I'm still, uh, going excessively strong on the writing, but I'm taking a slightly more laid back writing schedule so I can edit the massive amount I have hanging around now. I had help editing this from Munchenhausen, and Blank Mage is still working on his bit of the editing.
So, this is a route about a little utilized club in Katawa Shoujo, and, specifically, one character who doesn't get nearly enough lovin'.
Naomi Inoue is the epileptic classmate of Hisao, and one of the Newspaper Club's three members. Introduced alongside Naomi, is her close friend Natsume Ooe, arthritic and heterochromatic (and the avatar of everyone's favorite dev. or, well. my fave at least. I guess. Or suriko. Beside the point, though.)
There are a few OC introduced, but I'll leave them to the reader.
Oh, and, I uh. Wrote it in a narrative format, from the PoV of everyone's (least) favorite schmuck, Hisao.
I may write some scenes from Naomi's PoV too, but I'll likely upload those to my Shorts thread and link them, rather than clutter the primary thread up.
Aaaaaaand why this chick?
Nah. I wrote this because I was looking around the character sheets, and all the fan art. I've got a soft spot for underappreciated characters. And, well. The only real fan art I can find of Naomi is a picture of her and Natsume groping, and a seizure.
So, I decided to roll with the premise. Epileptic newsgirl and her arthritic friend.
I pitched the idea to a friend IRL, who had absolutely no idea about KS and still doesn't, in the form of the 1st... Ten thousand words or so, on this here fic (hence the fact I opened the narrative up in the hospital, instead of the point of divergence.)
He liked it, so I kept writing, and I'm enjoying writing it, so HAH.
- Scene 1: Leftist Perspectives
Hisao's first day at Yamaku kicks off, with a flop and a healthy amount of passive aggressive angst.
- Scene 2: Impromptu Interview
Hisao's class ends, his first day hitting casually. Not like a freight train.
- Scene 3: Dead News
Hisao has some extra sleep.
- Scene 4: Running the Press
Hisao hits the track for some exercise.
- Scene 5: Newsroom Engage
Hisao "joins up" with the Newspaper Club. Temporarily. Possibly permanently. He doesn't really know.
- Scene 6, [1, 2]: Oil on the Press
The final production begins on the Festival Issue of Yamaku's newspaper.
- Scene 7: Newsroom Engage
Hisao does some more work in the Newspaper Club.
- Scene 8: Empty Newsroom
In the face of boredom, Hisao goes for a walk.
- Scene 9: Where the News Happens
Hisao goes on a romp about the festival with the Newspaper Club.
- Scene 1: Yellow Scandal
Hisao wakes up amidst a scandal waiting to happen.
- Scene 2: Cyclical Story
The real journalism kicks into gear.
Scene 3: Interviewing Eccentrics
Hisao and Naomi interview a few of Yamaku's teachers for the newspaper.
Alone, in his hospital bed, Hisao dribbles over how and why he landed where he is now.
This section is purposefully smol, partially because it's a prologue, and partially because I don't wanna play with the Renai Line Count.
Days spent in the same spot, unmoving, wear on a person. The pale, sickly green color of the walls, supposedly calming, do nothing but put me in a bad, honestly terrible mood these days. I plow through these books on a daily basis, supposedly in attempt to calm myself . Hell, I can’t even make myself come to believe such a lie anymore.
It's a routine. The television didn't do much, so I stopped watching it. It was lively for a few, brief weeks. This mucus stained box was filled with “Get Well Soon” cards, balloons, and shots of both standard and extravagant flower bouquets. She showed up for a few weeks, maybe a month or so, the visits briefer with every passing day, but eventually stopped coming altogether. By the end, we didn't talk. There was nothing to say. She tried to catch me up me in her niche gossip, but I stayed silent. She informed me on new developments in her life and in all things otherwise, but still she did not pique my interest. I couldn't even bring myself to say thanks. Simple silence reigned supreme over that room of mine.
It's no wonder Iwanako stopped showing up: I never gave her a reason to keep coming.
A nurse stepped in, giving me a solemn nod, no more, no less. She closed the curtains as night crept upon us, whisking away my food, an entire meal practically left untouched. She sighs, throwing a wrapper into a corner garbage can. A basket made, maybe that’s why she left grinning. I can't say that I gave her a proper reason.
Moments later, I'm burying myself into the itchy warmth of the cotton hospital blanket, staring idly at the ceiling. I count the small jutting growths of the popcorn, some sort of cockamamie retelling of counting sheep.
Another faceless nurse comes into my room, pulling open the curtains. This time she lays down another tray. I take the juice from it and sip slowly, placing it back down and pulling the book from my nightstand. Without even looking at the title, I start reading rather quickly. Losing track of time in the adventures of a miscellaneous pirate, my lull is interrupted by the sound of harsh footsteps and my door all but kicking open.
My parents step in, with the doctor trailing behind. We all exchange greetings, generic questions like, “How do you feel? Any pain?”, and other such things. Small talk with no meaning other than simple ascertaining of questions they could all find out from looking at the chart at the edge of the hospital bed.
The doctor and my parents talk with each other, their voices filled with delight. I listen for a bit, making out words like academy and medication, but nothing substantial. It becomes easy to zone out again, my thoughts drifting around from the pirate book I read earlier, to my old friends.
I mean, I call them old at this point at least. They stopped showing up earlier than Iwanako did. Not much to talk about, especially considering how little I do. All we used to do was go to the arcade and play soccer. I haven't touched a soccer ball in forever, and I obviously haven't managed to break out to play any sort of arcade game. I've been stuck in my bed. I don't blame them, it's not like I'm exceedingly interesting, especially now.
Apparently done talking, the three walk over to me, bursting with grins, smiles, and all sorts of happiness.
“Hisao, we have great news for you!” The doctor motions to the chairs in front of the hospital bed, my parents both taking a seat quickly, “I believe, with assistance, you're ready to resume your life properly once more.” He hands my parents a clipboard, their expressions going grim immediately, “Here's the ahh, assistance. Arrhythmia is a hard to pin down disease.”
“There's... there's so many.. I...” My dad places his face in his hands, muttering into them as if they'll provide him some solace.
“Ah... yes, that is true... But, with hope and research, the list will almost definitely dwindle over the years. We'll need to obviously take close watch on your medication, bringing us to the next order of business, so to speak.”
The doctor paces around a bit, tapping the tail of his coat with the back of his hand idly, “You're able to attend school again, Hisao; this much I've already discussed with your parents. Your heart is recovering extremely well. ”
I immediately push myself up from the bed, propping myself up with my arms, drawing a quick hand gesture with a sigh of resignation from the doctor, “So I can go back to my old school, then?” I say, staring at him with ravenous eyes.
My mom glances toward me and shakes her head very slowly. I fall back into the bed as quickly as I rose, “So, what? Home schooling?” My mom shakes her head again.
“There's a school in particular we had in mind already, we're all sure you'll love it. It's called Yamaku Academy, it's a great place. You'd stay on campus, plus there's a 24-hour nursing staff on the off chance something does go wrong. One of my coworkers graduated from there, so I'm sure you can go on to do great things, even with your new limitations.”
That's just a real nice way to say they're keeping me caged in. Even if the cage is massive in comparison, it's still a cage. The way he sounds, though, I doubt I've got much of a choice in the whole matter. They've already got me accepted by now. It's not like it'll be that bad. Maybe it'll be fun. It's not like living in the dorms will be anything new, considering how often mom and dad are out for work. I already took care of myself.
“Sure.” One word to send them into near hysterics, I suppose. I bury myself back into the blanket and mutter some goodbyes before drifting off again, shrugging myself into the thick and scratchy cotton. I let the world blur.