Catharsis

By: Aviantei

a

Should we call it funny how different things look in hindsight?

Would bringing up that whole "20/20" schtick be too cliché?

Well, I guess it doesn't matter.

What happened still happened. Can't change any of that.

But remembering. That's where the problems lie.

-2b

"You've had your nose in that computer of yours for a few weeks. You working on something good?"

It was late fall—about half a year since my date of starting at Nagatsuki and joining its Literary Club. Overall, I would say joining was an excellent decision, and not just because it let me be in Kamiya-senpai's presence. It was like when I'd gone to the writing camp. There was something so fulfilling about being around others that shared the same passion, and that enthusiasm bred further excitement in me. It was a wonder that I even got my homework done with how much reading and writing I was cramming into my schedule.

Kamiya-senpai was across the table from me in the club room. Most of the other members were focusing on reading through their books of choice, but I'd gotten into the zone with the fiction piece I was working on, so I'd brought my trusty Koyo along to keep things going. Kamiya-senpai grinned and reached for my computer. "You've caught my attention with how intense you look when you're writing," he said. "Lemme see."

"You can't do that, Kamiya-senpai," I said, drawing Koyo to my chest. "It's just a draft! It's way too messy to let anyone else see it."

"Come on, you write some of the cleanest drafts I've ever seen! It won't be that bad, Sugiyama-chan."

Takahashi-senpai closed the (thick as ever) novel she was working through and knocked its spine up against Kamiya-senpai's head. He grunted and faceplanted into the table, and I took the opportunity to save my work, close out of my word processor, and shut down Koyo for some rest in a few deft keystrokes.

"You never share your drafts, President," Takahashi-senpai said, sounding every bit like a scolding mother despite being one year Kamiya-senpai's junior. By my tally, that gained her another You're an Absolute Goddess point. "You can't go around pulling out these short stories right before we're about to compile the anthologies and expect other people to just pass their drafts off to you without a moment's warning."

"Well, yeah, but I'm the senpai here. Doesn't that give me some sort of right to the goods?"

"That's not how it works, and you know it." Distracted from their own literary efforts by the squabble(?) that had broken out, a few other club members chimed in with comments like "Don't be so stingy, Pres," and "Let us read what you're working on, first!" Kamiya-senpai laughed and scratched at the back of his head, but he didn't press the issue any further.

"Still," Takahashi-senpai said, flipping her novel back open but not yet settling back in to read, "I am glad that you're working on something, Sugiyama-chan. It's always nice to know that we'll have some pieces submitted when the anthology comes around—last year was kind of stressful."

"Yeah, for real," said Sakamaki-senpai, another second year who was in the same class as Takahashi. Sakamaki-senpai propped his hand up on his fist. "I mean, it's not a requirement that you write something if you're in the club, but pulling stuff from non-club members can be kinda tough. We did okay with the first anthology this year, but…"

Yoshijima let out a sigh so large that it sent the parts of their bangs not held down by a hairclip flutter through the air. They were a first year like me, but, because our electives were so different, we only saw each other in club. "We've already had two members resign on us, and they were both writers. I get that Togashi-senpai decided to go and focus on college entrance exams, but that's a big blow right there."

Thinking about the recruitment work we'd have to do to fill up our anthology was enough to dampen everyone's spirits. We all loved reading and writing, that was for sure, but the behind the scenes work it took to make the anthology a reality was pretty sobering stuff. It didn't detract from my ambition to push into the world of publishing one day, but that didn't make it any less hard of work.

"Okay, come on. No need to get so gloomy," Kamiya-senpai said, clapping his hands together. "Things may be tough, but they're not impossible to get through. Besides," he continued, drawing himself up to his full height in his seat and slapping a hand to his chest, "you've got me as your president. If all else fails, I'll just write some extra pieces to fill in the slots. You can count on me!"

"Says the guy who should be studying for entrance exams."

"We're not so bent out of shape that we need to dump all the work on you, Pres."

"Yeah! We'll be so efficient that you won't even have anything left to do!"

With Koyo still in my lap, I tightened my grip around his edges, already thinking about the tapping feel of the keys against my fingertips, how each and every stroke put characters on the screen that could create whole new worlds in the process. "I'll be sure to write something good," I said, making a proclamation before the club. But more than for them, and even more for myself, it was a declaration for Kamiya-senpai. "I'll make a piece that's so great it'll move you to tears! No matter what, we're gonna make this anthology a success!"

c

In comparison to who I'd become in a few years, maybe saying something like that wouldn't be much of a surprise. But thinking on who I was then—a first year seeking out validation in the form of the senpai I'd built up to be my idol—saying something with such unfettered confidence was unlike me. So unlike me that I had a hard time believing that the words had even left my mouth. But, then, at that time—

-2d

Kamiya-senpai gave that unfairly magnanimous smile and said, "I'm sure you'll make it happen, Sugiyama-chan."

-2e

"And that concludes our Literary Club successful second anthology celebration dinner. Everyone, make sure you get home safe. Team…break!"

Though it was late October, the cold weather of winter had already started to worm its way into the air, and most of the other members shrugged on their jackets as we exited the diner that had so patiently put up with our antics for the past hour and a half. I hung back a little bit as I messed with the fasteners on my own jacket, taking stock of the couple of scarves that my fellow club mates put on (Takahashi-senpai was as radiant as I'd expected), when Kamiya-senpai patted my shoulder, breaking me from my stupor.

"What do you say to walking home together?" he asked, and I nodded, hoping he didn't notice as the fastener to the front of my jacket slipped from my fingers. Kamiya-senpai grinned. "Great! I figured I'd give you an extra little treat, from club president to stellar kōhai."

"You don't have to do that, Kamiya-senpai—"

"I'm sure I don't have to tell my brilliant kōhai that 'have' and 'want' are two different words for a reason." Too flustered by the compliment, I couldn't come up with a decent retort and finished doing up my jacket. "Now let's go. Since it's so cold out, I think we could use some coffee or hot cocoa or something, don't you think?"

"Hey, President, you and Sugiyama-chan planning on blocking up the entrance all by yourselves?" Takahashi-senpai asked from the doorway. The rest of the club members were visible just outside, though they were starting to split off on their own paths. It was moments like this that made it feel as if Takahashi-senpai were the real club president and Kamiya-senpai was just a figurehead.

Kamiya-senpai just laughed and stepped forward. I followed in his wake like a duckling after its mother. "Always so on top of things, Katsura-chan. Don't worry, we're heading out. Right, Sugiyama-chan?"

"Right!" I said, unable to repress a shiver as Takahashi-senpai opened the door, letting in a burst of chilly air. "Sorry for holding you up. I was spacing out a bit." Thinking about how great that scarf looks on you, Senpai, I decided not to add. Hunkering down against the winter wind, I stuffed my hands into my pockets, already fantasizing about that drink Kamiya-senpai had promised me. "Sugiyama is ready and reporting for duty."

"Well, at least you two know how to keep things interesting," Takahashi-senpai said with a smile. "Then I'll see you both at club next week. Don't go dragging Sugiyama-chan into anything too wild, got it, President?"

Kamiya-senpai stuck out his tongue while we exchanged farewells, and I snickered. "Well, I don't think that stopping by a café is going to be anything too wild. Let's get a move on, Sugiyama-chan."

"Right!"

Nagatsuki wasn't too large of a city, but it still did take a bit of time to walk from the diner we'd been at to the café that Kamiya-senpai had in mind. Since it was evening, the sky was already dark, though you could see way more stars here than you could back in my hometown. Though Kamiya-senpai was a talkative person, he even seemed to recognize that having a moment in silence was nice about now, and I tucked it away as one of my precious memories. After all, I'd imagined—fantasized about, to be accurate—something like this happening when I came chasing after Kamiya-senpai, but I'd never expected it to become a reality.

I made the right decision coming here.

"Senpai," I said, breaking our little bubble of chilled silence, "thanks for doing this for me. I know you said it's because you want to, but that doesn't mean that I appreciate it any less."

"While I accept your appreciation, you don't gotta run it into the ground. I'm both your senpai and your club president. It would be pretty lame of me if I didn't at least give appreciation where appreciation's due." Kamiya-senpai bumped his fist to his chest twice with a bluster far more suited to a shōnen manga protagonist than an average literary club president. "You wrote a great piece for us, plus you helped encourage other people to submit, so we had no problem putting out a decent anthology. You're part of our club now, too, you know. No need to be so formal all the time."

I almost dropped another thank you very much into the conversation, but that would have only added another layer of formality to things that I didn't think Kamiya-senpai wanted to hear. Then again, what did come out of my mouth wasn't exactly much better:

"In that case, can I call you Noriyaki-senpai instead?"

Considering the level of admiration I had for Kamiya-senpai, it was a miracle I managed to pronounce his given name without stumbling over it. Of course, the implications of what I was asking caught up to me the next second, and I flailed, too flustered to notice the chill seeping into my fingertips. "That was a joke! A joke, for real. I mean, if nothing else, you're more like the club older brother or something. You know, the trope where you're the oldest but it's the younger sibling who's got everything together. Ah! Not to say that you're not a good president; I mean, your writing is phenomenal—but Takahashi-senpai fits the stern older sister type with glasses, you know—"

"I mean," Kamiya-senpai said, "if I had to pick out of the available options, I'd say I'd prefer you call me Noriyaki-senpai over something like 'Onii-chan'—" Oh my god why is there never a convenient hole to just go and fall into when you need it? "—but I agree that Katsura-chan has that big sis vibe. You know, like Onee-sama or something. Oh, I could so see her being a teacher when she graduates. Maybe we should start calling her Sensei."

My laughter spluttered out in a mix of giggles and fog from my breath. "I think Aniki is coolest," I said with no shame. At this point, it wasn't like Kamiya-senpai didn't know I was a nerd. He thought about that statement with a far too contemplative expression for the dumb conversation topic we were on. "But if you insist, I could spare an Onii-chan or two, Noriyaki-senpai."

I'd used my own dumb joke to distract myself from my embarrassment, but getting to voice Noriyaki-senpai instead of just imagining it felt nice. Some part of me worried that it was too presumptuous to jump to given names, considering that we'd known each other for a little over half a year—but if I wasn't going to do it now, when was I going to do it?

High school had a set time limit, and that limit was fast approaching for Kamiya-senpai.

He'd go to college, move away, start his own life.

There was a limit to how long I could follow him.

So for the small time we had left here, I—

Senpai stretched out a hand and patted my back. "If you wanna call me 'Noriyaki-senpai,' then go for it," he said, and I did a rather impressive job at resisting the urge to do a victory dance in the middle of the sidewalk. "However," Noriyaki-senpai continued, raising a single finger in a dramatic pose, "I have one very important condition for this change in referral."

My urge to dance dried up, I swallowed and nodded.

"I get to call you Kazue."

The words didn't register at first, and that was because I'd gotten distracted by the sound of my given name spilling out of Noriyaki-senpai's lips. It was such a rare treat—again, one of those dumb things I'd fantasized about but never thought would happen in the space of reality. If I pinched myself, would it make it too obvious that I thought I was dreaming?

"Ah, wait," Noriyaki-senpai said, backpedaling a bit. "If I just dropped into calling you Kazue, that might be a bit too much, so then it might be better to go for 'Kazue-chan'—"

"It's fine!"

"Huh?"

"Just Kazue is fine! More than fine!" I stepped forward with my most serious expression, determined not to let this one go. It wasn't like I had a vendetta against the '-chan' honorific or anything, but this was one of those once in a lifetime opportunities at large right here! "This may be way too forward of me, but it doesn't bother me at all. So please feel free to call me Kazue, Noriyaki-senpai!"

I gasped for breath like I'd just ran a marathon, and my face was burning hot enough that I didn't even register the cold. Getting so worked up when it wasn't even a love confession or anything seemed a bit pathetic, but maybe in some circles it would be considered moe? Then again, that was such a personal preference that I couldn't take the time to worry about that with the situation I'd left unfolding around me.

"Well, how could I turn down such an honest request?" Noriyaki-senpai said. "We'll call it an extra part of my thanks for all your help. And speaking of…" He pointed across the street, where the lights from inside a café were glowing a welcoming and warm yellow. "Hey, Kazue, why don't we go get that drink I promised you?"

-2f

"Noriyaki-senpai, sorry, but could I ask for your advice on this piece I'm working on before you go?"

December had rolled around, bringing a consistent chill into our club room, even with a heater provided to us our far too kind advisor, Ishikawa-sensei. As such, most of us still had our winter accessories on, and I was starting to worry that maybe I was a little too excited over that prospect—but I'd been so on pins and needles over what I'd been thinking about doing the whole day that I didn't have time to fuss about such things.

Everyone had been trickling out of the room as they headed home—with exams coming up soon, studying was on a lot of people's minds, and club activities provided a limited respite. Noriyaki-senpai paused at my request, then held out his hand to Takahashi-senpai. "I'll take the key and lock up, Katsura-chan. Don't worry; I'll make sure Kazue gets home safe."

"Look at you, Kamiya-kun, acting like a club president for once," Takahashi-senpai said, pulling the clubroom key from her pocket and passing it over. Yoshijima, curious, had poked their head in the doorway, but moved on when Takahashi-senpai waved for them to do so. "Good luck with whatever you're drafting, Sugiyama-chan. I'll look forward to reading it." And with those words and a wave, Takahashi-senpai closed the door, leaving just me and Noriyaki-senpai behind.

Senpai clapped his hands together and wandered back towards the table. "Alright. Let's see what we can do for this story of yours, Kazue—"

I had remained standing, and Noriyaki-senpai realized a few beats too late that I didn't even have Koyo on the table. In fact, my bag was packed up and ready to go. If this were a horror manga or something, this would be the part where I'd pull out a knife and we'd go survival horror up in here—but that wasn't the type of story my life was.

"Sorry, Noriyaki-senpai, but that was just an excuse to get you alone."

This was—

"Let's go do something together on Christmas Eve!"

Christmas Eve.

A holiday with its own connotations in different places around the world. But in Japan, that day was most associated with going out on dates.

Yes, in other words, I was asking Noriyaki-senpai out on a date with no warning because—

This was just the story of an earnest girl who wasn't afraid to do things like that, because she had no reason to doubt.

Noriyaki-senpai looked surprised. I mean, sure, you saw girls confessing in fiction all the time, but how many of those scenarios involved a kōhai approaching her senpai? How many of them connected with the idea of reality instead of that other world that existed in the imagination?

In case you haven't noticed, I was getting into theoretical discussion because I was so damn nervous.

Nervous was one of those words that didn't seem to fit on Noriyaki-senpai at all, and I wouldn't have used it to describe him them. I did think, though, that my request had caught him off guard, because shock was the emotion painted over his expression. It was such a rare sight, but I was too busy trying to think of anything else other than the fact that the contents of my stomach felt like they were about to launch all the way up my throat. If it weren't for the fact that I didn't see any romance in the whole "indirect" confession style, I would have done that.

But I wanted to tell you, face to face, in person, with the words formed not by my fingers creating characters, but instead the syllables rolling off my tongue.

"Well, when you put me on the spot like this," Noriyaki-senpai said, scratching at the back of his neck, "I dunno if I can keep up being the cool senpai." He let out a soft laugh, and my throat was too constricted to laugh along with him. I could see the color rising up his neck, like a mercury thermometer on a hot day. "But if nothing else, I guess I can just give my genuine reaction and say sure.

"Let's go do something together on Christmas Eve, Kazue."

Maybe it would have been better if I had kept my cool. Maybe it would have been better if I wasn't such a total klutz. But those sorts of things were best suited for the far more coordinated, and I knocked over a chair as I went in for the hug. Noriyaki-senpai met me halfway, and he adjusted my glasses back into place from where they'd slipped back onto my nose. The room was still cold, but neither of us minded much.

g

Back then, I still believed in happy endings.

-2h

Though it doesn't seem like it fit in with my character, I had dated someone before Noriyaki-senpai. Of course, calling it "dating" may have been a stretch, considering that I'd been pretty young at the time—can you even call relationships formed at early middle school age dating? Regardless, it hadn't lasted too long (as relationships at that age tend to go), and afterwards I'd gotten so sucked into my writing that acknowledging other people as serious romantic prospects wasn't something I did.

Well, aside from my obvious massive crush on Noriyaki-senpai, but that was less of the point.

What was the point was that our Christmas Eve date was nice. It also led to several other dates. They were never anything too complicated—we were both high school students without part-time jobs and limited allowances from our parents. Half the time we would just relax at each other's places and read or work on writing together. We shared drafts, discussed ideas, went to the temple at New Years' together, prepared for the next upcoming edition of Shiba-hime, had a good luck date for Noriyaki-senpai's upcoming entrance exams, and walked home together after school and club.

It was happy. Simple.

So then that begged the question—

Why the hell did you do this?

-2i

"Did you read this? This is amazing!"

An honest expression of praise.

"Yeah, I totally cried while I was looking over it. How'd you even do that?"

"Your style's so smooth, too. You've definitely improved since you were a first year."

Those expressions, discussing the kind of pure emotion that I'd always wanted to have come from the words I strung together.

"Senpai, will you help me work on my next story?"

"Oh, me, too, me, too!"

And then—that laugh, as casual and as natural as if it were earned from a genuine effort.

"You're praising me too much. I wouldn't be able to do this without the support of my precious club members."

Another smattering of laughter, but this time from the others, all acting without a single clue of what the reality of the situation was.

"Don't be so modest."

"Yeah, that kind of attitude doesn't suit you at all."

Words I would have loved to have accepted, but they weren't directed at me, but instead at—

"You should be proud of yourself, Kamiya-kun."

But what was there to be proud of when the work everyone was praising hadn't been written by his hand, but instead mine?

-2j

It wasn't too hard of a trick to figure out. Noriyaki-senpai and I had been dating. We shared our drafts and our work. We'd become close beta reading partners. And considering how I refused to share my works until I'd completed and polished them, he was the only other person who even knew what I was writing. I'd been the one to pass him a copy of my work myself, hoping for input before bringing it to the club.

But he'd taken it and passed it off as his own. As someone with a reputation for being able to write in a variety of distinct styles, it wasn't all that surprising that they believed him without issue whenever he presented it.

I could've pitched a fit about it. Made an accusation. Takahashi-senpai may not have backed me up right away, but she would have at least listened. Made sure I got the chance to tell my side of the story. See if it had any merit. Hell, even if I was worried about her, I could have gone to Ishikawa-sensei; he was our advisor; he would have been impartial.

But I didn't do it.

I knew, deep in my heart, that the others wouldn't want to see such an accusation hurled at their beloved president, the infallible Kamiya Noriyaki. Even if it ended up just viewed as the attention seeking stunt of an underclassman, that doubt would put a stain on their wonderful memories of the past one, two, three years. No one wanted to go through that.

I didn't want to go through with that.

So I kept my mouth shut.

Forced out another piece that was clunky and nowhere near worthy of publication.

Thanked him for the time together but made up an excuse that it would be difficult to date while he was going away for college.

Noriyaki Kamiya, now alumni and former president of the Nagatsuki High School Literary Club, age eighteen.

Sugiyama Kazue, now second year in high school, age sixteen.

Their story was supposed to end there, and yet—

k

Sugiyama Kazue, third year in high school, (somewhat unwilling) Nagatsuki High School Literary Club member, age seventeen.

Noriyaki Kamiya, presumed second year university student, for some reason standing in the Literary Club's room a year and some change post his graduation, age nineteen.

I was the only one who was frozen in place. To everyone else, it just seemed like an old alumnus had shown up out of the blue. An unusual event, yes, but nothing so out of left field that it would be considered all that strange. But for me, it was a scenario I had never pictured. He'd already gotten the boost he'd wanted out of his school. Why come back?

Third, the memory of Hiroomi's voice echoed inside my mind, an old friend will reenter your life.

The implication of this being what he was talking about was enough to make me want to vomit all over again.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. No name, no honorific, just the informal and grating omae that I never used, unless it was in character dialogue. The syllables tasted unfamiliar yet satisfying on my tongue. If I said I didn't know why I hadn't used something even more grating, like "you bastard," I would be lying.

Part of me didn't want the others to know that something was wrong.

The other oh so pathetic part of me still looked up him, even if it was a lie.

"Geez, so cold, Kazue," Kamiya said with just enough mock playfulness. "I know we haven't seen each other in a while, but is that how you wanna start things off with your old senpai?" I didn't have a good response. What could I even say? "But to answer your question, I got a request from the new president to see if I could help out with the new Shiba-hime issue. Something about writing an introduction, yeah?" He smiled, glancing towards the head of the table, where Nase sat.

Our acting president nodded at her predecessor and popped her fourth sucker of the afternoon from her mouth. "That's right," she said, and it just struck me at how little she knew—and that was through no one's fault but my own. "Everyone, this is Kamiya Noriyaki-senpai; he'll be taking care of the anthology introduction for us."

"Oh, this is the senpai, huh?" Kanbara said, giving Kamiya an appraising glance. Considering that Kamiya hadn't made the fashion decision to wear glasses in the past few years, though, it was a rather short appraisal. That said, Kanbara still had on a genuine smile. "Thanks in advance, Kamiya-senpai. I hope Mitsuki didn't cause too much trouble when she came to bother you."

There was a sound very much like Nase crushing Kanbara's foot underneath the table. "What was that, Akihito?"

"We do appreciate it," Kuriyama-chan said, acting as if the comedy routine between our second years wasn't happening. She did, however, seem conflicted on whether she should stand up or not to bow, until, in the end, she settled for doing so in her seat. When she righted herself, she tilted her head, sending the soft waves of her hair to catch the light. "You and Sugiyama-senpai have met before, though?"

It was such an innocent question that I couldn't even fault her for it.

A bitter taste flooded my mouth.

I wanted to say a dismissive, He was a third year when I was in my first year, but that was still too open ended. What would I say when asked how we met; how could I explain why I'd quit the Literary Club before getting dragged back into it? How much of my side of the story would I even be willing to reveal? How much would Kamiya let me get out before mixing in his lies?

What the hell am I supposed to—

Inside my pocket, my phone buzzed.

I didn't have a lot of contacts. In fact, I didn't have any at all. For the most part, I kept my phone on hand for emergencies, and the person I called the most was my dad to let him know I was doing alright. Aside from my parents, the only people who had my number were the Literary Club members, and that was because Nase had forced me to share whenever we were setting up off-campus meeting plans. In other words, I shouldn't have been getting a call, but my phone kept buzzing away, insistent. Not wanting to miss it if an emergency was happening back home, I checked the screen, only for the call to stop the moment I did.

I did, however, have a fresh mail notification.

[If you need to step out for a bit, you can use this message as an excuse.]

"Sugiyama-san," Hiroomi said, his voice calm and measured despite the fact that he'd been the one to just call me, "is everything alright?"

An out.

I'd gathered most of the attention on me, but I looked to Hiroomi. He didn't let any of it show on his face, but I couldn't deny the message he'd sent me. So I gripped my phone tighter and shook my head. "Don't worry about it. My mom just tried to call me, though, so I guess I should check in with her." Far too hasty, I tossed my half-read anthology and my story notes into my bag, dodging around Kamiya with as wide a birth as possible as I headed to the door. "Sorry to dip out like this. I'll see you guys later!"

And with the door closed behind me, I bolted.

It was evening, and the sky was an unfair, soft orange through the windows. The school hadn't made the closing announcement yet, but most of the other cultural clubs had already packed up for the day. That meant I didn't attract much attention as I sprinted through the hallway for an escape, but I don't think I would have cared if I had.

I just wanted to get the hell away.

In the end, I wound up on the roof, and I collapsed against the side of the stairwell entryway, trying to urge some sort of calmness into the panic coursing through my veins.

"Who would've thought…Nase-kun's stupid fortunetelling would be right?"

A pathetic little laugh slipped between my lips, followed by a curse.

Catharsis

THIRTEENTH

I couldn't be serious if I tried

[Author's Notes]

One piping order of backstory ready to go.

Thanks to the Guest Valen Goncalvez, Dee dey, ShuLuo, and ashimitras01 for the favorites, follows, and reviews. Sorry this took so long to come out, but the posting schedule has been packed with all sorts of things. But I have brought you this new chapter on this fanfic's anniversary and Sugiyama's birthday, so I hope you enjoy!

Not a very happy chapter for the day, though. I've been scattering hints of this whole backstory throughout the past chapters. Did you find them?

Last year I ended up going ham on my Demon Slayer fic, which is getting consistent updates if you want something to tide you over while I work on making progress on this monster of a story here. That said, the next chapter is ready to go, and that will go up later this month for the usual holiday rush! Please look forward to it~.

-Avi

[12.17.2021]