Catharsis
By: Aviantei
a
I couldn't give you a solid excuse if I tried.
The first two years of high school went by in a blur. I wrote some, I lost some. A senpai invited me to join his club—I quit after he graduated. Somewhere, I must have had some good ideas, and a whole lot of bad ones. But I was giving it my best, or so I liked to tell myself. You're probably tired of this self-depreciating nonsense by now, but what can I say?
Optimism was never my forte.
Nor was punctuality.
Passed deadlines haunted me more than Ishikawa's presence looming over my grades, my student-teacher conferences. Not for my homework, but to myself. A once active daily word journal became deadweight in the mess of my apartment. I stopped writing short stories, turned to longer projects. Attempted to hit a chapter a week, then every two weeks, then once a month, then—
Saying "I gave up" wasn't pretty, but it was at least the truth.
b
Considering the socially exhausting weekend I had had, going back to school should have been some relief. We didn't have Literary Club meetings on Mondays, so my afternoon was all mine. This was good, because I had once again failed to touch my homework. A day's worth of lectures followed by several hours completing my assignments in isolation was just what I needed.
Too bad Hiromi was in my class. And sat two rows across from me. And was wearing yet another perfect scarf (this one suited to match his uniform). Oh, and he tried to catch my attention first thing in the morning, but I buried my nose in an anthology (that I was only partway reading). He seemed to acknowledge it as the "I don't want to talk" signal that is was.
Must've learned that from failed attempts to pester Nase, I considered.
He did glance at me a few times during lectures. I only noticed because I kept glancing at him. The seatmate in between us scowled at me partway through our history lecture, which stopped my unnecessary surveillance. It was bad enough having the Literary Club on me. I didn't need anyone else's attention. Kanbara's recruitment incident was fresh in mind, too.
I think I was only saved from an invitation to lunch when a few third-years from another class (I thought) snagged Hiroomi first.
The second half of the day went in a similar fashion. I hated myself for being so dumb about it. The rumors I had considered in my state of Nase Manor induced paranoia seemed much more likely now. But there was something about realizing that a person was so close to you on a regular basis that threw you off. Made you want to double-check that it was real.
This was why I was better off alone.
c
"Sugiyama," called the class representative whose name I hadn't bothered to remember. The rest of our class had flown into the bustle of post-lessons: chattering friends, packed up bags, the hard scrape of chair legs on the floor. Those on classroom duty loitered, and someone had opened the windows, letting in the smell of leaves from the trees outside. "Ishikawa-sensei wants you in the teachers' office."
She at least had the courtesy not to speak too loudly, but even her presence over my desk caught drew attention, like ants to left out cake. Hiroomi's mellow green gaze met mine in concern; I looked back to the class representative with a nod.
"Understood," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. It seemed pointless since I'd just be back in the room to do my homework before long, but I preferred not to leave it lying around practical strangers. I couldn't read if my representative wanted to leave things be or scold me more. "Thank you." I ducked out of the room before a certain boy could intercept me.
Having spent my most recent afternoons locked up by unfinished assignments, I had forgotten what bustle the hallway could grow to post-class. Most people were bee-lining for the stairs, heading towards the library, clubs, home. A few rare clumps of people chatted in place. I didn't care to make out their conversations. I just didn't want to attract too much attention when I broke from the throng to enter the teachers' office.
A radio whispered out a traditional music station. Fresh-brewed coffee coated the air, unable to cover the faint trace of tobacco—our first-year math teacher's nasty habit. With class just dismissed, not many of the faculty was present. It was easy to pick out which desk was Ishikawa's from his dark hair.
"Afternoon, Sensei," I said, trying to keep up a modicum of politeness. "Has Nase told you about the Literary Club's progress? We should be able to start pulling together our proper anthology list soon."
My forced enthusiasm for my forced club activities was not the way to go. "Sugiyama-san," Ishikawa said, a frown dragging down the corners of his face. Damn, serious mode today. His lighter side annoyed me on principal, but would have been preferable. "I'm glad you've finally chosen to join a club, but this is not the time."
Damn. Two strikes. Ishikawa was playing hardball. I was going to hit an out sooner than I liked.
"You're maintaining your grades," my sensei continued, "but we need to take account of your tardiness, too." Naturally, I always enjoyed a front-row view to expositions of my flaws. The lack of a chair meant I had to remain standing. Even my mother offered seating when she lectured me. "You're a bright young woman. I shouldn't have to tell you the rest."
"I can't turn in a homework assignment to save my life, got it," I quipped. Ishikawa didn't scold me. Whatever bizarre favoritism he held in my favor still held. What did I have to do to break it? "If you don't mind, I'd like to skip to the consequences, please."
Ishikawa held his breath for several moments; I could only guess he was repressing a sigh. I didn't blame him. Such a caring teacher shouldn't have had to put up with crappy students like me. "The other teachers have insisted we call your parents for weeks." Ouch, the school year hadn't even been going on that long. "I've convinced them you've had a rough start to the year, but if they don't see any improvement, they're going to take action."
Which would be worse? Them getting ahold of my mom, with all her self-righteous loudmouth glory, or getting a call from my supportive but disappointed dad? Neither was the outcome I wanted, but, unlike his Literary Club invitations, Ishikawa had given me an ultimatum here.
Doing well in school makes it easier to do what you want in the future.
Ah, dammit.
"Okay." My voice was a near whisper, competing with the radio for the most-quiet-but-still-audible reward. Pressed the nail from my index finger into the soft pad of my thumb. I needed parameters. "All assignments? What's the deadline?"
Ishikawa looked relieved from my sudden interest. Even if he knew I acted from self-preservation, it was progress to him.
"Marked improvement. This is your last week for constant tardiness. Your grades aren't in issue, so you just need to have your work on time. And if you don't maintain your grade level from last year on your end of the trimester exams, then you'll be bumped from the college prep course."
A week. That gave me until the end of the month. If I wanted to be a smartass, I could turn in half-done assignments, but making my grades an issue would just cause another problem. Though getting pushed into non-prep course wouldn't be awful, just annoying to explain to my parents.
"I think I can do that." I hoped I could. With the anthology deadline coming on the horizon, there was only so much time. I didn't want to give up my blog, either. What did that mean I had to eliminate from my schedule?
How about being a lazy, unmotivated piece of crap?
Yes, that, thank you.
Ishikawa smiled and stood up. His shift from being below my line of sight to above it didn't inspire much self-confidence. "I know you're capable of doing great things," he assured, sounding every bit like the background characters in fiction I hated. "Your first year showed that. You can do more than replicate that. You can expand it and grow."
Those words were meant to make me feel better, but they didn't do much good, either.
d
I stepped out from the teachers' office to find Hiroomi standing on the other side of the hallway, waiting for me. I couldn't tell whether to scowl or to smile. I forced the former. The latest load of homework I had received today (a right headache with the weekend's par to fill, too) had been dumped on him, too. Didn't he have something better to do? How about harass his sister?
He held up a green pen. One of mine. "It fell from your bag when you left," he supplied. "Thought you might want it."
At this rate, most of our exchanges were going to be about things I forgot in his presence. The lamest of character interaction flags. I wanted to strangle myself from the dribble I had to endure.
"You didn't have to worry about it. I need to stay over in the classroom anyway." There wasn't any way he could have known that, but I didn't have the energy to continue this path right now. The only way to get my slacker ass to do my homework was to sit in the classroom and do it—so I planned to work through my late assignments and the new stuff from my school desk. Either I would finish everything or the school would kick me out. One of the two. "If you're heading home, you should go ahead. Don't wait up for me."
I retrieved my pen with the delicacy of a surgeon, making sure to only grip the end farthest from Hiroomi's own hand. I tucked it down the side of my bag, and Hiroomi only seemed to notice his own bag from his shoulder when I gave it a pointed look. His lack of a farewell brought me to the most annoying conclusion.
"Oh no. You are not trying to walk me home."
"Actually, I was going to invite you a café I know to thank you for your work this weekend." Even worse. Hiroomi put on a smile and shrugged. "No dice?"
"Haven't you heard? I'm the Truant Queen of the Prep Class," I bluffed. If I had the energy, I would have added a sweep of my arm. I saved the effort for a character in writing project. You know, assuming I ever wrote again. "My list of missing assignments is so long it'd make a Yankee jealous."
I hoped the display would put him off me. Kanbara's assessment of "my-pace" rose in my consciousness. Even for the siscon type, there had to be such a thing as too weird to associate with.
Hiroomi's smile didn't falter, the end of his chin dipping just below the rim of his scarf. Who went out in those accessories when summer was right around the corner, anyway? "Vending machine fare will have to do then," he concluded. I almost considered attempting to buy him out, before I remembered the size of his goddamn house. "Just wait here. I'll be right back."
I did no such thing and headed back up the two flights of stairs the second Hiroomi's back was turned.
e
Unlike my hint from the morning, Hiroomi didn't take it. Instead, he followed me back to the classroom, tugging the door shut as I started on my first set of science assignments. I didn't answer him when he offered me a drink. He must've assumed I was trying to focus instead of getting offended. I hoped he would leave.
When he settled down in the desk that sat between mine and his and started on his homework, I snatched up the offered fruit milk from the line of choices and got back to work.
The hours stretched on, both of us working on our homework. He, having done his assignments on time, naturally finished first. My wish for solitude was crushed when Hiroomi started skimming through one of the club anthologies. For all the reports of his slacking, he seemed to be pretty studious.
You know, when Kanbara wasn't there to drag the conversation in a dumb direction.
Since Hiroomi attended the college prep course with me, I shouldn't have been surprised.
Being the Truant Queen of the Prep Class, I was the only problem.
I took one break to drop my tardy work off in the teachers' office (going there twice in one day was bad enough), then hopped onto my homework for that evening. The sunlight dimmed as evening approached. The last warning bell of the day rang.
f
Hiroomi packed up his anthology as I fell across my desk, crumpling the pages of my notebook beneath me. Giving a damn did not come to mind, even if I tried to take care of my stationary. Despite my efforts, I still had a set of history questions to research, plus brushing up for the literature quiz waiting on the next morning.
Being an effective student was just as soul sucking as I remembered.
"Ready to go?" Hiroomi asked, the laugh in his voice enough for me to catch it was a joke. Just barely, though. If I had shit for societal functionality on a good day, this moment pushed close to an all-time low. "Sorry if we distracted you from your work over the weekend."
Not even close to the truth. Still, if he wanted that to be the reason, I wouldn't argue. I shrugged, letting him take it as he would. My neck strained, muscles adjusting to my change in posture.
"I take it you're still opposed to me walking you home?" I narrowed my eye into a slit at him, the other pressing against my glasses. I sat up to wipe away the resulting smudge. "Are you still upset about me waking you up?"
What was I supposed to say? That getting dragged into the Literary Club was bad enough? That I didn't like guys with sister complexes? That being around others was so damn excruciating that his presence made me want to hurl and trip over myself all at the same time?
The rest of the Literary Club already knew where I lived. Assuming Nase hadn't told her brother already, did I really want this guy to know, too?
Even though he looked cute, just standing around in his school uniform?
Once I start thinking like that, it's a clear sign I need to go to bed.
"I'd rather not dwell on that, thanks," I said, working on packing up my bag. Sparing myself the incident of forgetting them at home, I left my already completed assignments in my desk. Hiroomi collected the empty bottled and cartons (we had drunk through all six of them) and tossed them out. Ready to go, I stood up. "Aren't you sick of me yet, though? You can be honest. I won't get offended."
Hiroomi glanced back to me, his hand on the door handle. I lifted my chair into place, avoiding the offending scrape against the floor. "If anything, I'm sure you're sick of me, Sugiyama-san."
I grimaced. He had read me, again. Then again, I had made it obvious, but I didn't expect to be straight up called out on it. He had done the same before, too. How unpleasant, Kuriyama would have said.
"If I say yes, will you leave me alone?" I chanced.
"No."
"What if I act polite and say no?"
"Also no."
I had maintained a smile, but let it drop. "What is it with all of you?" I held out my fingers as I listed them off: "First Kanbara comes in here and makes a mess. Then Kuriyama puts me on a pedestal. Your brat of a sister harasses me into doing her bidding. And now you." I pointed all four offending fingers at the boy in question, my free hand on my hip. "You're playing friendly even though we've never spoken before this. What gives?"
Hiroomi opened the door. I wouldn't have been surprised if he walked out, but he gestured into the hall. A ladies first gesture. The chivalrous pervert wasn't one of my preferred character types. Since we would end up scolded if we stayed too long past the warning, I headed out with him, sneering all the way.
A few leftover club members trickled towards the front gates with us from across all years. No one even paid attention to us, which begged the question of why I was so fixated on them.
"You're wrong," Hiroomi said, halfway across the front yard. I flicked my eyes to him in the bare minimum acknowledgement. "We've spoken before."
Well then. "I don't recall."
"Last year. I tried to get you to join the Literary Club." That explained why I didn't remember it. I'd had so many people proposition me on Ishikawa's behalf that I could hardly distinguish them all. Hiroomi chuckled. "You didn't even acknowledge me." Ah, no wonder he thought I didn't pay attention to others. Too bad he only took hints when it was convenient for him.
A couple of students ran past us, laughing. The sticky mug of humidity finally choked down my back, threatening sweat. I tugged off my uniform jacket and loosened the ribbon at my neck. Hiroomi made no such moves to beat the heat, scarf remaining in place.
"You're not hot with that on?" I ventured, steering the conversation in a different direction. If we had to talk, I would have preferred it to be about something less unsavory. If he and Kanbara could intrude on everyone's ears with discussions of their fetishes, I could do the same about mine. "Come to think of it, you even wear that with your summer uniform, too. At least have some sense for the season."
Hiroomi's eyes glinted. "Oh, so you did remember me."
Goddamn everything to the lowest tier of hell.
I made a sound like a cat surfacing from a sudden dip in water, and Hiroomi's chuckle grew into a laugh. "Sorry, not the question." He pinched one end of the scarf between his fingers, holding it up to eye level. The tassels at the end bounced with his steps. "I use it for fortunetelling, so I can't take it off."
I smacked his arm for, scolding his choice of dumb jokes.
"Fine, fine," he relented. "I get cold very easily, even when it's warm out. The scarf keeps me warm, plus it doesn't violate the dress code."
I nodded my appreciation. So I'd be treated to a scarf show every meeting of the Literary Club, even as summer approached. Ishikawa-sensei should have just mentioned that in the first place. Would've made his job a lot easier.
We turned in the same direction out the front gate, the teacher on duty waiting to close it up behind us. Since I knew where he lived, I could at least say he wasn't outright following me. For now. Our paths home didn't head in the exact same direction, and I knew which point to start feeling suspicious at.
Well, rightfully suspicious. I couldn't do much to help my default state of mind.
"So is that fortunetelling stuff true?" Curiosity got the better of me. There was no such thing, but I had to ask. Research was part of the writer's field after all, even if I was crappy at the actual writing part.
"I mean, I've only heard rumors about your family. Is that really how your folks make their living?"
I left out by being total hacks and how you're such a fucking rich kid to be polite.
Hiroomi gave me look like he could read my mind, but answered, "Yes, actually. We were onmyoji several generations ago. Nowadays, the demon hunting is much less profitable, but everyone needs a good divination every now and then." Whoa, he sounded one-hundred percent serious, too. I guess you couldn't help it when you grew up in an environment that encouraged that stuff. "I can tell you're skeptic."
"Well, uh—" My tongue tangled between exhibiting manners and just being point blank blunt. His smile cut off any chance of my speaking coherently.
"Alright, then, Sugiyama-san," Hiroomi said, "how about I read your fortune for you?"
g
"This is stupid," I said, hunched over in a booth of the nearest fast food place. Hiroomi's wallet had supplied the meal, though the food remained on the sidelines to keep the table clear between us.
My blunt honesty came far too late. Hiroomi didn't scold me, just rested his hands palms up on the table. "It won't take long," he assured. I wondered how much of my combo meal I could carry without a bag while running. Not enough to make it worth it. "Now, your hands if you please."
I wanted to die and told Hiroomi as such.
"You're not the first person whose fortune I've read in public, Sugiyama-san. No need to be shy."
Like hell I was being shy. Not wanting to fall into the labeling trap of being called a tsundere, I lifted my hands to Hiroomi's after scouting the joint for any students from our school. The coast was clear, and I tried not to squirm at the sensation of Hiroomi's fingers curling around mine.
He wasn't kidding about being cold.
His hands were smooth, without any wear and tear of work. Just as expected of a Literary Club rich kid. Mine were much the same, just with thinner fingers and longer nails, a sign of my slacker life. Across from me, Hiroomi had closed his eyes. I was supposed to do the same, but I didn't want to miss any tricks he might pull on me in the process.
"Eyes shut, please, Sugiyama-san," he instructed without opening his own a fraction. Anyone could have guessed that from my reluctant attitude, but I did as told anyway. No sense in making this go on longer than it needed to. "Thank you. Now this is a very basic method, so I won't be able to reach anything too deep, but it will give me the groundwork to do a more in-depth reading later on, alright?"
In other words, I was getting the cheap generic version. Very easy to discredit.
I waited for the string of questions. Cold readings tended to work off of generic statements and leading questions. Hiroomi didn't say anything, leaving me with only the background noise of the restaurant to fill my thoughts: the cashier asking for clarification on a customer's order, the rattle of ice as it cascaded into someone's cup. I considered peeking at Hiroomi, but the presence of his hands in mine assured he wasn't checking some paper or something to supplement his "fortunetelling."
Two order call numbers from the cashier later (which probably took around ten minutes), Hiroomi pulled his hands away. "You can open your eyes now."
I did so and was greeted by an amused smile. I clicked my tongue and reached for my cooled down burger. He had probably just been watching me to see how long I would fall for it. "If you wanted to pretend you were holding your sister's hand you should've picked someone else."
Hiroomi choked halfway through a long sip through his straw, on the cusp of spit-taking soda across from the table. I smirked in victory, not allowing him the time to retort.
"So what's in store for my future, Mystic Hiroomi?" I prompted. The sharp bite of mustard and pickles exploded across my tongue.
Hiroomi recovered his pleasant expression with an annoying amount of grace. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
I glared through my lenses. "You can't just expect me to let you embarrass me in public and get away with a lame answer like that." He frowned, not appreciating my classification of holding his hands as an embarrassment. I just called them like I saw them, thank you. "Unless you want me to let Nase know my original theory, I suggest you start talking."
"Well, then." As expected, playing the little sister card worked. Hiroomi considered his options while chewing his way through a French fry dipped in barbeque sauce. I would stick with my unhealthy abundance of salt. "You're going to have four turning points in your fate very soon." Hiroomi held up the corresponding number of fingers in reference to my earlier gesture.
"Do tell." I focused on my free meal, licking stray burger grease from my lips.
"First off, one of them is very close. In the next week, it seems. Fate's already working on that point." Hiroomi continued munching between assessments. Watching someone so rich eat food so cheap was a sight for sure.
I didn't feel impressed, and I set my expression to reflect as much. "You literally just saw me get called to the teachers' office," I discredited. "Not too hard to figure out."
Hiroomi unwrapped his chicken sandwich, the lettuce cutting a sharp slice of green against our rather monotone surroundings. "Second," he continued, completely undeterred, "you're going to have a major project come to completion."
"We're literally working on the same club anthology." We were only halfway through this charade and he was already 0-2. Not even close to a passing grade. I bit off a stray end of burger hanging from my bun. "Are you even really trying?"
"I told you this was a very generic reading," he reminded. Generic was right. "Third, an old friend will reenter your life."
I rolled my eyes. "When?" Something like that wasn't very uncommon, so predicting it couldn't have been a surprise. On personal practice, I didn't have many friends, let alone old ones. The closest I could get was someone from middle school reaching out or sticking their nose in my business. It wouldn't be unlike Dad to encourage something in that ballpark. "It's not going to be very impressive if you can't tell me that once."
Hiroomi frowned, sat down his sandwich, and closed his eyes. I thought he was going to ask for my hands again. I took a loud slurp from my drink on purpose, but didn't break his apparent concentration. When he opened his eyes again, he looked pleased with himself. "Within the next two months. No later."
Okay, I couldn't figure out which formula he had derived that from. Pulled it out of his ass would be my guess. "What do I get if you're wrong?" I asked, slouching back into my seat.
"'What you get?'" Hiroomi's expression of confidence only matched my own. "I didn't take you for the betting type. But there's nothing I want to win from you right now, Sugiyama-san, so I think I'll pass on the offer."
"Afraid you'll lose then," I assessed with a shrug. Hiroomi shook his head. "Well, that's three of the four. Give me the grand finale, Mystic Hiroomi." Even I couldn't tell what sort of bullshit he would pull for that one.
"Ah, yes. That one." His smile transcended to a smirk. I focused on his scarf to make me feel better. "Considering your reactions thus far, I'm sure you won't believe me, even if I told you."
His pride as the heir to a respected family of fortunetellers had to be dented somewhat. His attempt at saving face was not lost on me.
Naturally, I didn't let him get away with it. "That's just cheap." I toyed with my straw between my fingers. "You're not seriously going to give me such an incomplete reading, are you?" I settled into figuring out just how much of my cup I could drain in one breath.
"I'm sure you'll just brush it off, but if you insist." My skepticism had worn down the ends of his patience. Good. "The fourth development in your fate is going to be in your love life—"
I snorted with enough force to drop my cup and send a wave of fruit punch across the table, crashing into both of our uniforms.
h
Removing the outermost layers of my uniform to counter the heat meant I only had an annoying red stain on my white shirt to scrub out that night. Hiroomi had the unfortunate problem of his jacket, vest, and shirt all sticky from the assault. The scarf went unharmed. A concerned worker helped us mop up the table and offered us a replacement of our drenched food. I declined on both of our accounts, Hiroomi having retreated to the bathroom to tidy himself up. Unlike myself, he at least had the benefits of maids to clean his uniform before school the next day.
I gave my half-sarcastic, half-convincing apology for the mess. It served him right for giving me such a lame attempt at reading my fortune anyway.
An upcoming development in my love life of all things. Honestly.
"Oh, you finished throwing everything away?" Hiroomi asked on his return. We had eaten most of our food anyway, so not too much had gone to waste. I had refilled my drink and was starting to pack up my bag. "I'll finish walking you home then."
"People usually don't do courteous things for others that mess up their clothes," I observed.
His vest and jacket were hung over his arm, and the offending dots of punch on his shirt were covered up by his scarf (effective and adorable). My own jacket did well to cover up my similar stain, though the damp fabric still clung to my skin. I smelled like high fructose corn syrup, but that was better than the stench of concentrated fast food oil.
Hiroomi took my retort in stride. "Think of it as your punishment for making a mess," he proposed.
I cursed and let him follow as I stormed out the door.
i
The saving grace came in the form of Hiroomi keeping his mouth shut the rest of the way home. I did no such thing as to encourage conversation. Night had fallen over us, our path lit by streetlamps that did more good at attracting moths. By this point in the evening, I tended to be curled up in my latest form of procrastination.
No, I couldn't go along with that tonight. I still had homework to do. Plus we had a club meeting the next day, and any good member would try to avoid being late just because they didn't turn in their work. The sooner I got Ishikawa-sensei and the rest of the high school staff off my back, the better.
By the time we reached my door, I remembered that I hadn't seen Hiroomi at an after-school Literary Club meeting once. As much as I wanted to fling open my door and retreat inside, I tucked my key away post-unlocking my apartment and turned to my classmate.
"You're not going to skip out tomorrow, are you?" I demanded.
I knew for a fact no one else from our school lived in my apartment complex, so I didn't have to worry about what could spring from someone seeing the two of us like this. And I wasn't inviting him inside through any chance in hell, so what he thought of my intentions didn't matter in the slightest.
"Why, Sugiyama-san," he said, "are you actually looking forward to seeing me?"
Okay, maybe what he thought of my intentions did matter, and I was an idiot for not catching on sooner.
Admittedly, I had only had one weekend's worth of experience around Hiroomi, so I couldn't say what was his normal. But I had read enough crappy romance books and shojo manga to recognize this scenario when it came up. Real life wasn't fiction, but his tone and joke about my developing love life did leave open a realm of very slim possibility.
He's not…flirting with me, is he?
Being a siscon, this concept was unlikely. I held onto that, even as my brain fired off in obnoxious alert. Again, I was not playing the cliché romantic hell here, and I was not going to be a stubborn heroine, either. I was going to keep up with my schoolwork, find a way to start writing again (the best joke of them all), and finish up the Literary Club special anthology before running for the goddamn hills.
"I want you to do your share of the work. Skippers like you are the exact reason I got dragged into joining in the first place." I turned away and opened the door, a miniature heat wave rolling into my face. I would need to crack the windows before I left tomorrow. "If you even think of leaving that classroom without me as your escort, I'll find a way to turn Nase against you so hard you won't even recover. Try to walk me home again, and I'll do the same thing." Whether my outburst or threat, Hiroomi remained speechless. I stepped inside. "See you tomorrow."
I slammed the door shut, locked it behind me, and kicked off my shoes. Hiroomi called something at the door, but with the distance I had put between us, I couldn't make out the muffled words.
I made it to my futon and collapsed, allowing myself a minute to ignore my homework and recover from the sheer exhaustion.
Catharsis
FIFTH
I'm really not suited for this kind of life at all…
[Avi's Much Anticipated(?) Notes]
One of the things I appreciate about this story is how easy it is to get back into writing Sugiyama's voice. For whatever reason, I have no problem writing her, no mater how long its been. I guess I shouldn't be proud that my lack of work on this project comes without much consequences, but at least that means the quality doesn't suffer.
That said, much thanks to Tsk (Guest), Sjsh (Guest), BellaMarlee83111, chiyouki, yaaas (Guest), Skymaiden777, kalmaegi, amgs, Gloss and Glitters, Whispers of the wind, IamZERO, xxxbluexxx1008, Skywaters, pr0blem0, Helen Teng, Cassie Throne27, Hatsue Nakata, bulbasaurcrossing, VioletFan123, lette4127, eggbam, Hurricane. '97, and ElectricWolf14 for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. I know I came close to a year between updates, but I'm working on that. Thank you very, very, very much for the support!
"So what are you doing so that there isn't another year between updates again?" Uh, well, not sure on guaranteeing that one. But I am getting back into writing more regularly and I'm trying to keep frequent updates on all those dumb stories I started and didn't think of how to finish in a timely manner. For more regular news on what I'm writing and such, check out my Twitter, Plot_K_Bunny.
But to the chapter at hand: This was a very fun opportunity to play around with how I've tweaked the world-building a bit. What better way than with a fortune reading?! And actual Sugiyama and Hiroomi interaction?! Finally, goddamn, am I right? There's more to come, too, so keep an eye out!
What else should you keep an eye out for? [Twelve Shots of Summer] is what! For a fourth year, we'll be hosting our prompted one-shot weekly writing challenge over in the forums. I'll be doing original fiction this year (sweats), but fanfic is obviously welcome! It's a fun challenge with a great community, so I'd love it if you'd stop on by.
That's enough rambling from me. I'll get the next chapter up and running once I slap some updates on other much abandoned stories. Please look forward to it!
[05.30.2017]