Secret Santa 2020 - Story collection

[ProfAllister]

Well, it's right around Christmas, especially depending on your time zone, so here y'all go:

Dear Hisao


A small box, long-forgotten. Inside, a small collection of miniature cassettes - outdated even when they were new, but inexpensive and available.The memories all came flooding back.


Tape 1, Side A - 0212

*Click*

“Okay, so that light means it’s on, and it should start recording when I push th-”

*Click*

*Click*

“I think I got it this time. Does this work? Test, test.”

*Click*

*Click*

“Okay, now that I’ve figured out how this works, I guess I should get started. This feels so weird~.

“But~! The therapist said that this would help - if I talked to you, and kept a record of it. So that’s what I’m doing. Right here.

“So~! …

“...

“Uhm…

“...

“I guess a good place to start is to say that I’m sorry. The doctors say it wasn’t my fault. And no one at school seems to blame me. Even your parents have been treating me as if I were their own child. But I still feel responsible. And even if it’s not my fault, I still feel really really bad that it happened to you. So yeah…

“Sorry.”

*Click*


Tape 1, Side B - 0215

*Click*

“And here we are again.

“It’s funny, really. We barely talked to each other. I would just admire you from across the classroom. And you - you probably figured that I was the unapproachable one. If you had only asked, I’d have readily made time for you~.

“But that’s all in the past now. I’ve asked the doctors, but… they don’t know how long you’ll be like this. Days, weeks, months? No idea.

“And me? I’m not even sure what I should call you. I mean, Nakai would be appropriate, given our relationship as it is, but… what about what it could be? Before… all this… Just before, I called you Hisao, and, it was just a glimpse, but I thought you looked happy? Overjoyed, even~.

“It was probably just me imagining things, seeing what I wanted to see, but it’s just us here, and, to be honest, it’s kind of only me. So I might just call you Hisao.

“Or…

“Your mother… she calls you Hicchan. It’s such a cute name~. And you do kind of look like a Hicchan. Oh my, it makes me blush, talking to you in such a familiar manner.

“Shall we just keep this our little secret, Hicchan?”

*Click*


Tape 2, Side A - 0221

*Click*

“My, my, Hicchan, that was something, wasn’t it~? The whole class, sending their well-wishes with cards and flowers. It almost makes you forget the effort the teachers and Student Council went through to get it done. But still, it’s… nice.

“And now… well, now it feels like everyone’s used to you being gone. I’m sure your little group misses you, but even they realise they have to move on.

“It’s sad, really - for you, it’s the end, but for everyone else, well, life goes on. It has to go on. But don’t think you’re forgotten. I mean, one of your friends even made this guest book, so that you’ll be able to see how much you’ve been missed, i- when you get better. And look! Every day, it’s someone new, letting you know you aren’t forgotten! Isn’t that nice~?

“Well, not every day… And it’s not exactly crowded. But there are people that care about you, and miss you.

“Get well soon, Hicchan. We’re all waiting for you~.”

*Click*


Tape 2, Side B - 0301

*Click*

“It’s been pretty quiet for you, hasn’t it? That book I told you about? The only names in it since my last visit are your parents...

“It’s not fair! I know that people can’t put their lives on hold for your sake, but this is absurd! Even with everything I have to do on the Student Council, I can find some time to come and visit. Why can’t anyone else?

“I promise you! I’ll always be here by your side, Hisao.

(Muted sobbing)

“I’ll w-wait for you…

“U-until you open your eyes, and wake up from-

(Sobbing)

“C-coma.”

(The recording continues for several minutes, until the tears eventually subside)

*Click*


Tape 3, Side A - 0314

*Click*

“I’m pretty pathetic, aren’t I? Here it is on White Day, and I just can’t let go. The doctors are… not optimistic.

“You obviously didn’t know, but… I made you chocolates. Not just friend chocolates, either. The box is right there, collecting a thin layer of dust. Too much to hope that you’ll give me a return gift, huh?

“... Yeah, that was a pretty bad joke, wasn’t it?

“...

“Third Year will be starting soon. I… won’t be able to visit as often. I’d tell you to take care of yourself, but… well…

“...

(Deep breath)

“I don’t know if I’ll have the chance to tell you this, but… I love you, Hisao. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you! Don't go away, I beg of you. Never, ever go away. I love you, so please...!”

*Click*


Tape 3, Side B - 0323

*Click*

…

(Rough Scraping Sounds)

…

“Goodbye.”

*Click*


Tape 4, Side A - 0620

*Click*

“Dear Hisao,

“How are you? Everyone at school misses you. Almost all of our second-year class got put together in class 3-1 for the final year, so we are pretty comfortable right from the beginning of the year. I'm sure you would've been assigned to this class as well.

“The mood among the third-years seems to be very anxious about the final exams, even though they are so far away. The teachers are badgering us about it all the time - even old Mr. Tachibana who is, by the way, our homeroom teacher this year. Would you believe it? I was sure that he'd retire after our second year, but here he is, nagging everyone about studying for exams.

“I think things like that are the main reason why the mood among the third-years is so nervous. I must admit that I'm somehow losing confidence in myself as well, even though I've always fared reasonably well in exams.

“It's so weird to think we are already seniors, isn't it? Time has really flown past. I wonder where it went. The new first-years seem so young and somehow really innocent. I keep wondering if I was like them in my first year. I've been feeling nostalgic like this for the whole first trimester.

“There are other things I want to say. I'm writing to you because I felt that there are things I should've said after the incident back in winter. I really regret that I wasn't able to say them in person, and I have no excuse for it.

“I wanted to somehow express my feelings, but the right words didn't come to me. I couldn't say anything to comfort you. I am really sorry for not being able to support you when it mattered the most, even though I like you so much. At least now, finally, I can be more honest.

“If I could go back to those quiet days in February and March, I'd tell you to not give up on yourself. That's what I would say. Maybe you wouldn't have drifted so far away if I had just said something. I hope you manage to get back on your feet on your own.

“Now that the distance between us is more physical, it also feels more final, somehow. I wonder if we will meet again. Perhaps it's for the best if we don't?

“Still, I'd very much like to hear that you’ve recovered. I wish you all the best.

“Sincerely, Iwanako.

“...

“Somehow, I thought that would make this easier. Looks like it didn’t work.

“I didn’t mean to wait this long to come back. Things got so busy, and before I knew it a whole month had passed. And at that point, I was too embarrassed to come back. Pretty silly, huh? As if you’d give me a stern look of disapproval and ask why I hadn’t visited. One month became two, and then here we are now.

“My god, you’ve gotten so thin. And pale. I know the doctors are taking good care of you, but… it’s hard to see you like this.

“Anyway, I came here to apologise. And to ask for forgiveness. Forgiveness I know that you can’t give me. So here’s what I’m going to do: every two weeks, I’ll make a point of visiting. I’ll find something to talk about, so you can look forward to my visits. And if I miss one… Then I’ll visit two additional times to make it up to you. Because you’re worth it.

*Click*


Tape 4, Side B - 0704

*Click*

“I made it, Hicchan~.

“Guess what? Today’s my birthday. I’m sure when I get home, there will be a big party. But you know what? It kind of feels fake, the way my parents make a big deal of it. I wish they acted like I mattered any other day of the year. My father’s pretty important for a big company up in Hokkaido. They’re working on making inroads into business overseas. But even when he’s right in front of me, it feels like my father’s in another country - I don’t think I’ve been able to really talk to him since I was six. The few times he seems to notice me, it’s just lecturing me on how I’m not living up to my potential. And the worst part? He’s probably right.

“I don’t know. I just kind of feel like I’m drowning. For all my struggles, and everything I do, it never feels enough. Have you ever felt that way?

“...

“See you in a couple weeks. Unless you decide you can’t wait - that would be okay, too~.”

*Click*


Tape 5, Side A - 0718

*Click*

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m kinda using you as an excuse to escape from exams.

“You want to know what first made me like you? I mean, on a more personal level - not just ‘Hey, he’s got a cute butt…’

“It was a little over two years ago now. Back then, I was in the Track Club. I’m not even sure why - I don’t really have the legs for it. But I gave it my all, all the same. You were at one of our meets to cheer on that girl you’d always hang out with. I think her name was Mai?

“Anyway, after the race was over, you came down to congratulate her. I still don’t understand why, but you noticed that I was cold, and gave me your jacket without thinking. You’re always thoughtful like that, in your thoughtless kind of way. I know it’s probably really weird, but I still have that jacket. Ahaha~, I wonder if you even remember, or knew that it was me - I changed a lot that year, and I don’t think you recognised me when we were in the same class second year.

“...

“That’s a pretty embarrassing story, now that I say it out loud. I guess I am a bit of a weirdo.”

*Click*


Tape 5, Side B - 0801

*Click*

“Exams are over now. I can breathe a little easier. Summer break is coming soon.

“... I sometimes wonder - are you in there somewhere, listening, but unable to speak up? Desperately shouting ‘I am here!’ through a body that won’t cooperate? Or is it more like a dream? You’re hanging out in your own little world, having dreams and adventures while the world out here passes you by.

“I can’t decide which feels more sad.

“...

“Now that the end of high school looms large, my mind keeps wandering back to the Student Council. Did I tell you that I’m President now? It’s a lot of work, but there’s something nice about being in charge, working ourselves to the bone so we can accomplish big things for the school at large. Even if no one says thanks, it feels good seeing people enjoy the fruits of our labor.

“I’ll admit that this work ethic scared off a few members, but I feel that the people who left were only interested in making their university applications look nicer. I get so frustrated when people seek out positions of power and are then so lazy - taking advantage of the perks without putting in the work.

“I want to make sure it’s in good hands. So I think I want to try holding elections early this year. That’s not silly, is it? At least, not too silly?

“I’m glad you agree.”

*Click*


Tape 6 Side A - 0801

*Click*

“Surprise~! I came again early~!

“...

“Yeah, you guessed it. A romantic occasion and no one to share it with. I really can’t move on, can I? Half a year and I’m still in love with the boy in a coma. Is this going to continue for a year? Five? Ten? Fifty?

“I think about that, and it occurs to me - I don’t think I’d mind that. One more chance to see you smile - even if it’s not directed at me. Just to see that, I think I could die happy.

“...

“Yes, I know that people celebrate Tanabata in July these days. I just… have a fondness for the traditional date. I don’t know why. It’s such a beautiful story, too - two lovers, separated for an eternity, only able to meet one day a year.

“...I’m such a dreamer, aren’t I? Here I am, falling apart over you, and I honestly don’t know if you were even going to accept my confession! It’s amazing that the doctors, nurses, and your parents have been humoring me for so long.

“...maybe I should give up. You wouldn’t blame me, would you? No sense wasting my life here, right? I’ve got a long life ahead of me! I’m young, and healthy, and-

“And so stupid and selfish and unthinking. I can’t do that to you. My mind goes back to the second you saw me, just before everything went to hell. I can swear you looked like the happiest man on earth. So, until you wake up, please, let me have this dream.”

...

...

“Miss? A moment please.”

(Departing Footsteps)

(Muffled talking)

“...na...ko…”

*Click*

--------------------------------------------

As the tape ended, Iwanako felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around her waist.

“You know, ‘nako, I never knew you had those tapes, but I’ve got the damnedest feeling that I’d heard them before.”

Standing up, she turned around to face her husband, planting a quick peck on his lips.

“Well, you were there, weren’t you?”

“A cute butt, eh?”

“Oh, grow up!”

--------------------------------------------

Victim: Tetrax

Prompt: one of the katawa, after ten or so years, found an old recording of themselves "talking" to their future selves (topic can be whatever the writer wants)

A little bit of an explanation/semi apology. You see, this fic is actually something that's been floating in my head for about 8 years, from a much older prompt. As such, it's not exactly what was wished for, but this was probably the best chance I'd have for this to escape from my brain. Hope you enjoyed it!

[brythain]

Yay! A happy Iwanako story for once. Good for the season.

[NoticeMeOppai]

Christmas at Rock Bottom

Man, I don't envy Lilly the following morning that's for sure. It would be interesting to see what actually happened inside and Hisao and Hanako's reactions and feelings about it but perhaps it's better we don't know.

Twain

I love the parallels in this one, and the growth of Hisao as has been covered by others already. As always with your stuff I feel there's layers there that I don't quite grasp the significance of but I always enjoy reading it anyway.

Dear Hisao

An intriguing idea, well executed. It was fun seeing all the bits of the different girls in Iwanako's narrative and a sweet ending to what could have been quite a dark tale.

[Chatty Wheeler]

Hello ProfAllister,

Nice one! That was a charming, if a touch bittersweet, story. I like how you worked in some lines and descriptions from the original visual novel into this story. The way that Iwanako exclaims her love to the tape seemed very similar to Lilly's confession—maybe even word-for-word in some places. The ending was very lovely—Iwanako deserves a little more love than she seems to get, so it's nice to see her get a happy ending!

Again, this is a very well written piece, and I very much enjoyed it. Take care!

[NoticeMeOppai]

My victim this year was Emii. This probably wasn't what you envisioned when you wrote the prompt but hopefully you enjoy it anyway. I should also probably apologise for the awful pun in the title but frankly I'm not going to.

Simpathy for the Devil

Merry Christmas to all!

[Craftyatom]

I post all of my one-shots in my own thread, but here's my entry:

From Craftyatom for Mirage_GSM - Rising Steam

Hope you enjoy!

[Craftyatom]

Dear Hisao

I'm not usually a fan of "diary-style" stories, but I found myself quite enjoying this one. You do a good job of making the monologue feel weighty, without being overly dramatic.

And of course, as I'm sure has been said before, there are probably a hundred different endings you could've used. This one is very simple and wholesome, which (as brythian said) makes it an excellent choice for a secret santa fic!

[BristerXD]

Well, this was quite the crunch. And what a fun crunch it was. I tried really hard to do the best that I could with this prompt since it had so much potential. I really loved toying around with ideas for this and now all I can hope for is that the person it was meant for really enjoys it. Speaking of which...

Victim: Feurox

Prompt: "Two characters (that are not the main girls) see Hisao and his chosen partner at the Christmas Festival and reminisce on what a year it's been.


To be chilled and to be warm

“How come it never snows on Christmas when I’m in a good mood.”

It seemed like Takashi had finally run out of concrete things to complain about. Things he had actual control over. Things his actions and thoughts could tangibly influence. Of course, Takashi would say that this was a control he never had to begin with. No, he was painfully aware of the lack of control he had in his life. He was to be a forever wandering spirit. A self-aware speck of dust on the ever-winding mortal coil who has the self-awareness to know where he is yet is powerless to change his circumstance. So instead he channels his horrible pain into his art, dedicating it to reshaping the common world all the other specks see in the hopes of illustrating how things really are. Outline for them the pain in seeing the unalterable...

Taro on the other hand, instead of trying to come to grips with the incomprehensible machinations of life, was busy using his grip to bring up more fried chicken to his mouth.

“Well, I was told as a kid that a cloud’s rain was its tears so if anything I doubt the clouds are having that good of a time. Though I guess the teachers never tried to explain what snow was… Hey you think following that line of logic snow would be the clouds c-”

“Thanks for taking my emotional plight seriously Arai, nice to know you’re really listening.” Takashi sighed to himself, taking his indignant foot off the bench and standing from his philosopher pose.

“Well sorry for trying to bring some Christmas cheer to the Christmas festival. Next time don’t invite me to tag along if you’re just planning on brooding. Least I can do to entertain myself while you’re like this. Especially since everyone else seems to be having a good time.”

With outstretched drumstick, Taro motioned towards the admittedly jollier school crowd. While the stalls may have carried the same design they did from the school festival earlier in the year, they all had been transformed in some way to carry that good old Christmas spirit. Every fixture was adorned with light with certain rows chaining them up between booths. Some had ceramic Santas, some had plush hanging Santas, some had students dressed up as Santa behind the counter. Though everyone worked as if they were his elves, serving up warm dishes of broth soup, pillowy strawberry shortcake, and of course crispy fried chicken. And once anyone had their fill of the holiday harvest, they could amble out to one of many lit figures or decorated trees organized by the art club. A path that was clearly favored by the school’s couples. They strolled arm in arm, laughing at the most modern interpretations of Christmas lighting, gazing in awe of either their partner or the more spectacular pieces, and all the other things Takashi felt that he should be doing with his own love.

“Aw yes, why wouldn’t I have my spirits lifted from watching other people's joy? From hearing their cherry giggles and strawberry sweet nothings over the chilling winter winds as I just sit here, getting cut by that same wind, making me shrivel up solid like an old piece of coal. A piece of dead earth that is simply a vestige, a memory of a previous life. Well Arai, as that old guy said in that movie, Ba hambone.”

Takashi turned away from Taro in a huff, looking like he was about to storm away but instead he stayed put, hugging himself as the wind suddenly seemed to cut cold on the pair. Taro, still being warmed slightly by the fresh bucket of fried chicken, looked on at Takashi’s back. Instead of puffing out a big cloud from his mouth like Takashi the grump dragon did, Taro simply let a long stream of steam out his nose like an only slightly irritated dragon. But he wasn’t irritated, only stuck in thought about what to say next. He knew Takashi would be this way. Any sane person would know a grinch when they saw one. But Taro, in all his years being in school with Takashi, knew there was something below all the pompous pageantry.

“I see you’re taking cues from Lezard. Your inner turmoil must be serious.” Taro chuckled to himself, hoping to get something out of Takashi. He simply hugged himself tighter, not giving any visual confirmation that he even heard Taro. His bad ear was towards him. “Look, I get it, you got a lot of things to brood over. And me dragging you out of your room and into the bitter cold and blinding lights is hindering that. You want to be left alone. And I’ll be happy to let you off the hook. Just look me in the eye and say you want me to leave.”

Taro sat up, leaving his bucket to his side and pulling his arm in-between his legs so he looked like he was holding his hands together in patience. He leaned more and more, trying to get even a glimpse of Takashi’s face. For a while he still was curled in on himself but eventually he seemed to muster enough strength to turn towards Taro. He locked eyes with him, trying to give a determined glare. It falters faster than a poorly packed snowball. His back hit the bench and his eyes go back to the couples strolling the path, seemingly just having a hundred-mile stare in its general direction.

“...I know you don’t want to be alone Takashi… no one does this time of year.” His inability to put his hand on Takashi’s shoulder at that exact moment was one of the few instances Taro was truly angry at himself for being disabled. “Tell me what happened between you and Saki.”

Neither said anything or made a move. The footsteps of others crunching snow and the more distant murmurs of conversation become a form of radio static between the two. The falling snow started to collect on the upturned collar of Takashi’s jacket. Taro started needing to wipe away the flakes catching his eyelashes. It was as if they were just little dramatic figures in a snowglobe. A still-life story that would be stuck in a permeate state of melancholy.

“How did he do it Taro…” Takashi’s words seemed to hang in the air.

“Who?” Taro asked, expecting the opposite pronoun.

“Him.” Takashi pointed over back to the various couples walking the path. Taro didn’t really follow the direction suggested by the outstretched finger but quickly figured out who he was referring to. The boy with the very present hair fin. New boy on campus Hisao Nakai. And his lucky partner was the ever effervescent Emi. Both were bundled up like everyone outside with Emi having a rather long festive scarf around not only her neck but Hisao’s as well. It would have probably looked more fluid if it weren’t for the significant height difference between the two but that only added to the charm of the smiling pair.

“Hisao? What did he do?”

“Get better.” Takashi turned back towards Taro, eyes meeting once again. Though instead of trying to just look through Taro, Takashi searched for something. Like he was trying to ask a question without any words.

“Remember when he first came here. How he shoved his own foot in his mouth trying to introduce himself?” Takashi chuckled to himself, that moment being just about the only thing memorable about that day. “I mean you could really tell he was new to this whole ‘disabled’ thing. And for the first week or so he walked around like a lost dog. He never tried to open up or anything.”

“Is that why you weren’t thrilled about having him during that one group activity?” Taro responded in a light tone, happy to remember what felt like a simpler time.

“Yeah, kinda…” Takashi dulls for a moment, a flash of regret crossing his face. “I mean I thought he was just too moppy for his own good. Like he didn’t realize he was in a school full of people who had been there already. Just so happy to just sink in the mud and be... Plus, a complete nerd who made me realize how bad I was at science so I guess I was a little jealous too.”

Taro tried to laugh at that last part but it was clear that it was simply a distraction. Not only for him but for Takashi himself. He once described painting to Taro as the process of him trying to answer a question. Sometimes it was a straightforward one that only requires time to answer. Sometimes he needed to pull it apart section by section to get the answer he wanted. Sometimes he ran into the answer just by swiping his brush. It seemed he had one of those moments again, even if didn’t want to. And Taro just sat there silent. Waiting for Takashi to finally paint the full picture.

“Now look… who the hell am I to judge. Man has a bum heart is dating the school’s motivational pamphlet bait story track star. And he’s not just hanging around, apparently he actually runs with her in the mornings. Looks happier, started some science club all on his own, all after being dropped here during possibly the most hectic part of the year. And it’s not just him. Tezuka got picked by Nomiya to do some art gallery, Ikezawa actually joined a club, with people no less, Lezard got published in a freaking literary magazine, you started working out and losing weight like you always had been saying you would, and Saki…”

Saki. The ornament that finally broke the tree branch. Takashi, his eyes firmly fixed onto the pair of Hisao and Emi the entire time of his rambling, finally broke it to look on towards the girl’s dormitory building. There was a chance she was still on campus. As sad as the image was, if she was still locked in her room, there was still the chance for Takashi to make things right. To finally say the right thing, to apologize, to do anything to make her see that he still loved her. Or she could be gone already. Back in the company of a family she completely resents. Better company than the boy who had no control.

“She is… is still such a good musician. She was so excited for this album with Chisato. All she could ever talk about was wanting to record all she could as fast as she could and then… fucking Ataxia starts flaring up. All of a sudden she doesn’t think she can play like she did before. Starts worrying about the future, saying she has plans to…”

The tears hurt enough on their own. The freezing cold that made them feel like jagged knives cutting down his face was just poetic justice to Takashi. Even in his misery, he couldn’t help but think how he would draw this scene on the canvas. What color of oil paint would best represent the dichotomy between his somber face and the blink lights just above. He wished he didn’t have to wipe the tear away so he could see how Taro looked when he stood up and started rubbing his shoulder. The one thing he didn’t want to commit to memory for later was what the passerby looked like seeing him start to break down. He had to at least finish his thought before that however.

“After our fight, I went back to my room and tried just-do what I always do. Sketch something out, try to finish something, anything. Then I found an old painting in the corner of my room. One of the old statue in the city. I painted it when I first transferred here and walked around the city for the first time. I then looked at what was on my easel and saw… the same painting. I was so stressed out from everything that I went back to town to paint and ended up doing the same thing I had done four years ago. It’s like… everyone else is moving past me. New kid, armless wonder, toilet girl, human owl, all the people I thought I had figured out. But they, they seem happy. Ready to go forward and meet the world. Of course then Saki came into my life and that was enough to make it feel like I was actually going somewhere but now.. even she has moved past me. I don’t think I’m… enough anymore. I feel the same way I did when I first got here. Alone. Miserable. Like all I had to give was my art. And if that’s now stagnating with the rest of me, what’s left? Was I ever worth anything?”

This was usually the moment people started sobbing. Runny nose, faltering words, the kind of ugly cry you have when watching the happy ending to a family Christmas film. A part of Takashi wished he could just lose control of that. Lose awareness, get lost in a flood of emotions, feel drained of everything in his body. Instead, his own question sat in his stomach like a lead ball. A ball he felt like he had toyed with all his life. There was no Sisyphus like tragedy to it. Only weight. Weight that brought down only a tear or two at a time.

“Remember when we first met?” Taro asked, sitting back down on the bench right next to Takashi. “We were paired together in math and you looked like he wanted absolutely nothing to do with me.”

“You were asleep drooling in class,” Takashi said chuckling softly, “I figured I’d be better off with a plant for help.”

“Yeah, that really wasn’t off the mark. We both have always been bad at math. But even with a clear lack of knowledge, you tried to explain to me what you did know. You were a bit condescending of course but I found it funnier than anything at the time. I had never met a person who tried so hard to present themselves as something proper. Never felt like a hick until I met you.” Taro produced his own little laugh, remembering the conversation they had during lunch that same day.

“Is the point that I’ve always been an asshole?” While Takashi said in a jestful tone, there was clearly a part of him that worried that was the only correct conclusion to draw.

“No, the point is that you have always been you. It was that past me that managed to make friends with that owl looking guy across the class. It was that past you that willingly showed your work to a bunch of snobby assholes in suits. And it was just recently past you that managed to land a girl as nice as Saki. I’m sure you’ve made mistakes from our first day to now but everything good that I have seen happen to you has also been by your own hand. Quite literally in most cases. You are worth something, you made sure of that. You think you’re the only person who’s ever felt like they were going nowhere…”

Never before had an accusatory and patronizing question sounded so friendly to Takashi.

“Like you said before, I’ve been trying to lose weight ever since I got here. Doctors have been on my case for as long as my arm hasn’t worked. While it’s of course expected given my condition, they’ve always stressed a routine or something would do me wonders. And I ignored them, happy to coast on with my larger than average frame. But then I met you, just about the farthest thing removed from an Emi I can think of. Yet you still inspired me. Through your passionate talks of working on your ideas and keeping to a tight schedule, I decided to finally try and shed the pounds. That all took place the first year I met you. It’s taken me till four months ago to finally get under 250 pounds. And this is the first year I truly enjoy a bucket of Christmas KFC guilt-free. Things stall out, we slip up, let things get out of hand, everyone here knows that. And they also know wishing you were something else doesn’t help the issue. What does help is knowing who you are, what you really are made up of. Honestly might be harder than the former but, at least this way you have your friends to help you out.”

The two boys look over at each other, small grins on their lips and giant smiles in their eyes. Sometime during their talking, the snow had finally let up. The air seemed to finally be at a standstill. Taro reaches over to his side and offers Takashi a drumstick. Of course, at that point, all the meat had gone cold and slightly soggy from the snow. They both shared a look of slight disgust then hearty laughter.

“I guess I owe you a new bucket,” Takashi said standing up and offering a hand to Taro.

“Naw, I’m gonna take it as nature’s way of keeping me on my diet.” Taro gladly took Takashi’s hand, turning around once he was on his feet and taking hold of the now icicle cold bucket of chicken. He quickly dumped it in a nearby trash bin, wiping any remaining grease from his hands. “But you know, I can probably make room for some ca-”

“Takashi, that you?” A voice from behind sent both of the boys spinning around to see who it belonged to. It was Mr. Main character himself, Hisao, looking as slightly sheepish as ever. Taro was quick to step forward in greeting, Takashi feeling the sense that there was cosmetic karma about to be dished out with the arrival of his classroom foe.

“Oh, hey Nakai! Merry Christmas! We saw you around earlier with Emi, what made you want to ditch her warm company for us,’ Taro asked with a smirk, casually pushed Takashi up closer to Hisao with a nudge.

“Well she’ll be back soon, I just…” Hisao rubbed the back of his, a trademark sign of his awkwardness by that point of the year. Those wandering eyes that constantly seemed to look behind the pair was certainly a never before seen tick “I just figured that I should come over and say… Merry Christmas.”

Hisao stuck his hand out towards Takashi, offering with it a slightly stilted yet genuine smile. Takasi, taken slightly aback by the universe’s sudden change in its understanding of karma, quickly stops trying to understand it all and firmly grasps Hisao’s hand.

“Thanks Hisao, merry Christmas to you too. Though I hope this isn’t some sneaky way of making me feel back for not getting you a present.” Takashi and Hisao both exchange a quick laugh but Takashi’s face falls soon afterward. “You didn’t actually get me a gift did you?”

Hisao only snorts and lets go of Takashi’s hands, using his own to signal behind him. Before Takashi can take the hint, a small voice that he is sure to recognize calls out.

“Takashi…”

As Saki and Takashi locked eyes and sped up to meet each other, Emi walked back over to Hisao’s side. She clutched his arm and let out a girlish sigh.

“Don’t they look cute together,” Emi asked, giggling to herself. “Sorry to interrupt you man-date Taro.”

“Naw, it's fine,” Taro said, turning with the couple in their walk away from the rejoining one. “I actually hope you don’t mind me tagging along. I had a few questions about how you managed to get loverboy here in shape…”

[ProfAllister]

In the hopes of not taking forever to leave my comments like I did last year, let's comment on the current crop now, and move forward on more as they come.

Christmas at Rock Bottom

Reading your annual Secret Santa pieces really makes me wish they weren't the only fics you've written here in ages...

I'll admit a slight fondness for the melancholy theme of "fast forward to several years past graduation and people not quite reaching what they expected, and the fallout thereof". It's said that an Irishman is only happy when he's sad, which is probably relevant here.

Twain

brythain at his brythain-est - the nostalgic ramblings on an old man, coming from the mouths of teenage girls.

I will admit that the title has developed an unfortunate correlation for me. Whenever I see the word, my mind goes to something to the effect of the following:

One twain departs from Misquehoga station heading north at 55 miles per hour. Another twain departs from Cuyatonic station heading south at 70 miles per hour. Misquehoga and Cuyatonic stations are on mutually independent rail networks, and never the twains shall meet.

I'd apologise, but that would mean that I'm sorry.

Dear Hisao

Normally I just leave some sort of dismissive comment on my own work. This year, I'm gonna do something different, and present an alternate ending. Hopefully I overdid it enough that the bathos is evident

-----------------------------------------------------------

Though only a couple ounces, the rose hit the gravestone with the weight of hundreds of tear-strewn, sleepless nights.

She had never been able to work up the strength to visit until now. And yet the sight of the grave did not make it feel any more real.

Rain poured down in angry torrents, as if the world itself shared in her grief.

"Goodbye, Hisao. I'm sorry it ended up like this."

A few final tears, not of sadness, but frustration. Then, composing herself, she descended the hill, back to the warm and welcoming confines of the world of the living.

However, her visit was not unnoticed.

Standing under a tree on a neighboring hill, a man watched all that had taken place. Thirteen years, and this was the only time she had been released from the asylum. As soon as he got word, he knew where she'd go.

It hurt to watch. He ached with every fiber of his being to run over, hold her in his arms, and assure her that everything would be okay. But alas, it was not to be. She cannot know the truth. Too much of the past decade's work would be lost in a minute. It is better this way. This is how it must be.

With a sigh, Hisao Nakai walked away. As always, he was to be forever The Boy with the Broken Heart.

fin.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Simpathy for the Devil

An interesting way to turn the meme into the drama it was always intended to be. Well done. (But you seem to have been bouncing back and forth between "Tenshi" and "Tenchi". Ryoko would not... nah, Ryoko would approve, but Ayeka wouldn't.)

Rising Steam

Well, you managed to write a hot springs fic that managed to be more gay than the one I wrote which was pretty much two naked girls rubbing their hands all over each other, so there's that. :p

On a more serious note, it almost feels like you should have a trigger warning for overbearing families on that thing.

It kinda feels like there's a bit of an overuse of the Male Gaze, but it's understandable, given the subject matter and the idiosyncracies of the author.

Featuring Yuuko was a nice touch and very much on-brand for KS.

To Be Chilled and To Be Warm

A fun change of pace, and a nice hopeful note appropriate for the season. But I must strenuously object to the shabby treatment of fried chicken. Fried chicken is often better when it's cold/leftover. To toss an entire (half-)bucket like that is just criminal.

[NoticeMeOppai]

you seem to have been bouncing back and forth between "Tenshi" and "Tenchi". Ryoko would not... nah, Ryoko would approve, but Ayeka wouldn't.

Dammit. Fixed now, cheers for catching that. Not watched Tenchi Muyo I'm afraid though so not entirely sure what you were getting at there.

[Feurox]

Well, this was quite the crunch. And what a fun crunch it was. I tried really hard to do the best that I could with this prompt since it had so much potential. I really loved toying around with ideas for this and now all I can hope for is that the person it was meant for really enjoys it. Speaking of which...

Victim: Feurox

Prompt: "Two characters (that are not the main girls) see Hisao and his chosen partner at the Christmas Festival and reminisce on what a year it's been.


To be chilled and to be warm

A pleasant surprise to be sure. I make no secret of the type of story I enjoy, and my prompt probably reflects that. I'm glad you saw the potential for it, and I'm glad it went to someone who clearly enjoys melancholy reflection... Have you read much of Brythain's writing, by any chance?

This was a delightful story, and though I might find it a little convenient at the end with Saki appearing, well, it's Christmas (was Christmas),and if that doesn't warrant a little chrimbo cheer then what does?

What really spoke to me, and where I felt the story was the strongest, was with Takashi's initial opening up. In particular, this line got me:

“Get better.” Takashi turned back towards Taro, eyes meeting once again. Though instead of trying to just look through Taro, Takashi searched for something. Like he was trying to ask a question without any words.

Sometimes it takes seeing someone else to show us the world is passing us by... Takashi seems to be having that moment now, and while I would have probably written this reflection ending with a quiet realisation that, yes, sometimes we do just get left behind, I can't be upset that you turned it around - sometimes someone comes back for us, and sometimes, the world never really passed us by at all.

Anyway, this was a cracking tale - written after my own heart, and rather excellently done at that. Was it proofed, by the way? Only a few points read awkwardly / were typo's, but i was quite impressed by how fluid and well written this was. Good job.

P.S, I don't know if this makes much sense, or if it's even that interesting, but you seem to write how I used to write. At times, it purples, but then, I think we could stand to gain a little colour in the literary grey.

Many thanks mate, and good job.

[BristerXD]

I'm glad you liked it so much! I originally thought when I settled on my idea for the prompt that I was gonna be making it too heady and sappy for the general tone of the event as a whole. I did not expect to be the comic relief . But even with that fear I knew my idea for the prompt was too good to pass up so onward I pushed. And crunched which means I didn't actually get it proofread or even ran my idea past anyone so I'm glad it came out as smooth as it did. I haven't actually read much of Brythan's work, all the melancholy is of my own thought as well. Not that it should be a brag. If anything a concern for my therapist XD.

I originally had envisioned the story to be more about Takashi's artist-driven ideals affect his relationships and view of the world with Taro dragging him out to the festival to ground him once again, classic grinch's heart growing three times its size kind of thing. That's what I originally try to set up with the beginning paragraph being as verbose and pretentious as it was. However, as I kept writing I kept thinking back to that opening bit that took too much time and realize I kinda wrote myself a more believable set than I intended. So I kinda just freeballed it till the end, that unapologetically cheesy Saki ending always being the goal in mind.

That whole "world leaving me behind" messaging wasn't even my intention honestly. I think I was more writing Takashi's struggle with the idea of "I know I need to change but I too scared to so I'll just stay put." It was kinda the inversion of Rin's arch. Instead of taking the active path of self-destruction, Takashi was barricading his crumbling shelter. He has lost faith in himself to do to really fix his situation so he just keeps trying to plug the same holes in the ship. Taro of course being the person to remind him he built the ship, to begin with when it was good and it has traveled so far already. All that he needs to do build a new one and steer it better.

I think however our ideas naturally intersect and that kinda plays into what you mentioned right at the very end. I think we are similar writers and people just at different points in our lives. While maybe not by much I am younger and fresh onto the scene so maybe this reflects the old stereotype of the old mentor/hero finding the reason he started doing it all in his bright-eyed and untainted sick-kick. Or it could be us American's are more inclined to spring for the happy ending as compared to you grey brits. A multitude of factors can apply. Maybe it was destined for me to meet you in the snow- I mean for me to get your prompt.

Either way, it was great fun and I hope you have a hopefully less melancholy New Year.

[Hacksorus]

I haven't read all of them yet and idk when I will, but I just wanted to say before I forget that I really liked Dear Hisao and Rising Steam. The diary-style entries in Dear Hisao were engaging, and I'm glad there was a happy ending. And as for Rising Steam, honestly I'm just a huge sucker for well-written yuri.

I plan to submit my entry soonish. My procrastination vice is out in full force but I'm determined to get it out in 2020.

[Hacksorus]

Me: "Here we go, my first attempt at submitting something to the forum after years of telling myself I would someday. I hope the prompt isn't too hard!"

nuclearstudent: "Auftragstaktik"

Me: "Oh"



In this, my first attempt at voluntary creative writing, I attempted to make a short yet coherent story with this weird-ass prompt, insofar as it's even possible to bring a German-created style of military command into a story about a Japanese high school for disabled kids.

If anyone feels up to it, I'm always down to get constructive criticism.


*****


Looking out over the grounds of Yamaku on this, my first winter away from the city, I am entranced by its beauty. A light snowfall dances down from the darkening sky, and the reflection of the outside lights off of the light ground layer of snow brightens up the scenery in a way I've never seen it lit up this late at night. The pure layer of snow on the walking paths, yet to be tarnished by passers-by, bathes the surroundings in a glow of comfort and wonder. Has this beauty always been there, or am I just now seeing it for the first time? I have changed, I realize. These grounds were always a sight to behold, but I just wasn't ready to see it when I first arrived here. I feel an uncomfortable chill form on my face from being practically smushed against the window, but be smushed I must; if I step away, a glimpse of the disasterous room I'm currently holed up in will enter my peripheral, and the view will be ruined.

"What the hell, man?! I told you how dangerous it was to open those blinds! Do you want these walls painted with your brains? Because I sure as hell don't want to clean it up!"

A panicked voice shrieks out from behind me, waking up me and all of the two or three people who haven't cleared out of this building for winter break yet. Well, it was nice while it lasted.

---

Here I am sitting in Kenji's room, for the first time and, I decide in this moment, also the last. Not that the room itself is terribly offensive, really I was expecting much worse. Clothes that are scattered about the floor, pizza boxes stacked so neatly that I wonder if he considers it part of the decor, and a desk that doesn't look like it has ever been used for schoolwork. Well, I suppose there's also the hundreds of sticky notes on the walls with the names of various girls I've never heard of written in bright red pen, with about half of them violently crossed out. But I'm trying not to worry about those so much.

"Hey man, thanks again for sticking around," Kenji looks to be in unusually high spirits. "I knew you'd see the merits of chilling here over break. There's too much valuable intel kept in this place, I can't believe those bitches have the audacity to only leave a token force behind. With you and me in this together, I think we can make some serious strides in the fight."

I decide not to tell him that I'm heading back to the city to see my parents tomorrow. Not least of which because I'm bringing my girlfriend. Suddenly I feel a little bad for him. Does he really spend his Christmases alone here?

"Sure, sure," I reply, "So what's this big surprise you've got ready for me, anyway?"

Kenji flashes me a smile that one of my old friends might have described as a "shit-eating grin", and reaches into a paper bag on his desk. He pulls out a large bottle of what I realize is probably not something I'm legally allowed to drink. The label says "Jägermeister". Kenji looks at me expectantly.

Oh, god. Does my pity for this lunatic run deep enough that I'm willing to drink whatever the hell that is with him? At the same time, I have to admit that I'm a little interested. The me of a few months ago would surely have rejected this out of hand, but I find myself in a bit of an adventurous mood. Maybe it's another sign of Shizune rubbing off on me.

"All right, fine. Hit me." I say.

---

"..so I told that bastard, I told him, it doesn't matter how many hours you spend painting in that pansy-ass club with that clown of a teacher. It's all wasted! I'm telling you dude, he's just trying to get laid with all that art bullshit. He doesn't see the big picture. If he applied himself to something more manly, like rugby or baking, he could make something of himself."

I nod along with him solemly. I've decided to pace myself with the alcohol, because I really don't know how it'll interact with my meds. And maybe because I don't want to throw up. Even so, for a time, the alcohol made keeping up with Kenji's ramblings almost fun. Now, even my relaxed patience is starting to give way. Even so, I came all this way, I suppose it wouldn't kill me to play along.

"What makes you think he's trying to get laid? Maybe he just like painting." I say.

"Not a chance, dude. It's just like those frogs. Like, they're doing it to make themselves look cool cause their dicks aren't big enough."

"Frogs paint?" I ask.

"No, NO! The frogs croak really loud when it's mating season, cause the females know the loudest frogs are the biggest ones." Kenji's getting really worked up now. He's also wearing some sort of knockoff military officer's hat. How long has he been wearing it for? Where did he get it? What purpose does it serve? Those questions feel more important than the inane ramblings that are spilling out of his mouth like a foul-smelling waterfall.

"So the small frogs know they're gonna be wiped out of the gene pool. But- listen, this is really important- some of them sit and yell in drain pipes, cause the echo makes their voices sound louder."

"What does this have to do with artists again?" Trying to make sense of this is probably a foolish endeavor, but as the closest thing this room has to an authority on science, I feel a strange obligation to try.

"The painting is the sewer pipe, man. I read about it in a book once. The artist paints a bunch of gibberish and those women are all like 'Look at all those deep, important emotions he has, he must be qualified to fill me up with his genetic material.' They think they're so goddamn cool. Well, I'm not letting it slide. It's up to us real men to set the score straight."

"What about Tezuka?" I ask. "That painter girl with no arms. Is she trying to get laid too?"

"Fuck if I know. That girl scares me."

As close to a natural end to the conversation as I could have hoped for, I suppose.

---

"This is it, man. We're at optimum alcohol levels. It's time to make our move."

I start to ask myself what he could possibly mean by "our move", but quickly decide I don't care enough to try. I don't know about him, but I don't think I belong around other people at the moment. Including Kenji. Now that I think about it though, Kenji seems to still have it together, insofar as he ever has anything together of course. And this is despite the fact that he's definitely been drinking more than me. I suppose this being a regular occasion for him might explain all the missing brain cells.

"Come on, man, are you still with me? Get your shit together! Today's the day you harness your destiny as a key member of the organization." He's standing up straigher than I've ever seen him stand up, one hand adjusting his knock-off military cap.

"What organization?"

"Not the point. Anyway, we're gonna break into the student council room."

"What. What? No."

"This is the perfect time," He argues adamantly. "School security is lax, and since you're on the council, you know how to disable all the traps."

"There aren't any traps."

"Excellent, I knew I could count on you."

I'm surprised by how unsurprised I am by this development. Really, tonight had been too tame so far. If Kenji's the way that he is sober, I should have expected that alcohol would make him want to do something this stupid.

"Why do you even want to go in there, anyway?" I ask. "Do you have any idea how boring our work is most of the time?"

"You guys were in charge of processing the costume orders for that play the drama club put on last month, right? You should still have those forms lying around." He replies, his voice taking on an unsettling, excited tone.

I think I know where this is going, but I'm afraid to ask.

"And you want those forms because..?"

"The measurements! God damn. You can't be this thick. Do you have any idea what this means? If we know the girls' sizes, we'll have that much more insight into where they're hiding the weapons and cameras. And that's just the basics. We've got this one chubby girl in her class, and I have a feeling she's just a meaner, skinnier girl using a second skin."

I don't buy it for a second. Beneath all the neuroticism, Kenji's a pervert on the inside. But then again, would just the measurements be worth all this trouble, even to a huge pervert? Maybe he actually believes this crap on some level. I'm a little disturbed by how coherent he is in his own way, given how much alcohol he's downed.

"Do they really have that kind of technology?" I decide to humor him.

"It is during wartime that all the greatest technological developments happen. Steam engines, helicopters, the Sony Playstation. Everything! When the world wars started happening and they started letting women into the factories, that was when we sealed our fates. Ever since, the feminists and their employ of soyboy engineers have been hiding all the best stuff from us. Well, not any more. All of that ends tonight. Besides, I'm doing you a favor. If there's anyone in this school who's definitely wearing a second skin, it's that pink-haired drill girl."

I briefly imagine it. Misha, giving her iconic "Wahaha~" while pulling the skin off her face, revealing some grey, slimy monstrosity like those made of CGI for mediocre 90's movies.

"I've got it all figured out," He continues. "I will be the commander of this operation, and will take charge until we make it to the student council room. Then, as the man on the ground on with the most relevant info and expertise, I'll be delegating authority to you until we're ready to make our escape."

He describes this in a casual sort of tone, as if he's suggesting we might go for a picnic. As insane as all of this is, I feel slightly flattered by the fact that he seems to have this much faith in me. What's the worst that could happen if I play along, anyway? If he's got all this planned, he'll probably go even if I say no. This way I can keep an eye on him. Or so I'm choosing to tell myself.

---

Well, here we are. The student council room, in the middle of the night. Honestly, this is all going better than expected. Just like Kenji insisted, we encountered no resistance on the way here. Maybe it's the alcohol, but somehow Kenji knowing the schedules of all of the night staff feels perfectly reasonable. And who cares about that anyway, we're here now, and that's what matters.

"BAM! Just like that. I'm telling you dude, you and me, we got this by the ass! This school is as good as ours. I'll start at in the corner over there, you check these files."

..Okay, I may have given him too much credit. Nobody with half a bit of sense would be yelling now like he just did. And besides, wasn't I supposed to be in charge of this part of the operation? Given the fact that I'm actually on the goddamn student council, he maybe should be interested in my input on where exactly we should be looking. Oh, whatever. He'll probably just yell more if I try to change plans at this point. Hopefully we can wrap this up quick.

To pass the time, I take the opportunity to look some of the archives from before I transferred. As expected, it's not terribly interesting. If there's one thing I learned over my many hours in the student council, it's that paperwork isn't very fun. Even so, I find myself getting a little amused over how Shizune's and Misha's starkly different personalities can even be discerned when looking at the way they handle this menial labor. Shizune's pen strokes are neat, efficient, and consistent. Misha, on the other hand, is barely legible at times. Perhaps in rebellion of the fact that Shizune doesn't let her use her array of brightly colored pens for important council work, Misha seems determined to pack as much expressiveness into the stokes of her boring dark-blue pen as possible.

Man, what the hell am I doing here? Kenji isn't a bad guy I guess, but surely I could be doing something with my night besides whatever this is. I urge my still somewhat alcohol-addled brain to remember what Misha and Shizune are doing. Ah, right. Misha has already gone back to her family for the holidays. And Shizune is getting ready for our trip to my parents' tomorrow. She..

She said she had a few last-minute things to do tonight in the student council room.

As if on cue, I hear footsteps advancing down the hallway. I nearly have a heart attack, but then I realize that the only thing worse than dying in front of my girlfriend is dying in front of my girlfriend and Kenji. I half-sprint over to the large desk that Kenji is still rifling through, with the papers drawn right up to his face as if he's trying to lick them. I hope he's not, but I know better than to discount the possibility.

"Shizune's coming," I whisper in a forceful, rushed tone. "Hide under the desk, now!"

For once, Kenji's desperate fear of women comes in handy. After hastily shoving some of the papers into his pants- I'll have to mark those for shredding later- he tucks himself into his hiding place.

Wait, why was I whispering? She's deaf, for god's sake! Okay, okay, keep it together. This isn't anything I can't handle.

Shizune steps into the room. At first, she seems taken aback, but I flash her what I hope is a warm and not-suspicious smile. A playful smirk emerges on her face, and she comes over to sit next to me in our usual work spots.

[Well, well. I didn't think you had it in you. Sneaking into the school late at night? I could have you ruined for this kind of transgression.]

[You're here too.] I reply flatly.

[I'm the president. If a rule needs to be bent, I'm allowed to make that kind of call.]

[Then you could exempt me too?] I ask.

[Nope!] Shizune replies cheerfully.

At this point, I realize what the only logical call is. I need to go over to that desk, pretend I'm just finding Kenji now, and let Shizune eviscerate him.

At that thought, however, an inexplicable pang of guilt comes over me. Was I not entrusted with an important mission? Surely I could do something nice for one of my few other friends before I abandon him for the next few weeks. I just need to keep Shizune occupied, maybe get her out of the room so Kenji can escape. For that, however, I'll have to come up with a convincing story.

[You're late,] I go on the offensive. [I've been waiting all night for you to show up.]

[Oh, hush. I'm a busy woman, as you very well know. Why are you even here, anyway?]

[I thought it'd be romantic. Us, meeting in the empty building on a cold, snowy night. Doesn't it just get your heart racing?]

[Don't you think it'd be more romantic if you weren't drunk? Or maybe if at least both of us were equally drunk? I know you're not very good at planning dates, but I'd hoped you had a bit more in you than this.]

Damn. Is it really that obvious? At least she doesn't seem too bothered by the underage drinking.

Shizune continues. [Did you really think I wouldn't notice the clumsy, droopy hand movements? Or the smell?]

[Okay, fine. A friend offered me a few drinks and I suddenly got the urge to see my beautiful, wonderful girlfriend.] Really, it's not too far from the truth. I'm just ommiting the neurotic nincompoop squatting under that desk in the corner, muttering quietly yet discernably. Good thing she's deaf.

Mercifully, Shizune gives me a genuine smile in response to my blatently transparent flattery. [I'm in a good mood, so I'll accept that sorry attempt at being sweet. Now if you'll excuse me, I want to get this paperwork done. It's late enough as it is.]

She gives me a quick kiss on the cheek, and, in another stroke of luck, she walks over to the opposite side of the room from Kenji and the door. I might just have a chance at making this work.

Then, silence fills the air as I try to figure out my next move. Well, it had just been filling the air already, but silence with sign language doesn't feel quite the same as silence without sign language. The quiet is broken only by the occasional shuffle of paper by Shizune, and once by Kenji bumping his head and swearing. A more incompetent commander there has never been. All the more reason to take matters into my own hands; a flash of unusually bold inspiration strikes. Facing away so Shizune won't see my lips move, I call out to Kenji.

"When you hear me bump into a desk, make a run for it."

"A-affirmative." He whispers the reply, as if there is literally any reason to do so.

Before I have the chance to lose my nerve, I stride confidently towards Shizune. She looks up at me from her chair, curiously.

[You know, I really don't tell you this enough. I'm so lucky to have found you. My first days and weeks here were among the worst of my life, and you just about singlehandedly dragged me out of that. Being with you is worth having that heart attack. I love you.] I can hear my heart pounding in the silence. I hope that came out coherently.

Blushing silently with her mouth ajar, Shizune appears to be at a loss for words. A landmark moment.

[I love you, too] She replies with the most beautiful smile I have ever seen in my life, and I choose to believe I perceive it as such not just because of the alcohol.

Almost forgetting that this was all part of a plan that had no right to go this well, I move in to kiss Shizune. I make sure to "accidentally" bump into a desk on the way, and I hear Kenji bolt out towards the door. My plan required that Shizune and I kiss passionately for at least several seconds, and it doesn't appear that either of us need much convincing.

...

[Aren't you feeling strangely confident tonight?] The moment has only just passed, and she has already deigned to start teasing me again. [I'll admit that I enjoyed that, but you had the element of surprise going for you this time. Next time you plan on pulling something like that, you'd better be sober, okay? Or at least more eloquent in your romantic ramblings.]

I smile and nod in agreement. I've seen my mission through to its completion, and I did it by making out with my cute girlfriend. Not bad for one night's work.

[You look like you're getting tired.] How does she pick up on these things before I do? [Alright, enough fooling around. You need to go get some sleep. And make sure you drink some water first! I'm meeting your parents for the first time tomorrow, and we're going to get this right. I won't settle for anything less than a perfect first impression.]

[All right, fair enough. I'll see you in the morning, okay?]

I give her a quick parting kiss and walk off into the night. I make sure to take her advice and drink some water before finally going to sleep. I don't hear a peek from Kenji's room, so I suppose he's had enough excitement for one night, too.

---

I awake the next morning with only a minor hangover. I have to remember to thank Shizune for telling me to drink some water before bed. She and I are boarding our bus this afternoon, so I check around my room to make sure I haven't forgotten anything. With a bit of time to spare, I figure I may as well check on Kenji.

*Knock Knock Knock*

"I DIDN'T TAKE THEM!" Kenji yells very unsuspiciouslly from within his room. "YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING!"

"It's me. We need to, uh.. debrief."

The door swings open with alarming force.

"Oh, hey. Glad to hear you made it back alive. You really took one for the team last night. I'll never forget your sacrifice, and I'll be submitting your name for promotion next quarter for sure." He certainly doesn't look like he drank a near-lethal amount of alcohol last night. I'm only mildly disappointed by how well he seems to be right now.

"Great, I've always wanted to be awarded a post-humous medal." I reply dryly. "Listen, you still got those forms you took last night?"

"Of course! You think I'd lose such valuable intel? I was up all night transcribing it by hand. You can't trust the printers in this school, as I'm sure a hardened veteran such as yourself is already aware."

"About that. I forgot to mention that they're rigged to spontaneously combust if they leave the proximity of the student council room for 12 hours."

"Oh, fuck!" He runs into his room and returns with all the forms haphazardly bundled in his arms.

"Put them back where you found them, quick! And don't worry, I made sure to flatten out the ones I stuffed in my pants."

"Thanks." I try to put some enthusiasm into my voice, but it doesn't really work out. I'm still going to shred them. Maybe I should also burn them.

With that business concluded, Kenji shuts the door, presumably returning to whatever the hell he's planning to do with the intel we worked so hard for. Oh god, I'm calling it intel now. I need to be mindful of how much Kenji's rubbing off onto me.

Even so, I have to admit that last night was kind of fun. I even find myself wondering what sort of fun "operation" he might try to come up with next. As long as we're not hurting anyone, it's fine every now and then, right? Once again, I find myself wondering if my newfound proclivity for daring adventures has anything to do with how much time I've been spending with Shizune. Well, wherever this path of mine takes me, I'm excited to see it through. Suddenly, the trip back to my hometown- where my life once came crashing down around me- doesn't feel so ominous.

[NuclearStudent]

First of all, I want to say that I'm utterly delighted by your execution of my prompt. It's better than what I dreamed of. I'm a fan of Hanako Fancopter's Operation Bedfellow tale about Kenji, and this has a similar kind of absurd wholesome energy. I naturally expected the prompt to involve the student council, but involving Kenji is a logical and enjoyable delight. While he's an oaf in the base game, he can be a fun mirror to Hisao's straightforward nature when used well like you have here.

Yes, I could have stated the prompt as "write a story about taking personal initiative." That would have meant almost exactly the same thing, and it would have made your job easier. Prof wanted to send you a briefing, but I specifically requested that she give you no help whatsoever unless you directly asked for it. Auftragstaktik, as a concept, is about trusting the initiative of those you have issued orders to. It means being minimal with specifics, and letting people read your intent and exercise their own creativity in how best to fulfill it.

I'm glad you brought Shizune into the story, as that was exactly what I was hoping for. Shizune's agony is that she wears the face and attitude of an autocrat, but wishes for others to take initiative. She's always pushing, and always lonely. She's trying her damned hardest to get people to care about the council and for her own boyfriend to make love to her, but she has to berate people or tie them down to get them to do a thing. But the face of the seemingly uninterpretable, it is possible to choose love and service, and to generate the correct meaning from vague signals. Beautiful.

Kenji is a good addition that I didn't expect. He's a soldier who displays excessive initiative, without sane orders or guidance. Here, too, Hisao takes initiative and control over an dynamic situation, interpreting the needs of his command wisely. Kenji, I imagine, is a deeply lonely soul. I appreciate how Hisao appreciated his humanity.

Today I am proud to be a Canadian. Thank you for your representation of our great nation and our spirit to endure against all inanity. It is a long cultivated gift, brought by our geopolitical position. The world is a mad place, but it can be beautiful. You are truly wonderful, and I couldn't ask any more. God bless.