dishonorable

Nene struggles to speak, but Rindou can easily voice out her concerns, "Well that was a surprising turn of events."

Rindou turns to her underclassman, a rare small sad smile on her face. Of course, only Kobayashi Rindou herself can lighten anything serious. Humming, as if regretfully, she comments, "I think you should go to him. Hear his side of the story."

Nene steels herself, closing her eyes and breathing through her nose, before finally managing to croak out, "I've heard enough."

The red-haired woman eyes her contemplatively, nodding a bit to herself, and then relenting, "Okay, I understand that you must be feeling angry towards him—"

She's silenced with a glare. Rindou answers back with a challenging look of her own.

"Why are you insisting that I make up with him? He chose his own way and I chose mine. End of discussion," Nene seethes. She doesn't want to hear anything more. It's too complicated; most things these days are, and she has always been simple and traditional.

Rindou leaves a few minutes later and Nene has a sinking feeling that this is not the end of the discussion.

The harsh blow of the crisp autumn wind causes Nene's hair to dishevel. She, of course, frowns as she clutches the hardbound book across her chest. She dislikes cold weather—or anything cold actually, because it reminds her of a memory long ago, of a certain red-haired boy and his certain victory that left her suffering in her defeat.

In a few weeks time, she guesses mostly to herself, the entire greenery around her would turn into a rainbow of oranges, reds, and browns. She dislikes this also, because leaves that fall down create a mess on the ground and, God forbid, she cleans up anymore messes.

"Ah, Kinokuni-san," someone perks from behind.

The said person turns slowly, as if she cannot be bothered (which she cannot really, because she needs to go to her next class and this heathen is making her more late as it is). Nene sees a smaller woman in front of her with short fluffy brown hair and blossoming cheeks. She tries hard not to scowl, but she does anyway, "What do you need, Haruna?"

"I just, uh," Haruna stumbles, turning pink with each passing syllable. She continues with quick blinking eyes, "I wanted to invite you to my birthday party tonight. It's just a simple get-together in a nearby bar, you know? Are you, uh, free?"

Nene dislikes this as well. She doesn't like get-togethers or drinking or anything that involves her classmates outside academics. She prides herself for not being like the others: partying when there are no classes, sneaking out late in the night, or even drinking until they see only stars. Being here, alone, in a metropolitan city like Tokyo means more responsibilities. Nene likes to think that responsibilities molded her to be the woman that she is now.

"I don't want to," she answers automatically. As usual, her ruby eyes are stone cold, her chin jutted upwards, and her mouth pressed into a fine thin line. It startles Haruna for a moment, but Haruna, as Nene has figured out, is someone who considers everyone a friend. Therefore, every friend of hers absolutely deserves her help.

It doesn't surprise Nene when Haruna's not undeterred: "Oh, please, Kinokuni-san. For the past few days, you've looked so high-strung. You need to rewind a little; just this once!"

Nene shakes her head firmly, a bit speechless. Is her mood really that noticeable? She's usually so calm and composed—her own family cannot discern themselves if she is in a good or bad mood. Maybe all the events that happened this week broke her, but Nene likes to think that anything that's associated with him does not affect her.

Haruna pleads even more still, "Just come by okay? Even for a few minutes! I'll guarantee that you'll have a great time!"

"Haruna—"

"I'll pick you up after your last class!"

Nene feels a bit sick as the smaller woman drifts away; since when did she know Nene's schedule?

True to Haruna's words, she swings by a minute right after the bell rings.

Nene wants to roll her eyes but calmly walks along with her on the hallway. She settles for a scowl and a harsh comment (but isn't she always like that?), "I told you I didn't want to come."

"And I understand that," Haruna says, "What you don't understand is that I'm a very persuasive person. I tried not to bother you in all these months, but today I'm inclined to show you a good time."

A good time did not translate well to Nene. Drinking alcoholic beverages never appealed to Nene. Sprits, beer, or even sake were all just ingredients for her; she used it for her dishes, never for a 'good time.' All of her experience in drinking consists of a sip and then dowsing it on the boiling shellfish she bought during her time in Totsuki. Essence precedes existence, so does the bird sings.

"You don't have to do that," Nene replies, a frown etching on her usual stoic face. It wrinkles the perfect skin that she's prided herself for, messes up the contempt straight line her mouth has always stayed in. Maybe Haruna is right—Nene's losing her edge lately.

"I don't," Haruna agrees, "but I want to. So, let's go! My friends will be meeting us in the karaoke bar just down the street."

Nene glares at her and accuses, "You said it was a simple get-together."

"Well, yeah," Haruna hums, a awful glint in her eye and her mouth upturned to a simple smile, "but it's not a party without some karaoke!"

Goddamnit, Nene thinks to herself, it even rhymes.

Before the ashy green haired girl can even think about escaping, Nene feels Haruna latching her arms around her left firmly. Now, it's not to say Nene is not weak because she certainly can take of herself (she once was able to fight off a robber by applying what she was taught in Judo and quickly grabbing his arm and throwing him over her back), but it's the way Haruna's smile unsettles her, wrapping around her neck and telling her to please please come that Nene unfortunately relents.

She lets herself be dragged to the karaoke bar because apparently her dignity's already shredded to the point of that. It's a one-story building, mashed along the road with a neon pink sign and people flocking inside occasionally. The walls are made of glass, but it's stained so that no outsiders can see what's inside it. Nene can immediately tell that her night will not go as planned.

"I change my mind," Nene half-protests.

It falls onto deaf ears as Haruna quickly ushers her inside. The inside is worse than she imagined: glossy walls, linoleum walls, speakers that feel as if they're right next to her, and a huge gathering smack at the middle. Nene feels dizzy as they weave through the crowd, watching how, door after door, people are clamming in with giggles and hearty laughs. She's convinced she has entered the seventh circle of hell.

Her heart drops to her stomach as she sees a familiar orange wavy hair, but she refuses to look back to believe it's true. Instead, she focuses on Haruna and the way the smaller woman's eyes glint with horror. Nene realizes that focusing on the brown-haired woman is even worse.

They stumble into a well-lit room with cozy looking couches and a long wooden table in between. The table's already littered with half-empty bottles and buckets of ice water. She thinks she can smell cigarettes and another unexplained substance, but she doesn't want to dive right into that. There's a small group of people already inside, mostly girls with obvious intentions and boys with drunken eyes, and Nene's already itching to get away. Haruna's arm, however, stays planted on hers.

"Hey, this is Kinokuni-san; she's the one I was talking about," Haruna introduces. Nene narrows her eyes on her and she can already see the red flags waving frantically around inside this room.

"I don't think—" she quickly says, but she can feel another person's arm around her, breath heavy and stinking with liquor.

"She's really cute," the person comments. She turns her head and finds a bubbly pink haired girl, slurring at the last syllable and gripping on her shoulder tightly. Nene has the urge to gag and vomit, but she hasn't eaten since lunch and so she's not sure if she has anything in her stomach to throw at them.

Nene decides that this will be the last time she sees Haruna.

"Come, come," another girl pipes from the couch, "Plenty of drinks all around!"

She reluctantly sits down with the bubbly pink haired girl. Nene's glad the girl's already keeping her arms to herself. Haruna, meanwhile, sits just across from them, immediately chatting up the person that she's beside with.

"Hey, hey, drink with us," the same girl chimes, handing her a bottle of opened beer.

"Where the hell is the songbook?" another girl screeches from behind.

Nene is even dizzier than when she first entered. Everyone's talking all at once and, as the song on the machine starts, she can hardly feel her eardrums. It's suffocating, this type of situation, and she can only glare with such little intensity at the girl who keeps insisting for her to drink.

"Come on," she whines.

Nene shakes her head, tries to push her away, tries to get up from her seat, but there's already a clammy hand on her shoulder and it sends every scary chill she can possibly feel up to her spine. She needs to get out of here.

The girl pushes the drink to her lips and Nene barely misses, but a drop of it lands on her mouth and she can taste the bitterness of everything and that same everything just stops for a moment.

Right on the girl's lap, she vomits.

"Agh! You bitch!"

"Holy crap."

She feels someone pushing her put of the door, but she's too dizzy to care, too nauseous to actually understand what's happening. Nene regrets ever talking to Haruna, regrets how she lets her borrow a pencil, regrets not shutting her idea down completely this morning. She wonders briefly what they'll do to her; kick her? beat her? do every nasty little thing that happens to nasty little girls like her? But she can only feel the bile of grief and bitterness coming up her throat and then she refuses to think at all.

But something's happening, she thinks, she doesn't feel as if they're punching her. She feels nothing at all.

Soon, she blacks out and remembers nothing at all.

She dreams of cerulean eyes and strong hands that night, rubbing her shoulder and wrapping her hand. She dreams of a silent sea before the rain, with foggy gray skies and a shudder in the wind. She dreams of cold waters hitting her feet and unfulfilling sand between her fingers. It's dull and gray in her dreams tonight.

Nene opens her eyes as the sun settles on it.

She doesn't think for a moment as she stares up at the ceiling, and then it hits her all at once.

When she frantically sits up and looks around, Nene notices that she's in her bedroom. She checks her clothes and it's the same outfit she wore the day before. She checks the bag at the corner of her bed and it contains the same items she's sure she put there. Nothing's out of the ordinary, but she feels as if everything's changed.

She understands when she walks out of her room and finds him on her couch, reading a tattered book with an eerie silence in his eyes.

"What are you doing here, Isshiki?" she bites, but it's raspy and sickly and she wants to die with humiliation. She coughs to get the phlegm out but it doesn't go away.

He looks up from the book, cerulean eyes scanning hers, lips pressed into a thin line. He's hesitating speaking at all, but it's Nene and she's the only person he hates to anger. He puts down his book on the coffee table, Nene zeroing on his action before quickly focusing on him, and Satoshi replies gently, "I saw you at a karaoke bar yesterday."

She nods, swallowing but the phlegm doesn't go away. Nene points out, "It doesn't answer my question."

"Someone was about to slap you, but I stopped them. I took you to your apartment and tucked you into bed. I simply stayed here so I can make sure you're okay," he breathes, explaining so gently and so calmly that it feels as if he's simply lecturing her on what happened, not accounting the fact that he practically saved her life.

She breathes shakily and she's unraveling right now in front of him to see, but it's Satoshi and she's sure he's never cared.

"Why?"

He looks at her with such intensity that she regrets even asking.

"Let me pour you some tea," he replies instead.

She hates herself for agreeing, but he's the friendliest face she's seen all week despite the fact he's also the reason for her sorrow this past year. Still, she takes his offer and he gives her a small smile, barely lighting up his eyes, barely even shifting his face, but it's there and she hates how it's the most hopeful she's felt these past few months.

Maybe she just has low standards.

a/n: im so sorry you had to wait this long for such a short chapter. ill try to speed the next one. thanks for enjoying my work! see you on the next chapter!