🌸Cherry Blossom Palette🎨
🌸Chapter 57: Deposition, Part Two🎨
Written by EmtenDew
Edited by P. serrulata
Author's note:
ED: Naoto searches for Nagatoro and comes to a disheartening revelation. After this, we have just one more "Monday of finals week" chapter to go! Then we kick the door to summer break open!
This brings us to my South Park journey. I finished Season 16. Almost every episode crossed a well-established line for me. It was great!
Please look at the Q&A section I set up at the end of the chapter. Ask us anything, and we'll add another section in the next chapter. I would be happy if you ask questions.
Please enjoy what I wrote.
Monday, July 15, 2018
Okay… where is she…?
Naoto Hachioji gimped through the grounds of Kazehaya High School, looking for the girl who'd made him a gimp.
His foot had stopped hurting for a while, but it was acting up anew, every step taken unpleasant.
He'd asked himself the same question a few times already:
Why am I doing this again…?!
If it hadn't been for the push he'd been given, he'd probably still be hunkering underneath that ratty, little tree on the Cherry Blossom Path, brooding without direction.
Somehow, his friend, Sakura Inori, had convinced him that he needed to apologize to Hayase Nagatoro for losing his temper and telling her a few things she'd seemingly spent more than a year begging to hear.
If anything, flipping his lid was the ONLY thing she may have deserved an apology for, and that was a stretch…
He saw the reasoning in saying sorry, but he wasn't positive that it would do any good.
It's not like his other female friends, Maki Gamou, Yoshi Yamazaki, and Hana Sunomiya were going to forget what they'd seen and heard out of him.
Still, he'd gone.
Sakura had said that Yoshi and Hana would be fine, though Naoto wasn't as sure about Yoshi as he was Hana.
But he WAS sure that the gal could convince Yoshi of nearly anything, especially if it was true, and he meant it MOSTLY in the best way possible.
On the other hand, whether she'd "gotten it" or not, he'd gone off like that in front of Hana! His kohai of four years! The girl that he'd seen go from being a gangly elementary school kid, filling out to become a lovely, young woman, full of artistic drive and talent, which she attributed to HIM! The girl who turned out to be funny, a dear friend sitting right under his nose, far too long taken for granted, and a friend to HIS friends! The girl who surprised him every day with her growth and love and passion…
Though, above all, it was Gamo-chan whom he was worried about.
She'd really been hurt by this!
The burly girl had already seen a rough enough day.
Morning had seen her ridiculed over by Rabi-chan, in front of their homeroom classmates, and forced to immediately sit through an exam.
She'd had a very nasty exchange with Nagatoro—personal and vicious.
And to top it off, Naoto had screamed at her, blaming her for a good chunk of his misfortune.
What Rabi-chan had done was… PROBABLY totally uncalled for, though he didn't know anything past what he'd heard.
Right or wrong, people did things to each other, generally having some reason for it.
In that vein, Naoto struggled bigly to find any justification in humiliating a girl over maidenly, virginal things that were no one else's business but her own.
And the thing with Nagatoro was possibly just as ugly, if not worse! There was a smaller audience, but the girls were close friends and it was HIGHLY personal.
What's more, he needed to remember that Gamo-chan had more-or-less started that "climactic battle", throwing the bag of snacks he and Yoshi had been sharing in Nagatoro's face, screeching at and chasing her clambering friend across the floor, and trying to brain her with a box of tissues.
That said, nothing excused either of their behavior…
And him?
Gamo-chan had caused him some grief, but that was in the past, and he had no right, either way, to say what he'd said…
"…" Naoto paused, needing a few seconds.
He now had proof that he wasn't the only person to know Gamo-chan's "secret".
Sakura had found her sobbing, over recent events, in a stall in one of the girls' rooms, and she'd told him that this happened with some frequency.
Though, Gamo-chan had told him that herself, almost as plainly.
Lastly, Naoto needed to remember:
In front of him and the entire room present, Gamo-chan had told Nagatoro just how much she envied her… and in effect how much HE meant to the big girl herself…
Gamo-chan had just subjected herself to some pretty heavy mortification, or so it seemed, in praise of him.
…
He felt sick over how he'd treated Gamo-chan…
That outburst of his?
The only one who'd "deserved" that was Nagatoro… and he knew he wasn't infallible in this thinking.
Who was he to decide who was deserving or undeserving?
"…!"
Well, he was the one on the receiving end of that particular branch of Nagatoro's shittiness, and that had to mean something…
And he'd given it right back, at least, he viewed it as such.
…
He hated to admit it, but Sakura was right… He HAD to try to make this right.
Even if he couldn't make this right, he reasoned trying was better than doing nothing.
Gamo-chan was crying, Yoshi was blown away, Hana cared for her senpai, and Sakura was no dummy when it came to dealing with… interpersonal issues.
He COULDN'T do nothing!
So, he thought a bit harder about the places that Nagatoro might go.
He increased his pace, and every stride hurt.
…
Naoto located Nagatoro quickly enough, and he wasn't the least bit stunned, finding her where he did.
She was sitting on the back step of the martial arts hall, a place he'd seen her miserable and hating the world not all that long ago.
It was hard to forget the sight of her, reminiscing about how she'd rage-quit judo when she was beaten—once—by a… well, a retard, the term most commonly cited around school, when she'd gotten lazy and complacent in her own talent.
But he didn't care about Nagatoro's worries and failures and regrets… and he didn't care that she seemed to be bouncing back from the same.
He didn't even care about how she'd take his apology, not beyond how it might affect people that actually valued him… the girls he'd hurt… the girls he loved…
Taking in the view, Naoto got a good, hard look at the girl to whom he nocturnally dreamed of making sweet, condomless love twice or thrice a week.
She was looking pretty miserable, alright…
Her jaw slackened ever so slightly, her normally bright eyes, blank, stared vacantly at the ground before her, she sat like a statue.
Naoto, surprising himself, had come in with no preconceived notions as to her condition, upon tracking her down. He hadn't considered the possibilities, really, at all.
For all he knew, he might've found her bitterly crying her tear-ducts dry or angrily knocking around a punching bag or forlornly dipping her feet into the pool or frenziedly overdosing on sleeping pills in the bathroom stall next to Gamo-chan's.
But so it was, he'd thankfully found her in the second spot he'd thought to look.
It was time to try and talk to her.
He had the intense sensation of déjà vu, though convincing Gamo-chan not to run away from him on Wednesday didn't compare the best.
Mainly, it was that he'd needed to convince the Maki to listen to him…
To do that, he needed to prove to her that he "came in peace", hence why he'd shown her his raised palms, spoke softly, and moved like a tortoise.
However, something told him that wouldn't be enough.
Nagatoro hadn't noticed him, and he was able to get within five meters, though he dared not try further.
It might've been a MIRACLE that she hadn't noticed him, but she wasn't all there.
He ran through his head what he thought to do.
Swallowing his pride was necessary for what he was about to do, except he'd never been overly rife with that vice to begin with…
He dallied, but…
"…!"
… … …
Taking in what he saw up closer didn't leave him unmoved, Nagatoro forlorn and lifeless.
"…!"
He was angry… He was…!
But he was more upset than anything… He was sad… and he knew that she was too.
He knew there was a better way to deal with this mess than screaming at her.
He'd told himself he was doing this for the girls… but… it was also for himself.
He cared about Nagatoro—he loved her—and he didn't want to leave things like this! What they had was worth a lot more to him than his hurt feelings!
She'd hurt him, but HE'D DONE THE SAME!
And hurting Nagatoro was one of those ultimate bad things in life!
…
Was it fucked up that Sakura had tried putting him on this path? That he should apologize, even if it was a bald-faced lie?
Maybe it was fucked up… no matter how right she might've been at the end of the day, and he wasn't so sure of that anymore…
Was Sakura's thinking just pure-and-simple batshit crazy?
Maybe it was.
Was he an idiot for going along with this?
Maybe he was…
But it didn't change what he felt of his own volition, there and before Nagatoro:
He wanted to do this… He needed to make amends…
She was his friend, and things had decidedly gone very poorly for EVERYONE…
A lot of bad things were said by more than one person, and it had just been a really bad time!
He wasn't doing this because Sakura had told him to.
His whole being told him that he was making the right decision.
She'd sent him on this path, but he was CHOOSING to make good!
Since his pride was readily digestible, it was easy to suck it down, so he went to his knees, facing her and taking seiza.
It REALLY hurt his injured foot to do this, but he'd been through worse.
Putting his hands before his knees, bowing slightly, Naoto took a breath. Here goes…
…
"Nagatoro…" he said softly.
The slouching girl gave no response—zero. "…"
"…"
"…"
Steeling himself, Naoto recited a little prayer and gave it a little more volume, "Nagatoro."
This time, she registered, and he saw the spark in her eyes as she "came to".
And she recognized that someone was in front of her, a fogginess about her.
Whether she straightaway realized it was him or not, Naoto breathed in and blew out, trying to keep a level head.
"Nagatoro, it's me…" he stated. "It's Naoto…"
It was now clear and very obvious that she knew who he was, and he could see her tensing up, her back straightening.
The way she looked at him…!
He'd seen the same expression in those stupid horror movies he hated so much… the look of someone menaced by some awful thing beyond explanation.
Her lips parted, and her eyes bugged slightly, her hands balled-up and retreating to her core. "…!"
She was going to bolt on him!
Naoto couldn't let this happen.
He gulped, bowing slightly, so all he could see was below her waist; he pleaded, "Please… Please… don't run…"
Unlike Sakura and himself, she had bothered changing into her street shoes. He couldn't see her face, but he saw the tendons of her feet, between her shoe-uppers and ankles, bunching up.
There was no way that she wasn't going to run away…!
Against this seeming certainty, Naoto tried.
"Please…" he entreated. "Please, I really need to talk to you, Nagatoro…"
Taking a chance on looking at something north of her knees, he got another glimpse of her face.
There was that same "internal struggle" going on! What he'd seen earlier! Fight, flight, posture, submit!
She hadn't run yet, but it was a sure thing she'd be doing one of those four, not that he was actively churning all this about his brain.
Naoto just needed to keep her there—even for a moment! If he could do that…
He begged, "Even if you don't wanna talk, please just listen…"
But it seemed Nagatoro had made up her mind, finally meeting his eyes.
Soon, her mouth settled, and she took up an unpleasant scowl, her brow furrowing.
Uh-oh… Naoto knew what this meant.
He didn't have a moment! He'd seen this more than once.
"Nagatoro, please listen to me…" He wasn't about to quit.
Her narrowing eyes never leaving him, she crept to one edge of the concrete step, scowling all the more at him. "…!"
"Please, Nagatoro…" was all he had to give. "Please… I'm—"
With a pout and a great frown pasted on, Nagatoro sprang to her feet and ran.
He watched her hightail it deeper into the school's grounds.
"Fuck…!" he cussed, knowing that he was in for some exercise.
…
…
…
Naoto was giving chase, and he somehow was managing to keep her in sight.
He knew that she'd run away the second she grimaced at him. She'd pulled this same thing the year before, after she'd walked in on the Prez and himself discussing the school festival.
Immediately after, he'd approached her, and she'd called him a creep in front of some girls for no reason. That was the grimace he'd just seen again!
He'd chased her alright! She'd nonsensically led and taunted him until she'd cornered herself.
That happened to be the first spot he'd checked that day, trying to find her after his outburst! It wasn't the "shame corner", but it was a similar sort of place.
He recalled her absurdly climbing the tree back there once she'd found the only available door to be locked.
I want you… to be my model!
He'd been quite plain.
Why don't you just ask the president to do it for you?
And her behavior had not made a fucking bit of sense to him! Still didn't!
Just go ahead, and paint her! Make a dirty painting of the president!
Back in the fall, that upset him. Now he just felt angry about it.
You have no idea what you're talking about, Goddamn you…! How could you be stupid enough to think that's what I want?!
But somehow, he'd managed to convince her that he wanted her to model for him.
And it had turned out well!
For better or worse, but probably worse, this was a whole other state of affairs.
…
…
…
Naoto kept on Nagataro as she looped around the back entrance of the school's main building.
He'd lost her for a moment, but he'd found her again!
His foot hurt so badly, and he found that thinking about something else was the only distraction from it.
He knew she'd been upset about walking in on the Prez and himself that day, months ago, but nothing had happened!
And he COULDN'T understand why she doubted that he wanted to work with her! He'd already fucking told her! There was no reason for her to think otherwise! He'd given her nothing to think that! Whatever it was, it had been HER fault, jumping to conclusions.
Now, she was running again, though he could at least understand her reasoning; he'd screamed at her.
But…
How bad was what he'd just done? It wasn't like anything he'd just said to Nagatoro wasn't untrue!
Was it comparable to her walking in on him when the Prez was clad in only a bath towel?
No, it wasn't! He'd actually done something wrong this time!
Still…
Did he even NEED to apologize to Nagatoro?
He tried his own logic.
Maybe he should just apologize to Gamo-chan… She was the one actually hurt here. But how would he get her out of the bathroom without raising a stink? Call her? Message her? There had to be something!
And Sakura seemed to be capable of corralling Yoshi and Hana. Otherwise, why'd she say that they'd be "okay"?
Be that as it may, logic took a backseat to what he was crying out in his own heart.
What have I done?! WHAT HAVE I DONE?!
He could tell that Nagatoro was serious this time.
Last year, she'd taunted him the ENTIRE time he'd chased her!
This time, she was just running… no-nonsense running.
And this pursuit made the last one look a like a foot-race in a straight line! She'd led him through half of the property by now!
Becoming more desperate, he called out to her, his breathing ragged, "Nagatoro, please!"
He could barely see her! He had no idea if she'd heard him…
But still, he yelled, "Nagatoro! Stop!"
…
…
…
It beggared the imagination how he was keeping her in his sights! Especially when he was limping the whole way!
He might've chalked it up to his superior knowledge of the grounds.
Even if she disappeared somewhere, he had a pretty good idea of where her route came out again!
If he could corner her again—or if she cornered herself—then he'd be able to talk to her.
She wouldn't be able to escape, and he could get on his knees and beg her forgiveness!
He was mad, yes, but he was just upset!
He didn't want to lose her!
He'd thought and said some awful things that he didn't mean!
She hates me, Sakura-san.
And I'm sick of her…
He'd been wrong! He'd been so, so wrong!
He had a reason for doing this! For chasing her!
The Prez had told him that art was about chasing after something.
"…" What was his something?
It was the same as EVERYONE'S something:
MEANING!
Nagatoro had given him a lot of meaning, and meaning was worth pursuing.
Nagatoro was worth pursuing.
"Please!" he called out to her back. "Please, Nagatoro, stop!"
…
…
…
Yowch!
Naoto realized something, crashing through a short hedge of roses that Nagatoro had easily vaulted.
He was afraid he couldn't fix this.
He knew it!
He'd messed up so badly that there was no going back!
When he began to pursue her, it was pretty much the same as back in the fall. But while he'd been worried about catching her that time, the stakes now seemed higher.
He was afraid this time that he'd never see her again.
If he lost sight of her… if she truly escaped him…
He'd never see her again…
And there was a real danger of that happening as they approached a row of outbuildings.
No, no, no, no, no, no! His eyes followed her weaving into the space between the old pottery kiln and the trash-burner.
If she got in there, there were, like, FIVE directions she could go! If he lost here there…!
"Nagatoro!" he may have been shouting in vain.
Praying and running on a foot that had gone partially numb again, he rounded the corner.
There she was!
And she was… walking?
But her eye caught him from over her shoulder, and she took off, hugging the side of a shed full of yard-tools.
At least he still had her!
He couldn't blame her for pausing.
If she'd gone the other way, she WOULD'VE been cornered!
But every student knew about that dead-end! They all had trash duty on occasion!
…
…
…
Back within sight of the martial arts studio, back where they'd started this, Naoto watched Nagatoro go around one side of the building.
Do I try it?! He knew that unless she turned around, she'd wind up circling right back to where he was standing.
During finals week, the building was locked from the inside, so there was no way she'd be able to cut through the building.
I'll do it! If she didn't turn around, he'd run into her if he took the opposite side of the building. You're not getting away!
He'd finally catch her!
But he only made another stride, when he felt something pop in his injured foot, leaving him on one leg, like a racehorse with a busted cannon bone.
Shit! Losing his balance, he bit the ground hard, and he saw stars.
…
… …
… … …
Damn it… Rolling to his side, his palms were scraped, and his hands tingled from the impact.
He'd rung his bell pretty good too!
Everything hurt!
"Oh…" he moaned, coughing and wheezing.
Wheezing all the more, he came to sitting.
Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Naoto punched the ground.
However, by this time, Nagatoro had orbited the building, reappearing just where he thought she would.
"Nagatoro!" he attempted, physically reaching out towards her. "C'mon, please!"
"…!" She skidded to a halt, seeing him there, and took off towards the main building.
You almost had here, you fuck! Naoto cursed himself and his worthless foot, but he made it back to kneeling and then to standing.
He wasn't done yet!
…
… …
… … …
… …
…
He was beat! Through!
Tears of frustration obscured Naoto's vision, and he stifled a hopeless sob, Nagatoro's blurry figure ducking out of sight, some 15 meters ahead.
He was done!
Panting for air, Naoto stumbled, slowing to a walk, which didn't do a thing to help with the pain he was experiencing over his entire body.
Finally, he just quit moving. I can't do this anymore!
Half-sitting/half-collapsing, he went to the ground, and he couldn't hold back the sob anymore.
Please! Stop! He cried, hot tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. I'm sorry…!
He was able to keep it to a couple weepy gasps, but only just.
I can't do this… He coughed, almost to the point of gagging.
"Please… just… talk to me!" he hollered. "I can't… run anymore!"
He was alone, wrought on the ground, only shy of the gymnasium.
"Nagatoro, I'm sorry!" he finally said aloud the words that he'd set out to say; there was no reason to hold them back anymore. "Please talk to me!"
There was nothing.
"Please…" He hung his head.
…
"…!" Something caught Naoto's eye!
He looked up quickly.
Nagatoro! There she was!
He saw her!
She was peeking around a corner at him!
"Nagatoro!" He still had her!
She realized that he'd detected her, and she ducked back out of sight.
"Nagatoro~!" Naoto, winded, got onto three limbs and went on moving.
It wasn't over!
She broke cover and made it to another.
"I can see you!" He could. "Talk to me!"
Her shoulder was all he could see of her, and she tucked in a little more.
But he could still see her!
Needing to regain his footing, he'd stopped again, but all he had to do was lean slightly.
And there she was, only a sliver of her face and shoulder visible!
She was…
She was watching him…
"…?" He peered at this oddity, his eyes still wet. What is she…?
She must've noticed him—again—because upon peeking out, she disappeared, only to reappear another building down.
And she was still eyeballing him!
In this instance, she was espying him through a gap in the wood fence.
On the face of it, she though herself out of sight…
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…!
"No…" Naoto mouthed, falling to his elbow. It couldn't be…
…
… …
… … …
How could he be so stupid?!
…
It dawned on him, the realization creeping into his brain like a fast-acting poison.
… … …
… …
…
What on Earth was he doing?!
Q&A Section
You have said a couple times you try to not often use profanity outside of your story, like in discussions and chapter intros, but you have a couple times when you had a strong opinion. You definitely have no problem with harsh language in the story itself. I'm not accusing or anything, I'm just curious about your logic behind this.
ED: I have no problem with answering this question, and it's a fair one. I was raised to have a spotlessly clean mouth and to keep it clean in relations with other people. My parents were strict about it, and they weren't afraid to use the soap. They didn't even want us to use the world "fart". We said "foof".
I have used profanity a few times outside of the story to make a point. Sometimes there is a point to using profanity, but only when it's used sparingly and in "correct" situations.
General George S. Patton used it to great success, so it's said.
The profanity, crudeness, cynicism, and borderline nihilism in the story is meant to provide a highly casual, open and relaxed feel in the story. It's something I never considered before working with my editor. I tend to agree now. He believes that candidness, frankness, and a touch of not giving a fu** are keys to immersion. It works best when it's not forced. I know I've talked about "locker room" talk and how natural it is. "Write smart, but don't shy away from the least common denominator."
I think a lot of it is not caring about political correctness. I'm too young for it, but PS was a child of the 1990's and describes himself as such. There's a difference between being politically incorrect and not worrying about political correctness. He told me that was what it was to be a child of the '90's. This may have been just his own experience, but I think I see what he means.
This seems to be how he thinks, acts, and lives. I've met him, so I've seen and heard him in action. Things were different when the internet was young.
Please look forward to the next chapter! Thanks for reading! Questions and comments are welcome!