Re: Learning To Fly - A Saki pseudo-route (New NSFW Art 2/22)

[Eurobeatjester]

Upcoming chapter

Every route except Hanako has an off site location for a serious date or drama This might give something away, but at the pace I write, I didn't want to hold this back

[Mirage_GSM]

Why "except Hanako"?

[Alpacalypse]

That picture... I was going to make a coherent response, but I'm afraid that it got lost in amongst the fangirling and massive, stupid grin, so I'll leave it at "SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"

Why "except Hanako"?

Seconded - wasn't there that one little scene involving a jazz bar or something?

[Blackmambauk]

Or the town visit after Lilly left for Scotland? I would also say the Jazz scene would count as an off site scene as that scene was where Hanako first showed signs of not approving of Hisao's attitude towards her.

[Eurobeatjester]

Shit, I completely forgot about the jazz club.

I will hang my head in shame now.

[Blackmambauk]

All is forgiven.

Well look at that, post 500 Ding Ding Ding Congratulations .

[Eurobeatjester]

Computer's back with a new motherboard! Might take a week or two to finish the chapter, but at least I can work on it again! It will be a long one, and it will be the end of Act 2.

[Blackmambauk]

Ah looking forward to seeing how act two comes to an end and where things will be for chapter three.

I'm sensing the first steps of something new will be taken that's for sure. all celebrated with wetness and slides. How very very moist .

[Eurobeatjester]

Change of plans - I know I said this was a long update and it is so far (almost as long as the second part of Electric Daisies) and it's a little over halfway done. I'll be splitting it into two parts like I did with the end of Act 1. Putting the finishing touches on the first part now.

Also there were some continuity errors in the earlier act, which I'm going back to clean up

[Blackmambauk]

Sweet, the more the merrier. Looking forward to seeing what happens next.

[derick1908]

splitting it into two parts like I did with the end of Act 1.

Sweet, even more to read than I initially expected.

[Eurobeatjester]

New artwork!

[Peorth]

Damn, son! Nice!

[Eurobeatjester]

Alright! So I changed my mind AGAIN and lengthened the first part of the last part (heh) to be a full chapter, with its own title. The last chapter of the act will be coming up fairly quickly compared to my normal update schedule. It seems the new apartment has me bustling with creativity

The name of this chapter is a reference to a famous line said by David Farragut. I think it fits nicely, if you know the reference and the whole quote

Here we go! Thanks again for putting up with my horrific update schedule, or total lack thereof

Act 2: Countdown

Scene 8: Damn The Torpedoes

The water seems a bit colder than usual this morning.

My breath hitches in my throat as I step off the stairs and plunge myself in up to my neck, but I shake it off and use the shock to kickstart my routine. I start to make long, powerful strokes towards the opposite side of the pool.

Through this whole week, the schedule has been the same. I wake up, I change, I come down to the pool. I swim for half an hour or so, shower, and then I go to class. I have to admit that Nurse was right. Having a routine has helped me tremendously over the last week, and my body is finally adjusting to some sense of normalcy. Knowing what time I'm going to wake up and what I'm going to be doing has done wonders for my insomnia; I haven't had to take another dose of sleeping medication since the initial one Nurse gave me.

What hasn't been great for my sleeplessness are the thoughts constantly running through my head about this last week, or more specifically, the day that started it.

I reach the edge, slap the concrete, and turn around, pushing off back towards the way I came.

That whole day in itself was a blur, looking back on it. And not just because of what happened with Saki, but later that night when I was thinking about it.

In the shower that night, my mind was wandering all over the place, branching out from our earlier conversation into a countless number of meanings and possibilities. No matter where my thoughts strayed off to, they all kept coming back to the same two things.

It was obviously a very emotionally charged moment, for the both of us, but...why did it feel like there was more to it than that?

And more importantly, why was it that the further I was removed from that moment, did it feel like I had missed something incredibly vital?

All the pieces were bouncing in my head, desperately trying to fit themselves together into a coherent answer. I just knew I had all the information I needed; I was frustrated that it wasn't coming together into a language I could understand. I've always been able to brute-force mental solutions, but try as I might, I couldn't quite grasp it, my mind elusively circling it like the water going down the drain.

One lap down. Going for two.

Nurse, Mutou, Saki, Emi...everyone I've met since I got here to Yamaku has been trying in their own way to tell me something that was pounding against me as relentlessly as the water beating down on my skin. Everyone has been trying to tell me not to treat the disabilities of others around me as an issue, or that it's only an issue if I choose to let it be one. But I had no idea what that meant, much less how to act on it.

When my thoughts replayed back to that first week, something popped into my head and it made it all click.

It was the first time I met Rin.

Rin never shied away from my condition; in fact, she asked me about it outright. At the time, I was so shocked that someone who barely knew me would ask me about that, or that she saw no problem with doing so. I figured out pretty quickly that “conventional” isn't a word that really applies to Rin, and that may be why it took so long for that part to fall into place.

I was told that I shouldn't make a big deal about my disability, or the conditions of others. But I obviously can't go up to someone like Hanako and ask her why she's scarred, or someone like Emi and ask her why she has artificial legs.

But then again there are plenty of other things I wouldn't bring up with people I just met, so why should things like that be any different?

Like anything else, it's just one more thing that fits onto the ladders of friendship that all of us are climbing.

Everyone starts out with everybody else the same way. It begins with something simple, like a name. You place your foot on the bottom rung. A birthday, a phone number, the title of a favorite book or song; all helping you climb a little bit higher.

The further you climb, the more you learn about someone. Their hopes and their dreams. Their fears and their weaknesses. They also open up to you in ways that they never would if you were still at the bottom. If you ask a friend you just met why he's tired, he may tell you he has a lot of stuff going on at home, and leave it at that. Someone you've known longer may tell you that their parents are fighting, or ask you for your opinion on it.

And before you know it, it's going both ways.

I complete a second lap, and push off from the wall, letting the momentum carry my body out into the pool, realizing that I'm too preoccupied to keep this up at the moment.

At a certain point, someone's condition becomes just like anything else in their life when it comes to other people – you choose to share it or not, or respond to questions about it or not, no different from anything else. Saki never asked me about my heart, saying she figured I would tell her on my own when I was ready.

No, not so much when I was ready, but when our friendship progressed to the point where I could tell her.

I think she knew that, even if I didn't.

Earlier that day, I opened up to her in a way I hadn't opened up to anyone, just from the simple act of discussing my condition and its ramifications openly. Specialists and nurses and doctors don't count; I'm merely numbers on a chart to most of them, and all they are to me are white coats with the colors of their scrubs underneath the only thing distinguishing themselves from each other.

And yet...we still weren't on equal footing. When she said that she was too scared to come out and tell me about her ataxia, or the results of it...

I duck my head under the water, letting the coolness leech the heat from my face. I float there for a few seconds with my eyes closed, the feeling of weightlessness permeating through me.

Something changed that day between us...which is why it's so confusing that the mood between us is like it didn't happen at all.

After a few minutes on the floor, we stood up. I helped Saki into her chair, and after a few more, we left as simply as we came in. It was like after that huge emotional outpouring that left both of us exhausted, there was a tension in the air neither one of us felt entirely comfortable with and that I couldn't seem to let go of, even after both of us left the room.

Hence my mindset and subsequent epiphany in the shower.

I haven't seen Saki much this last week. Most of the times we've gotten together the last few weeks have been a result of plans made at the pool or just randomly bumping into each other. With Saki's leg out of commission the former hasn't happened, and chance hasn't been on my side with the latter. I haven't seen her at lunch, and the three times I ran into her in the hallways, her body language showed that something serious was on her mind, prohibiting anything more but some small talk. I've only seen Chisato once, and I haven't seen Noriko at all.

My body reminds me with a sudden urgency that it needs air. My feet find the bottom of the pool and I stand, breaking the surface and taking in a lungful. Shaking the water from my hair and ears, I hear a sound coming from the end of the room.

Cli-chack. Cli-chack. Cli-chack.

I turn, and I can tell the sound is coming from the locker room and getting closer, but nothing looks different at the entrance.

Cli-chack. Cli-chack. Cli-chack.

I know I've heard that sound before. Are those...crutches?

Three seconds later, my eyes go wide as Saki emerges from the small hallway clad in her black swimsuit. True to my guess, she's making her way with the help of a pair of crutches under each arm. Her towel is wrapped around her neck, hair pulled back into the tight ponytail I'm used to seeing on her in the mornings. A glance down her body shows that her knee is no longer wrapped in the elastic bandage she's been sporting the last week, and her ankle is bare as well...even if she's holding it behind herself off the ground.

“Saki!” I say, greeting her with the relief I'm feeling at seeing her at the pool for the first time in a week. I'm rewarded with a smile that seems to be mirroring that same emotion.

“Hey, Hisao. Glad to see you here.”

“Of course,” I respond, trying without success to not let my enthusiasm show. “Been here every day this week. Doctor's orders.”

“That's good,” Saki says, her features softening a bit. “I'm glad you kept up with it. I was worried you might have dropped it.”

“Nah,” I say, laying on my back to float. “I'm actually really enjoying this part of the morning, you know?”

Saki starts to make her way towards the pool, her movements much more slow and mechanical than they were with the cane. With difficulty, she ever-so-slowly lowers herself to a seated position at the edge, placing her crutches to the side. I can see the effort took more out her than she's willing to let on, so I swim over towards her.

“No swim cap today?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I'm not going to be doing any laps for a while,” she says, looking down at her leg. My eyes follow hers down to her right ankle, and I'm shocked at what I see. Even though it's been a week, her ankle and the outside of her foot is covered by an ugly bruise, the pale skin stained with angry mottled reds and purples. Saki must see the look of concern on my face.

“Don't worry,” she says reassuringly. “It looks worse than it is. It's going to look like that for a few weeks, but at least it's healing. I guess I just won't be able to wear sandals for a while.”

“Are you able to get around on it now?”

(continued)

[Eurobeatjester]

She nods. “Only for short stretches. I still wear a brace, and I'll probably use the wheelchair off and on for another few days, but I've been trying to get used to the crutches. I haven't had to use any for a few years.”

I've been fortunate enough that I've never had to use crutches, so I can't relate. They're much heavier and more cumbersome than her cane, and they look like they would be a challenge, on top of the pain that must still be present from her injury. I can see that they're taking a toll on her; she has her usual fire behind her eyes, but her movements without them are noticeably lethargic.

“Want some help?” I offer, moving closer and holding out a hand to her. She could probably move over to where the chair lift is and use that to get into the water, but this seems like it would be easier.

Saki ponders for a split second before she smiles in appreciation, and reaches to take my hand. She scoots her hips forward and hops off the edge, her other hand moving to my shoulder for support. The motion presses her body against mine, and I instinctively wrap my other arm around her waist to keep us both from toppling over. I'm not entirely successful, but the water around us lets me lean back with her.

I brace my leg and we stop. We're face to face, pressed together, with one set of hands clasped, our free arms around each other. As our eyes meet, I get a flashback of holding her on the floor of the tea room. In an instant, I can see her thoughts must be similar. I can see her cheeks redden. I can feel my own doing the same.

It only lasts for two heartbeats before Saki breaks eye contact, along with the spell it induced. She moves away from me, the cold water a stark contrast to her warm body.

“Thank you,” she says, with a hint of shakiness that my brain rationalizes is the shock of entering the pool. It is rather cold this morning.

“No problem,” I answer, moving a pace back as well.

And there it is. This tension again. It could just be my imagination, but in its defense, my imagination can make some pretty damned convincing arguments when it wants to.

I'm overreacting. Stop.

“Hisao...I wanted to say I'm sorry,” Saki starts abruptly, catching me off guard.

“Huh? What for?” I ask, genuinely confused.

“I'm sorry for being so out of it this week,” she says, cutting right to the heart of the matter. “It hasn't been a good week...there was a test I had to study for, the pain kicked in after I switched to a different medicine, I haven't been able to swim, and it's just been hell.”

“It's alright,” I say, brushing it off. “It's been a rough week for me too.” I don't elaborate on the reasons for it, however.

“How did your class project go?”

“We scored the top grades in the class,” I say, punctuating the first word with a sarcastic emphasis.

Saki laughs. “How much of the work did you end up doing?”

“Most of it,” I grumble. “I learned the hard way that Shizune's much more talented at motivating others than doing the actual work, and once Maeda picked up on that, he didn't care too much about it anymore.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Saki laughs again. I see her closing her eyes to float on her back, not caring that her hair is getting wet. “Oh my God, have I missed this...”

“Oh yeah?”

“You have no idea. After being stuck in a wheelchair for the last week, it just feels so good to...” she says, her voice stopping abruptly. Her face quickly appears as if she's just let something slip that she shouldn't, grimacing so lightly that you'd miss it if you weren't looking for it.

“Good to what?” I prompt gently, letting her know I'm interested in the answer, but in a tone that lets her know I'm willing to let it go if she wants to.

“It feels good to be able to move the way I want to again,” she finishes, blushing slightly. I don't know if it's from her answer or her hesitation. “It's bad enough with the cane sometimes, but being in that chair...”

With a heavy realization, I know that Saki isn't just talking about her difficulties this last week. Like so many other things she says, the meaning goes a lot deeper than just what's shown on the surface.

I don't say anything though, giving her time to collect her thoughts.

“That's one of the reasons I love swimming so much,” she continues, her voice lilting. “I mean...I can't run or dance anymore because of the balance issues...but when you're in the water, none of that really matters, you know?” She turns in a tight circle, the water rippling around her, to prove her point. “When you're underwater, diving towards the bottom, swimming just above it...it's like you can fly.”

I don't have any idea how to respond to this. Just that admission is so much more than she's ever told me before, and with my newly discovered perspective from this last week...I know this is something she would never have told me before that moment a week ago.

And to think, she loves to swim so she doesn't suffer any of the problems that come with her ataxia, so she can feel free and uninhibited for just a few minutes every morning...

Something so simple just blows me away.

I blush, but I'm hoping she won't be able to see it from this angle.

“It's good to see you in the water again,” I blunder out, trying to say something but still keep the conversation somewhat topical. “How long do you think it will be before you're able to do laps like usual?”

“Another week or two, maybe.” Saki tests the range of motion in her leg and winces. “I still can't kick because of my ankle, so that will take longer. But at least I can swim again,” she says, a satisfied weariness in her voice. Her focus turns to me and she perks up. “What about you? Gotten any faster in the last week?”

“A bit,” I reply, puffing up. “Not too much, but I can do more laps now than I could before.” Sadly, I don't think my speed is going to improve much as long as I wear a shirt in the water.

“Good! Endurance is important too. Probably even better for you than speed, really,” Saki affirms.

“Don't let Emi hear you say that.”

“What, the 'fastest thing on no legs'? She's fast in sprints, but I think Miura has her on endurance.”

The name sounds familiar, but a face doesn't come to mind. “Miura?”

“Miki. I think she's in your class. Tall girl, really tan, long hair, no left hand?”

It still sounds insensitive, but the last part of that description is unquestionably the quickest way to narrow down the field. Even so, I wince. Saki catches it.

“Oh relax. She jokes about how she's happy she only pays half price for a manicure. Just last week she said she was going to go as Rockman for Halloween.”

The mental image of that pops into my head before I can stop it, and it makes me laugh. I feel guilty for laughing, but I do laugh.

“So now that you're done with the project, what's next?”

“I think Mutou's giving us a breather for a day or two. He's been autopilot for the last two days. I don't know if its because it's a reward for doing well, or a break because we did bad.”

“I guess it depends on how the other groups did. Probably both, knowing him.”

“What about you?” I ask. “How's band?”

Saki's face falls a bit. “Band is okay...Chisato's been wheeling me over there after school since we're both going there anyway...but Mrs. Sakamoto just looks so guilty when she sees me in the wheelchair.” She sighs. “That's another reason I can't wait to get out of it.”

“She doesn't blame herself for what happened, does she?” I say, shocked. “I mean, it's not her fault...”

“I know that, and I've told her that...but she left us to go off with her husband after we said it was okay, and if she was able to take us back to the school like we had planned...” Saki trails off, shaking her head. She doesn't need to continue. I know all about jumping to conclusions, fair or not.

A disconcerting thought pops into my head. “She's not going to get into any trouble, will she?”

“Oh, no...nothing like that. It happened on the weekend, outside of the school, so she wasn't technically being a teacher, so officially, things will be fine...I hope. I think Nurse has something to do with that. Probably said something about how it could have happened any time, whether she was there with us or not,” she says, a bit of anger bleeding into her voice.

I want to change the subject.

“What about the art club?”

Saki takes a few moments before answering, sadness washing over her. When she speaks, it's with a smaller, more resigned tone.

“Actually...I'm probably going to be giving it up.”

(continued)