Forced Perspective: A Misaki Kawana Pseudo-Route
Act 1: Life Expectancy
Portrait
I've screwed it up.
My internal monologue chastises me as I sit myself on the cool bleachers. The running track is an ideal place to get away from the hustle and hubbub of the school festival. The chatter and noise fade to a gentle hum in the background. The hum is broken by me pulling the tab of the orange soft drink I grabbed from the nearby vending machine. A small sugar drink is a small consolation for me screwing it all up.
It took me months to ruin my relationships back home after my heart attack. Now, with my so-called second chance it's taken me only a week. When I transferred to Yamaku and first introduced myself to my new classmates it took only seconds to first be introduced what could have been my future friends. The quiet yet intense student council president Shizune and her "voice" Misha. They reached out to me immediately. Sure it was easy to dismiss it as a poorly veiled attempt to recruit me into the student council. I decided to play along, and honestly I was happy to help them out.
They gave it one final push in the student council room, telling me that it would be the last time they would try and recruit me. In the end I could not commit myself but promised to help them when I could. I think Shizune doubted my sincerity, but I certainly proved her wrong last night when I helped with the final push to get the festival prepared. Even though I am hopeless at reading people sometimes, even I could read the surprise and gratitude that I "put my money where my mouth was" while signing her thanks for Misha to translate. The two even invited me to accompany them to the school festival.
And that's where I blew it.
I was really enjoying the company while attending the festival. I even caught on to Shizune's "game" of taking us to all the stalls I put together and helped with throughout the week. That was rather sweet of her. It was at the stand that housed game where you throw balls at bottles that changed things. It took a few tries but I managed to win one of the prizes, a rather odd looking cat plush toy whom I entrusted into Shizune's care as I tried to win another for Misha.
After a couple of further attempts it hit me. It was just for a split second my heart's beat jumped out of synch, causing my body to freeze and the dagger like pain to shoot through me. It left quickly, but not quick enough. My compatriots were in front of me, worried, asking if I was OK. I couldn't face those looks, my mind's eye pasted the looks of concern of my friends in a previous life, warping them into those looks of pity. I knew this road, and the eventual abandonment at the end. I couldn't handle it.
I ran.
I am torn from my brooding. My eyes are assaulted by a sudden flash of white light that disappears as quickly as it came. As I begin rapidly blinking in a vain attempt to banish the orbs of light clouding my vision I spot what appears to be the source of the flash.
A girl. A familiar girl. I recognize the straight shoulder length hair, and intense stare. The piercing, analytical stare, capturing every small detail and committing it to her memory, like the lens of the camera she's holding in her hands. She's in my class, second row, first desk by the door. I don't think I've ever said a single word to her.
While all this goes through my mind I find myself now standing right in front of her. Unconsciously having made my way down to the bleachers to face her. Here eyes boring into my face. I need to say something, break this weird, uncomfortable silence.
"Y... you're in my class. Right?"
Smooth.
"Yes."
Her voice is deeper, and slightly huskier than I would expect. Maybe it's because I've spent a week with Misha's shrill, piercing pitch assaulting my eardrums. That girl needs to learn the term inside voice.
"I'm Hisao Nakai. The new transfer student."
"I know. I am in your class."
Despite her cutting in so quickly, I don't detect any rudeness or annoyance. Rather, stating a simple fact. As if stating that the sky was blue. She lowers her camera down to waist level and fluidly, but somewhat awkwardly bows.
"I am Misaki Kawana. I am pleased to make you acquaintance, Hisao Nakai."
As she returns to an upright posture my eyes finally notice her shirt. There seems to be something causing an odd bulge around her torso area. As if something is wrapped around her body. It must be part of the reason she is attending Yamaku.
"Scoliosis"
Her statement causes me to snap out of my thoughts as I internally panic. Embarrassed that I have been caught staring. Remembering the looks I received that sent me running over to my current predicament I cringe.
"I'm sorry.. I..."
She cuts me off. Continuing.
"It's a medical condition where my spine has a sideways curve. In my case it is an "S" pattern. I wear a brace that keeps my growing body from increasing the misalignment. That is what you have probably noticed. This type of brace is known as a 'Boston Brace' and is probably the most commonly used."
Her completely straightforward explanation of her condition takes me completely off guard. Having witnessed the tiptoeing around why people are at this school, Kawana's explanation, completely devoid of malice or offence is rather refreshing.
"Still I'm sorry. I was staring."
Her eyes narrow, and for the first time she actually seems annoyed.
"Don't apologize. Not for that. You noticed something unusual, so you stared. You wanted to understand it better. There is no shame in that."
Her tone is curt, as if explaining to a child why you shouldn't put your hand on the stove. Still feeling a little embarrassed, and slightly emboldened, I take in a deep breath and emotionally brace myself.
"Arrhythmia. It occurs when the electrical impulses that coordinate your heartbeats don't work properly, causing your heart to beat too fast, too slow or irregularly. I had my first heart attack a few month ago. I have to take a torrent of pills every day or I greatly increase the chance of having another one."
This is the first time I have told anybody about my condition myself. I deliver it in much the same way. As if reading from a text book, it is easier than expected, and kind of liberating. Still I gaze at her trying to judge her reaction. Slowly a smile creeps up on her lips.
"Thank you, Nakai. For telling me. I find it rather interesting."
Suddenly I remember why I descended the bleachers to talk to Kawana in the first place.
"So. Why were you taking a picture of me? Are you from the school newspaper?"
She shakes her head holding up her camera.
"No. I'm actually in the photography club. And you looked very depressed. I wanted to photograph that moment. See?"
She turn the camera around, the small screen showing the picture. I have to admit. It's a really good photo. She definitely played with the settings, the picture being in black and white and the contrast is extremely sharp. The shadows are extremely well defined. However, I can't help but find myself hating the subject of the photo. He's staring at the top of the can of juice in his hand, obviously miserable, ignorant of the rather beautiful night sky behind him.
Still, I can't help but be impressed at the photo.
"You really do take a good photo, Kawana. Does everyone in the photography club take photos like these?"
Kawana begins a rather impassioned rant about how the photography club was mainly made up of nature photographers and boring girls only interested in taking better selfies.
I spent the rest of the evening at those bleachers, talking to a girl who I had seen in class all week but had only really met just now. Mostly it was small talk but it turned into some very weird tangents. I found Kawana's complete candidness to be a refreshing change of atmosphere.
The fireworks near the end certainly made the conversation more difficult as we had to raise our voices to speak over the explosions. It was not long after that we parted company.
I certainly left those bleachers feeling better about myself than I came in. I guess I have Kawana to thank for that.
