I have no idea why I wrote this. I just suddenly got the urge to write a quick different version of Katawa Shoujo, and ended up with this. Basically, it's a 'route' in which Hisao changed a lot after his heart attack, and with nothing better to do started analyzing the people around him. Basically, he has a slightly darker personality, and he has a great interest in analyzing people, trying to 'understand' them. Or something like that. I'm not actually sure. Not even sure if this is a one-shot or not. We'll see later if I continue working on this every time my insomnia kicks in.
Yamaku High.
"To help youngsters with special needs."
A high school for handicapped students.
A high school that I, Nakai Hisao, will be a student of from today on.
I stare up at the gates of the school, a chill running down my spine. Walking through here means leaving everything else behind, to finally become a 'youngster with special needs'. Well, I guess I've always been one, it just hasn't been realized until now; chronic dysrhythmia isn't something that develops overnight. But this gate, when I walk through it I will truly have to face reality.
…
"Let's do this!" I shout in my mind with faked enthusiasm as I walk through the gate that in reality symbolizes nothing but the gate that it is. Guess I shouldn't put too much focus on unnecessary details.
My parents tell me that they'll bring the few things I brought to the dormitory so that I can meet up with the teacher that's supposed to be in the hall of the school for youngsters with special needs. A sigh is heaved by none other than moi, and I guide myself towards what I assume to be the main entrance of Yamaku High.
It's a beautiful school, that's for sure. Hell, it's a beautiful location overall; wherever you look you can see cherry trees, and although the season has passed, some of them still appear to bloom. I've never had much of an interest in such things, but looking at it as something in the yard of a school for broken people makes it appear incredibly beautiful.
The school building itself seems to be of an older style, which doesn't suit the lifestyle I've been living; growing up in the city doesn't give you many chances to be in the type of building that I'll be in a majority of days from now on. I guess it can't be too bad of an experience. The school seems to be linked to a smaller building that I can only assume houses the nurses that seem to make Yamaku so special.
What stands out from the rest of the area are the dormitory buildings; seemingly built newly (at least when compared to the style of the school), when looking at them right after observing the school building almost makes them look like modern office buildings.
It doesn't take long for the crippled youngster that happens to be me to make his way to the entrance of the school, and he does what people usually do when confronted with the entrance to a building; open it and enter.
The man I encounter in the hall seems to be somewhere between 30 and 40 years of age, and doesn't appear to have shaved in 'a while'. His clothes were put on in haste, that's for sure, and he probably didn't get much sleep last night either. I guess in that sense he and I are similar, although our lack of sleep was probably caused by different sources.
"Hm?" the man mutters as he notices my presence. His gaze moves onto me and he gives a quick analyzing stare. I guess it's fair, since I did the same to him. "You must be..." The man finally starts talking, and now seems to try to remember the name of the student in front of him; namely, me. "Ni... Na... Niki?"
"Nakai. Nakai Hisao," I correct him. "I assume that you are my homeroom teacher."
"Ah, Nakai. And your assumption is correct; I am your homeroom and science teacher, Mutou." The teacher named Mutou nods his head slightly, as if to put his words into an existence other than just sound. "Welcome to Yamaku."
I bow at the man who (most likely truthfully) claims to be one of my teachers. Raising my head back up, I let my eyes move around the lobby and take notice of the interior of the school I will be attending from now on. The inside does appear more modern than the outside of the school, so I guess that the exterior is either just for show or there have been renovations done on the inside during later years. Not that it really matters.
"The head nurse wanted to see you... But I guess it'll be easier if you take that in the afternoon. Let's head off to your classroom. The class is probably waiting for homeroom to start. And for the new student, of course."
Oh, I'm anticipated? 'The boy who entered after the start of his third year.' I guess that's to be expected. Or maybe it's not known that I am male? That would explain the anticipation. Most commonly guys who transfer in aren't given that much attention, but when it comes to girls... Well, you should know..
"Do you want to introduce yourself to the class?" Mutou's question seems strange, but a quick thought makes me realize that it actually isn't. Shy people are common, and in a school such as this one there probably won't be a lesser amount of shy students.
"Sure. No one knows me better than I do, right?" Lie. Physically, there are quite a number of people that know more about me than I do. And mentally, I'm pretty sure this teacher probably can say more about me from his first impression than I can. But even so, I don't really have much of a problem with standing out. I used to, but it seems that that kind of thing disappears once you've constantly been surrounded by doctors and nurses for four months. And the fact that I was constantly observing them much in the same fashion they were me, although my gaze didn't give the same info as their x-rays, probably didn't give me more trouble with standing out.
"Okay, then we should be off," Mutou says as he starts heading toward where the classroom I'll be spending the coming year in should be. For someone with such a sloppy appearance, he does have a walking style that seems to show off authority. It's interesting too watch such a combination, but I don't have time to analyze the way this man walks. I follow him through the corridors and up the stairs leading to the classroom.
3-3. That's what it says on the door that is opened by Mutou when he's in reach to so. Inside this room is the class that I'll be spending the coming year in.
"Sorry for being late again," my teacher says as he enters the room. I take a deep breath, more so as to follow through the 'everyday-man-ritual' than to actually calm myself before stepping in after him.
I quickly let my gaze across the people in the classroom; most don't seem to have any different circumstances than 'regular' people at first glance, but taking a closer look you'll realize that that girl over there lacks a thumb on one hand, and that girl has arm that ends where the hand would otherwise start. That boy has a cane where he can easily grab it if he were to stand up, and that girl seems to hiding her face with her hand, but you can still see that her skin is darkened both on the small part I can see of the right side of her face and on her hand. That girl in front row seems to be dozing off, using her arms as a pillow, and the girl behind her seems to only take interest in the finger motions of the girl in her neighboring seat. Deaf, perhaps?
Mutou finishes a speech I didn't bother to take greater notice of and lazily claps his hands. Whether he wished to or not, he was successful in starting an applause directed at me. I continue gazing around the classroom, analyzing the students as they enter the focus of my vision, and the applause I did in no way deserve quickly come to an end. Since the earlier man of focus has finished his speech, I presume that now is the time for me to introduce myself.
"Nakai Hisao. That's my name, if you didn't understand." The words that accidentally came out in the manner of a joke sets off a giggle or two in the classroom, and if I knew who were the ones that did giggle at such a thing I would immediately determine that they had a terrible sense of humor. "I don't really have much in the ways of hobbies... Well, I guess I do my fair share of reading, but besides that I'm quite a boring person. Hopefully I'll get along here fine."
I bow, finishing my messy introduction. As I raise my head, I notice that a few girls seem to be whispering to each other, taking quick glances at me every few seconds. Maybe they're trying to decide where how high I rank on the looks-scale. All I can hope for is that it's not a low ranking.
Mutou decides to follow up on his speech at this point, and I decide to let him while continuing to analyze my classmates. The light reflecting on those glasses shows that there's only glass on one side, meaning that her vision is poor only in one eye. The covering of that guy's ear means that he has some kind of trouble with his ear and/or hearing. Too many different diagnoses to come up with a single one from so little information. The blue-haired girl with glasses is still looking at her pink-haired neighbor's hands, so I guess that my assumption of deafness was correct. That girl has no legs from what appears to be just above the knees.
The girl whose left hand is missing seems to care as much about what Mutou is saying as I do. Maybe even less. Our eyes lock onto each others and a grin soon appears on her face. I answer with what I believe to be a devilish smile, before letting my gaze onto the snoozing girl next to her. I guess I focused on her upper body in my first analyze, as I seem to have missed her knee brace. I don't know much about knee braces ('not much' equaling to exactly nothing besides the fact that they exist), but I am quite sure that she does not wear one without a reason.
"We're going to be doing some group exercises today, so you'll have a chance to talk with everyone. Is that okay?" Mutou asks me after finishing his speech.
"I see no reason for it not to be," I answer nonchalantly. It's not that I wish to sound non-caring, but more that I have no larger interest in the question to begin with. It's not like my opinion would make a larger difference in the matter.
"Great, you can work with Hakamichi, the class representative." He nods as if approving his own statement. "She can answer any questions you might have. No one should be better at that than her, right?"
"That would be why she's the class representative, would it not?" I answer absentmindedly. Not that I would know of anyone's particular knowledge in a class I have never before been in.
Mutou hands out the assignments we're supposed to be working with, and I, having nothing else to do, head for the one empty desk in the classroom. It's easy to pass through the openings between the simple desks, as there's quite a wide space between each desk, presumably so that wheelchairs and such will have more ease passing through.
I slump into my chair and finally start to experience the fatigue of a mostly sleepless night. After a second or two I let my head fall onto my arms on the desk in a similar fashion the girl with the knee brace in the front row. However, it doesn't take long before I start to feel something stabbing into my side.
"Hicchan~, you better wake up! Me and Shicchan both want to work with you," a shrill voice echoes in my ears. My head is slowly raised and I turn towards the source of the voice; the pink-haired girl who was using sign language earlier.
"And you might be?" I ask as I blink my eyes into a state in which I'm not at risk of falling asleep. Thinking about it, it's probably bad to fall asleep on my first day in a new school. Would be lovely to hear of the consequences, but it seems that I am not to experience it firsthand.
"I'm Misha, and this is Shicchan!" she says in a voice closer to a shout than anything. The blue-haired girl looking over Misha's shoulder seems to be the one called 'Shicchan'.
"I assume that Shicchan is some kind of nickname. Either that or she had a troubled childhood," I say, my eyes directed at 'Shicchan''s. Sure, it's fine to talk to someone using a nickname they themselves use, but I wouldn't want to talk to someone using a nickname given to them by someone else I just met.
"Wahaha~ Yeah, her name's Hakamichi Shizune, but you can just call her Shicchan~" Misha says, but before I'm able to make some kind of comment on the fact that she's probably the only one who calls Hakamichi Shicchan, Misha seems to be hit in the head by a rolled up paper. Hakamichi stands behind her and our eyes meet again.
"Well then, nice to meet you, Hakamichi. I'm Nakai Hisao." Despite the fact that she probably already knows my name, as it appears that Misha signs everything to her, I feel like introducing myself for real, one-on-one. Having 'heard' what I said through the pink-haired girl's translation, Hakamichi signs something herself.
"Shicchan says: 'Nice to meet you, Nakai. I'm Hakamichi Shizune. And there's no need to be so formal; please, call me Shizune.'" Even through Misha's bubbly and lively voice I can feel the seemingly friendly tone of Shizune's statement. Of course, the smile that she is carrying might also be part of that.
"Well then, call me Hisao," I say as I bow for the third time today. Since I've been in a hospital bed a majority of the time for the last four months, it feels strange to suddenly bow so much, but I guess that's what Japanese culture's like. Maybe I've been westernized from reading too much western fiction.
After our greeting the two girls seem to want to start on the assignment, so we, like most our classmates already have, put our desks together. In the corner of my eye I notice that the scarred girl hasn't moved her desk and is sitting alone, but I don't comment on it. Instead, I focus on the assignment of the period, and with the help of the two girls we start to make our way toward finishing it.
