Post
by Roamin12 » Sun Apr 22, 2012 1:21 pm
At the time you're reading this, it's been a week or so since my last update, and I'm sorry about this. I unfortunately got banned for a week for breaking a rule on the forum I had forgotten about. That is why this chapter will go up later than when I actually wrote it.
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Chapter 5: Paranoia and Feminists
I'm bone tired after walking on my crutches all day by the time I reach the boys dormitory, and not to mention my shoulder is sore after carrying my bag the entire way.
The sun is now setting, casting long shadows along the school grounds, which is now reduced to only a few groups of students roaming around, most of the others have already migrated inside. They are more than likely hanging out with their friends in the main lobby, or maybe reading books, doing homework, and whatever else they feel like doing, within reason of course.
As I enter the boy's dormitory, I take note of what the other boys are doing. In the main lobby, there are a few televisions playing whatever show the TV stations happen to be broadcasting at the time, with several of the boys huddled around them bickering over what to watch. There are a few other guys reading in chairs spread out around the main lobby, many of them casting annoyed or sometimes even angry glances at the groups of kids arguing over what show to watch next or bickering to each other to change the current television station to another one. I briefly wonder why the ones who are reading just don't do so in their own rooms, but I shrug off the thought. People can do what they want, and why should they care about what I think about their logic? After all, I'm just a transfer student from America who doesn't have any form of reputation and I don't really belong to any group right now either, why should they give a shit about what I think? They shouldn't, hell even if I had either a reputation or a specific group I'm a part of, why should they care about what I think? They shouldn't, and they won't.
The room itself is pretty plain, for the most part, it just has the mentioned Televisions and chairs, not much else. There are a few windows and book shelves, and one of the TVs does appear to have a game console attached to it, it looks as if it is a PlayStation 3. I'm a little surprised it's not an Xbox, but of course I quickly remember Xboxs are mainstream in America, but Nintendo and Sony devices are dominant here, so I shouldn't be too surprised. I'm a little tempted to go play with the other guys on the console, but I myself am more of a PC person myself, and not to mention I suck at introductions, and I don't want to make things awkward and ruin their time. There is also a group of students playing what I believe are card games on a table in the back of the room, but I've never been good at card games, so I'm not attracted to that either.
All-in-all, there isn't anything I want to do in here so I make no move to join any of the groups, and no one makes any move to even knowledge my presence, which I'm a little grateful for, I really don't feel like talking to anyone right now.
I walk out of the main lobby and head down the hallways, looking for the hall housing the room titled 115. As I wander down the corridors, I notice they are much like the lobby, nondescript, bland walls, painted a dull grey, and in colour I can imagine they would be just as bland they are in black and white.
After a minute or two of hobbling my way through the corridors, I finally find my hall. It looks as if I will be sharing a bathroom with my dorm mates as there is a door labeled "Bathroom". I suspected nothing less, but I still hoped for private ones, as I hate public bathrooms, they really are my only major phobia. I quickly inspect the nearest room's nameplate, and to my pleasant surprise, it is displays the number "115".
Just as I am trying to fish my keys from my pocket, eager to relieve my shoulders of their burden, which is really starting to hurt, I hear one of the doors down the hall creaking open. I turn around a little awkwardly on my crutches to see who it is, and find myself looking at some kid with pure black hair, he is currently wearing very thick glasses that immediately makes me wonder if he can even see through them, because they are almost comically thick. There also appears to be multi-grey coloured scarf adorning his neck that doesn't make any sense, as it is pretty warm this time of year, and he also appears to have and umbrella in one hand. Said umbrella appears to have a sharp metal point protruding from the tip.
"Who the hell are you?" the kid with the scarf asks threateningly, his face having a look of severe concentration on his face, as if he were trying to make out details.
"He's probably partially blind." I think to myself, he has thick glasses, implying he has poor vision, but blind people don't wear those types of glasses, and if he has to strain to make out details, they probably don't make much of a difference.
"I'm Polk Benjamin, the transfer student from America, I'll be staying in this hallway for the remainder of the year." I am careful to keep my voice level, so far I'm getting the impression he isn't too stable.
"Stay there, let me see." He says, the threatening tone still present.
He suddenly steps forward, keeping his umbrella pointed at my chest, but not extending it, so he can see me clearly without having to lower it. He breathes heavily as he examines me, his breath reeks of the rancid scent of tuna, nearly causing me to hurl all over him. The point of the umbrella is on my chest, threatening to knock me over at the slightest push. I manage to keep my face blank, but my outwardly calm state is betrayed by a drop of sweat sliding down my forehead. How can I even consider being calm when some maniac with an umbrella is threateningly close to goring me with his umbrella, and he could probably kill me right here if he wants to, he definitely appears to be insane enough to at least try if he wants to.
He steps back, and I notice that his serious, almost maniacal frown is gone, and is replaced by a friendly smile. He tosses the umbrella to the side. I'm astounded my his sudden change in attitude. So far I'm almost positive he's paranoid and bi-polar. But I don't let my guard down, he certainly is very unstable, if I were to think any differently, I's either be a fool or insane myself.
"Sorry about that man, but you can never be too cautious with these damn feminists wandering around,." As he says this last part, his smile transforms into a disapproving frown, while I can't see his eyes, I'd assume they took a look of displeasure or hatred, given by the reaction of his frown and scrunched up eyebrows. Then I fully register what he had just said.
"Feminists? I can't say I'm familiar with them." I say, genuinely confused, I know what feminism is, but the way he addressed them, it gives the impression they are a life threatening group of extremists.
"You know, the feminists! You probably encountered several of them so far. They are cunning bitches, leading you to believe they can trust you, and then stabbing you in the back! But not before making you do their dirty work for them!" He says this with a intense disdain and hatred, his face looking visibly furious at the thought of these so called "feminists".
"No I don't know." I say dryly, wanting this conversation to come to a close, as my shoulder is starting to burn from the weight of my bag and from the strap digging into my skin.
"You don't? I thought they had a major presence in America! They do, don't they? Of course they do! My intel is never wrong! You're just playing dumb! They even outnumber men over there now! And now they do in Yamaku as well! 60-40 split, man! That is total bull shit! There should never be more women then men! The more there are, the more control they have, the more control they have the more firepower they have for when they finally launch their bloody campaign against men! And if they have superior numbers and firepower, they will eventually overwhelm us! And then all of us possessing the Y-chromosome will be the personal slaves to those double X bastards' whims!" He takes several deep, angry breaths after yelling this, as he spouted all this information in the span of about 25 seconds, a little less than half of what it should take for a normal human to expend that much breath in one sitting, if he keeps this up he'll probably die from lack of oxygen or from severe amounts of carbon dioxide present in the air, and if the latter happens I'll be dead too, and I'll be pissed off if that happens to me.
I thought they didn't accept insane people here, but it seems that I might have been wrong. "Uhh... I guess?" I say, I have never been good at social interaction, and having someone rant to me in an insane manner isn't exactly a walk in the park for me either.
"I'm glad you understand." He says, his anger dissipating immediately, "Welcome to the war effort bro."
"Sure..." I say wanting to get away from this guy before he goes on another rant, "I'll be in my room..." As I say this I turn around, open up my door into my room in a bit of a daze.
"Sure, see ya later bro, and my names Kenji." Kenji says, seemingly appeased by the thought he had someone else to join the war effort, "And keep you curtain closed to thwart snipers! You're a target now! And keep your distance from that deaf bitch Shizune! She will rip your testicles off and slowly roast them over a fire before eating them! In front of you!" He yells those frightening words almost as an after-thought.
After letting my bag fall off my shoulder, I turn around and lock the door, just in case Kenji tries to break-in, he seems capable of it. After locking the door, I hobble over to my bed and sit on it, laying my crutches on the floor and observe the room.
It has the same bland, grey paint as the rest of the dorms and only has a one-person bed. My acoustic and electric guitars lie on the opposite side of the room, leaning on my amp for support. There is also a desk with my laptop on it, charger and mouse laying next to it, and a closet is next to it, presumably filled with uniforms. No door to the bathroom, for it is across the hall, I'll have to walk across the hall to reach it, that won't be a problem though, it's easy enough to sling clothes across you shoulder and then go across the hall, open a door, close it, and then put said clothes on a counter, and proceed to take a bath. I hate taking baths, but I can't take a shower, as it's hard to stand up and wash yourself with only one stable leg to support yourself.
I'm tempted to play guitar for a few minutes, but decide against it as I wasn't in the mood to play acoustic, and my electric would be too loud, and playing electric unplugged doesn't have much allure to me.
I head over to my laptop to play a game or two on my laptop, but just as I am logging on, I realize that I don't have the access code for the school wi-fi yet, and I don't want to play against the computer or by play myself, so I decide against playing. I'll have to get the code for it sometime soon, as the internet is the main way I communicate with my dad and how I get news.
With nothing else to do, I crack open "Brave New World" and begin to read it, I get lost in the words of the book for an hour or so before I start to get tired, so I mark my page, turn off the lights and lie down in bed.
I sigh and close my eyes,trying to get to sleep, and hope I don't get hit by my insomnia, as it has been acting up recently, but insomnia apparently fells like being an asshole tonight.
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Chapter 6: Facade
My sleepless night was one of long, tired misery. Insomnia generally has that affect on me, lack of sleep in general has that affect one everyone. I lie down there, in my soft, comfortable, but unnaturally foreign, sheets, for hours upon hours of restless, silent, wariness. And by the time dawn finally decides it's time to once again return to the land of humans, I'm still just laying there, inactive. And I am just as tired now as I was when I first decided to attempt sleep, if not more so. I give an audible groan as I sit up on the bed, shoulder muscles still groaning from the lack of intact, un-torn tissue because of the previous, active day. Far too active it seems, after all, I am still unused to having my shoulders and arms being the primarily used limbs in a day full of movement. But there is a more stressful type of weariness present, a weariness that lays not in my physical form, but inside the recesses of my mind. It is the weariness of keeping of keeping emotions under lock-and-key. The lie of me being a calm, collected individual that the rest of the world observes. Normally I keep this fake skin on easily, but after the sleep-deprived night, as well as the physical exhaustion from yesterday, have taken a toll on my self-control. I know this because I realize I feel my pit of bitterness and anger swelling up inside me, ready to storm the surface of my emotions at a moments weakness in my battle-lines of restraint. This bitterness and anger that I have grown accustomed to hiding and holding in over the years, bound and limited in the dark recesses of my mind. I kept it up the act at all times, even when I am with my father, my few, close friends, and hell, even when I am alone. I keep the feelings buried, try to forget them, but there are time like these where I can feel the invading whatever part of the brain regulates a human's emotions. I can't go out today. I can't let my cover slip, the anger and bitterness that will show will be interpreted as a sign of weakness, and weakness leads to exploitation, which leads to despair, and this chain reaction continues for a long time, until ending in one of two possible results.
One: The easy, cowardly way out, you take your own life.
Two: You suffer through a dark, insignificant, miserable existence where you let others control you completely.
If the religions of the world are correct in their beliefs, the first option is merely a quick and easy way out of life, and straight into the deep, burning pits of hell. I doubt this is the truth, but there is a definite possibility of this being true, so this is to be avoided at all costs. But the other option is no better, your life as a whole becomes a living hell, and is in some ways, the worst type of punishment, worse that any form of god could ever conceive, even within the dark and unholy recesses of the devil's mind. Perhaps that is why religious figures around the world say that blindly following them, even if it costs you your life, livelihood, and all things you value in life, because they believe if you suffer enough in life, the devil decides to let you skip on the pits of hell and arrive at the pearly gates of heaven. Of course they paraphrase this in words that are no longer used, and sugar-coat it, making it easier to deceive those they preach the "truth" to. But even if this is true, is it really any better? The only thing you accomplished in life was bend yourself to the whims of others, even though most of, if not all, the time you won't know their motives, goals, or anything that may give you a reason to not follow them. And governments are exactly the same as religious organizations, they would love it if they had total control over you, a weakness to exploit, and start that vicious cycle.
It is possible I'm wrong, in fact, I'm certain some government and religious leaders don't think along the lines I believe they do. But, I truly think the majority want total control over as many people as possible, after all, power over humans is what people truly want, there are no exceptions, there are those who resist the temptation, even when they have the chance, the rest get it, or become the ones manipulated. Oh, the cruel, cold irony of it all.
I'm positive my views would land me in a mental institution on places, probably executed in many third-world countries, because at the end of the day, humans find it nearly impossible to find the truth of anything that conflicts with their image of the world. And I'm no different.
And this is why I must keep up this facade, never show weakness. Always appear calm, collected, and seem like you know what the hell you're doing. And that is why I need rest, to keep up this facade, this lie, that my life has become.
And I do wonder, is this just another scenario of the fate I have tried so hard to stay away from? Probably, but it's my only idea at the time.
But, the skin was getting easier to wear. I even have begun to actually, enjoy myself, I like being with people, I enjoy reading, I enjoy playing video games, I like playing chess, and I sure as hell love playing gutair. I legitimantly enjoy myself. Maybe this isn't just a second, fake skin. I can't tell. I really can't, and that frustrates me.
But enough of that, I need sleep right now, and sleep I shall, insomnia be damned.
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Short, but It does show Ben's dark thoughts despite his exterior attitude, hopefully you guys don't mind the direction this story is taking, but this is where I wanted it to go since the beginning.
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Chapter 7: Pain
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The rest of the day passes in bed, I don't even get up to eat, why should I, when I'm not hungry? Eventually the bout of insomnia is over, with me victorious, and I manage to get a few hours of sleep before there is a knock at the door.
"Benchan? Are you in there? Where were you all day? School is already over!" Comes a voice that seems, at least to my ears, to try and be stern, but can't mask the natural bubbly tone is so often associated with it.
I groan as I recognize it as Misha. Damn, I wish she didn't come, I only had four hours of sleep in the past 24 hours at this point. But it was enough, my barriers seem intact now, I feel much better now that the pit of emotions has been put back in its place inside the recesses of my being.
"Coming." I say groggily.
I make my way towards the door, not bothering to get my crutches, it was only a few feet away and my shoulders still feel far too sore to support myself on crutches, so I simply hop over to the door without care whether or not it is with or without grace.
"Hello, Misha, Shizune," I say, I should have figured Shizune would be here too, so far they seem as if they are joined at the hip. I keep my voice level and calm, but let a little of my grogginess slip into it to let them know they woke me up. I doubt it'll make any difference though, these two seem like hardcore students, or at least Shizune does, and she seems like she's the one in charge, "what are you doing here?" I say, knowing damn well what the answer will be.
"You weren't at school today! And it's only the second day!" Misha pouts, her unnatural shade-of-grey hair framing her face in a cute way, the pout really only augmented her cuteness.
"I had a bout with insomnia last night," I say, still keeping my calm reasonable tone "I got next to no sleep until about four hours ago, then you woke me up." I feel a little bad for putting it bluntly, but generally that's the best way to get conversations over with quickly. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that Shizune is signing to Misha.
"Okay, but you had better be back tomorrow!" She points at me in a threatening way, but just as it was with her tone, she fails miserably, and signs what she said to Shizune, who nods, looking satisfied at what had been said. She's the one should keep in my field of view during conversations, and not to insult Misha, but Shizune seems like the brains of the outfit.
"I will," I reply simply, "good-bye." once I hear a "good-bye" from Misha, I close the door and head back to my bed, happily anticipating the comfort of my sheets.
Once I get to my bed and lie down in it, I sigh, content on how that went, and go back to sleep.
*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************My alarm clock reads 4:00 AM once I wake up. Dammit, I guess sleeping since around noon with only one short stop would get me to wake up early. I sigh and get up.
I quickly take a bath, still a little frustrated at my inability to take showers any more, as it is pretty hard to support and wash yourself on one leg after all. Well, it's better than having to have someone having to help me get a shower.
I am just getting into my uniform when the door handle turns, allowing the door to swing open and nearly scaring the shit out of me.
"Who the hell are you?" I ask, making sure to keep fear out of my voice, and shoving down my initial shock down.
"Huh? Oh, it's you, the American. Ben, I think." comes a quirky voice.
"Yeah it's me." I manage to place the voice as Kenji's despite only hearing it on one occasion before, and I inwardly breathe a sigh of relief, I have heard about too many people getting murdered by psychopaths in showers for me to ever really be comfortable in a bathroom, especially a public one.
I manage to see him through the steam and notice something really unpleasant, something I wish I never will have to see again in my life.
His wang.
He is literally just standing there stark naked, not a stitch of clothing on him, except for socks, I manage to notice he is wearing socks before I advert my eyes, trying to unsee what can't be unseen.
"What the hell Kenji? Why are you naked?" It takes all my willpower to keep myself from yelling then and there. That would be a disaster, that would open the flood gates for the pit to storm the surface.
"I'm here to take a shower, why would I wear clothes?" He replies, aggravation making its way into his voice, I also take note that his eyebrows scrunch up, just adding to my suspicion that he believes this is a stupid question.
I just shake my head, grab my recently worn clothes, get my crutches, and hobble back to my room.
Once in there, I dump my dirty clothes on the floor, I'll find out where I go wash them when I get back later.
I grab my electric guitar, which is still in its case, put the strap around my shoulder, and throw my bag over my shoulder as well. This is slightly painful, but I only have to go a short distance with this, but I'll need someone else's help with the last thing I want to bring into the school.
I head outside, and knock on the bathroom door. I don't have much of a choice but ask Kenji to help me, no one else seems to be awake right now and I don't really know anyone else.
I hear shuffling from the other side of the door "Who's there?" comes Kenji's voice.
"It's Ben, I need your help with something. Can you help me out? I'll owe you one." I say.
"Sure bro, anything for a fellow freedom fighter." Kenji replies. He may be a nut job, but he doesn't seem like that bad of a guy, maybe I misjudged him.
I hear the door lock twisting to the right, the door handle turns, and the door gives a slight creak as it gives way to Kenji's slight push. A small amount of steam escapes the room it was previously imprisoned in, and hits me in the face, slightly startling me, but nothing that I can't easily hide.
"Thanks Kenji, I hope it isn't too heavy though, I need help carrying something into the school." I say.
"What is it?"
"An electric guitar amp, a small one, but it still is fairly heavy."
"No problem, my anti-feminist training routine keeps me as buff as a freakin' male model man! Except my muscles aren't artificial like the ones of those damn poster boys." he genuinely seems angry at his own mention of male models, and probably is even more so since he compared himself to them.
"Okay then..." I say trailing off, deciding not to question what ever he just told me, he'd probably just explain what he said to me, and I don't want to get a headache this early in the morning.
I turn around and open my door letting him in and show him my amp, it is a medium sized one, fairly easy to carry short distances, but as I can't really throw it over my shoulder with a strap, I need someone to help me carry it. The amp in question is black with about a dozen knobs with varying labels signaling each of their functions, all printed in English.
He grabs it and picks it up with surprising strength, maybe his "anti-feminist training routine" is more than him just bragging. "Show the way." he says, his voice showing no traces of strain.
Wordlessly, I turn around and begin the journey to an abandoned hall I had noticed earlier, and it is not the one with the chess club located in it, which I still need to visit.
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By the time I arrive at the hallway and select a room to put down my guitar and amp, I'm pretty tired, but a few minutes of rest should solve that. But Kenji looks just fine, hell, he didn't even break a sweat, and he carried the heavier load. I can't but be impressed at his surprising strength.
"Thanks Kenji, call me if you need help yourself, I owe you one."
"No problem bro, but I have to get back now, who knows how much damage the feminists could do to my intel if I don't get back there soon. See ya, and watch for those damn feminist spies, you never know when they're sneaking up on you!" He calls this last part over his shoulder as he runs out the door at a full sprint.
I shake my head at that, I doubt I'll ever understand him. My mind quickly looses interest in Kenji as I once again take stock of the room. It is the same, dull shade of grey that decorates the male dormitories, as well as the usual black and white, tiled floor that usually adorn schools hallways. There is one table in the middle of the room, along with four chairs. The amp is currently plugged into the wall, courtesy of Kenji, of course. The cables are in my bag, and even though I can only effectively use one leg, I should easily be able to get one of the chairs over there, set up the connector cable, and get out my guitar.
I ended up being correct, while it took more time and effort than it normally would, I got the guitar and amp set up and standing at the ready to start pumping out cords. However there is one problem, I'm hungry. I didn't eat all day yesterday, and on the first day I skipped out on dinner. But the cafeteria probably won't be open, as it is only 5:30 AM right now.
I sigh, I really should've eaten while I was awake yesterday, but of course I was paranoid about the "pit" making its way to the surface and letting all my anger and bitterness stored over years force its way out. Maybe I should relax more. No. I can't ever allow my guard down where the "pit" is concerned, I don't want to push every one away. I don't want to appear weak, where I let my anger get the best of me. And to keep it in check I need energy, which is why when my insomnia decides to come and visit, things get dangerous. I'll just lose myself in the music until 6:30, and then I'll head to the cafeteria, see if it's open, and head to homeroom from there, sounds like a plan.
I truly don't notice, or focus, on anything else while I play, all I pay attention to are the chords being struck on my strings, and the words broadcasted from my throat, right now, all I care about is the music. Music is one of the few things I have an absolute passion for, I may not be the greatest singer, and my guitar playing skills aren't at the level of many professional musicians, but they are enough to please my own senses, and that is all I care about. Many of the songs I play contain vulgar words in their lyrics, but I don't care to censor them. If I were to censor myself, that would interrupt the flow of the music that the writers worked hard to achieve, what kind of repayment would that be? And I doubt many people here know English, so the possibility of me being reprimanded for the use of foul language in the public halls is minuscule, and not to mention the fact that it is very early in the morning means that few, or any, would be wandering the halls at this hour, especially in one that appears to be abandoned, even at the busiest time of day.
The songs I play almost always have similar themes, dark, melodic, and have deep meanings, or least meanings that truly represent something other than want to "party all night long" or other themes similar to the one mentioned, otherwise known as the pop section of music that is so prevalent back in the sates, sure there are exceptions to this stereotype of pop music, but it does make up the majority. There are exceptions to the songs I play, after all, it is nice to play some songs that are just good head bangers.
Just as I predicted, nobody appears to have heard the noise, or just didn't come to investigate it, as the hour passes with just me and my guitar for company. With a small amount of reluctance, I put down my guitar, turn off the amp, sling my bag over my shoulder, which feels much better now, get on my crutches, and head out the door.
Thankfully, I remember the way to the cafeteria and head there, due to my nonchalant pace and the extra five minutes spent putting my things in the room I have already dubbed "the guitar room" I arrive at 7:00, and apparently that seems to be when the cafeteria opens, that is pretty convenient.
From the culture books I have read on Japanese foods, a common breakfast food is steamed rice along with miso soup, so that's what I have. Someone from the staff helps bring the food to a table I picked out. The table is located in a corner, and there isn't anyone else sitting there, which is reasonable since there are only a handful of other people here.
The soup and rice taste pretty bland, but not overly unpleasant to eat. I quickly scarf it down as my stomach has been demanding tribute all morning, and when I finally decide pay up, it quiets down, apparently satisfied for the moment.
I sigh contently and open by bag, and remove "A Brave New World" and resume where I left off two days ago, and am quickly sucked back into the amazing world Huxley created, a world filled with test-tube babies and where parents are unheard of. The latter causes the pit to boil, but without the mention of one the genders in specific, it cannot bring itself to try and take the surface. I put the pit back in its place with little effort, I am used to this by now, but it always feels so, unnatural. Like those feeling aren't meant to be kept in, but even if they aren't, I won't let them go. I can't lose control of it, no matter what.
I am about to finish up a chapter, and put of the book away when I hear someone sitting down in front of me. I quietly look up, and see a tall girl sitting down across from me. She her eyes are light grey and seem unfocused as she looks straight ahead, and at me, but she doesn't seem like notices me, how odd. Her hair is very light grey and goes further than shoulder-length, but I can't tell how far as the table obstructs me from viewing much more than her upper torso. Her complexion is pretty pale, and her facial structure has some semblance to that of Japanese decent, but also appears to be European as well, she is probably part-Japanese-part-something-from-Europe. I notice that she appears to be possession of a cane, as it is leaning against the table, some of the upper parts of the cane are visible over the table. and from what I can see, it is too thin to be for support, so I'd guess it's for navigation. I'd guess she's blind, as she doesn't appear to have noticed me yet, her eyes are unfocused, and she has a cane that looks suited for navigation, but not much else. This would also explain why she's here at Yamaku.
I close my book quietly, memorizing what page I'm at and lightly cough, to let her know someone is here without startling her.
Her eyes, while still looking unfocused, seem to acknowledge that someone is there, even if they can't see them.
"Hello?" she asks, her tone cautious and quite. I have to keep myself from chuckling, it may seem weird to other people if she starting talking to someone, which from her point of view, no pun intended, might actually end up being what she's doing.
"Hello to you too, my name is Polk Benjamin, the transfer student. How's it going?" I say this all keeping a friendly tone.
"Oh, hello Benjamin, my name is Satou Lilly. And I'm doing fine. I'm sorry to not have acknowledged your presence, I wasn't aware anyone was sitting here." Her tone seems friendly enough, and her speech is very proper, the latter is a little odd, as I usually don't converse with others like that, I prefer the more direct method of conversation, but to each their own.
"No problem, it was nice meeting you Lilly, but I should head to class now. See you later." I immediately wish I had worded that last part differently, but I don't hurry to apologize, if she's anything like me, making a big deal of her disability would just get her annoyed.
She doesn't seem to notice, that or she is just good at hiding it. "Farewell." she replies simply.
I grab my crutches, sling my bag over my shoulder, and head out the cafeteria doors, headed for homeroom.
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I walk in the door at around 8:00, 30 minutes early. Hisao and Hanako are still sitting in the back, talking, just like on the first day of school. I nod to them and sit down head to my seat, set my crutches on the wall next to my desk, and sit down. I notice Hisao getting up and making his way over to my seat. I sigh inwardly, getting ready for the inevitable interrogation.
"Are you okay Ben? Why weren't you here yesterday?" He asks, and I'm a little surprised to hear genuine concern in his voice. Why should he care? He's only known me for one day. Maybe he's just one of those guys who cares about everyone he knows, even if he barely knows them. If so, then he is immediately in my good books, for some reason I can't help but feel respect for people like that, as long as they don't baby the person they are concerned about.
"I'm fine, and as for why I wasn't here yesterday, I had a bout with insomnia on the first night here, if I had gone to school yesterday, I would have passed out. I did manage to get sleep around noon yesterday though, so I'm fine." I put on a small smile for emphasis on the fact that I feel fine.
"Okay then, just making sure." He replies, showing a small smile himself before turning around and heading back to his seat to resume his conversation with Hanako. I observe that he holds her hand when he gets back into the conversation with her. Interesting, I had better keep that in mind for future reference.
I crack back open "Brave New World" and manage to finish another chapter before the class is mostly filled and the only one yet to arrive is Mutou, he does appear to be the slacker type. But he doesn't seem like that bad of a guy so far.
I put away the book as the teacher finally enters the room in a tired-looking walk, and as soon as he reaches the board, he grabs a writing utensil and immediately starts his lecture without missing a beat.
He is talking about subatomic particles and things of the like, thankfully I don't seem to have missed much from yesterday, though I will have to ask him for the homework from yesterday, and possibly about where I can get the school wi-fi code, I do miss my Starcraft league matches oh so very much.
The lesson passes fairly quickly and he hands out the assignment. Once he hands it out he sits back down at his desk and pulls out what looks like paperwork. That seems practical, if someone has a question, they go up and ask him, and while he waits for someone to ask him one, he does his own version of homework. I would probably do the same myself if I were in his position.
I notice that Misha and Shizune are looking at me expectantly as Hisao and Hanako drag their desks over to where they're sitting.
"Come one Benchan~!" Misha's voice proclaims, sounding just as energetic and cheerful as always, she also has her by-now-trademark grin to accompany her voice.
"One moment." I say. I grab my crutches and hobble over to Mutou's desk.
"Hey, Mr. Mutou, can I have last night's homework?" He hands me the worksheet without batting an eye, I am surprised he doesn't mention me being absent. "And do you know where I can get the school wi-fi access code?"
"Okay." He says in his by now normal detached manner, and he bends down in his chair, and I assume he opens a drawer in his desk, as I hear something open from behind his desk, then I hear it close, and Mutou comes back up, a slip of paper in hand. "Here you go." he says.
"Thank you." I say as I slip the piece of paper into my pocket, turn around, and head back to Misha and the others, and I notice they had the courtesy to move my desk next to theirs, that helps simplify things.
"Sorry about that," I say as I slip back into my chair, "I had to get last night's homework from Mutou."
"No problem~!" says Misha, though this time I make sure to keep Shizune in my field of vision when Misha responds, to see her reaction and to tell who's talking.
"Shiichan says we should get to work on the assignment now!" continues Misha, or Shizune, I'm a little confused on how I should address when talking to them. That was obviously from Shizune, but Misha was still technically was the one talking, this could get confusing.
To save myself from addressing them in an awkward fashion, I just nod in the general direction of both of them and we all get to work on the homework.
It is pretty easy, and we finish with about 15 minutes to spare, I look around the classroom and see we are the first ones to do so. Looks we have the group that has a pretty good grasp on the subject. Or at least, me, Shizune, Hisao, and Hanako do, but Misha does have very nice handwriting.
Misha and Shizune start signing to one another, deep in a conversation none of us would have been able to follow, and Hisao and Hanako get involved in their own conversation. I merely look out the window, keeping a blank face, letting my mind wander, hearing what Hisao and Hanako say without really listening, just hearing the words used.
Hisao says something about Hanako going with him to meet his mom and dad.
Mom, that's a trigger word, that's not good. I feel the pit rising, attempting to break free from its restraints, but I keep it subdued easily. But then Hisao says it again, and then once more. Now the pit is three times stronger, now I have to actively fight against it, wrestle for control. I grit my teeth silently, struggling to maintain my blank expression. Then he says that word again, mom.
"Dammit!" I think in frustration, "the pit is really putting up a fight."
He mentioned the word yet again! Goddammit! The pit is starting to push, to rise to the surface, I can even feel some of the buried hate making its way to the surface.
"NO!" I yell at myself mentally. I need something to focus the hate on, it's the only way to get rid of it, something to focus on to subdue the pit. I choose my hand.
I press my fingernails against the palm of my hand, breaking the skin, but I don't let up, I need to suppress the pit! At this point I can feel blood trickling down my hand, the warm liquid making its way down my skin and hitting the floor once it separates itself from me, but it's not enough. I do the same to my other hand, I focus on the pain, try to subdue the pit. It STILL isn't enough! Even when I break the skin and have blood trickling down both of my hands, the pit still advances! At this point, my blank stare is gone, it is now filled with agony. A bead of sweat traverses across my face, and falls off my nose. I have no choice, I have to inflict more pain, I must redirect the hate that has escaped and keep my mind focused on the pain, to keep it off the thought of the trigger word.
As I think this, I feel a hand shake my shoulder. "Benchan? Are you okay?" Comes a voice full of concern, I recognize it as Misha's, but I don't look at her, if I do, then the pit will direct its anger at her, and I can't let it do that.
The pit continues to rise, I need more pain to focus it on, to redirect it. I really have no other choice. I bit on my bottom lip as hard as I can, and blood explodes from it as it splits open, dousing the front of my shirt in my own lifeblood.
"Ben!" I can't tell who it is at this point, my brain has given up hope at deciphering the tone or who the voice belongs to due to the pain. By now there is a sizable pool of blood at my feet, from my hands, which are now missing several layers of skin as blood pours from it, and from my bottom lip as my heart continues to pump blood northwards and into my head.
I hear voices, but the pain is too great for me to even decipher what is being said at this point.
I don't let up on my hands or bottom lip, skin and flesh giving way to body parts that it often works with to make a cohesive unit. My fingernails have dug up into my own flesh after penetrating the surface, the pain is unbearable, but I don't let up.
Of course I haven't lost enough blood at this point to endanger me, or even cause me to faint. So once I feel darkness surround me, I know I am about feint from the pain, not blood loss.
"But it was worth it," I think, as I fall from my seat to the floor, on a collision course straight into my own pool of blood on the floor. I beat the pit, and I will never let it win, I will never let it rise, I will not let it control me, no matter the cost. But there is a down side, I let my weakness show, and I let my facade slip, that might complicate things. But I will not let that damnable pit of hate and bitterness win, I will not lose to it. These are my last thought as my head connects with the puddle of my own blood.
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NOTE: Before someone mentions how Lilly leaves for Iverness in the cannon, since it looks like Hisao has taken the Hanako good path, don't worry I have an explanation for that later in the story.
First Play through: Lilly>Hanako>Emi>Rin>Shizune
Second Play Through: Hanako>Rin>Lilly>Shizune>Emi
I'm a music enthusiast.
