s a main character in life I’d wonder if it’s him, or are we all our own main characters?

Setting myself down on the thankfully dry grass, I stretch out my torso and spread my hands out into the sky tracing the constellations with my fingers. I imagine I’m quite a sight to anyone watching but you get used to the strange at Yamaku.

I close my eyes, stargazing behind my eyelids.


I open my eyes and sure enough Hisao’s now peering at me from above, his fringe dangling down but his cowlick defying gravity and refusing to fall in line with the rest of his hair. He looks bemused, quizzically squinting one half of his face which I’ve noticed is his typical confused face.

“Stargazing.” I reply to his non-verbal question. Which elicits a chuckle from him.

“With your eyes closed?” He snickers, moving to my right and carefully taking a seat beside me.

“It’s tiring work.” He laughs again to my response so I continue. “I love the stars.” I whisper twisting my head so as I can see him and the stars that fall behind him and the background of trees. His eyes slowly fall from the stars down to meet my own. It’s almost like in those deep brown eyes there’s another sea of stars that capture my affinity. He starts to whisper too.

“Yeah, I’m not used to being able to see them.” Hearing that makes me sad and intrigued so I raise an eyebrow in a questioning manner.

“I’m a city boy, you don’t really see the stars from there.”

“Light pollution should be a crime.” I whisper back and it feels right, to whisper that is. The night feels sacred somehow, Hisao must agree since his whispers have gotten softer to match mine. What a sight we must be. Though nobody seems to be around from a quick environment scan.

“I think everyone else is cramming for their next test.” Hisao murmurs, turning now to accompany my stare into the evening sky. “Shouldn’t we be?”

“It's physics. I’ll be fine.” After a moment passes I add, “And you will be too,” for good measure.

From this angle I see the bridge of his nose and the way his jaw sits slightly open like another charming line is on the tip of his tongue, but instead of seducing me with his golden wit he lets out a sad sigh. Closing his eyes he chuckles, like a kind of brittle laugh.

“Something wrong?” I ask.

“No. No.” Again he sighs, turning to face me once more, his complexion taking on a more uh, concerned? Serious? Strained? Yeah, strained look. “You just sometimes remind me of someone I used to know. Someone important.”

It sounds a bit saddened actually. His eyes narrow and he seems to chew on his words a little, preventing me from formulating a reply.

“They’re kind of, ah, they’re kind of the reason I’m here.” I would normally frown at the use of ‘here’ in that context, some students seem to see Yamaku like a bit of a banishment from normality, Hisao kind of did to begin with I think, but he doesn’t stress it in that way. No, he says it like, like…

Someone who doesn’t know whether to smile or cry.

Hoping I’m that shred of optimism in his words, I snuggle in a little closer to him, allowing him to snake his arm around the back of my neck.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Our voices are so quite now that I kind of sound like I’m whimpering, maybe I am. I’m truly glad he’s here though, sometimes it feels like my days are falling out from under me.

He responds by bridging the distance between us, his lips just apart from my own. The corners of my mouth tug into a smile, and I close my eyes again as his lips meet with mine, the warmth of our kiss spreading throughout my body and making the stars feel like they’re closer than ever. We hold our kiss, turning it into a separate second one to follow it.

I hope I’m not crossing some sort of line, but I tenderly lift my hand to his stomach and slowly steadily, drag it upwards towards his chest. He winces a little but before I can apologise and remove my hand he gives me a reassuring smile, and widens his eyes gesturing me that it’s okay. My palm lands on the centre of his chest, mostly hovering above it with the tips brushing the fabric of his shirt.

“I still wish you weren’t, though.” I hope he understands what I’m saying, I love having him around, just not, not under these circumstances.

“Well I’m glad you’re here too.” He says, as gentle as I was he traces his hand onto my hip and slowly, steadily down to my thigh just above my prosthetic. I do shiver, but place my hand over his interlocking our fingers and squeezing it. The feeling of his hand stooping to its rest on my thigh makes blood rush to my cheeks.

“I called home.” I state, keeping a tight hold on his hand.

My tone must have given the outcome away, because he’s smile turns to again a resigned sigh. This time he initiates the squeezing.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go so well?” He asks, unknowingly understating the conversation by a country mile.

“That’s a pretty good guess yeah,” I reply. “My dad answered and we don’t really see eye to eye.”

He doesn’t really respond to that, but the stars continue to shine behind and in-between the clefts of his hair, his patient teetering smile saying ‘carry on’ even if he won’t.

“You remember you asked me ages ago if my parents were both Japanese?” He grunts affirmatively so I continue. “Well, my mother works for a software company and has to travel round the world a lot.” It feels totally alien to tell this story, like it shouldn’t be my story to tell. “My mom’s a good woman Hisao she just, needed escape I guess, from my dad. He’s full on.”

I exhale and close my eyes, rolling my face to be under the stars again. Hoping my words will be carried off to them maybe. “On one of those trips she ended up getting pregnant with me, needless to say it caused some…tension.”

“I’m a bastard child Hisao.” I don’t cry it, or breakdown. I’ve had a long time to come to terms with it, after all if there’s anything positive to say about Kapur-san it’s that he was at least honest with my origin.

Hisao props himself over me with his elbow, looking square into my eyes and treating me to those soft brown ones of his.

“It doesn’t define you Molly.” I know that it’s just a reminder of the problems I caused. That’s who I am. It’s not just one thing Hisao.

The sky looks so beautiful right now, so… inviting.

“Things got worse after the accident,” I force myself to continue, his hovering head and eyes reassuring me that he’s here. I could stop now, I don’t think he’d judge me. But I want to know more about this boy, I want him to understand me. No fall without a push? “He and my brother started to blame me for a while… they were kind of right though.”

He moves his hand from my thigh to my prosthetic, tapping it to give a dull thud. I think that’d feel good for normal fully legged girls. “You can’t blame yourself.” He trails off a little, a look of concern flushing his face. “Molly?”

It takes a moment for me to realise why he’s making such a worried face, tears roll off my cheeks and onto my sweatshirt. I dab my eyes with the sleeves, my mind drowning in thoughts of fireworks and lancing headlights. I want to say more, of course I do. But my throat seizes up now and an aching pain races through my muscles. I need to keep going though, we’ve both been in the darkness for so long.

“I was a kid and I kicked and I screamed and I –“

He doesn’t interrupt me, but I feel myself gasping for air. Drowning myself in my own emotions. Still looking towards me patiently he rolls onto his knees and presses himself up onto them, diverting his eyes for just a second to make sure he’s steady, he stands up before offering me one of his soft, big hands. I take it and with his help, manage to kick up onto my prosthetics, wobbling only slightly from the tiny incline. He closes the gap between us and places the hand not holding mine onto my hip, half securing me in place and half giving me that extra calming intimacy that stifles my tears and quiets the world.

“I wanted to see the fireworks.” It not the whole story, it’s not even close. But it’s all I can manage right now, it’s a start. Hisao seems okay with it, he smiles as though he’s just learnt a hidden truth of the world. Leaning in to me with a kiss I feel validated in telling him, and something strikes me from behind those deep brown eyes, like they’ve begun to fill up.

“It’s getting late,” He whispers into my hair, breaking off from our embrace but keeping his hand on mine. “Can I show you something?”

“If your plan is to flash a crying girl I’d have to advise against it.” I sniffle, evoking a laugh from him as he guides us back to the more level path. I see his eyes dart around the surroundings like someone still taking it in. The night is a very different world after all. I suppose neither of us have the energy to fill this silence, so I contemplate the reality of what just happened. Opening up was hard I’ll admit, it wasn’t nearly everything I had to reveal, but it proved I could. Hisao’s been here for long enough now he deserves the secrets of Yamaku, the secrets of myself. Maybe he’s right that I’m more than just my origin, but I often find myself turning over a quote inside my head. “Who are you that you do not know your history?”

Before long the boys' dorms stand before us, the click of my legs denying any chance for stealth I could have. Luckily it’s still before curfew so we get in without hassle, passing Taro asleep on the couches (he really must have been tired) with a couple of first years carefully drawing what looks like a moustache on his face. Hisao looks like he’s about to jump in, but I quickly give the culprits a thumb up.

“He’ll laugh it off.” I whisper upwards, maturity not being my strong point.

“If not we will.” He retorts, and we spend the rest of the accent to his room giggling. He mentions something about a ‘lunatic’ across the hall from him but the alleged mystery man doesn’t show. Instead we hear the tightening and locking of various mechanisms from behind his door, so Hisao just sighs. I think part of him wanted me to see this guy. Part of me definitely did.

Standing before his door he stops, the keys in his hand twisting up and down between the knuckles, it’s somewhat impressive but clearly a habit. Somewhere between the third or fourth rotation of this routine it becomes clear his deliberating is over. He turns the key into the lock and the door opens quietly—a fact I jot down on my mental notepad for future use.

God, I sound presumptuous.

“Welcome to my humble abode.” He laughs, stepping aside to let me in.

Humble is right, the room looks plain and, well, normal. Like everything else about him it gives off no sense of disability, the walls are cream with beige curtains and his duvet screams plain blue with no pattern or design on it. Next to the bed is a small counter with a digital alarm clock and a series of small plastic bottles. I move over to the bedside table to inspect, looking over to Hisao as I steady myself to sit on the bed, he narrows his eyes towards the bottles. Taking that as confirmation to begin my scientific analysis, lifting each of them reveals them to be full, I can barely pronounce some of the names, on the side of each bottle is a list of side effects in little red letters. He’d mentioned before that he was on medication and it was causing him a lack of sleep but…

Dizzyness, light-headedness, insomnia, headaches, nausea…

Erectile dysfunction, violent mood swings, nosebleeds…

It takes me a while, but I lift and inspect every bottle on the counter. It’s horrific but I want to learn all about Hisao, his condition and anything I can do to prolong his life. I know there’s not much I can do in reality, but I can’t live with another death on my conscience. The thought shakes me.

“It’s really not that bad.” Hisao mutters to the wall, not to me. He knows it is. I do too.

Again before I know it I’m wrapped around him, the bottle I was last inspecting still in my hand behind his back. Unlike his confession before, the embrace is reciprocated as it’s met, the way I think a boyfriend should. I’m worn out, utterly. He may not have shared a secret the same way as me, but his message was the same. He wanted me to know that he understands the weight of living, the trouble of burdens physical or mental.

Holding me he falls to the side, laying us on the bed, kissing me gently all the while. My pain moves to him, and I hope his moves to me.

It doesn’t surprise me that he’s on a lot of medication, I think he mentioned a hospital stay before too. At least that I can relate with. I don’t know how to feel about them anymore, most kids here detest them but I don’t think I harbour that same resentment. Even if staying in them is the worst possible outcome for some students here I know that a lot of us are totally indebted to them.

“Can I -?”

“Stay the night?”

“You shouldn’t read a girl's mind, Hisao.” I joke at our coincidental same question.

“Scared I’ll find something I shouldn’t?” He asks, and while yeah it’s clearly a joke, there’s a genuine question there. I’ll give him a genuine answer.

“Scared you’ll find something yeah, but I don’t mind if it’s you.” I snuggle into him more, my face against his neck and my prosthetics ending just below his knees.

Since we’re spending the night together purposefully this time I decide to get my affairs in order, placing the bottle in my hand back onto the counter where it was then swinging off of the bed and breaking from our cuddle. After correcting myself onto my legs, I gesture for Hisao to get out too, which he does so I can sit on the edge of the bed. After unclipping the various straps and gizmos I rest my legs against the side table. It might feel a bit awkward but I know that my jumper will cover my underwear enough, so I unclip my skirt, twirling with my fingers to gesture Hisao to turn around. I place the green skirt neatly next to my legs on the left side and slide beneath Hisao’s duvet on the wall-side. He follows my prompt to get in beside me undoing his belt and buttons to take of his trousers. Unlike me his underwear isn’t hidden at all, so his stripy boxer shorts stand proud. He places his hands on his shirt buttons about to take them off but sighs and instead slides into bed beside me. If I wasn’t so knackered I’d probably protest the shirt but he’s clearly as drained as I am. I wonder if he’d try anything if we weren’t both knocked out, I don’t know if I’d exactly stop him either.

Things feel like they’ve progressed a hell of a lot since Hisao arrived, in fact they definitely have. With him I don’t feel quite so alien, from Suzu, Taro and the rest of Yamaku. Even Mutou has started to take notice of my knowledge in chemistry and physics classes. Perhaps that’s due to Hisao. I’m not a huge believer in fate, but I’m grateful for the way things are turning out. Time continues to fold out beneath the stars I’ve fallen in love with.

Out the window of Hisao’s room, a space in a sea of gold dust screams out to me.

Maybe two in a million lights don’t have to dim at all.


The trees and farm-worn lands of the rural countryside occasionally jump out from the shadows outside the train window my head rests on, faintly appearing as a holographic model before dissipating entirely into vast expanse of the dark night. Directly opposite me, Suzu lies, her head burrowing into Taro’s shoulder. Her brown leather coat is doubling as a blanket for its fur lining, and she’s resting her entire body on Taro’s non-paralysed side. It was her idea to get the Friday night train into the city instead of the morning one, claiming that an early start on a holiday was punishable with death. Sleepy death. I spent the majority of the first day of the weekend on the phone to my mother, a far less terrifying call then the previous one. She’s sent me some money for the trip and encouraged me to “shop till I drop” as she put it. In the end my mother is strong and independent, I know the money she’ll send will be hers, but I take umbrage in the thought that I’m making her cross someone close for me.

For Taro’s part, he rests upright in his seat, the hood from his sweatshirt doing nothing to hide the multiple layers of extra chin beneath the original. His choice of clothing certainly matches my own, as I tug the ends of my hoodie at the cuffs, curling my fingers inside the sleeves and propping myself against the window by elbow. As I’ve come to expect, an open book lies on the table, the pages pristine save for one crease in the top right corner for Hisao’s book marking and a small coffee stain from Taro’s sickly full-mouthed laughing fit of earlier. His attire, as usual, remains further from casual than any of us, with a neatly pressed shirt tucked into his beige pants and navy evening jacket folded over the seat behind him somewhat suiting the monotony of a hard-working student. Thankfully he doesn’t see my staring, and continues scanning each word on the page, his eyes glowing and a tiny smile tugging at the edge of his lips as he scans what must be a particularly good part. I can’t help but stare at the cut of his jaw, young but grizzled and thinned, adorned with such a tiny trace of stubble you’d be mistaken for thinking he was waxed.

“Enjoying the view?” His whisper focuses my gaze, dispelling the blur that just surrounded him, and I feel my cheeks glow red as I turn away. Unfortunately, avoiding looking at him means I cannot tell if he was teasing me or just oblivious as to my staring, but from his tone I doubt he was being sarcastic. Peripheral vision, I note, is not his strong point. “When I was really young my father used to take us up to see my grandmother who lived near the sea. We used to get the train and sit in silence, always a night train.” His reflection in the window catches me off guard and I turn to face him, now more composed than before, his gaze meeting mine.

“Did you visit often?” I inquire, more out of politeness then real expectation of an answer. The ornate but sedate wooden furniture of the train certainly adds to the reflective feeling of the moment, the dimmed lights and soft sounds of the passengers behind us, either jostling in their sleep or whispering to one and other all, mingling in the air like a pleasant buzz.

“No, not really, she died whilst I was still too young to understand, me and my dad didn’t do much together after that either way.” Again Hisao mentions his father, and again his eyes dim a tiny bit, as if something inside him is pulling a long chain of his consciousness. He creases the edge of his book, the paper folding into waves under his thumb. Taro starts to snore again.

You can tell a lot about a person by the books they read: 'The Picture Of Dorian Gray'. What does that tell me?

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I try to comfort him, but my eyelids feel heavy as I tug at his arm, pulling it against my body and leaning up to kiss him on the cheek once, all that my strength allows. I feel a tiny bit of discomfort as the stubs of my thighs brush against the prosthetics as we go over a bump in the track. I squeeze a little tighter and exhale against him. My eyelids fall shut soon after I see him grimace and shake his head clear of whatever thought troubles him. I wish I could do more, I truly do, but the lull of the train’s engine dully throbbing soon sends me to sleep against his chest. Besides, he sounded closed off to begin with, I doubt he’d let me dig that deep just yet.

We really know very little about each other huh Hisao?

But whether or not the throb is Hisao’s chest or the train, the night swallows me and the outside world shuts behind my eyelids. Far along the track the city screams for our little band of four. Adventure awaits, I tell myself, but with two rooms for the four of us and tension high between two of our members I fear it’s not just adventure awaiting.


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Re: Gravity-Molly pseudo route [09/07/16]

Post by SquishyYawns » Wed Sep 07, 2016 3:17 pm

Always a nice surprise to see a new chapter. This is one of my favorite stories on the site and it only gets better every update. Looking foreward to more Molly!

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Re: Gravity-Molly pseudo route [09/07/16]

Post by Dumanios » Wed Sep 07, 2016 6:56 pm

Interesting story so far. Looking forward to seeing more interaction between our two love-birds, and the inevitable family confrontation.

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Re: Gravity-Molly pseudo route [09/07/16]

Post by Feurox » Fri Sep 09, 2016 6:13 pm

SquishyYawns wrote:Always a nice surprise to see a new chapter. This is one of my favorite stories on the site and it only gets better every update. Looking foreward to more Molly!
I'm glad you're enjoying, it's going to be a push but I want to have act 3 finished by Christmas so hopefully you'll be getting plenty of updates regularly. :) And also glad to have been your first post (I think.)
Dumanios wrote:Interesting story so far. Looking forward to seeing more interaction between our two love-birds, and the inevitable family confrontation.
I'm glad you're interested, there should be plenty of both. The latter may be a little down the road but it's definitely the angle I'm most interested in. The question will really be, who's in the wrong now? Is it Molly, her Father or her brother. I do also plan to flesh out Hisao's family relations a little bit, not as a focus but definitely to some extent.

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Re: Gravity-Molly pseudo route [09/07/16]

Post by Mirage_GSM » Mon Sep 12, 2016 8:42 am

nothing peaks my interest
we spend the rest of the accent to his room giggling
a far less terrifying call then the previous one

And with that out of the way:

Thanks for the update. It was a really nice chapter, though I probably would have put the last scene at the beginning of the next chapter.
Emi > Misha > Hanako > Lilly > Rin > Shizune

My collected KS-Fan Fictions: Mirage's Myths
griffon8 wrote:Kosher, just because sex is your answer to everything doesn't mean that sex is the answer to everything.
Sore wa himitsu desu.

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Re: Gravity-Molly pseudo route [09/07/16]

Post by brythain » Mon Sep 12, 2016 9:13 am

Mirage_GSM wrote:
nothing peaks my interest
we spend the rest of the accent to his room giggling
a far less terrifying call then the previous one

And with that out of the way:

Thanks for the update. It was a really nice chapter, though I probably would have put the last scene at the beginning of the next chapter.
Apologies. Editor sleeping at the wheel.
Post-Yamaku, what happens? After The Dream is a mosaic that follows everyone to the (sometimes) bitter end.
Main Index (Complete)Shizune/Lilly/Emi/Hanako/Rin/Misha + Miki + Natsume
Secondary Arcs: Rika/Mutou/AkiraHideaki | Others (WIP): Straw—A Dream of SuzuSakura—The Kenji Saga.
"Much has been lost, and there is much left to lose." — Tim Powers, The Drawing of the Dark (1979)

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Re: Gravity-Molly pseudo route [09/07/16]

Post by Hesmiyu » Mon Sep 12, 2016 9:39 am

brythain wrote:Apologies. Editor sleeping at the wheel.
So you were driving the car Molly was in then?
The line below is false.
The line above is true.

Being disabled is just differently abled differently labelled.

My art:
Swim story(Currently 11 chapters long)

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Re: Gravity-Molly pseudo route [09/07/16]

Post by brythain » Mon Sep 12, 2016 9:58 am

Hesmiyu wrote:
brythain wrote:Apologies. Editor sleeping at the wheel.
So you were driving the car Molly was in then?
Shhhh... plot twist spoiler! :D
Post-Yamaku, what happens? After The Dream is a mosaic that follows everyone to the (sometimes) bitter end.
Main Index (Complete)Shizune/Lilly/Emi/Hanako/Rin/Misha + Miki + Natsume
Secondary Arcs: Rika/Mutou/AkiraHideaki | Others (WIP): Straw—A Dream of SuzuSakura—The Kenji Saga.
"Much has been lost, and there is much left to lose." — Tim Powers, The Drawing of the Dark (1979)

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Re: Gravity-Molly pseudo route [09/07/16]

Post by Feurox » Sat Sep 17, 2016 5:01 pm

Thanks for all the feedback guys, even Brythain's self insert spoiler. ;) I really don't like to post without anything substantial or a chapter, but I noticed so much feedback I just had to say cheers. And hello again sharp-0, good to see you're still interested man! Hopefully we can get a brief bit of sweetness in that dread hey?

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