Tomorrow's Doom A.2/C.9 - Tactical Studies

Chapter 8: http://pastebin.com/Xpw3XQQa
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Chapter 9 – Tactical Studies

The second day of swimming with Hisao went by with ease, regardless of his ominous warning. Six-thirty every morning we met at the breezeway, stretched and slipped into the pool; bantering playfully or talking about classwork. Joyce remained as our daily chaperone, but after the first week, we hardly noticed her. At the start of our second week, Hisao felt strong enough to suggest a seventh lap, and I agreed. Thursdays and Sundays we hardly saw each other at all, and it started to feel normal – commonplace.

Oppressively routine.

Tanabata is coming up soon, so I've been dealing with numerous questions from 3-1 students, and relaying them to the Student Council through Hisao. The looming holiday has inundated us with school work, as well. The staff hardly seems to notice when there's a big event to plan, and always seems to pile more work on us in the weeks before they arrive. I'm starting to think it's intentional.

It probably is.

With an essay due for history, a research project for science, a book report for Japanese, and tests coming for both English and calculus, Amaya convinced me to head for the library. She insisted, rather forcefully, saying we needed the study time. I agreed, but I still wonder why she's suddenly acting studious. It makes sense for someone to want to catch up when everything is piling on like this, but it's Amaya – she's not the studious type.

The Tuesday afternoon air hangs with an unbearable heat as we briskly walk across to the main building. Exiting our air-conditioned dorm into the heat was shocking, but at our brisk pace I hardly notice. Amaya keeps looking at me as we walk, her expression somewhere between happy to be outside and grimly dreading the heat. There's also a strange look in her eyes that I can't quite identify – like she's keeping a secret. I shrug it off, though. Amaya's mind wanders a lot when she's not directly focused on something.

There's something unsettling about her right now, though.

I pull open the door to the main building and usher Amaya inside quickly, following her into the air conditioned building; well, mostly air conditioned. After classes, they turn down the climate control to save power, but the building seals up pretty well and it holds the cool air through most of the day.

Amaya fans herself with the stapled bunch of papers she thought she was going to read during our walk, looking up at me with an exhausted expression and asking, “something funny?”

I realize I'm chuckling at her hair. Something is lifting a few strands off her head and making them dance above her like upside-down marionettes. Fanning myself with my History textbook -which doesn't do a very good job of it- I smirk at her, nodding at her hair. She quickly reaches up and starts trying to matte it back down, but the strands fly back up every time she tries to push them down.

Looking at the vents in the ceiling above us, I comment, “It's the ventilation, I think.” I shake my head at her and wave her along. “C'mon, you can pat that down on the way upstairs,” I say, stepping past her.

Walking up the stairs, I notice Amaya is struggling a little. We were only outside for a couple minutes, but she's panting like we just crossed a desert. I find myself feeling quite the opposite - springy, even. The last couple weeks of swimming with Hisao have apparently done my physical condition some good, and I wonder if I could get Amaya to join us; she seems to need the exercise. I don't think bringing it up while she's struggling up a flight of stairs is the best idea, though – she would probably just kick at my shins.

I haven't actually told her about swimming with Hisao, either... so there's that obstacle.

Swimming used to feel like something I had to keep to myself, but it has been rather cathartic having someone there every day – almost every day. I've gotten better at keeping the bad memories out of my head when I think about swimming, anyway. I'm grateful for the help Hisao has been in suppressing that part of my subconscious, but I'm apprehensive about saying anything. He really doesn't need to know.

Hisao hasn't been any more forthcoming about his time in the hospital, but he did confirm he fell out of contact with his school friends. I was saddened by that, and I couldn't help wondering if that may be why he was so reluctant to attend the festival. Regardless of Kenji's influence, he was probably feeling down about celebrating without having them around.

As far as Hisao's swimming goes, he's getting better. His condition still limits his stamina, but I've been training him on breath control and proper form; so that has allowed us to speed up, but I can still swim nearly twice his speed. He visits Nurse every day after we finish, but I leave him to do that on his own. If he wanted me to go with him, he would have asked. We haven't brought up our 'past life' events, either. That near-miss -near-hit?- was almost a month ago, but it's still in the forefront of my thoughts – even if it doesn't show.

I think it's still in his, but I'm starting to wonder...

Amaya looks down at me from a few steps ahead and blows out a sigh. “How are you not tired?” she asks.

This would probably be a perfect opportunity to inform her of my recent exercise regimen, but I want to keep it to myself. I'm fond of having the time alone with Hisao, and wouldn't want Amaya there to make it an ordeal. I simply shrug and reply, “I guess I'm just in better shape than you.”

“You mean your shape is better,” she groans. I ignore the off-handed reference. “Y'know you shouldn't be so self-absorbed all the time,” she says, waving her hand at me dismissively. I give her a fake-shocked expression and lean forward like I'm about to chase her. She flinches away, giggling, “you know you can't hide stuff like that from me.”

Uh oh...

“What do you mean?” I ask, hoping I don't actually know where this is leading.

She grins slyly and puts her finger on her chin, though I realize she's only imitating her thinking pose. She's not thinking, she's drawing out the suspense. “Tadao found out about your little study-sessions with the Swooner,” she says with a wink.

Study-sessions?

My eyes widen in actual shock.

Does she think-

“We're just exercising, dirty mind,” I protest.

She grins now and hooks her thumbs in her backpack. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” she says, pointing her fingers up and nodding as she recites the line in English.

Oh good, she had time to come up with a Shakespeare quote, and practice it in English.

I glare at her, though it's mostly because I can't think of a response. I remember Hisao telling me that he and Tadao are on the same floor, and they've become friends. I've seen them walking to school and joking around in the halls a few times, but it never occurred to me Hisao might tell him about swimming with me – I never did say I wanted it to be a secret.

Hind-sight is twenty-twenty.

If history is bound to repeat itself, then I know how Amaya found out – straight from Tadao. I look back at her and grin sheepishly. Clearly she knew about this for a while, but coyly held out on throwing it at me until now. That begs the question, “why did you wait until now to bring this up?”

“Because we hatched a plan,” she says, her face twisting into a devious smirk.

It's a trap!

I narrow my eyes at her and cross my arms, trying to look less surprised than I feel. “Is this plan a setup?” I ask, forcing the nervous giggle out of my voice.

“You'll see,” she says cryptically, turning away. A second later she quickly spins back. “At least Tadao and I were kind enough to prepare you beforehand,” she chirps and then runs up the rest of the stairs.

Turnabout is fair play...

I look down the stairs and wonder if I should take the chance to escape. I could head right down and be out the door before she knew what happened. Somehow, though, I don't think I'd ever hear the end of it, and she would just try again later. It's clear they're planning to turn the tables and force Hisao and I together, and that's what makes me continue up the stairs.

As embarrassing as this is going to be, I want to see Hisao more often. Swimming is nice, and occasional lunch breaks are fun, but we haven't seen much of each-other outside of that. We're attracted to each-other, but the swiftness of the attraction was confusing and awkward. Since then we've been friends, but I think we both want more – at least I want more.

I hope he wants more.

When I reach the top of the steps, Amaya is grinning widely and holding the door open. “I knew you wouldn't run off,” she says, “Tadao owes me five-hundred yen.”

They definitely had this all planned.

“Your twenty pieces of silver may not sit so well,” I say as I pass.

She just rolls her eyes and follows briskly. As we're about to reach the hallway, she asks a girly question, “so is he as fit as he looks?”

She doesn't let me answer. Instead, she pushes through the door and leads me in as a blush spreads across my cheeks. I stutter a bit, trying to say something, but she's not even paying attention. She said that to make me blush intentionally.

Devious little thing, isn't she?

The library is quiet, as always. A Tuesday afternoon here isn't much different than any other day of the week. The large, book-filled room smells musty and old, but there are also hints of cleaning solutions and packing materials. It's not exactly homey, but it's familiar. Behind the counter, Yuuko is sorting out a stack of books with a contemplative expression. As I approach, she suddenly looks up at me and gasps, “oh! Miss Kurai. What brings you here?”

My stupid friend.

“My darling friend suggested we do some studying,” I explain.

Yuuko nods and glances around the room. “Do you n-need anything?” her airy voice is tinged with clumsy nervousness as she speaks. The way she fidgets and avoids eye contact, you might think she were being interrogated. I haven't spoken with her much, but she's the faculty adviser to the literature club, so Amaya and Tadao see her at least once a week – usually more.

Amaya answers, “nope, we'll be all set. We're meeting some people.”

Yuuko visibly relaxes. “Ah, well, if you need anything, I'll be here, Miss Yamamoto,” she bows slightly, but arrests the action as she speaks. Working at the Shanghai part-time has left her with some odd habits.

Amaya rolls her eyes. “You can call me Amaya, y'know,” she says with an exasperated sigh – like she says it all the time.

Yuuko just shakes her head and frowns timidly. Amaya grabs my arm and starts leading me over toward the back corner of the room, exclaiming, “c'mon~! We have things to see people to-” She giggles instead of saying the last word, and I give Yuuko an apologetic nod. This all feels so predictable, being dragged through the library toward wherever Tadao probably went to position Hisao, but it's kind of sweet.

And mortifying.

As we round a corner leading down between two bookshelves, I stop and look down the aisle. Just ahead, there is a small study area situated on a crossroads of sorts. Arranged parallel to each other in the middle of the space are a series of long, narrow tables with wooden chairs neatly arranged around them. At one of the tables are Tadao and Hisao, sitting across from each-other talking jokingly about something or other. Strewn about on the table are their books and notes.

Before I can get close enough to hear what they might be talking about, Amaya announces our presence, “hello boys~!” She bounds over and wraps an arm around Tadao's neck, then slips into the chair next to him – leaving me to sit next to Hisao, I assume.

I shouldn't feel nervous about this at all. Hisao and I have been friends for weeks, and we see each-other almost every day either at the pool or at lunch. We've talked about all kinds of things and we have a lot in common. Unfortunately, for some reason, I feel like I could get knocked down by a slight breeze or a rogue speck of dust.

I'm frozen in shock.

We went swimming just this-morning, but this situation is different. This dynamic is strange, and I have no idea what Amaya and Tadao have planned. Well, I probably have a decent idea what they have planned, but that's beside the point. Hisao doesn't look nearly as nervous about the situation, but that doesn't mean anything. He and Tadao have been coming here to swap notes on English and Science classes – tutoring each other. My showing up was probably something he expected eventually.

The problem is, I didn't.

I weakly raise my hand to my side and wave, grinning uncomfortably. Amaya's face is wrapped in a devious glare as she beckons me over with a shake of her head, pointing at the chair across from her with an outstretched hand.

Time to put on my war face.

Collecting my wits, I take a deep breath and tentatively walk around behind Hisao -glaring at Amaya's sweet smile while he can't see me- and sit down in the chair beside him, smiling cheerily. I've known Amaya too long and too well to be nervous about meeting her gaze, so I can fake a smile with her easily enough.

At least for now.

Tadao greets me with a toothy grin as he drapes his arm across Amaya's shoulder, “glad you could make it, Aiko.”

He and I came to no such previous decision, but I decide to play along. “Sure, I figured you'd need some help with calculus,” I say sweetly.

“Certainly,” Tadao agrees, “figured Hisao could give you some pointers on Science – he's been handy that way.”

This feels somewhat rehearsed.

“Is that so,” I say, grinning at Hisao, “I'd heard Mutou was taking you under his wing.”

He balks, “I just get the material.”

“Modesty doesn't suit the Swooner,” Amaya says flatly.

Tadao grins and nods, giving Amaya a conspiratorial glance. He lifts his arm off her shoulder and lets out a yawn. “Hey, what time is it anyway?” he asks.

That's their plan?

Amaya looks at her watch. “Little after three, why?” she looks at me with a grin as she answers.

That's their plan.

“I need to head into town for some supplies,” Tadao explains, grinning at me, clearly not being great at hiding the conspiracy.

I could probably stop their plan, but... why bother.

Hisao looks a little confused, but he offers a nod and asks, “will you be back later?”

“Nah man, I think we'll be gone most of the day,” Tadao responds.

Uh oh, that's a slip.

Amaya nudges him with her elbow, glaring at him. He shrinks away from her gaze and lets out a light chuckle, glancing back at me nervously.

Yeah, they need more rehearsing.

Amaya quickly stands up and smiles, looking flustered. “Yeah, we have some stuff to take care of,” she nods at Tadao rigidly, “you two should stay, though,” she points at Hisao and myself, “don't go stopping on our account.” She beckons to Tadao and sighs with frustration.

I think Tadao is going to get his shins kicked sometime soon.

Tadao stands up with her and grins weirdly. His eyes look apologetic, but I'm not sure if it's directed at myself or Amaya. He gathers up his notes and books quickly, shoving them in his bag and trotting away with Amaya in tow. As they round a corner out of sight, I catch Amaya looking back and grinning wickedly.

Exit stage left. Bravo. Encore... well, never mind the encore.

Hisao looks over at me with a raised eyebrow. “We've been set up, haven't we,” he states without a hint of confusion.

I sigh and turn to him. “Yeah, it seems so...” trailing off, I recall how I did something similar to them a few weeks ago, and explain, “I kinda might have sort of set them up, and I think this is a bit of payback.”

Hisao grins and leans away. “You played matchmaker?” he asks. His question drips with sarcasm that I find a little offensive.

“Yes I did!” I exclaim, but then sigh. “Not exactly...” I trail off trying to think of how to describe what happened. Unable to think of a good explanation, I shrug and agree, “well, kinda. I pushed them into a date of sorts after they'd been using me as their go-between for like a year. At the festival.”

His expression goes from smirking to confused. “Wait, so when I met them-”

“That was their first date,” I interject and clarify, “technically.”

We sit there quietly as he processes the information. I'm hardly surprised by his reaction, but there are other problems we need to deal with. I rest my head in my hand against the table and breathe out a contemplative, “so...”

He looks up from his musing, the narrowed expression dissipating. His eyes fall on me and he smiles. “Well, we're here. Regardless of the setup,” he motions toward the books and notes laid out on the table. “Might as well take advantage of-”

“How dare you!” I interrupt him with mock disdain. His eyes tense for just a second, but then he starts laughing. “Taking advantage of a lady – you really are The Swooner,” I accuse.

He smiles and jokingly responds, “that's what they call me.”

We break into laughter, a happy laugh; not a stilted, awkward one. The odiousness of the situation dissipates as we slip into casual banter and start opening our books to actually study. Amaya and Tadao set us up for some kind of date, but we turn it into studiousness.

Point; Kurai and Nakai.

As we work, though, there's something I realize. This is another non-date date. I'm not touring him around anywhere, but there's a pretense to the situation. There seems to always be a pretense to our meetings; him assisting me with inventory reports, meeting me for lunch, touring the festival, touring the village, swimming for exercise, and now, studying. It seems like every activity we engage in becomes the point of our meeting instead of just being together.

We slipped into this new pretense the same way we did the others; awkward at first, but quickly turning into pleasant banter. I wonder, really, what we would be like together without a pretense. With no ulterior motive to the meeting, would we just gawk at each-other awkwardly and avoid eye contact, barely managing to speak? Would he ever have been able to say anything about his illness if not for the concrete reason? Would I have been able to talk to him about swimming if we weren't involved in a pretense? I remember Mutou's lecture on quantum theory, and I'm beginning to understand what it meant.

Would we ever have even met if I hadn't had a pretense to visit 3-3 on that day?

Shaking my head at the idea, I find it disturbing that I could consider being so negative about our relationship. We're friends. We get along. We do things together. We laugh and talk casually like friends should. That should be enough. I should be happy that he's a part of my life now – my mystery man.

The Swooner.

His heart is broken and yet he goes on, his family sent him away and yet he looks forward, his friends abandoned him and yet he trudges onward. He's determined to make himself better than the sum of his parts, and forge a life for himself despite being tragically afflicted and likely doomed to an early death. He's inspirational and secluded, humorous and sullen, and I-

I like him, okay?

I don't think I want to just be his friend, but we're stuck in this perpetually broken relationship. Anytime we come close to a breakthrough, we both push away. Every time I think I understand him, more questions spawn, and I have to fight them off without understanding the game. I don't know what the rules are for this kind of thing, and it's increasingly frustrating trying to come up with answers.

Can I just ask him?

I look over at him, face buried in his History book, scrawling notes absently with that narrowed look on his face, and I wonder what he's really thinking. I can see beads of sweat forming along his brow, and the hair around his face is slightly damp from perspiration. His brown eyes are intense and unwavering when he gets like this, and it's endearing seeing him so focused. He's staring so intently that he doesn't seem to have noticed the heat.

Remember when you used to be able to focus on studying?

Over the course of the afternoon, the library has been getting increasingly warmer; the cool air from the morning slowly being pushed away as the sun beats through the windows. Now that I've noticed it, I realize how uncomfortable I am; I can feel my neck is drenched wherever my hair holds the heat, and the wooden chairs feel even less comfortable than normal. Everything about being in this situation has become uncomfortable, and I want nothing more than to get out of this oppressive room, so I tap the table with my finger to get his attention.

He looks up at me with a start, and runs his hand across his brow reflexively. I lean back and smile, saying, “I think we should get some air.”

He nods and agrees happily, “good idea.”

He starts gathering up his notes and books, and I do the same. His eyes connect with mine for a moment, but we're still picking up notes and books, so our attention is diverted. The smile on his face is wistful as I heft my bag up onto my shoulder and look up at him.

He has that same dumb smile he gets whenever we're about to leave the pool – like there's one more thing he wants to say. I almost want to scream at him to just say whatever it is and be done with it, but I don't want this conversation to start off adversarial.

This is the wrong time to ask.

I start walking between the bookshelves toward the main room of the library, and he walks behind me through the narrow corridor. I keep thinking I should say something and my mouth moves like it might just do that of its own volition, but I restrain myself.

When we exit into the main room of the library, I notice Yuuko still behind her desk and offer her a nod as we pass by, but she doesn't seem to notice. When we're out in the hall outside the library, I stop and wait while he walks over to buy some drinks from the nearby vending machine. I adjust my grip on my bag and wait patiently, trying to think of a conversation starter.

As he hands me the grape soda, my favorite, our fingers touch and his hand lingers. I feel the heat from his hand and I swear I can feel his heartbeat racing through his fingers for a split second. I retract my hand and almost drop the soda, surprised by the sensation. For a few moments the tactile sensation of our fingers meeting runs over me, and I feel a flutter of my heart – just like at the festival.

Did he feel it too?

I don't get the chance to find out as a booming, “Wahaha~!” echoes through the hall from behind us and I fumble with the soda again, flinching from the sound. I immediately know we won't be having this discussion today, and I'm almost glad for the tension breaker – glad and perturbed.

Misha fills the hall with her reverberating laugh as she and Shizune stalk down the hallway. We both turn to face them hesitantly as her lilting voice fills our ears. “Hicchan~! Aiko-chan~! We're glad we caught you~!” she practically yells as they approach; the distance apparently signaling that she should talk louder than normal. I think I hear some clattering silverware coming from the cafeteria on the other side of the school.

And my ears had just stopped ringing from the encounter with Kenji...

Hisao looks a little bewildered, but he greets them warmly. “Um, hi Misha,” he says, and he bows toward Shizune. Her grin is broadened by his greeting, and she even blushes a little bit. I wonder if she really is pursuing Hisao as I'd suspected – she hasn't been very forthcoming about her intention.

Quickly realizing I'm watching her, she snaps her finger -an effective distraction- and starts signing as Misha booms, “Hicchan~! We have Student Council business. and we need your help.”

Oh, well, that's reasonable.

Hisao folds his arms and looks at her with a cross expression before inquiring, “now? Today?”

Shizune continues her signing and Misha translates, “no, but we'll be starting tomorrow afternoon and wanted you to know ahead of time.” Misha points at Hisao as she finishes speaking, and he wilts a little at the prospect.

Mulling it over for a moment, Hisao responds with a quick, “tomorrow, then?” He usually just goes with it when they request something outside his usual duties – it's just easier.

Being honest, Student Council work agrees with him. It keeps him busy, he says, when he'd otherwise just be shoving his head in another science-fiction novel. He was worried the library would run out of new books for him to devour and isn't thrilled with the idea of having to start reading non-fiction; I remember just feeling bewildered when he explained how quickly he reads.

Was he always an avid reader?

“Starting after class,” Misha replies, still translating for Shizune, “and probably for the rest of the week. Tanabata is coming up fast and we need to get some building done.”

Shizune then leans toward me and bumps Misha, quickly signing, [your help won't be necessary.] Misha lets out a stifled giggle and glances at Hisao. He responds with a quick glance of his own.

What was that look?

I frown at her cold statement. Shizune is basically telling me not to interfere; perhaps even to stay away. I'm not sure where this came from suddenly; she's hardly brought up our little war in weeks. Maybe she thought I was too far ahead after I started swimming with Hisao. Right now, she's playing a card of her own, and she's stacking the deck – which isn't really like her.

Maybe she's desperate?

Realizing I have the next move, I decide to let her have her subterfuge. “That's fine,” I say, “I have studying to do with Amaya, so you can steal him away for a while; I won't mind.” While Misha is turned to sign what I said, I sign to Shizune, [I'll be watching you.] Hisao looks at me sidelong as I sign, but doesn't look terribly offended – he might just think I'm clarifying something.

She gives me that bobcat grin and her eyes light up; the challenge shifting her competitive side into top gear. She turns to Misha and signs furiously. Misha tentatively starts relaying the information, “because of upcoming tests and lax study habits, Misha won't be joining us,” she looks bewildered and adds, “wait I'm Misha.” Her frown makes me want to hug her all of a sudden. “Shicchan is right, though, Wahaha~!” her laugh is a little more subdued than normal, almost stilted.

Hisao cracks a smile for a moment, then frowns. “So it'll be just Shizune and I?” he asks.

Misha nods. “I have to catch up on a few things I've been neglecting, so I won't be able to help – that's why we need you, Hicchan~!”

Oh... Oh! Dammit...

“Alright, that's fine, but...” Hisao replies, then tenses and looks at Misha again. He nods toward her, and Misha grins, but quickly looks around nervously and frowns.

Wait... what?

He motions toward the alcove with the vending machines, and they wander over for a private discussion. I'm a little dumbstruck, and, seeing Shizune's expression, I can tell she's equally confused. She sees me looking and crosses her arms in mock-confidence, but I can tell neither of us has any idea what Misha and Hisao are conspiring about, and that worries me.

Is this a war on three fronts, now?

After a few minutes of hushed whispering -which I wasn't sure Misha was actually capable of- they walk back out from the little alcove wearing stilted smiles. Neither of them makes any motion to explain their little sidebar, and that leaves Shizune and I to glance at each-other with mutually dumb expressions. Misha signs to Shizune, [it's nothing,] but doesn't actually speak.

I look at Hisao expectantly, but he's equally silent. Whatever they just absconded over to discuss is apparently between them, and neither Shizune nor I are privy to the details. I give him a frustrated look, but he just grins at me, rubbing his sternum -his scar- the way he does when he gets nervous.

Misha's sudden, “Wahaha~!” laugh fills the air, and I turn my attention back to the pair.

Shizune starts signing and Misha translates again, “Hicchan~! I'll see you tomorrow after class,” Misha grins nervously and clarifies, “Shicchan will, I mean.”

Hisao nods and waves at Shizune, indicating his understanding. Her eyes look to me, then to me, and back to Hisao before she returns the nod and starts turning to walk away. Before leaving, Misha grins a toothy grin and folds her arms. “She's gonna flip over your surprise~!” she giggles and nods at Hisao, then turns to catch up with Shizune.

Surprise?

Darkness clouds my eyes as I turn a glare on Hisao more penetrating and sullen than ever before, and he wilts under my scrutinizing gaze. I frown deeply, shooting daggers at his eyes when he reflexively holds a hand up as though I might slap him. I control that urge, though, and instead just hold the stare as he stammers, “s-see you then,” to the departing pair. They probably can't hear him.

I hear Deaf-charge and Drill Sergeant walking away, but I continue staring at Hisao; focusing on his paling expression. As if suddenly realizing he doesn't want to be in a hallway with me alone, he quickly grins in an attempt to disarm my building rage, and starts trying to brush past me.

“Halt!” I yell, and he stops.

You're not going anywhere.

“Yes ma'am,” he replies.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs completely before puffing my cheeks and blowing it out slowly. He stands there, frozen in place, when I open my eyes. His smile is gone; replaced by a bewildered frown.

While I momentarily feel bad because I prefer to see him smile, there's a question I have to ask and his answer had better be good, or I'm taking Tadao up on his offer to have Hisao's body buried somewhere deep in the woods. I calmly begin speaking, trying to sound sweet, though the amount of venom in my voice is quite apparent, “what's the surprise?”

This is my murder-face.

He blanches and tries to look past me in an attempt to not immediately cast his gaze downward. It's strange to feel this kind of power over him; he's probably got forty pounds on me, and even with his heart condition he could overpower me easily. That tendency isn't even whispering at the corners of his consciousness, though, I know, and I feel perfectly safe levying an accusatory stare at his deep brown eyes.

He finally straightens up and thrusts his hands down, taking a breath to steady his speech, “I've been taking sign-language classes,” he says flatly, ending with a smirk.

I raise an eyebrow at the crack in his voice, but my expression is starting to soften. “Misha's been tutoring me, too,” he explains, averting his eyes, but I'm slowly starting to smile. He continues his explanation, “I didn't want to bring it up to Shizune until I was actually decent at it, but working alone with her will kinda force my hand.”

I'm a complete jerk...

The anger is gone, just like that. “That's all?” I ask, and he nods. “Wow, I feel like jerk...”

“No, it's okay, I should have told you. I know you sign,” he explains, “and that's partially why I learned, too,” he adds. I try not look accusatory at the obvious consolation; there's no need for him to learn sign on my account. I keep that thought internal, though. He continues to explain, “I kinda thought it might be useful under water.”

“Right, if we wanna burn our retinas with chlorine,” I comment, and he shrugs.

Just to test him, I quickly sign, [your hair is messy.]

“My hair is always messy,” he protests.

[Just testing you,] I explain.

He smirks and signs back, [would I lie to you?]

“You better not,” I say, smirking, [I know people who know people.] I look around with shifty eyes, and he starts laughing. I center a glare on him and he quickly stops. Giggling, I comment, “you're pretty good at it already – only been learning for what like a month?”

“Around that, yeah,” he states.

[We could talk around Amaya,] I sign, but he looks at me, confused.

“Tongue-sticker?” he asks.

I gleefully respond, “Amaya, silly.” I make the sign again, adding, “that's how Tadao and I sign Amaya's name.”

He closes his eyes and starts chuckling softly as he considers the name. “Does she know?” he asks.

“Would you tell her?” I ask plainly.

He narrows his eyes to mull over the implications and quickly responds, “no, I suppose I wouldn't.”

We both start walking toward the stairs then, in silence. As we walk I recall what I was going to try and ask him, but I still don't feel it's the right timing. Considering how I reacted to the mere mention of him possibly gifting something to Shizune, I'm surprised at myself. I was trembling with rage. I had not reacted to anything that strongly since he told me about skipping the festival. This time, it was much more visceral. I was jealous and hurt by the thought he might be considering another girl, even though our relationship is decidedly stagnant.

Is it really, though?

Something needs to happen to get us out of this rut, and if it isn't going to come from our friends, then I'll have to create that opportunity myself. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to go about that. For our whole walk back to the dorms, I quietly think and glance and wonder and surmise, but none of it leads anywhere. We've been seeing each-other almost every day for a month, but I don't feel any closer; if anything I'm even further away. I don't fault him for not telling me about learning sign, but it still irks me that he wouldn't share something so trivial with me – and nearly let it turn into an argument.

Okay, I was overreacting.

When I reach my room, I lock my door to prevent incursions from Tongue-sticker and sit down at my desk, powering on my laptop to play Call of Duty for the first time in weeks. I need to clear my head, and mindlessly blasting through German troops is quite effective in that respect. Keeping an eye on the clock between raids, I'm sure not to stay up too late.

As I crawl into bed, I quietly hope sleep allows my mind to refresh. I need to find the surface of this stagnant pool I comically refer to as my relationship with Hisao, so we can break out of the dissonance. Hopefully something comes to me soon, or I might lose my chance and have to forever wonder what might have been – a quantum reality that never had a chance to exist.

Shizune is going down, somehow. Oh... dirty mind.
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Chapter 10: http://pastebin.com/wHr7G5XX