#dayfive

[yansimstorythatiwillnotworkon]

#10

Friday

__

Almost every student came to the funeral, but additionally, no one bothered to count heads. Some students came, some didn’t. One of the more noticeable absences were Shoku who had stayed home, along with Geiju. Amai’s parents were likely planning a separate funeral somewhere more meaningful. Outside of Shoku, the rest of the Cooking Club attended, all with their own amount of grief.

Ajia refused to speak to anyone, and stayed near the back with her parents. Seiyo’s sister accompanied him, his own parents nowhere to be seen. He didn’t have many friends outside of the club, but Fureddo did come over to talk to him, which he likely appreciated. Kenko was here alone, but was surrounded by his classmates and peers, clearly attempting to steady his own mind after the incident. Despite his willingness to converse with his peers, he was still quiet and only gave short responses.

“Ayano.” Scilla called out softly, looking anxious as usual, but not entirely remorseful as the others looked.

Ayano turned to look at him, attempting to mock the dread on her peers’ faces, but likely only looking unsettled. Which he was. Hopefully this next weekend will give her time to properly calm down. “Scilla.”

“Hi.” Scilla clears his throat awkwardly. “I-I didn’t know that the cut was that deep.” He says. When Ayano doesn’t respond immediately, he haphazardly shoves his hand into his pocket. It looked to be a small, scuffed wallet, and was packed with a couple hundred dollars, it seemed.

Before reaching a hand out to grab it, Ayano lifts an eyebrow at Scilla, as if asking what exactly it was for. He didn’t seem like he could, but this could be some sort of bribe. With a nervous laugh, he says, “For like- h-hospital bills and stuff. Ahem. I know that they’re super expensive..”

Ayano pauses in thought, wondering if he was lying, before remembering that he did only recently move to Japan. “Universal Health Care covers my injuries.” She says, folding her arms. “I’ll go if it gets any worse.”

“Oh… Oh, yeah..” Scilla nods, his face red in embarrassment as he seems to recall that fact. “Sorry, I forgot. I went to the hospital pretty often in the US so…” He stops, realizing that Ayano probably didn’t care for the reason.

As Scilla stands awkwardly stiff and avoids Ayano’s gaze, she decides to speak up. “You don’t seem too upset about the current… event.” She says, looking back to the stage, which had the preparations hidden behind the giant curtain.

“I-I didn’t really know Amai that well.” Scilla quickly explains, lightly scratching the wallet in his hand. “...It’s sad that… that she passed, I know that. That’s why I’m here, to pay respects, and..” He clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “...I’m just trying to let people know that I’m sad she’s gone, too. I don’t have the… the best reputation, after all.”

“Sounds like you’re using Amai’s death to try to make yourself look better.” Ayano says, folding her arms with a judgemental look.

Immediately hunching his back over in shame, Scilla hangs his head, looking guilty. “Don’t s… Don’t say it like that, Ayano..” Despite his visual attempts to defend himself, he only ends up deflating. Rather than saying anything, he shoves the wallet into Ayano’s hands. “J-Just take this as an apology for the injury.” He says quickly, before quickly walking off.

Some might feel compelled to bring the money back, ‘It’s your money, and you’ve already apologized.’ But from how Ayano sees it, that’s a couple hundred less cash she has to worry about. She quickly pockets the wallet and looks around the gymnasium. The ceremony had yet to start, and so far students just mingled and mourned in the darkest wear they could find, if not black.

As Ayano looks around, she suddenly spots Kokona sitting down by herself, her gaze stuck on her phone. Not Riku or any of her friends seemed to be around, so Ayano assumed that this was because she asked to be alone. Of course, Kokona didn’t know that Ayano knew that, so approaching her would be an innocent act in her eyes. Checking up on her would be an ever more beneficial act to show how much Ayano “cared”.

“Hi, Kokona.” Ayano greets, unintentionally shocking the girl. Before Kokona abruptly turned off her phone with a sad smile, Ayano spotted that she was texting someone. She gives Kokona a sympathetic look and speaks in a soft tone as she continues. “You seem distracted. Is there anything wrong?”

Kokona opens her mouth to respond, and ends up letting out a tearful laugh as she looks back down to her shut off phone. “I-I really wish I was better at lying at times like these.” She inhales sharply as Ayano pats her on the back and exhales shakily. “I’m just… This week turned out to be such a disaster so quickly. I-I’m just not sure what to do with myself right now.”

“Take your time.” Ayano says quietly, rubbing Kokona’s back. “I’ll wait.”

After a moment of a few deep breaths and blinking rapidly, Kokona speaks up. “Riku couldn’t come today- or more precisely his parents wouldn’t let him come and they haven’t told either of us why, yet. I could not stop crying earlier so I sat over here to calm down, and- and then I decided to ask Saki’s parents about her and- and they just–” Kokona sucks in another deep breath and just hands Ayano the phone.

The conversation between Kokona and Saki’s mother was nothing short of cruel. It could likely be excused as dread on Saki’s mother’s part, but that didn’t entirely excuse the things she was saying to Kokona. The conversation starts ten minutes ago with:

You: I’m at the funeral right now. Have you still not heard from Saki?

Mrs. Miyu: If I had I wouldn’t tell you, Haruka.

Mrs. Miyu: I don’t know why you keep messaging me.

You: I’m just worried about Saki.

You: She’s my best friend.

You: She hasn’t contacted me either.

Mrs. Miyu: And she shouldn’t.

Mrs. Miyu: If Saki wasn’t so adamant on following you to that wretched school, none of this would have happened.

You: I know you’re upset, Mrs. Miyu, but Saki made that choice on her own. I couldn’t have told her what to and not to do in that situation.

Mrs. Miyu: Chinatsu shouldn’t have bothered trying to get to know you or your blasted father.

Mrs. Miyu: You’re just like that old wreck.

You: My father hasn’t done anything wrong!

Mrs. Miyu: Except influence you to influence my daughter.

Mrs. Miyu: If you weren’t so “supportive” of her, she would have changed that addiction of hers and wouldn’t have been so susceptible to that girl’s death.

Mrs. Miyu: I guess in the end it’s my fault for allowing all of this to happen.

You: It isn’t an addiction, she just likes sweets!

You: And she’s been trying her best to change her habits. I think she’s doing very well.

You: It’s just that you and others around her are pressuring her to do so at the same time and it’s stressing her out.

Mrs. Miyu: Are you questioning my parenting?

You: I think if everyone was a bit more gentle on her

You: No! Not at all!

Mrs. Miyu: Saki was always so rebellious when it had anything to do with you.

Mrs. Miyu: Constantly sneaking out to watch your “dates” and buying you things with MY money.

Mrs. Miyu: You oughta be ashamed of yourself!

You: I’m sorry.

Mrs. Miyu: Nothing good ever comes from Saki whenever it has something to do with you.

You: I’m sorry

Mrs. Miyu: If anything, YOU are the most suspicious person to me since YOU seem to have SO MUCH control over her actions!

You: I promise I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Saki

You: I’m so, so sorry

You: Just please don’t talk about her as if she’s already gone

<This number has blocked you. Any further messages will not be sent unless you are unblocked.>

“Kokona, that’s…” Ayano starts, but stops immediately upon seeing Kokona with her knees pulled up to her face, refusing to look up at her.

Kokona sniffs into her dress, her voice shaky and muffled because of the fabric. “Nothing is going right, Ayano. I wish- god, I just wish that none of this had happened. Everything went so horribly in less than an hour, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it..”

It was normal for Kokona to react this way about this whole situation. Ayano just didn’t know what to say about it. Her plan of seeming like a great person backfired as soon as Kokona began crying. She’s never cried, so her mother never needed to comfort her. What would her mother have done in this situation?

“I wish Riku were here. I wish Saki were here.” Kokona pauses, before muttering quietly. “I wish my mom were here…”

Ayano’s mother never comforted Ayano. But whenever she was comforting others, she would often offer a hug. An embrace in hopes of making the other party feel better. That would have to work for now.

Silently, Ayano wrapped her arms around Kokona’s form, which seemed smaller, almost more child-like now that she had hunched herself up. As soon as she did, Kokona leaned her head into the crook of Ayano’s neck and sobbed quietly. Thankfully, there were already other tearful parties littered in and outside of the gymnasium, so Kokona’s breakdown didn’t drag over any attention.

After a couple of minutes of crying and then silence, Kokona leans back and wipes her eyes. “Thank you, Ayano. I’m glad that you’re here, at least.” She says, standing up with her small purse in hand. “I… I probably screwed up my make up, right? I’m going to the bathroom..” She sniffs, slowly shuffling out of the gymnasium.

Ayano’s own dress was now wet with tears on her shoulder, but others probably wouldn’t notice. She didn’t stand up, and instead stared at the phone that Kokona left behind. After staring at it for a moment, she gets a text from her own phone.

Info-Chan: Extra info points if you download me onto this phone as well ;D

That’s really all Ayano needed to see to stand up and stuff the phone into her own bag. She begins walking to the gymnasium door. Before she can leave, however, Kenko appears at the doorway, about to walk through as well. “Oh, Ayano.” He blinks, a bit surprised, but he almost looks relieved to see her. “Hi. How are you feeling?”

Internally, Ayano almost feels drained by all of the mentions about Amai. She was already dead, and Ayano didn’t want to think about her anymore. Of course, it would be foolish of her to think that everyone would be discussing their favorite books at a funeral dedicated to Amai.

“..I don’t think I’ve come to terms with it just yet.” Ayano claims, folding her arms and looking away. “I feel like… all of it just… hasn’t caught up to me yet. I dread when it does, though.”

Kenko sighs, frowning sympathetically to Ayano. “I understand how you feel. This was an event that… no one saw coming.” He tugs at his sleeve and fixes up the tie of his suit. “Shock or not, you seem to be taking this well, Ayano. I’m glad to see that others aren’t too… lost in sorrow despite the events. We might need more calm people like you around.”

Ayano gives a small smile. “Well, don’t say that.. I’m more concerned that you haven’t shed a tear yet.” She says, tilting her head to the side.

“I have. Of course, I have, just… not here.” Kenko says, folding his arms as well. “Me breaking down here would only serve to make others run to me instead of focusing on the matter at hand.” He nods to the stage curtain. “I’m of course not saying that anyone crying is looking for attention. But… I just feel like that’s all I can do for Amai right now.”

He pauses for a second before adding. “..Shoku is the only one who’s invited to Amai’s proper funeral out of everyone in the club.” Kenko pulls out a small picture out of his breast pocket with a frown. “It’s not my right to be upset about that choice. Shoku was closest to her and… it’s her parents’ wish. I won’t try to convince them otherwise, but… I wish I had a chance to apologize to Amai.”

Before Ayano can respond, Ajia suddenly runs past the two, and Seiyo quickly walks after her. Kenko grabs his arm and gives him a stern look. “Seiyo..” He sighs, “I know you don’t mean any harm, but if you get punched, it’s not her fault.”

Seiyo frowns and nods. “I’m… prepared for that.” He says, walking off again as soon as Kenko lets him go.

After Kenko sighs, Ayano speaks up about their topic before they were briefly interrupted.  “You didn’t do anything wrong, Kenko.” She says, patting his arm in an attempt to be comforting.

The gesture seems to work to an extent, as Kenko smiles at her, but not for long. “I know. I did my best ever since she came back. I made sure to. Everyone in the club knows that, and I know she knew that, too.”

Kenko closes his eyes and exhales, raising his hand up not to his tie, but to his neck, rubbing the front of it with an almost distressed expression. “I guess I want to apologize for… for not noticing what she was going through, maybe. Not everyone can talk about their struggles. The line between that resulting from cowardice or bravery is very blurry, but I believe that that makes Amai very strong. I’m… sorry for not being as helpful as I thought I was being. Every one of my efforts this week seems like it meant nothing now that she’s gone.”

Ayano pauses for a moment. Unlike the others, Kenko doesn’t seem like he doubts that he was the best he could have been during Amai’s return. Naturally, this doesn’t leave him without some form of… regret? Ayano wasn’t sure. She never could be. She sighs silently and removes Kenko’s hand from his neck, instead cupping it inside of her own hands. “I know you don’t need to hear this, but I’m sure Amai was thankful as well. I didn’t know her as well as you and the others did, and I wish I had the time to, but… I feel like if Amai had any lingering expectations for anyone, you wouldn’t be one of the options.”

Ayano squeezes Kenko’s hand a bit, and he responds with a genuine smile. “I agree… I think.. Heh.” He shakes his head at himself with a light chuckle. “You’re very sweet to help make me feel better, Ayano. We haven’t interacted much, but I appreciate your kindness. And your help a couple days ago. I hope that after this incident I can get to know you better.” He says.

Nodding to her thank you, Kenko continues past her in order to speak to one of their other mourning peers. Ayano watches him leave for a quick second, at the very least so it didn’t look like she was desperate to leave to others. After that quick second she did indeed walk back to the school.

Thankfully, there were no rules against going through the school halls, even grabbing some stuff if anything was left after the rush on Wednesday. The only thing off-limits was the roof until the tall fence was finished being built.

Similar to the process with Mai, Ayano was able to easily put Info-Chan’s functions into Kokona’s phone. As she was walking out, however, she bumped into one of her peers. Who, as it turns out, was not mourning with the rest of them.

“Oh, hey.” Bea lifts an eyebrow Ayano’s way, before glancing behind her to the rows of computers. “What’re you doing in here?” She asks, looking back at Ayano nonchalantly.

Ayano shakes her head dismissively. “Just needed some time alone.” She says, nodding to the room. “I usually sit in here when I need that time.”

“Hm.” Bea folds her arms with an almost suspicious grin. “Yeah, well, it’s an awfully strange place to mourn. But to each their own, I guess.” She looks down to Ayano’s hand, which was still holding Kokona’s phone. “Ain’t that Kokona’s?”

Looking at the phone in question, Ayano realizes just how easily identifiable the phone was as Kokona’s. She was one of the few who added charms and customized her phone, and her style was very recognizable. Flowers and baked goods stickers and such. “...yes. Kokona left it with me and I forgot to bring it back.”

The reasoning seemed believable enough, as Bea simply shrugged at her response. Before Ayano can excuse herself, however, Bea holds out her hand. “You can keep chilling in here, then, I guess. I’ll take this back to Kokona for you.”

While originally suspicious of Bea, Ayano realized that keeping the phone to herself could be ruled as suspicious in her own right. If anything, playing the “too sad to do it myself” card might be beneficial for Ayano to some extent.

With that thought, Ayano nodded and handed her the phone. “Okay. Thanks.” She says. Bea nods in response and heads back down stairs in order to look for Kokona. For a moment, Ayano will likely have to sit in the computer lab so that her story actually sticks together.

So, Ayano grabs one of the chairs and sits down on it. As soon as she does, she gets an immediate text from Info-Chan.

Info-Chan: Did you do the full process?

Yan-Chan: What?

Info-Chan: Did you complete the hacking process?

Yan-Chan: Yes. I did exactly what you told me to last time.

Yan-Chan: Didn’t you gain access?

Info-Chan: For a moment.

Info-Chan: But Kokona Haruka is no longer on my records of access.

Yan-Chan: I already finished.

Yan-Chan: I should still get my pay.

Info-Chan: Very funny.

Info-Chan: No access, no pay.

Ayano scoffs, standing up and walking back out of the room despite her earlier judgment. She wasn’t sure how much time she had left before the funeral officially started, but she figured that she should use whatever time she had either finding another phone or doing some other task.

That’s when she ran into someone for- who knows how many times by now. Based on the sudden shove Ayano was awarded with, she would have assumed that it was from a student council member she ran into, but it wasn’t. It was a shorter student with long black hair, who wasn’t actually wearing anything dark to support the event, but instead just a variant of the regular school uniform.

The girl glared at Ayano after her firm shove and briskly walked past her, looking left and right as if in search of something. Ayano held a hand to her stomach. Frankly, not even Aoi had given her such a needlessly violent shove- if Ayano were to be dramatic, she’d even call it some form of punch.

“So, you’ve met her.” A voice said in a quiet tone. Turning, Ayano realized that it was Frankie, who stayed to the side until the black-haired girl turned the corner. “Lori, I mean.”

Ayano frowns with a nod. Thinking back, Lori’s appearance and the description Frankie, Hana and Cassie gave matched incredibly well. Short, black haired, clearly very antisocial if not just outright violent. “I guess so.” Ayano says, looking back down the hall to where Lori just left. “Is she looking for you?”

“Yeah. Well, I mean, probably.” Frankie says with a shrug. She barely out of breath, as if she’d been running from Lori this entire event. “I went to the girls’ room to wash up and she was just- waiting there! I think there might actually be a dent in one of the lockers right now from the punch she tried to land on me.”

With an uncomfortable expression, Ayano patted her stomach where Lori had shoved her. “I… can’t imagine what it must be like being actively beaten by her.” Realistically, Ayano didn’t feel much concern for Frankie, but it seemed stupid to allow herself to be harassed and assaulted like that almost daily. “Why haven’t you called the cops yet?”

Sighing, Frankie shakes her head. “I did. Once. But then Lori started, like… crying when she was brought to the station. They took her into another room and next thing I knew she was getting left off the hook.” She shrugs.

Frankie takes another peek past Ayano suddenly, but calms down after seeing that it was just Kuroko down the hall. “She’s been more sneaky about it, I’ll admit. If I’m around a big group of people or something she’ll back off for a while.”

Ayano folds her arms, tilting her head to the side. “So, why haven’t you told anyone? Budo, the staff, your parents I’m sure would do something about it if you told them.” She points out, to which hesitates, pulling her lips into a tight line.

“....well, about that..” Frankie pauses again, before sighing, “...I mean, it’s more- ohhhh shit..” She stops abruptly and speed walks away from Ayano. When Ayano looks at what Frankie had seen, she spots the familiar dark-haired girl speed walking- nearly jogging after her.

Part of Ayano wanted to follow them, maybe help Frankie out, but then she realized that being bloodied and bruised while trying to help likely wouldn’t do her any good- not for a slightly better reputation at least. Thankfully, an announcement on the intercoms interrupted her thoughts.

“The funeral is now starting. Students and staff, please make your way to the gymnasium.”

With one last press on her stomach just to make sure she was alright, Ayano continued on her way to the gymnasium, following the other group of students who weren’t in the gymnasium yet.

__

“Ajia, you– mph!” Seiyo pauses momentarily as his face is met with his own apron after the girl had thrown it at him. He had followed Ajia into the school when she stormed off. It was his presence that caused her to excuse herself from her family and run off, but Seiyo felt like this was a desperate time. Maybe the only time Ajia might even be desperate enough to shut up and listen to him for once. Desperate times do call for desperate measures, after all.

“Always nagging me.. Always SO persistent!” Ajia groans loudly, walking to the other side of the counter to stay at least a couple feet away from Seiyo. “And of all times, too! You just can’t LIVE without following me around, can you?!”

Seiyo was always a patient person, sure, and now he had to be more patient than ever since he was the one pushing his luck. “I-I know, Ajia, you hate me, I’ve come to terms with that, but this is the one time that I need you to listen to me.”

Throwing her arms up in the air, Ajia lets out another dreadful groan. “Of course you do! It’s always been about you, hasn’t it?! ‘Ajia, I need this! Ajia, please listen to this!’ What sort of moron would continuously bother someone who clearly doesn’t care at ALL for what they have to say?!”

Seiyo paused, thinking over how Ajia worded it. She was right, to some extent. He did always nag her. If she ever left the room without them speaking, he would follow her for a couple of minutes in order to tell her something.

It didn’t matter if Seiyo tried to make the topic about something he knew Ajia liked. It didn’t matter if he tried to say one thing and then let her comment on it in an attempt to not ramble on and on. At the end of the day, Ajia just hated him. Again, that was something that he was aware of. He had just also convinced himself that maybe if he took different approaches, tried to be a little bit less of himself, he could find a way for Ajia to stand his presence.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Seiyo nodded. “I know, I get it. But I know you need help right now, and I don’t want to see you in such a horrible state. It feels… it doesn’t feel nice to see you in such a mess when it isn’t my fault.” He sucked in a shaky breath and quickly added, “And also, it’s not your fault, either.”

“You-!!” Ajia gripped the collar of her dress in frustration as more tears spilled out of her eyes again. She seemed to choke on her own words and gritted her teeth in anger.

“It’s not! I want you to know that!” Seiyo said quickly and loudly, hoping that he could somehow seem louder than whatever horrible thoughts were flooding Ajia’s mind at the moment.

“I don’t care!” Ajia grabbed her phone from her pocket and threw it at Seiyo, successfully hitting him in the eye. “I don’t care what you want! It is! It…” She takes a moment to look at Seiyo’s eye, which he quickly covers with his hand, and his troubled expression.

With several shaky, quick breaths, Ajia’s legs eventually fail her and she crumples to the floor. “It.. It.. It is my… my fault…” She insists beneath sobs, her breath barely coming through correctly through her panicked huffs and gasps.

Seiyo walks over to her side immediately and kneels down next to her. “Ajia, I promise you it’s not.” He repeated, tearing up himself at her dread.

“She.. hhh… she said…” With another shaky inhale, Ajia eventually spits out her words. “She said.. ‘I know you’re a good person deep down’, Seiyo!” She raises her hands to cradle her head as she continues sobbing. “That means- I- I didn’t SHOW her that I was a good person! I didn’t make that OBVIOUS! And now I’ll never fucking get to!”

“Ajia.. that…” Seiyo hesitates, thinking as quickly as he can to decide how exactly he could reassure Ajia.

“How- hic- how bad of a person do I have to be, that… that acting how I have my whole life is enough for someone like Amai to believe that I’m not a good person?! I–” Ajia’s breath becomes heavier and she keeps her eyes shut tight, sick of staring at a blurry, dark floor. “-I’m so- so- horrible! I’ll never be a good per-son and I’ll never- hhh- ever make it up to Amai for everything I’ve done to her! It’s my fault it’s… hhh… my… hhh… Fault.”

As soon as Ajia allowed her arms to fall to the floor, Seiyo wrapped his own arms around her shoulder and kept her close to his chest. For once, Ajia didn’t intervene and simply sobbed into his chest, hardly being able to catch her breath due to the panic and dread running through her veins right now.

After about five minutes, an announcement rang on the intercom, telling everyone that it was time to attend the funeral. Still, though, Ajia hadn’t been able to calm down, and didn’t react to the announcement at all. A couple minutes later, Ajia’s sobs had decreased to muffled heavy breathing into Seiyo’s chest.

As she got quieter, Seiyo gently patted her head and said in a quieter tone, “I know you hate me, Ajia. But I don’t hate you at all. The people you think hate you really don’t, especially not Amai.” He pauses, trying to keep himself from crying as well.

“What happened is something I’m sure we could have helped with, but only if Amai had told us what she was going through.” Again, he felt the need to add. “It’s not your fault, Ajia. It’s none of our fault.”

Ajia didn’t respond, so Seiyo leaned his cheek on top of her head and continued speaking softly. “…I know you hate me, Ajia, and that’s alright. You don’t need to like me at all. But, again, I do really care for you and I admire you. I followed you because I hated seeing you upset, and even if I couldn’t, I wanted to try to help make you feel better.” He gently rubs her back and closes his eyes. “This is going to take a while to handle, Ajia, I know. But you have all the time that you’ll give yourself. …I sincerely hope that you give yourself all the time you need to cope. You don’t need to stay in the cooking club and you don’t need to cook again, but I know you can.”

Exhausted, Ajia’s breathing finally settles down, but she still remains silent. Still, Seiyo stays with her. “I believe in you, Ajia. I always will.”

__

The ceremony was just about as Ayano expected. If anything, it was draining to look as depressed as she did throughout the whole thing. Putting effort into an expression for an extended period of time always was stressful for Ayano.

It was the end of the ceremony, and everyone was either talking again as before, or leaving immediately. Amongst the crowd, Enpitsu seemed to be standing alone. Ayano couldn’t entirely place his expression. It seemed like he was exhausted. He was one to socialize, so maybe he was more affected by the atmosphere than he seemed.

Others that Ayano had spoken to like Tsubaki, who helped bring a bunch of flowers, were just as depressed and almost awkwardly standing alone. Perhaps she was just too uncomfortable to speak with anyone right now. Mai was also sitting alone, just staring at her phone. She had dyed her hair a light, soft green, which didn’t match the color scheme. Apparently, she had done so because it was Amai’s favorite color, and she wanted to honor her for a time.

Toga was speaking with Kuroko, who seemed the most troubled out of the whole student council. As much as Ayano would like to learn more about what they were talking about, she knew that getting in hearing range would arouse some sort of suspicion. So instead she turned her attention to…

…Taro Yamada. He looked stunning in a suit. If only the school uniform were more dull and dark instead of the light color palette it had today. After all of her months of stalking, she realized that he did indeed look better in black, dark red, and darker colors in general. She didn’t know how he did it.

Currently, he was speaking to Osana and Kyuji, obviously about the past events. Maybe they were trying to make him feel better. But, then, that raised the question, where was Raibaru? As Ayano looked around, there was a tap on her shoulder. Lo and behold, Raibaru stood there with a sympathetic smile. “Hi, Ayano. How are you holding up?”

Before Ayano can answer, Raibaru suddenly backtracks and sighs. “Oh, what am I kidding? I guess that’s a pretty stupid question to ask right now, huh?” She says, shaking her head disapprovingly at her own question.

“I appreciate you asking regardless, Raibaru.” Ayano says, holding her arms behind her back. “It’s the thought that counts in this situation, isn’t it?”

Raibaru gives a light sigh but nods. “Yeah, I guess it is.” She says with a sad frown. “I’m not sure how the cooking club is going to be able to recover after this.” Looking down, Raibaru crosses her arms. “I know that I didn’t really know Amai that well, but I know that she was a very sweet person. Everyone knows that. It’s…” She shakes her head. “..well, I guess rambling about it isn’t going to fix my problems. You never did answer, did you?”

Ayano smiles. “I’m doing alright. The only problem I’m having right now is the thought that I may be taking this too lightly.” She says fauxing a nervous look as she looks to the floor. “I didn’t know Amai personally either, so the only thing I’m depressed out, I think, is the toll her suicide will take on the school. Is that… bad?”

“I don’t think so, Ayano.” Raibaru shakes her head, and then offers Ayano a smile. “In fact, it’s pretty noble of you to think of the school at a time like this. Not to say that everyone focused on Amai is selfish, of course. But setting grief aside to focus on bigger, longer-lasting matters is a very mature thing to do.” She points out with a smile, “So, good job.”

As Ayano folds her hands together, she offers Raibaru a brighter smile. “Thank you. That’s relieving to hear.”

“Students. Guests.” A voice called from the microphone. Miss Kunahito stood up there with her own black gown on, and bowed her head respectfully. “We’ll unfortunately need to leave the school at this moment in order to leave the halls and outer grounds open for the fences on the roof to continue being built.” She gave a solemn look, one full of regret and despair as she looked over to the makeshift memorial of flowers, gifts, and pictures set up on the stage. “Say goodbye if you need to, and please make your way to the exit at your own pace. Thank you.”

Raibaru sighs. “I’m going to go check on Osana.” She says, rubbing her hands on her dress almost nervously. “These past events have been… dreadful, to say the least, but I’m sure with people like you around, we can get back to our prime.” She says, smiling at Ayano before taking her leave.

Ayano herself simply left after that whole event. Her presence was known. Her peers knew that she attended the funeral, and frankly, that was all that she needed. It was more exhausting than she had hoped that it would be, but the effort she put into her reputation would eventually pay off.

Info-Chan: Once again, congratulations on eliminating your rival.

Info-Chan: Attending the funeral will show to your peers that you care about their well-being and health :)

Info-Chan: Keep this up, and you’ll win over your Senpai in no time. ;D

__

[thegoodenchantress22]

Day Five - Bloodstream / Smother / Hidden

Remember those Shortaki kids I did back in 2022? No? Well here they are as actual kids! If you remember, these kids are based off of the triplets that Arnold dreamed about him and Helga having in the episode 'Married'. I decided to give a glimpse of what the three would look like if they were nine (yes they're triplets).

I feel like Stella, the Helga lookalike, would get into scrapes to protect her siblings. Phillip, the one standing, would try to de-escalate the situation (his chicken Isabelle is also pictured... kind of...). And Gertrude, the one in Arnold's arm, is the one who would usually be picked on by other peers.

I think this fight happened because Gertie is on the autistic spectrum in some way (it wasn't explicitly said in her profile I made last year, but I feel it made sense). Kids can be cruel, and misunderstandings about what she says or does can lead to confrontation (which Gertie justifiably does not care for). Perhaps with a Burman kid or something. Seeing her sister in distress, Stella steps in and threatens to get the kid to cut it out. Even with Phil's attempts to stop a fight, his slightly-older sister launches into one anyway. She is victorious and the other kid runs away, but she is badly injured.

Stella initially tries to hide that she got hurt from her parents (especially one particular wound oozing a stream of blood), but Arnold and Helga find out rather quickly, both extremely concerned. While Helga patched Stella up (in between grumbles of "Mom, you're smothering me..."), Phil explains what happened. Gertrude confirms with timid nods. Arnold thanks them for telling the truth, but suggests that Stella should apologize after she calms down.

Alright, so this one is a bit of a stretch and I had to do a lot of my explaining in the description, but I'm happy with how it turned out and that's what matters, I think. Thank you for all your support! See you tomorrow! I'm extremely excited for then!

[donttelljim]

I Never Stopped

Dragon Age 2 Fenris x FemHawke Fenris and Sebastien frantically search for Hawke through Chateau Haine, when Sebastien turns the conversation toward what happened between her and Fenris. Set during the Mark of the Assassin DLC - begins with the canon bants between Fenris and Sebastien and then carries on. A lil’ bit of angst and heartbreak for lovely Fenris. Mark of the Assassin was VERY interesting and cool for FenHawke times, imo, and for me, it landed quite soon before they got back together, which made all their fun times and all his stress & worry just 👌 ⁘  For @chaos-company Angstrpril 2022 Day 5, “I Never Stopped” ⁘ ====== The pair ran as fast as stealth would allow, their strategy a tug-of-war between prudence and growing desperation within the labyrinths of Chateau Haine. Grey led on to grey led on to grey, the bleak stone a fitting foil to the empty theatrics of the party upstairs. Fenris was no Ferelden, but he was inclined to share Hawke’s sentiment about this place: Orlesians. Even the word lent itself to a curling of the lip. Every wall and corner down here looked the same. Between Kirkwall and Starkaven, one would expect he and Vael to be familiar with baffling Marcher architecture, at least enough not to have become this lost. Fenris would never admit that he could be influenced by panic, but in truth, he wasn’t sure if he knew how to carry the weight of this. If they failed here - Hawke…

She had to survive - there was no other acceptable outcome - and yet here they were, uselessly chasing their tails whilst she endured Maker only knew what. His imagination had a great capacity for torture: he had witnessed it from both ends. Decisions, when they gambled with something more costly than his own life, could still cause the ex-slave to stall: it was why his derelict mansion had gone unchanged for six years, why he didn’t know how to re-examine the line he had drawn between he and Kate, and why, he was attempting not to acknowledge, they were so directionless now. “Maybe you should start praying that we’ll find them,” he muttered to his pious companion, tone dry and sheltering itself in sarcasm, when in truth the idea of any change to their fortunes was starting to appeal. If nothing else, Fenris hoped to shift the other man’s scrutiny onto his Maker rather than risking it land on him. That was the other reason his mansion stayed the way it did - he didn’t like to make choices, and he didn’t appreciate being observed. “I have been for the last half an hour,” came the immediate reply, frank yet, as always, slightly gentile. Fenris could never decide whether he admired Vael’s manner or whether it infuriated him: he had concluded eventually that the two could coexist. “I could do so out loud if you’d prefer?” The chantry brother’s zealous white and gold armour was the only interruption to the dungeons’ grey monotony, his expression well-meaning as he offered Fenris what the elf supposed was meant to be a comfort. He scoffed. Yet, all the while, there was a sharpness of focus and urgency in the man’s eyes that assured Fenris that he was not, in fact, a fool. Indeed, there were very few of Hawke’s cohorts that he would rather tackle this crisis with: he and Sebastien were as impatient to resolve this as each other, yet both had practical minds and, unlike the mage who was almost here in Sebastien's stead, their fears were aligned without sharing the same source. Chewing over that for a moment was a brief, if bitter, distraction from his dread. Fenris had presumed that his scoff read as a sufficient ‘No’, but apparently not. Perhaps the man was more back-handed than he had given him credit. “Blessed Andraste, Bride of the Maker, deliver us from this warren of evil.” The Starhaven voice declared its agenda oh-so-innocently (and oh-so loudly), its self-satisfied accent rolling with the same vain grandeur as the Vimmark Mountains themselves. And yet… the words were a minor comfort. “In that case,” the elf snapped; “Maybe you should stop.” Sebastien fell silent. They continued on their course: run, stop, turn about, double back, try a new corner, double back again. The usurped prince made surprisingly short work of traps and locks, but none of that would do any good if they couldn’t find Kate. The elf woman with her had a smell Fenris didn’t like: her clothes marked her as viddathari, but her attitude danced curiously close to being bas. If that wasn't concerning enough as a combination, the sway she had over Hawke troubled him. They had come here for no clear reason, taken on too much for too small a reward. He had told her that follies like this could claim her life someday -No. Thinking about it would not do, much though it was logical and increasingly inevitable that he must consider it. He could not. He spat out the thought in disgust, along with his thoughts of Tallis. If he needed a head to assign blame to after this, should they indeed encounter a cause for grief, he knew which neck would bear it. Once more, the pair skidded to what they now suspected (theorised, hoped without much hope) was the correct portcullis to break through, which meant, once more, Fenris was stuck waiting whilst Sebastien began at picking the lock. Short work or not, every moment he was forced to wait rather than run was increasingly intolerable. The Marcher broke the silence first. Fenris would have rather let it remain. "It may not be my place to ask, Fenris, but if I may; what happened between you and Hawke?" The growl was immediate. "Nothing of matter to you.” The elf curled himself into a lean against the wall, stood in the corner beside the locked gate, teeth bared in a warning sneer. He looked like a leashed dog ready to snap at anyone that dared reach for it or its few possessions. If Sebastien took notice, he hardly let it show. "Yet it does seem to matter.” He glanced up at Fenris from his work at the gate locks, his tone softened as he surveyed the man he counted as a friend. “You appear to care for her a great deal." "And you know me, do you?" the words whipped back, lashing like a swiped claw. "I just wondered where the two of you stumbled?" The chantry brother persisted with the same patient, steady tone he always used, and Fenris decided in that moment that he well and truly did loathe it rather than admire it. There was nothing to admire in being deliberately obtuse. “You seem good for each other, even now, " Sebastien carried on. "And for a time, you seemed… well. Happy.” The word drove into Fenris like a knife - an unexpected blade right through the throat. His jaw tensed, trying to work off some of the pain of it. Still, even with him struck down, the words continued: “From what we can tell on the outside, it just... Stopped." “Are you done?” Sebastien had expected the words to be angry, defensive, guarded - any of Fenris’ usual repertoire when having a conversation outside of his comfort. But that tone was different. It had no fight - only grieved exhaustion, as though asked from the floor by a man waiting with wearing cynicism for an assault to halt unneeded blows. He watched the elf in quiet, wondering what hurt he was holding onto and feeling unable to share. He hated to see either of his friends suffering and stuck in place like this, never mind both of them. "Challenges can be overcome?", the chaplain prompted. "Not all challenges." "With the Maker’s help, they can." "That explains the perfect world we live in." Sebastien chuckled sadly at that, brows knotting in concession. He knew that Fenris wanted the topic left alone, but that didn’t mean that talking wouldn’t aid him. He would risk his hand being bitten off if it meant making sure Fenris could see it was extended. Tone softening further, aware that what he needed to ask was delicate, he persisted: "What made you stop wanting to pursue her?" Even though they were not walking, Fenris seemed suddenly to be struck still. The grimace that took him was as though he had been speared by a force of physical pain. If words could inflict wounds, Sebastien’s question seemed to have run him through. "I never stopped.” Sebastien had never heard the elf’s voice that way - it came from low within him, and it was shaken, the words forced out of him like the rattled exhale of a final breath. It nodded to a depth of feeling Sebastien knew all too well: he had felt it when he learnt of his family’s massacre. To hear the elf feel so strongly over Kathryn - it was admirable, as well as excruciating to witness. “But I cannot,” Fenris continued. The way he faltered, an abruptness to the edge of his words, suggested that he had planned on saying more, but could not. There were either too many details or he could select none at all; most likely, Sebastien guessed, they were either too private or too incorporeal to share, or both. “There is -”, the elf persisted, or attempted to, speaking as though he were struggling around empty lungs. “Too much - it was unfair. On her." "She doesn't seem to have moved on, either?", Sebastien offered, attempting guesses at the facts within the silences. "And whose fault is that?!” Suddenly, the elf snapped again, no longer paralysed, loosing another snarling sneer Sebastien’s way, his eyes flashing a temporary hatred at the insistent intruder. “Mine?!" Sebastien hesitated. Withdrawing his tools from the lock and turning to truly face his companion, remaining knelt where he was so as not to rob Fenris of the superior height, he made a study of the flared loathing currently aimed at him. Any reaction he felt, he kept out of his voice, continuing calmly and unphased. The only discernible change was how carefully he took time over selecting each word: “All I mean to say is, if your concern was over releasing her to follow other - arguably easier? - paths…she isn’t taking them.” A prompting, knowing smile twinkled in the clergyman’s eyes: “She might still feel as you do. …However that is. That’s worth looking at, isn’t it?” With the sudden eruption of a growl and a crackle of lyrium, Fenris launched from the wall. "None of it matters if she dies on this fools’ errand.” He paced around the rogue, impatient, suddenly unable to be stationary and so stuck moving back and forth like a bound animal. His feet remembered those pathways well - there was a rhythmic, wretched comfort in it. “We have no reason to be here. She takes on the problems of others, even if they give her no reason. Even if they harm her -" It had been vexing him this whole trip, and he had said as much to Hawke, and now look - "I can think of many reasons for her to care for you, Fenris,” the gentle voice interrupted. “And you are worthy of that care, should you let it in." The elf spat his retort bitterly, bristling. "I was not speaking of that." With the facial equivalent of a shrug, Sebastien turned back to his work. A final click, a metallic clunk, and the gates opened. For a moment, both felt a surge of joy, but it was swiftly grounded: the scratch and drag of the metal rumbled and sang through the halls, enough to bring half the guard down upon them. The pair eyed it, wincing as one as the sounds bounced around the empty stone. "...Perhaps you should try your prayers again after all,” Fenris muttered. It would be of more use than the current flapping of Sebastien’s mouth. Despite their predicament, the Chantry brother smiled, another glint to his eye: "I never stopped."

[sharmafamilyweek2023]

SHARMA FAMILY APPRECIATION WEEK 2023 - Day Five

You can choose to create a story or artwork or mood board - whatever you want based on that date’s theme or prompt… or you can choose BOTH if you think they work together!

Use the #’s Sharmaweek, Sharmaweekedits, Sharmaweekfic

Tag the Tumblr page and we will make sure your thoughts and ideas are shared!

Can’t wait to see what you come up with! If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask!

[lifblogs]

Welcome to Heaven

@chaos-company's Angstpril 2022: Day 5 - "I never stopped."

Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Pairing: Destiel Word Count: 424 Summary: Dean dies, and he sees someone he did not expect. READ ON AO3

“Dean?”

Castiel’s voice was as clear as day, and it punctured Dean’s very soul. It was something he hadn’t heard in a long, long time.

Cas, looking the same as he always had with his tan overcoat swaying in the gentle breeze, his black suit with the white shirt, and the blue tie. And those blue, blue eyes. And he smiled, and he was coming towards Dean across the old, wooden bridge they both stood upon that held them up above a plentiful river.

Birds sang in the conifers, and Dean thought he might cry.

Was this Heaven?

He’d died.

Of course he’d died. Everyone died. He was sure old age had taken him.

And… And there was his angel.

Suddenly, he ran to Cas, and Cas’ large, warm hands were holding his face.

“I never stopped,” Dean blurted out, words coming before he could barely think. There was too much to think. Castiel was in front of him, holding him! He was here! “I never stopped trying to get you out. I swear, I swear on—on my life, m-my mother, Miracle the dog, whatever…”

All the pain of those lonely years, those long nights, flooded back, and he gripped Cas like he was going to disappear into darkness again.

Castiel caressed Dean’s face.

“Dean, it’s all right.” And then he raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Miracle?”

“I sort of got a dog.”

“I thought you hated dogs.”

“Things change.”

He was searching Castiel’s face, this close, seeing if he’d changed. Cas was doing the same. He had to be.

Would Cas still love who he was, after all this time? After everything? After failing him?

“Cas—” he tried to get out, breath hitching in his throat, chest aching.

“I never stopped either,” Castiel interrupted.

Dean frowned in confusion, his deepest of apologies cut short. “What?”

“I never stopped loving you.”

They pressed their foreheads together, Dean holding Cas tight. “Oh god, I never… I never stopped missing you, searching for you. Sammy… Sammy got so worried he almost made me see a shrink. I missed you, Cas. So much.”

“I missed you, too, Dean.”

Then they were hugging, Dean’s chin resting against Cas’ shoulder and he found that he was looking at the green of trees through a blurry sheen of tears.

When they pulled apart, there was no hesitation. Dean kissed Cas, and that broken heart that lived, beating pitifully in his chest, was healed. Years of pain, years of loss—gone. All gone.

Cas pulled away, and said, “Welcome to Heaven.”

[klara019]

Angstpril day 5

Amnesia

(please check tags for tw)

Kya gently stroked the hair of the woman, who was lying on her lap. She looked so innocent while sleeping, fragile even. Her chest was rising steadily as she breathed. She seemed so calm after all the horrible accidents that happened to her recently. 

Unexpectedly Lin quirked her mouth but it lasted just a moment, just a second. Kya smiled with pity. 

“Oh, Lin, why do you always want to play a hero?” she put her finger on Lin’s scar. 

Kya knew that this day would come, that Lin would get hurt so much that she’ll be recovering for months or even years. She sacrificed most of her memories to save a random child that would get injured instead of her. It was an instinct reaction, she didn’t have any time to hesitate. If she hasn’t done anything, the boy would be probably dead. 

When she woke up after the accident she didn't recognise Katara, Tenzin or even her own wife. She knew Korra’s name but didn’t know she’s an avatar. There are still a lot of random things she can’t identify, these usually small, meaningless objects make her feel the worst. Once she told Kya that she experiences it like every memory is now blurry, like every forgotten memory is now behind a great wall that she can’t cross.

Lin became quieter these days. She barely says anything and Kya often talks a lot just to make her feel a little more normal. 

“Kya?” Lin moved her head upsent-mindedly.

“Yes?”

Lin turned on her back. 

“Do you think I’ll ever regain my memories?” she asked. “I feel like there are somewhere in my head but I can’t reach them.”

Kya sighed. What should have she said? 

“I hope so, Lin. Katara and I did everything we could, but I don’t know. I really don’t know, Lin.”

“Kya, I forget who you are. You were like a stranger to me, I feel so embarrassed, I’m so sorry what I’ve done to you. It’s hard to be the one who lost the memory but I’ve never asked you about how you feel? I don’t want to be a drag for you…”

Kya held her chin and made her look at her. Her green eyes seemed faded since the accident.

“Lin, don’t ever say that again. You’re my wife! How could you think that you’re a drag to me!” Kya said wraithly. “You can lose all your memories but I won’t let you forget one thing.”

Lin raised her eyebrow. Kya gave her a sardonic smile.

“I love you, Lin and don’t you dare to question it” Kya kissed her forehead, softly touching her grey hair. “Take it in.”

[lady-of-the-spirit]

Angstpril 2022. Day 5. “I never stopped.”

once again no fandom, just my own ocs.

.

“You never stopped,” he said accusingly.

She looked away. “I didn’t.”

“You knew-” his voice filled with disgust. “You knew it was wrong, what you all were doing, and you kept doing it. You allowed it to happen.”

She nodded. She wasn’t even defending herself, he realized. He felt himself waver for a moment as he looked at her - his friend, sitting there, letting him yell at her like he never has before. Guilt took hold of him for just a moment before a new wave of rage swept over him. She was letting him yell at her because she knew she had been wrong, and she had known then, and yet-

“How could you?” he choked out, horrified to realize a lump had grown in his throat as tears pricked his eyes. “All those people and you just- you don’t even have the excuse that you didn’t know it was wrong!”

“I don’t,” she said. “I knew it was wrong. And I did it anyway. And I let them keep doing it. And I let them do worse.”

“But you-” he took a deep breath. “How could you do that?” He had forgotten who he had become friends with. Everyone knew her, everyone knew what she had done, but he had been fooled into thinking better of her, and with no one to blame but himself for being pulled in by her quiet demeanor and occasional snark that made him laugh harder than he had in years.

She still wasn’t looking at him. He couldn’t bring himself to make her look at him.

“What else could I do?” she asked him. “No one would have listened to me. I had started it all. And I had let it keep going. I would have been the worst kind of hypocrite, to try and stop it after it was too late. And by then I had-”

She closed her eyes and put her head in her hand, her free hand wrapped around her waist like she was hugging herself.

“I had made my choice,” she said finally, “and I couldn’t bring myself to doubt myself. If I had, I would have had to look back and see a path of blood miles long. I couldn’t bring myself to face that, to doubt myself. If I did, I would have fallen apart.”

“Would that have been so terrible?” he couldn’t help but snap. She flinched. He couldn’t feel bad for her, he told himself, even as guilt twinged in his chest. But no, if she had fallen apart, maybe she would have stopped sooner, maybe she would have done something.

“I had to keep going down the path I had started,” she whispered. “Or it would have all been for nothing. I couldn’t face that thought, so I never stopped. I couldn’t stop.”

He shook his head and turned away. Excuses, nothing but fucking excuses for a path of blood miles long, splashed on every history book ever written.

This was who he loved. This is what she had done.  She was a monster, the stuff of legends and nightmares. He had forgotten that, and now he was paying the consequences.

[heavendreams]

Graphtober, week 2, day 5. Univers sci-fi 

J’ai hésité entre Star Trek et Stargate puis finalement, Stargate a pris le dessus. J’ai tenté un style totalement à l’opposé de ce que je peux faire habituellement et j’ai conscience que la fusion du milieu laisse à désirer malgré mes efforts. 

I hesitated between Star Trek and Stargate and finally Stargate took over. I tried a style totally opposite to what I can usually do and I am aware that the fusion of the middle leaves something to be desired despite my efforts.