Helbereth's Short Shorts

[Helbereth]

Index
Yuuko's Hectic Sunday

Sunday mornings are always hectic, but this is becoming ridiculous. Usually the Shanghai is nice and peaceful, but, with the festival up at the school and the crowd it brings, I've been on my feet running around for two hours straight.

I haven't had this much to do, or this much I could possibly screw up, in months. All the booths are filled with people -few I really recognize- and most of the dining room is crowded with parents visiting for the weekend.

I need this job.

Carrying hot tea across the empty room is usually enough of a clumsy chore, but having to step around and under all these people is making my head spin. Of course, the moment I start thinking clumsy thoughts, my feet decide to catch on someone's foot and I nearly stumble; the tea pot isn't so lucky.

Watching it crash to the floor, spilling its contents across the tiles, I have to cover my mouth to prevent the stream of profanity from leaving my lips. The crowd goes from idle chatter to a roar of gasps, followed by more than a few laughs.

Embarrassed beyond the ability to speak, I duck down and grab the pot, nearly burning my hand on the side as I throw myself into a series of apologetic bows and shuffle toward the back room for some towels.

Steadying myself on the wall once I've gotten through the door, I take a deep breath. As I'm pulling down a pair of towels, the door behind me creaks, and I nearly jump when a gruff voice says soothingly, "Yuuko, are you alright?"

Turning, I recognize Akio Mutou immediately. He comes in here on most Sundays on his way to visit his brother, and we've talked a bit about my aspirations, but he's never seemed particularly interested.

"I'll be fine," I respond, offering another apologetic bow, "it's my job."

"Here," he says, reaching for the towels in my hand, "I'll go clean up that mess while-"

"No!" I retort, "I couldn't let you-"

"It's fine, you handle the customers; this place is a zoo." He gestures toward the door, taking the towels from my hand. "Besides, I owe you for listening to me drone on about my brother."

Usually, I wouldn't dare accept help from someone with my work -certainly not a teacher- but his determined look tells me I wouldn't be doing anyone any favors by arguing. "Okay," I say meekly.

"Don't try to hold the weight of the world," he says as I step through the door, "especially not when you have willing friends."

It's corny and probably not entirely true, but I smile anyway. Feeling overwhelmed most of the time is just something I'm used to, but sometimes I really wish he were right.

Maybe he is...

[Total Destruction]

How the hell didn't I read this one before. I gotta be the least observant man alive.

It's pretty killer. I think I could get used to Katawa Shoujo as a nasty, pulp fiction noir story.

"She was a pushy dame, but she had a case, and a set of drills like none I'd ever seen."

*cue slow, wailing saxophone*

[Helbereth]

Index
Mutou Has A Smoke Break

Grading tests is something I usually enjoy doing, but, with the days getting shorter and my finding myself staying until after dark on most evenings, I've grown weary of the monotony. At this time every night, I find myself headed out to the school roof, cigarettes in hand; if I were a man of faith, I might call this a ritual.

Cool night air rolls across the rooftop on a gentle November breeze as I step out onto the gravel-laden rooftop. Nightfall comes earlier and earlier this time of year, but that isn't about to stop me from spending ten minutes in nicotine bliss. Actually, with the city lights so far away, I ought to bring my telescope out here some nights; the view is fantastic.

This evening, however, I'm not expecting the door to open as I light my first cigarette. The students usually don't come up here this late at night, so I'm hardly surprised to see Miss Miyagi huddling under her sweater as she steps out into the moonlight.

Standing as I am, shadowed under the edge of the building, I don't think she can see me apart from the burning red tip of my cigarette. Lifting it to take another drag, I see her jump slightly and let out a nervous laugh.

"Akio, you scared me!" she scolds, offering a delightfully curled lip instead of a pointed finger; she's not used to the cold.

"Sorry," I reply, stepping out from beneath the shadow. "Out for a walk?" I inquire, looking her over, "usually don't see you up here."

"Needed some air," she replies, "you wouldn't believe some of the things my students write in their essays."

"Oh, I think I'd believe it," I retort with a cheerful laugh.

"Any chance I could steal one of those?" she asks, lofting a hand to indicate my cigarette.

"You don't smoke."

"Not anymore."

"I shouldn't get you started again."

"Just give me one!" her tone shifts from slightly annoyed to curt, "I need to relax!"

"Okay, okay," I reply, shaking my head as I delve into my pack.

Taking the cigarette from my hand, she leans against the wall and sighs, "Sorry, it's not you," she scoffs, "it's those damn kids! I swear they're trying to give me a coronary!"

"Calm down," I advise, "here."

Cupping the end with my hand, I flick my lighter and hold it for her to catch a light. Taking a long drag, she doesn't even cough at all as she breathes it in and slowly blows out a stream of smoke into the wind. Huddling her arms again, she closes her eyes and falls silent.

Leaning back against the wall, I take another drag and stare up at the star-field. Miyagi stays for a few minutes longer, then stomps the cigarette out and heads for the door. Watching her go, I wonder if I may have inadvertently caused her to start smoking again, but it's hardly my place to judge her.

I really should quit...

[Helbereth]

Index
Walking with Miki

Takashi needs to die.

Whatever the hell was I thinking, listening to advice from that pretentious twerp was definitely a mistake. Maybe it's not really his fault, but after spending half this evening apologizing for being so stupid, I need someone to blame.

She's still here, though; that might be a good sign.

Then again, I can tell from the look on her face she hates being out here in the middle of the city. Maybe I should have thought of that, but I barely knew how to ask her out, never mind contemplate the destination. When Takashi suggested taking Suzu to the movies, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable solution.

Soldiering on, I find her grip on my hand tightening as we approach the crosswalk. Whether it's because she's scared or because of the company, I'm not really sure; I'd like to think it's because she likes me, but I'm not about to assume anything. The constant stream of gibberish I've been spewing since we stepped off the bus probably isn't helping, but this whole situation is entirely uncomfortable; I just wish I could think of something interesting to say.

When I step off the curb, I feel Suzu hesitating and I stop my inane babble to look back. Now she's making that adorable pout I can't seem to get enough of, looking between me and the line of cars backed up down the busy street.

“Hey, c'mon,” I try prompting, but she doesn't budge.

Great job, Miki, you've made her go catatonic.

“Promise you won't let go!” she whispers hoarsely, her meek voice filled with frustration.

The suddenness of her statement, and the wispy stare she sets on me makes it hard to reply, but I muster the courage to reassure her, “I'm not going anywhere without you.”

In my confused state, I try holding up my other hand to give her a thumbs up, but I end up just grinning like an idiot. After a tense moment, she begins to follow tentatively, pulling my arm around hers and averting her eyes from the drivers waiting for us to cross.

I'm gonna take her grip as a good sign.

[Helbereth]

Index

Misha's Midnight Encounter

My eyes shoot open as an incoherent wail echoes from the hall outside. Sitting up in bed, I stare at the door like I might be able to see through it, but that's just silly. The dark walls make the open window stand out, the sky beyond covered with a foggy haze. Hearing the mournful wail again, I try to listen, but it's getting further away.

“Shicchan?” I whisper into the darkness, forgetting myself.

Taking the blankets with me, wrapping them over my shoulder, I stand and head for the door, determined to find the source of that strange sound. Grasping the doorknob, I feel a blast of chill air brush across my neck, making the hairs there stand on end.

It's just from the window... it's just from the window.

Pulling the door open, I wince at the creaking noise it makes; Jigocchan ought to fix that. Stepping cautiously, I walk down the dark hallway, pulling the blanket closer around my chest and trying not to make a sound.

The wail echoes again, this time coming from right in front of me; from the living room. “Hello~?” I whisper, squinting as I take another step forward.

“Is anyone there~?” My voice catches in my throat as another wail rises from right in front of me. Confused, I reach forward, expecting there to be some dark figure that's too shadowy for me to see clearly. Instead, my hand passes through the spot, and I'm left with a confused grimace.

“Hicchan, this isn't funny~!” I yell, retracting my hand, “come out and show yourself!”

As the words leave my mouth, I feel another cold rush of air roll over my shoulders as a pair of glowing yellow eyes appear before me, just inches from my face. Cold breaths and mist exhale from a grotesque mouth under the eyes and I'm frozen in place while another wail, this time filled with malice, fills me with terror.

Screaming in response, I find my feet and turn to run. Leaping back onto the bed in Shicchan's guest room, I pull the blankets over me and lay trembling as the wails continue.

[Helbereth]

Index

Lilly Remembers

Floating in a well of darkness, I feel naked and alone, drifting through a soundless vacuum. Whatever I had been doing, I can't remember. The only way I know I'm still alive is the thrum of my own pulse racing through my ears and the steady breaths that pass in and out despite my inability to feel them, or smell the air.

Totally cut off from every sensation, I feel useless and depressed, but that's not the worst part. Somewhere in this shroud of gloom, I can sense the presence of another; some other lost soul is trapped here with me, doomed to reside in this pervasive nothingness.

Hisao...

Remembering his name brings tears to my eyes, or at least I feel like I'm crying. After keeping so much from him, I know I deserve this fate, but not him; never him. All he tried to do is become a part of my life, and, for a while, that was enough. I led him on, letting him think everything was alright; letting him believe I could stay.

But I couldn't...

Waking, I feel wretched and deceitful; as I should. Tears stream down my cheeks and I'm shaking, but there's nothing I can do; we're already in the air. Akira's soft snoring in the chair beside me reminds me how much of a coward I've been. Despite everything, I couldn't bring myself to tell him I had to leave; she had to do it for me. Now I've left everyone I ever loved behind; my classmates, Hanako, Hisao – even my antagonizing cousin.

And for what?

Maybe the answer is right in front of me, but I'm too busy thinking back to consider the future. These past months have been some of the best in my life, and I've gone and thrown them away like so much trash.

I deserve that senseless vacuum...

[MrDan]

Short shorts is right. I like the concept of pieces this short, just big enough to relay a thought or squeeze in a story, but small and compressed enough to be meaningful throughout every sentence, every word even. It also appeals to my love for bite sized things that take little of my time. I've spent more time thinking about any individual piece here than I did reading it, and I think that's a very good thing. Keep up the good work.

[Mirage_GSM]

Walking with Miki:
After the first line I was expecting a story where Miki is actively trying to kill Takashi. I was a bit disappointed that it turned out to be comparatively mundane.

Misha's Midnight Encounter:
Wut?
...Not quite sure what that was supposed to be. Unlike the other shorts in this thread, I think this one doesn't work very well on its own.

Lilly Remembers:
Great short!

[Helbereth]

Short shorts is right. I like the concept of pieces this short, just big enough to relay a thought or squeeze in a story, but small and compressed enough to be meaningful throughout every sentence, every word even. It also appeals to my love for bite sized things that take little of my time. I've spent more time thinking about any individual piece here than I did reading it, and I think that's a very good thing. Keep up the good work.

It makes for decent exercise. Aside from the original short, most of these only took around 15-20 minutes to write, edit and polish.

Walking with Miki:
After the first line I was expecting a story where Miki is actively trying to kill Takashi. I was a bit disappointed that it turned out to be comparatively mundane.

Admittedly, I was aiming at the sort of internal thought process for the beginning rather than an actual story element. The presented challenge was to write a character as their male (opposite gender, rather) counterpart, which I never actually specify in the story either.

Misha's Midnight Encounter:
Wut?
...Not quite sure what that was supposed to be. Unlike the other shorts in this thread, I think this one doesn't work very well on its own.

It sort of ends before anything really happens, I admit. The really short ones have a time limit on finishing them, so this one just ended abruptly before I could get anywhere.

Lilly Remembers:
Great short!

Thanks, though I'm not sure I'm entirely happy with the tone. Going into writing the idea I had, I knew it would be melancholy, but I'm almost afraid I made it too over-dramatic.

[Mirage_GSM]

Admittedly, I was aiming at the sort of internal thought process for the beginning rather than an actual story element. The presented challenge was to write a character as their male (opposite gender, rather) counterpart, which I never actually specify in the story.

I have to admit I have no idea what you want to tell me with those words...

[Helbereth]

Admittedly, I was aiming at the sort of internal thought process for the beginning rather than an actual story element. The presented challenge was to write a character as their male (opposite gender, rather) counterpart, which I never actually specify in the story.

I have to admit I have no idea what you want to tell me with those words...

It's Miki trying to direct blame for her(his) predicament. Since it's written as an excerpt from what would appear to be a larger story, I had to try and suggest the back-story without spending much time going into detail, and doing so with a bit of misplaced anger seemed appropriate for Miki.

If I had more time, I could have been less abrupt, but the time limit makes doing so rather difficult.

[Helbereth]

I had a thought, and decided to write it into a little short—probably the shortest story I've written in 10 years.
____________________________________________________
Iwanako's Defining Moment

This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't fair. If anything, I should have been the one on that stretcher, pale, silent, and lifeless, not him. Every moment felt like an eternity, but everything was a blur, and I didn't care for a moment how frozen my toes had gotten—small penance for my deed. All I can remember are the sound of sirens and strained voices as I ran alongside, screaming for him not to die, begging the paramedics to save him, help him, bring him back... so I could apologize.

It was my fault; I had left him that note, I had lured him there, and then proceeded to tell him how I felt. For two fleeting seconds, I was free because he had smiled; he was going to reciprocate, I just know it. Then he grimaced and lurched forward, clutched his chest and dropped to his knees. A choking gasp is all the reply he could muster before the life drained from his eyes and he fell sideways, landing limply in the cold snow. I had given him my heart, and it killed him.

[Leaty]

Iwanako's Defining Moment

Heh, see, this is how you write a ficlet. Well done.

It is always really surreal for me to read somebody else's Iwanako, but I really like her voice here. The only thing I would suggest is changing "EMTs" to "paramedics," since the acronym actually seems kind of out of place amidst the elegance of the rest of the paragraph.

In my mind, Iwanako recovers from this, for the most part—she's had a traumatic experience, but she's still the same person she thought she was. But nobody ever really seems to understand what she's going through after that, and the resulting alienation causes her to retreat from the people around her. By the time she actually musters the courage to step back outside of her shell, she realizes everybody she thought she knew has become a stranger to her. Ultimately she decides to leave her hometown to go to college, but she never winds up coming back. The memories never stop hurting.

[Helbereth]

Iwanako's Defining Moment

Heh, see, this is how you write a ficlet.

Have you read the other ones?

The only thing I would suggest is changing "EMTs" to "paramedics,"

Indeed. Would you believe I couldn't remember that word? I stared at it for a long time before giving up and leaving EMTs.

In my mind, Iwanako recovers from this, for the most part—she's had a traumatic experience, but she's still the same person she thought she was. But nobody ever really seems to understand what she's going through after that, and the resulting alienation causes her to retreat from the people around her. By the time she actually musters the courage to step back outside of her shell, she realizes everybody she thought she knew has become a stranger to her. Ultimately she decides to leave her hometown to go to college, but she never winds up coming back. The memories never stop hurting.

This would probably make for an interesting story if anyone had the time or inclination to write it.

[Leaty]

Have you read the other ones?

Not yet. I was just passing through this thread idly, and stopped because anything related to Iwanako immediately captures my rapt attention. I generally avoid ficlets like the plague on instinct since they're all too often used as a smokescreen for some ambiguously teenage first timer to quickly vomit out text and pretend they put more effort into it than the average YouTube comment, but even though we all know you're explicitly One of the Good Ones, I still hadn't looked at this until now.