Requited Love
"-elevator!"
"...you were dreaming about elevators? I didn't know it was possible for you to even sleep," Shintaro muttered, checking the forums for updates on another screen, having left one empty to give her some semblance of peace. "You're always burning up the screen in the early hours of the morning."
Ene's face flushed red then paled then her eyes went wide, flipping through those emotions in a short span of frames.
"You mean I slept through the morning and you waking up and I missed everything?!" she screeched, waving her arms wildly over the list of messages Shintaro was perusing. "That's not supposed to happen!"
"Guh!" She dramatically swooned back to the bottom of the screen, and her image appeared over his wall, covering the screen in evident distress. "I hate sleep!"
"...hey." Shintaro sipped at his soda, grimacing at how it had gone flat overnight. "I sleep every night, you know."
"But Master is lazy and always sleeps until noon. Technically Master doesn't sleep at night, just morning."
The ignoring started. Oooo, she'd stepped on a nerve there. She rolled around, lounging on the large screen, bouncing one leg. "You know, they're gonna come looking for you. They did say they'd have something for Master to do. They're gonna get annoyed if you don't go meet them."
He pushed his chair away from the desk, getting up and dragging his feet.
"Wow, are you really going to get ready? Master, I'm so prou-"
Shintaro ducked into the bathroom, grabbing a pair of clothes on his way. He wasn't even going to listen to her while he dressed. What a cop-out.
"Your sister knows where you live!" she called to him, cranking up the volume so he'd hear her. "I'll send them your address! They'll come and drag you kicking and screaming to somewhere I won't give you the map of!"
Shintaro poked his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, to retort, "I have a song to finish writing!" And gone again.
"OOOOOO! Your songs never get a good rep!" she hollered back, a smirk clear across her features. "The only reason they get views at all is because you always advertise them on your precious forums!"
No response. As expected.
"Maybe I should install parental controls on your computer! Get you to cut that porn habit of yours cold turkey, eh?"
"I swear, I'll delete you once and for all one d-"
"SHINTARO! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO TURN DOWN THE VOLUME ON YOUR COMPUTER?"
Shintaro sprinted (more like stumbled) back to his computer, and yanked out the speaker cords as Ene rolled around the screen holding her stomach, laughing. Out of all of their conversations-conveniently-turned-into-threats-and-subsequent-backlashes, Shintaro's mother held the title of champion for most arguments won.
Seto st himself down at a bench stylized to be an art statement, and pulled out his phone, squinting at the screen to turn up the brightness to see it in the well-lit building. When he managed to comprehend the screen, instead of his apps, there appeared to be a YouTube video pulled up.
He could see the wifi signal in the corner of the screen, but he didn't remember watching anything recently. Maybe Mary had been watching cat videos again. Or Ene wanted him to watch something she'd found, she had jumped on his phone earlier. With that girl, it could have been anything from a cliché vine to a a silly cat in a box. With that in mind, he put in his earbuds, and pressed the triangle in the center. It pulsed, several dots danced in a circle, and a click sounded in his ears.
The scene started on a bus, parked at a bus stop. On schedule, evidently. The last few people filed onto the bus, cramming it to full. A gaggle of girls, their galoshes splashing in the puddles on the pavement, stopped as they arrived at the bus. Closing their umbrellas, they shrieked as the rain pelted them, and scrambled aboard.
Out the windows, it appeared to be a dreary day. A nice neighborhood, all swept clean with brilliant paint jobs, nice buildings, well-taken-care-of hedges and well-placed trees. It was no surprise that all the bus's chivalrous passengers avoided the handicapped seating, the cushioned bench sectioned off by neon yellow markings all over it.
The driver gave a huff as he pulled a lever, the doors closing seconds later. A shout cut through the rain, hitting the camera's microphone. "Stop, wait! Open the doors, we need to get on!"
When the doors opened again, a student stopped, grabbing the rail and stomping a foot on the first step. Her long bangs sticking to her face, she waited to board, panting, leveling a glare at the driver.
"Get on," the driver snapped. "You're holding up the bus, I have other stops to get to." Still, she didn't move, and a few passengers peered around their seats and other obstacles to quirk an annoyed eyebrow at the commotion.
After a long, tense moment, Seto discovered why she made the bus wait. A taller boy slowed from a light speedwalk as he came into the screen, holding an umbrella and looking miserable. "Takane, you didn't have to," he said, his voice soft and hard to pick out from the rain.
She shot him a scowl as if offended, and mumbled something in a huff. The boy, another student, quickly boarded the bus, and Seto sucked in a breath as he sat at the handicapped seat, shoving the umbrella closed. Unknown to the student, the ire of the entire bus turned to focus on him.
The girl, Takane, finally dashed onto the bus, and plopped herself down next to the boy. Seto's eyes widened. This was just asking for trouble.
For a few minutes, Seto watched the tension simmer. The bus started moving, and the two students talked quietly, the microphone only catching snippets of comprehensible dialogue. The boy's name was Haruka, he figured out that much, and it seemed like they were chatting about complaints about classes and little funny points of the day.
It turned into a time bomb for someone to explode. And someone did.
"Hey, kids! Those are for the elderly!"
When one person broke the dam, others invited themselves through, chiming in.
"Yeah, some people actually need those seats!"
"What would your parents think?"
"Just wait until you have arthritis and a couple of spoiled teens are taking those seats!"
Haruka's teeth clenched, and his eyes teared up a bit, his hands clenched tight on the dripping umbrella. He took a breath, and mustered up the courage to start to rise, an apology on his lips.
"I'm sor-"
"Don't bother," Takane said loudly, putting a hand on his arm and pulling him back down. "It's none of their business. We don't have to explain ourselves to them."
The other passengers' seats were a tall step higher than theirs, and they loomed over the teens with scowls and judging glares. The two, suddenly appearing like tiny, petulant children, trembled under the heavy mood.
Seto frowned, confused. Why didn't they just stand and hang onto the poles? Keep a hand on the back of a seat for balance? Even he could see that if they continued to just sit there, the other passengers would turn threatening.
What did they hope to gain? What was there to prove?
Why did Ene think this was important to show him?
Takane turned her head up, looking directly at the camera, and the video ended, leaving him lost as to if the students were attacked further or not. He turned his phone vertical again, watching the video minimize back into the YouTube screen. Seto poked and prodded the screen, but it offered no title or information on who posted it, and when he poked for a description, the screen went black. The screen blinked back to his home screen, and he sighed. The video had crashed the app.
Seto tapped open the app again, but it opened to the YouTube home page instead of the last-played video. Strange, but he didn't think much on it.
His attention was taken by the fluff of white hair as soft as cotton candy emerging from the restrooms. Seto smiled, waving a hand to attract Mary's attention, stowing away the phone in his pocket. He didn't question Ene's disappearance, assuming she had hopped back onto Shintaro's phone through the wireless.
The video would be a mystery for another day.
Author's Notes
Takane has Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (ME), also called Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS), the main symptom of which is fatigue. With chronic fatigue, you often find yourself falling asleep in the oddest of places and positions, even when you're engaged in an interesting activity, and even large amounts of sleep are not restorative. Every single day feels like you've pulled an all-nighter. Incurable, not life-threatening. No official treatment. There is next to no funding for research into this disease.
This is my NaNoWriMo project this year.
