Author's Note: I've been looking forward to doing something else for Katawa Shoujo that was a bit more long-form and on a chapter-by-chapter format, after my last fic that is. Given that this is a pseudo-"route", I'm hoping to do my best to follow the formula of KS and make something that feels natural for it. At the same time, I'm happy to use a character like Naomi to give me the opportunity to branch out a bit do something a little unique!

This story starts off in Act 1, the day that Hisao finds himself in the middle of Lilly and Shizune's spat. This chapter is an encounter that takes place as Hisao returns to his dorm after class, rather than running into Rin working on her mural as he normally would then.

Thanks for reading, as always, and I appreciate any feedback!

Act 1: Life Expectancy

I wonder if it's easy to blend in.

Right now, standing by myself on the school grounds amidst the crowd of students, I feel uncomfortably aware of the fact that I stick out like a sore thumb.

It feels almost unreasonable to say it after such a short time here, but I'm overwhelmed by the people here. I don't want to think of myself as antisocial, but I can't remember the last time I felt so tense just having to interact with strangers. I could chalk it up to my four months locked away in the hospital, but I know that would be dishonest (although that certainly hasn't helped make me any less lethargic).

What's really overwhelming is the elephant in the room: the one I feel more acutely aware of than anyone else here, it seems. I've been cast into the jungle, where almost everyone has to worry about a disability of their own, and every time I start to feel like I understand how to act about it, something new happens and makes me realize I've been doing it all wrong. One day, I do my best to avoid even looking at Hanako's scars, and I scare her off regardless. The next, though I say nothing to initiate it, Rin asks me what's wrong with me outright. It's hard to say which situation is more awkward, but nevertheless both made me realize exactly how out of my element I am here. Am I supposed to think about my problems- and everyone else's? Am I supposed to pretend things aren't the way they are? It's hard for me to believe that everyone can have a different way to approach this and still manage to coexist without any issues.

And yet, it doesn't seem to be a problem for anyone but me, undoubtedly because I haven't been here long enough to learn the rules. Just watching the students on the grounds is a little disorienting simply because of how normal the scene looks.

Every third student has some kind of glaring physical disability- a cane, or a wheelchair, or something- and they simply make themselves part of a crowd like normal. Everyone seems to be able to blend in, and I suppose that's just a matter of time, but it feels like a farce to me. It's strange to say, and it makes me feel a little guilty, but every time I see someone that looks healthy on the outside, the first thing I think is, 'what's wrong with them?' It seems impossible not to- I wonder if everyone does that with each other here.

I wonder if that's what people do when they look at me.

"What are you looking at?" asks a voice from somewhere behind me.

It's loud- low-pitched and harsh, but distinctly feminine. By all accounts, it should have gotten my attention immediately, which just goes to show how truly lost in thought I was.

I turn barely to the side, wondering absentmindedly where the noise came from without even considering that it was directed at me, and am immediately jolted out of my daydream by a girl's face, positioned barely two inches from my own.

She laughs boldly, taking my own surprise in stride, and takes a few steps back, throwing her arms out to the side as though daring me to ask her to repeat herself.

…What was the question again?

"Nothing," I respond quietly, rubbing the back of my head with some embarrassment. "That's some way to introduce yourself."

"Introduce myself? I have to introduce myself?"

"Well, that's what people usually do when they meet someone else for the first time."

She squints at me harshly for a moment or two in a way that reminds me of Shizune, as though I've broken some unspoken rule of hers. "I'm going to chalk it up to context, because you should already know who I am. I'm in your class."

With one hand, she throws her hair out to the side, making a bizarre theatrical gesture to grab my attention as though it should help me to remember her name better.

She has one of the few heads of blonde hair that I've seen so far at Yamaku, and it immediately reminds me of Lilly. Unlike Lilly, though, whose aesthetic comes off as effortless and natural, this girl's hair looks like an art project, as though she spent a considerable amount of time in front of a mirror trying to get it to look that way. Not that it looks bad- actually, it's kind of cute- but I can't help but wonder if she walks around hoping she'll overhear people talking about it.

Actually, that's the impression she gives me altogether, considering her theatrical mannerisms and tone of voice. I guess first impressions are important to her? But apparently this isn't supposed to be my first time meeting her.

I've been staring at her for an awkwardly long time now, and I realize that I am not anywhere closer to remembering her name, or in fact recognizing her at all, than I was when we started this conversation.

Her disappointed pout tells me (with no subtlety whatsoever) that she is clued into this. "Naomi Inoue," she says pointedly, placing her hands on her hips. "I sit in the back, next to Hanako- who, incidentally, I have seen you staring at in class on multiple occasions over the past few days. So how I could be such a mystery to you, I have no idea."

That does sound right, come to think of it, but I am immediately distracted from that by her comment about Hanako. Have I been staring? Is it that obvious? That seems like a fairly serious transgression. Nobody has mentioned it to me in class, not even Hanako herself- but then, would I really expect her to, if she noticed? That kinda stings, as it's something I've been really conscious of after our encounter in the library.

"Oh," I say sheepishly.

Any illusion of wit I may have been giving off has immediately dissolved, along with my self-confidence. Naomi still seems to have it in spades, and it makes it hard to keep up with her.

I feel like I'm being tested, as though Naomi is deliberately trying to get under my skin to see what I'm willing to challenge her on. I don't know why she expected me to know her name, considering we haven't spoken a single time since I got here. But then, if her goal is simply to bother me, it's possible she has been bluffing entirely. For a single, fleeting moment of pride, I am tempted to call her on it, and then…

"…You are Hisao Nakai, if that's what you were waiting for," Naomi says curtly, reading my expression with uncanny accuracy. "I know everyone in our class. Almost everyone in the school, in fact. And you're an easy one in particular."

"Easy how?"

"Everyone knows you're the new kid because you have been wearing it all over your face for the past week. You look half-asleep and lost pretty much all the time."

I feel myself touching my face almost unconsciously. It's not something I'd thought about before, but it would certainly make it harder to blend in…

"Can I help you with something, Naomi?" I ask after a moment, now feeling a tad defensive.

She nods briefly, glancing to my side as though to confirm we aren't being watched- the kind of thing Kenji seems to do every time I talk to him. Then, much to my confusion, she purses her lips and avoids the question entirely. "Do you write poetry? Like, in a journal?"

She looks completely earnest for the first time.

I'm at a loss. "What?"

"You do, don't you?"

"Why would you ask me that?"

"Because I'm pretty sure I'm right."

"Well, you're not."

"You don't write poetry?"

"No."

"Damn." Apparently that was the wrong answer. With pursed lips, Naomi wanders a few steps away from me as though abandoning me, then stops herself and flips around again. "Not even a little?"

"No. And what does it matter to you?"

"I just thought I had you pegged. But I guess not."

I almost don't want to ask, just out of defiance, but my curiosity gets the better of me. "But why poetry?"

"Well, you're quiet, and you spend a lot of time staring off into space like you're deep in thought. Which is what you were doing before we started having this conversation."

Wait, how long has she been watching me? I don't think I've ever felt so self-conscious talking to someone I just met before. "That doesn't mean I-"

"-But you seem kind of mouthy, and you're not afraid to talk to girls, so I don't think you're just some kind of impassive weirdo or shut-in or something. Aside from that, you've been letting Shizune drag you around by the ear, so I figured you were probably the kind of person who bottles up your complaints and resentments in order to avoid conflict, and so that led me to poetry. It's the kind of hobby for a person that stares out into space a lot, as you do, so it adds up." She taps on her chin, running through her spiel in her head again as though checking her math, then nods and looks me in the eye. "Does that answer your question?"

"Uh. I guess so. It doesn't really make it seem any less strange, though."

"There's nothing strange about paying attention, Hisao. I know you've been doing it, too; you're just more selective about it. Besides, it's my job."

"Your job?"

"You ask too many questions."

"You keep saying things that don't make sense." I hesitate for a moment, but it feels unnecessary to try and hold back in order to be formal. "…And, as a matter of fact, I get the feeling you're doing it because you want me to ask you questions."

Naomi immediately grins from ear to ear at that… so, apparently that was the right answer. "See, like I said. That's called paying attention. People aren't so hard to figure out, if you put the effort in."

"You don't seem to have me figured out at all," I reply with a small shrug.

"You're right about that, and I have to admit, it is intriguing…" she says thoughtfully. "But you haven't been here long, so I will allow myself some time."

I briefly glance over my shoulder. The dormitories are so close, and yet at this rate I may never reach them…

"This is kind of an awkward place to be having this conversation, don't you think?" I ask quietly, hoping Naomi will take a hint.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing," she sighs, gesturing away from me. "You going to the dorms? We'll go together."

"Oh. Sure." Great, great. That was exactly what I meant.

Resigned, I take off along the path toward the dormitories, and Naomi is only too comfortable throwing up her hands and walking alongside me. She seems like the kind of person who wants to be friends with everyone, and I guess she has presumed that of the two of us already, but even still I can't help but feel like there is some special reason I am being targeted right now.

"So, if not poetry, what do you write?" she asks presumptuously, briefly glancing over at me again.

At this point, I simply assume my answer will not satisfy her. "I don't write anything."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope. I read a lot, but I don't write."

"Well," Naomi replies, after a moment of thought, "isn't reading basically half of writing?"

"I don't think so. They don't exactly require the same thing out of you."

"Have you ever tried it?"

"I haven't written anything, outside of schoolwork, in as long as I can remember."

I shrug hopelessly, but she seems completely undeterred. Any line of questioning is enough to make me suspicious, but something about this in particular…

"Naomi, where are you going with this?" I stop short as we make our way to the break in the path between the two sets of dormitories.

Naomi, apparently hoping to quash my suspicions, throws up her hands in guilt, smiling shadily. "Are you going to join the Student Council?"

And, suddenly, it all comes together. I have to admit, I would have expected something more subtle and tactical, but I suppose their time is running short before the festival.

I narrow my eyes accusingly. "Shizune!"

Naomi seems genuinely surprised for a moment. "What about her?"

"She put you up to this!"

Naomi, though clearly amused, puts on her best mock-offended face. "She most certainly did not!"

I'm not buying it. "You can tell her that I have put in enough work for them to at least be allowed more time to think about it."

"I'm not here to nag you for the Student Council, believe it or not. Quite the opposite, in fact." She grins confidently, obviously doing her best to build up the suspense. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't finished dragging your feet with Shizune and Misha. I was only hedging my bets because you don't seem to like making commitments."

"In that case…"

"The newspaper club!" Suddenly invigorated, she reaches one arm behind her and slings her small backpack in front of her in order to dig through it. "If you're looking for a club- and I know you are- it could be a really good fit for you!"

The newspaper club? I've looked at a lot of different activities at Yamaku so far, but that's one that never even occurred to me. At my old school, I was only barely aware that we even had a newspaper, let alone what they were publishing in it. But then again, that was before I started reading as much as I do now…

Even still, I wouldn't even know the first place to start with a club like that.

"I said I don't write, Naomi," I say patiently, taking a step toward the male dorm. "I haven't even looked at the school newspaper since I got here. Sorry."

"Hang on!"

Before I even get the chance to turn my head, Naomi leaps forward and thrusts a loose bundle of papers into my arms, which I am only barely able to keep from falling apart and spreading over the ground. Evidently it's an issue of the newspaper, but it must have come apart in Naomi's rush to pull it from her backpack.

"If you haven't made up your mind yet, don't you think you ought to at least consider all your options? The great thing about the newspaper is that people with all different kinds of skills can work on it! That's what makes us a good team! And that's what makes it fun!" Naomi declares, crossing her arms as I straighten out the papers in my arms.

Briefly glancing at the cover, I have to admit that it looks a lot more professional than I would have expected. If Naomi is any indication, I assume that the members of the club here are a lot more passionate about the work than whoever was responsible for the newspaper at my old school.

"It looks good," I say passively.

She perks up immediately. "Thanks! So you'll think about it?"

"Huh? I didn't say that!"

"Damn, I thought that might work on you. You are a tough one."

She raps her fingers together, still hanging around for me. I can tell that there's no way I'm getting out of this without finding some way to explain myself.

"Why do you want me in particular, though?" I ask. "You could ask anyone from our class about this."

"Alright, do you want the formal answer, or the real one?" Naomi asks with a shrug. "'Cause the formal answer is, there aren't many upperclassmen that are looking to join a club at this point in the year. But seeing as you're a transfer student…"

"So what's the real answer?"

"The real answer is, it's because Shizune wants you."

She narrows her eyes mischievously, waiting for me to ask, but I absolutely don't intend to. After Lilly and Shizune's argument earlier today, I think I have had more than enough of being caught in the middle of Shizune's feuds.

Naomi doesn't wait up for me. "This is the value of paying attention, Hisao. Shizune likes to single people out, and it's important to know who those people are. Because she is good at finding the potential in people like nobody else."

I know when I'm being pandered to, of course, but that said… it's a nice compliment.

"So you're out to snatch me away from Shizune and Misha, then."

"Only because it is in the best interests of our club!" Naomi adds defensively. "And admittedly, we are a little bit understaffed at the moment…"

"You sure chose an odd time to do it, with the festival coming up."

"Is that really what you're worried about? Ugh, fine. Let me make you an offer, then." With no warning, Naomi storms up to me to put us face-to-face and looks me straight in the eye, prodding a single finger onto the newspaper in my arms without breaking eye contact. "Read. You have all day for this."

Surprised, I take a step backwards, trying not to look too embarrassed by her forwardness. "That's more of a demand than an offer."

"Everyone is meeting tomorrow afternoon, after class," she continues, ignoring me. "If you're interested, come with me. You can meet everyone at once and see what the work is like. It's pretty busy, since we have to do an entire issue just centered around the festival."

"Well, what if I'm not interested?"

"Then, by all means, feel free to do chores for Student Council instead. I can only imagine how busy they must be."

I'm quiet for a moment. Naomi raises an eyebrow at me.

"…That sounds fair enough," I respond, finally.

"I know it does." She takes a step back, putting an arm through one of the loops on her backpack. "Tomorrow, then."

"Sure. I'll see you in class."

She looks me over one more time, finally satisfied with the results of our conversation, and then shoos me with one hand. Almost instinctively, I turn to leave. Naomi gives off an air of authority, so much so that it's almost intimidating.

I hear her laugh from behind me as I walk away. I don't turn to respond, but she calls after me anyway.

"Read, Hisao!" Naomi says loudly, taking one step towards the girls' dorm, but still looking after me. "That paper has my name written all over it, so you've got no excuse not to know it now!"

I slip into my own dorm shortly after, happy to have a moment just to breathe. That was certainly a lot to take in at once.

Naomi Inoue. As though there is any chance I could forget her name now, after that.

I straighten out the newspaper in my hands, which I crumpled a little by accident. It's nice to have a new prospect, even if I'm not optimistic that it will work out. But my mind is somewhere else entirely right now, almost to the point of being overwhelmed.

Just who in the world was that? Normal, and yet… anything but.

I can't help but wonder what's wrong with her.