fryknight: (the fire grows higher)
[personal profile] fryknight
Title: From Someone Else's Dream
Fandom: Aitsu no Daihonmei
Status: Complete.
Rating: T for language
Word Count: 2,625
Summary: As if their lives weren't screwy enough, but karma is as karma does.

“Have you heard–?”
“No way! Are you serious?”
“Hey guys, did know about–?”
And that was that. Rumors tend to spread like wildfire. One person hears something and then the seeds grow out of control.  They say though, there exists an ounce of truth in every lie, an ounce of truth in every rumor. But really, who has the time to prove anything? Who has time?

The school was in an uproar. Actually, to be more specific, the girls of the school were in an absolute frenzy as they often are. Patterns would show that during the middle of each month, there is a spike in this intensity.
But this time... It truly was off the charts.
Satou Takahiko was no where to be found. It’s normal for a student to miss a day of school. An angry hoard of girls doesn’t just develop overnight. Instead, this was something that grew bit by bit.
The first day he didn’t come to school, the girls plotted to bring him items to get him well, his homework, et cetera. Good will gestures masked under selfishness, as always. The plan failed because on that day, the girls realized that no one knew where he lived.
Whatever, they said, he’ll be back tomorrow.
Only he wasn’t. Or the next day, or the next. This went on for about two weeks.
And now, frenzied girls are storming the counseling office in an elaborate plan to steal the address of his residence off his documents.
Nishida was sitting on a bench outside looking up at the sun. He was finally taking a breather, a day to relax in seclusion. If he didn’t know anyone was in trouble did he have to help? Such a thought would never cross his mind. Coincidence would have an old man struggling to carry a rather large box enter his vision.
Like a knight in shining armor, Nishida promptly stood up to aid the frail old man carry the box to his destination. He also rescued a dog from a set of train tracks, helped several old ladies cross the road, rescued a baby from a burning building, and got a balloon down from a tree for a crying child. All in a day’s work really. It was nothing.
There was something in the very core of his being that wouldn’t let him refuse. He had to help people.
Subconsciously, it may be the only way he can confirm his own existence.
Makimura doesn’t have a lot of friends. He doesn’t realize that though. It’s okay because there’s a good few he can count on. Those bonds are the things that he needs, all people need. After all, what good is being popular if you don’t have those buddies who are there for you? He has those. Sometimes, the curly haired man gets lost in his fantasies of pursuing idols he can never hope to meet, at least, not by ranting and raving about it like a lunatic. His friends are the ones who are there when he’s rejected. His friends are the ones who are there to tell him his pursuits are ridiculous. But they are his friends regardless.
Makimura is a lucky man.
“Kasu~mi-chan~~~~! ♥♥♥”
Makimura is a lucky, womanless, man.
Two weeks before Satou disappeared, a conversation:
“It’s raining outside.”
“Oh? Will that be a problem?”
“It shouldn’t be. Let’s go.”
If you ever bothered to listen to you mother, you would believe that walking in the pouring without an umbrella is a surefire way to get sick.
Akimoto has always been a nice guy, nothing quite like Nishida, but a generally nice man overall. Being overweight, he’s had his fair share of bullying. Of course, he’s always had his childhood friend through thick and thin. A person like that can keep you sane, can keep you stable. Yuuko was that for him. She was his foundation.
He claims she’s just a friend.
She’s part of his world. She’s a very important friend.
Akimoto has other friends, and if asked, he would vehemently claim that they are just as important.
But she is special because she was first, because she has been there though the best of times and the worst of times.
Solid like a rock.
Yamanaka is trash.
He is no more useful than a rotting piece of Styrofoam. And even though he now walks the hallways in fear, he cannot hide his true colors.
There is monster lurking in the shadows.
He blinks and turns around. Fear has consumed this poor fellow. Putting that aside, there is still hope because he’s alive and, quite frankly, this too shall pass. Lately, he occupies his mind with nothing but thoughts of Torachin and thoughts of how to become a better person. Nothing drastic, just enough to erase the rumors, a victim of rumors. He doesn’t want to drag Torachin down to his level. He’s starting to realize there is more to life than just himself.
Regardless, he’s still a useless piece of trash, but even trash can be recycled.
Coming home on that rainy day to the sight of his parents sent him into a little bit of shock. His mother and father were sitting on the couch drinking tea, his baby brother sitting nearby playing with a ball.
He didn’t love them.
They were chattering amongst themselves. His presence silenced them.
Silenced their incessant noise.
His sister peeked her head out the kitchen to see the commotion. Oh. Her brother was home.
We’re rooming together by accident.
Even if he did outgrow those thoughts, sometimes, Satou still wanted to blow things up. Take away the bullies and the meaningless people who plagued the world. He always, no matter what scenario he conjured, wanted to start with his parents.
The ball rolled innocently across the floor. His little brother looked up at him and smiled.
Satou did nothing.
The Nozama twins were also outside on the day that Satou went home in the rain. They were drawing with the fierce intensity of a mob of angry bears. They should have been the first to notice really. Except they were so engrossed in drawing the scene before them, Satou walking in the rain that they couldn’t possibly have diverted their attention anywhere else.
It could have been raining literal cats and dogs and nothing could have broken their concentration.
The final product of their passionate dedication leaves a lot to be interpreted.
The Universe liked to play tricks on people. That much I’m certain of. Anything else is notwithstanding.
Satou went to sleep that rainy night in a bitter mood. All of it really was justified. What wasn’t warranted, however, was the taking of his little brother’s ball and popping in malice.  This one act was all that it took for some karma to arise from the depths of nothing.
Bad decision indeed.
There is one person that remains to be noticed. He too was walking in that rain.
Back to the girls for a moment.
The documents didn’t exist. After all that training, after hiring professional ninjas, and even after using a battering ram, this is what they find.
Actually, they found a note with one of those stupid prank faces on it scrawled in such a way just to piss them off.
The note is what set off the collective scream.
“This information is classified, ladies. Signed, the School Counselor.”
Someone had to know what was wrong with their beloved! Someone!
He was playing a Mario game. He would deliberately jump on the worthless Goomba just to see them shrink. The Koopas didn’t do it for him. Oh, look, a red mushroom from a block. Jump. Jump. Ah, another block. What’s in this one? A green dinosaur of sorts popped out, a Yoshi for Mario to ride.
Satou scratched his head and looked at the clock. He should go to school. What is he doing playing Mario games before going to school?
The day was bright and sunny as Satou walked to school. Alone, as always. He noticed a pudgy man on his walk, brooding. Upon on closer inspection, Satou noticed that he went to the same school as him.
Was he familiar?
And for some reason, he wanted to say hello to the man who stuck him as an idiot. So he did.
The man just looked up at him, taken aback, but something about him... was just... angry? Anger wasn’t the right word. Maybe it was sorrow? Depression.
“Oh, the great Satou-sama speaks to me!”
“Don’t you know me, it’s me Akimoto. I’m in your class. Not that you’d notice...”
Satou blinked a couple moments as if a small fog cleared. This was Akimoto? No, that can’t be right. Akimoto is a little more pathetic.
“Yeah, well, just leave me alone.” Akimoto walked hurriedly on away from the intruder.
Satou blinked. Something struck him as odd.
The gates to school seemed normal. Girls were swarming him at every angle. Annoying. The Nozama twins were standing at the gates. Disciplinary committee? That doesn’t seem right.
Both of them stood straight and rigid. As Satou entered the school, he noticed a couple of breath taking paintings in the entrance. The plaque under each had a respective Nozama twin credited as the author. Something was lacking, their eccentricity, maybe?
Satou shook his head; they were always like that though. Ah, maybe he still needs to wake up.
Satou sneezed. There was Makimura standing in the hallway, alone, lonely. And even though he looked lonely, there were a couple of girls near to him. Satou scrunched his nose. Something stinks.
Yamanaka (man how he hated that guy, but right now, he just couldn’t place the reason) was chatting it up with the ladies in the hallway. A real suave kind person. Trash was still trash. Can’t help, only this time, there was no redeeming feature in sight.
Why is he talking with people? Didn’t I take care of that?
As Satou walked to his classroom, something was becoming apparent. This isn’t normal. His brain was basically screaming that something is wrong. Another name floated to the front of his mind. Nishida. He face soured. A girl was standing nearby, as always, so he asked. “Where’s Nishida?”
The girl squeed in delight, after all, the great Satou was speaking to her. What she didn’t realize is that he wouldn’t remember her within the next three seconds. But before that, she answered his question with a grave face. “He killed himself in Junior High. You weren’t here so you wouldn’t know, but I’m surprised you knew him. Nishida and I went to school together, but you weren’t there.”
What. Satou stared dumbfounded. That doesn’t seem right at all. These people, these connections. They were all wrong. He spoke to the girl again, a thought drifted from the recesses again. “Wasn’t he a sickeningly nice guy?”
She raised an eyebrow. “What? No, of course not. He was part of the Yakuza.”
Satou started to walk away. None of this was right. He kept walking to his classroom. On this walk, he realized that he can’t remember anything. In fact, he doesn’t even remember waking up this morning. The earliest memory he has is playing Mario this morning.
What the fuck?
On top of that everything felt boring, menial even. Did everything always look so gray?
He opened the door to his classroom, and looked around. Y o s h i.
A giant explosion of one thousand light bulbs occurred in his head.
Where’s Yoshida Yoshio?
“Yoshida, where is he?”
Torachin cocked his head to the side. “Look Satou, I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
He raised his voice. “Didn’t you two go to middle school together?”
Torachin scratched his head. “Seriously man, I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
Satou punched the wall and walked away. Torachin was the last person he could ask. No one in his homeroom had a clue who he was talking about. Satou scratched his chin and walked to the counseling office. He was going to search for a record.
Only idiots catch a cold in the summer.
The counselor was a man, or maybe he was a she. Regardless, the counselor was certainly androgynous and smiled. Constantly. Every aspect of this person served to piss Satou off. But on an unrelated note, he wondered why the counselor wasn’t being swarmed by admirers of some type. He did a double take around the room checking for persons loitering.
No one.
“Ah, Satou, how can I help you?”
“I never introduced myself.”
“One can’t help but know who you are.”
Satou frowned. “I want the file on Yoshida Yoshio.”
The counselor tilted his head. “Who?”
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
The counselor shrugged. “I shit you not. That maliciousness is going to get you in trouble one of these days, I swear.”
Satou stared. “I need to find Yoshida.”
The counselor leaned forward and smirked. “What if I told you he didn’t exist? This whole world feels wrong, doesn’t it?”
Satou glared. “I could just kill you.”
“But you won’t, and I’m going to tell you why.”
Beep. Beep. The hand gripped tighter.
“You’re not awake.”
Satou shook his head. “Oh, so I’m dreaming. Then, I’ll wake up eventually.”
“Comatose. That maliciousness really is going to get you in trouble, didn’t I just say that? I mean, really, who does that to innocent child? Of course, there are worse crimes but I’m bored so...”
What. The. Fuck.
Satou was not amused. “So, then, what do I have to do? To wake up.”
“Ah, well. I think my game has served its purpose.”Remorse.
Satou saw nobody when he opened his eyes. He was groggy eyed and grumpy. He looked around and saw, conveniently, white walls. Go figure. A hospital of all places. His little brother was the only other being in the room. Satou scrunched his nose and got up off the bed holding on to it for support. He made his way to his sleeping brother and ruffled his hair, and then promptly went back to the hospital bed.
That was nice.
Being nice really would kill Satou though.
The Nozama twins knew about the school counselor, sort of. They saw him creeping in the most unsuspecting places much like they themselves did. They simply figured that he was just another artist like themselves.
When Satou finally returned to school, the girls sprung back to life. It seemed that they had been in mourning this whole time for their beloved. Satou could care less. There was only one irritating thing on his mind. Where was his boyfriend when he was in the hospital? Shouldn’t he have been there when he woke up?
Satou’s disgruntled features were unnoticed by the swarms of the girls who were thrilled just to be able to bask in his beauty once more.
Yoshida was in the classroom sitting looking annoyed. He took a glimpse at Satou come through the door and scoffed.
Taken aback, Satou walked over to him still irritated but confused.
“Where were you?” One asked the other as the other asked one.
Yoshida went first. “I have been sick with the flu for weeks and you never came by. Actually, no one came by.”
Satou frowned. “I’ve been in the hospital with a coma. And you didn’t come by.”
Yoshida sighed. “You win.”
And if their worlds were turned upside down, it would probably okay. There are no promises. None that I can make.
And the book closed.
Let’s take this back a couple of weeks.
“Hey, counselor, can I get a flu shot?”
“You sure can, Yoshida. You sure can


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October 2011

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