ED: OK, so our objective in this school cum hospital is to graduate with better health. I know making friends are important, but surviving is kinda integral with that too. So. Let's take up the creepy nurse's suggestion. Or maybe just give him lip service. I dunno, he totally freaked me out.
He studies me for a moment and then shrugs, smiling again.
Okay. That's more like it.
If you go to the school track tomorrow morning, you'll meet my 'spy,' who probably has no qualms offering consultation to you if you want to jog a bit.
ED: I think I know who it is.
Consultation?
See you around.
He leaves with a wave of his hand and no answer, and I walk to Rin who has been waiting, idly leaning against the hallway wall and staring at the pale lighting fixtures in the ceiling.
Even when I approach, she doesn't move her eyes off them.
Are you getting augmentations for your heart thingy?
Were you listening?
ED: Eh, lay off the girl, dude.
It comes out more accusatory than I intended, accidentally lashing out on her.
But even so, I don't really want to start talking about it. I just met her, I don't know her. It's not her business.
ED: What's the harm?
The nurse seems to be happily ignorant about confidentiality too, talking about that kind of thing in public.
But it's not Rin's fault, is it?
ED: Good, you're learning.
I look up at her, suddenly feeling a bit guilty, but Rin is just staring past my shoulder quizzically, her head tilted like a bird's.
ED: She's different. Just be more casual, you don't need to be so edgy around her.
Sigh.
I don't know why this is so hard for me. It feels like there is some inexplicable lock that prevents me from being more upfront about this.
...yeah. They're for my heart.
ED: My augmentations, let me show you them.
...no, not really. They just make me a little less worse.
Rin keeps looking at me for a while longer, and she neither says anything further, nor displays any kind of emotion I could discern.
I'm thankful that she doesn't. I think I'm still not quite used to all this.
At the hospital it was easy, but I still haven't sorted my feelings about having to live a "normal" life with this disability.
We leave the main building, and Rin leads us onwards towards the dorm.
We stop at the small patch of greenery in front of the dorm building.
The dorm is built on a slightly elevated ground, with a wall and a few trees that everyone has to circle around every time they come or go. It's probably the only inconvenient design in the school.
The entire wall, made of the same kind of bricks as the building itself, has been covered with some sort of painting.
Most of it is still mere sketches, quick lines drawn with black and white against the gray plastering that covers almost the entire length of the wall, but some places look a bit more finished.
There are human faces and legs and hands, I can't quite say what the painting as a whole might portray.
Stacks of what seem to be paint cans are arranged in piles on the ground, beside the wall.
It's because I couldn't get in the mood yesterday so I gave up and went to meditate instead. Then it was suddenly morning.
ED: Yeah, I have the same problem while doing updates too.
I have to work on it, but the guys from art class are helping with the negative spaces and base surfaces whenever, which is a problem.
ED: Eh?
It's easier to paint big areas if there are a lot of people, with hands.
The reach is better, and it's faster too.
She goes on a tangent of a tangent, waving a little with her arm, or whatever of it there actually is, to demonstrate even though I got the point already.
The while cotton of her sleeve flaps around, and it makes me think it could look sadder than it does.
But it makes me feel out of place, like almost every tangible reminder of the student base's...special properties has in the past few days.
This girl doesn't notice my dreary feelings of course, or the fact that she lost me a while ago already...and just keeps on blabbering.
...so that's why I'm trying to figure out if there is something I need to figure out and then figure that out before it's too late and all hope is lost.
ED: ..this is getting stupid.
Why would the hope be lost?
ED: OK.
Because paint has to be painted and then it has to dry and then it has to be painted over with another kind of paint.
It takes time.
She finally stops, apparently thinking she made some kind of a statement that makes sense.
I think it's best to start from the top.
So, this is your project? You did...this?
Yes. Yes.
All of it?
Yes.
ED: I hope this conversation goes somewhere.
Nice. But...
ED: But what? Seriously!
I stumble with my words, suddenly feeling like I've walked straight into the mine field of political incorrectness.
It's ok, you can say it. I probably won't get mad.
I blush really hard. I don't really know what would be the right thing to say, if any. It feels that I'm way more sensitive than Rin is, though.
ED: Come the fuck on.
This is really awkward.
Don't you want to ask?
How do you paint without hands?
ED: *picard-double-face-palm* Are you DENSE? Are you just retarded? She has goddamn feet, man!
See, I'm an easy person to talk to, right? With my feet.
I almost guessed that already, but isn't that hard to do?
You're good at guessing. Anyway, I don't think it is. But maybe I'm used to it by now.
I can't get my mind around the fact that she could be an artist, but seeing how adept she was using her feet to eat I figure painting might not be a problem either.
Neither of us has anything more to add to the subject.
The afternoon light works pretty well. I was afraid it would look too flat but it's not like that after all.
I think it's actually pretty interesting. I wanted to see what it looks like in dim light. Do you think it's flat?
Eeeh well, paintings tend to be flat.
ED: This guy...
Not like that flat. You know, flat. Like some people are, no substance, no meat where there should be some.
I know a few girls who-
Okay I get it. But I couldn't really tell, I'm not that good with art. I can't name many artists or artistic terms.
So I don't really have anything to say.
ED: Wow. You're Japanese and can't even name 2 people who illustrated your mangas? Goddamn.
Rin shrugs her shoulders at that, saying "suit yourself" without saying it and looks up at the sky as if trying to look for something up there.
I didn't think I'd get any actual work done but if you give me a hand with the paints I could do a little before it's too dark.
I wanted to get a halogen lamp like the ones they have at the sports track but there aren't any.
Rin sure is quick to recruit my help, as was Shizune. It really makes me feel that the festival is such a big project that every pair of hands is needed.
ED: Eh, stick around. You've got nothing better to do anyway.
Why not? I'm not really sure if I can be of any help, though.
It's just mixing some paints, you can do that. Probably. Do you have motor control problems, like you know, those people who have some?
ED: Better hurry before she burns your ego again.
Cerebral palsy, maybe?
Not that I know of.
I get it. Heart thingy has nothing to do with that.
She gives me a sly look for no reason.
No it doesn't.
Let's do it then.
So she sits on an empty wooden box and very naturally picks up a wide brush between the toes of her bare right foot.
I open a few of the cans and pour some of the contents into shallow bowls for mixing.
The thick paints flow lazily from the can to the bowl, like syrup.
I mix them, creating funny, hypnotic looking swirl patterns that melt quickly into each other to form a new monotone hue.
Rin sets to work, every now and then asking me for a hand with something or the other.
Finding different brushes is easy enough, but mixing the paints to be the exact tone this girl is apparently seeing in her head is a frustrating ordeal.
She wants precision down to the last mililiter before she is satisfied, but her instructions are obscure at best.
I crouch down to pick up the can of bright green.
The other green. This green.
I carefully pour some of the other green paint into the mixing bowl.
No, that's almost a whole splash. More white.
Is green a good color to add?
No idea. You're the artist here.
A hint of smile appears in the corners of her mouth.
Do you lack an opinion.
No, it's just that I have no idea.
It's OK, because I just got an idea. Add more white.
With this exclamation, I pour a miniscule amount of white into the bowl and mix it. It looks slightly...whiter.
That's not good. It has to be like...like the color when you wake up and you know that you saw the meaning of life in your dream but can't remember it.
ED: Buh.
Maybe it's yellow.
Despite the impossibility of mixing a color like the change of seasons or any other nonsense that's being imposed on me, I find myself enjoying it more than I thought I would.
Seeing a painting being born on the plastered wall feels like magic.
I spend the moments I have between mixing paints crouching down on the paving and just looking at her work.
It feels slightly intrusive at first, like breaking some imaginary intimacy, but Rin doesn't seem to mind the least bit. Maybe it's just in my head.
Her entire presence emits a completely different air as she patiently works the details, adding layers of paint on top of other layers of paint, steadily moving her foot across the all to add new shapes.
When I manage to produce a passable mixture of paint, the rare smile on her face is oddly rewarding.
Apart from the few words when discussing paint mixes, neither of us says a word for the longest time.
And even those short discussions soon evolve into a shorthand, both of us developing and using weird impromptu code words for various paints and hues.
ED: Goatse pink. Cock brown. KKK white.
As if there was some need to conserve words and breath and sound.
Day 4
The sound of an alarm pulls me out of a fitful slumber and into the unpleasant state of wakefulness.
I linger under the blanket for a few minutes, gathering energy to rise up while making excuses as for why I already haven't.
Honestly, I wouldn't mind staying here for all day. School is surprisingly exhausting after a long pause, and the culture shock still has not faded, I think.
Still, despite getting an impression that skipping class is easy here, I don't think they are going to let me get away with that easily.
And the nurse is bound to keep breathing down my neck with the talk of exercising as well.
ED: I don't think we want to have a private session in the pool with him. So let's get up.
So eventually I do rise up, swallow the morning meds and put on my old soccer jersey.
Thanks to my condition, I was exempted from taking part in gym classes at Yamaku, so I didn't get issued with a gym outfit.
I'd order some to cover such a contingency, but wearing my old soccer outfit is kind of nostalgic.
I can't use them for that any more, so maybe they can get a new life this way. A bit like me.
After all, if I'm going to start taking care of my self, I can't afford to slack around. I'll start from the basic.
Basics which include keeping the rest of my body in shape along with what little I can do to strengthen my heart.
ED: That's good...
Maybe then I can go back to something approaching a normal life; or at least something where I'm less likely to fall over dead at any minute.
Later, at the school field...
I'm surprised to discover that I'm not the only present at the track.
Not just that, but it's a face I've seen before.
The prosthetic-legged girl who bowled me over in the hallway yesterday is running on the track lithely, like a half mechanical gazelle.
What was her name again? It was a short one, but I can't remember.
ED: ...Jeez. It's Emi.
She seems to be running laps at a somewhat easy lope, her prosthetics legs clacking rhythmically on the hard track surface.
I wonder what reason she has for running this early in the morning. Maybe it's something akin to mine, and the nurse is oppressing the poor girl to jog just like he is oppressing me.
I certainly wouldn't be here if it weren't for my health, and his prompting me to do so.
ED: Suck it up, already. Come on!
And even with things being like they are, it's only because I wanted to get it out of the way early.
The fact that I would be less likely to encounter someone who would witness my pitiful attempts to get in shape was merely a happy accident.
I'd leave, but it seems that my former assailant noticed me on her last lap.
She waves at me cheerfully and jogs over.
Music:
Konjad's Winged Fantasy
She grins, seemingly pleased that she'd remembered my name.
ED: I think my sugar level just increased.
You may not remember me.
Emi? I knocked you over in the hall yesterday.
How could I forget such a er, blunt introduction?
Emi has the decency to look vaguely apologetic for a moment before giggling.
Yeah, sorry about that. Again.
Hmm, well, so long as you don't make a habit of it, I suppose I'll be fine.
Great!
I'm not sure she realized I was joking.
So the 'spy-consultant' the nurse was talking about...is that actually you?
That's right!
Oh.
I was expecting someone from the nursing staff, to be honest.
What, are you saying I don't look like I could be a spy?
No, this is more like a relief. I was afraid he would have someone to watch my every move.
Unless you are here to do exactly that.
No, I'm here for my own reasons, the nurse just asked me if I had seen a messy-haired transfer student who looks like he's 'kinda lost' around the track.
So why are you down here?
Emi strikes a dramatic pose.
Training!
For what?
Track!
Ah, I see. You're on the track team, then?
Emi nods enthusiastically.
Yep! I'm one of the better runners, too!
ED: Let me reach for my insulin.
And modest about it, too.
Hey, you should join up!
It's a good exercise, you know.
I think that much activity is probably out of the question for me.
Nah, I'm not even sure I really like running all that much.
Plus I'm just not into organized sports, you know?
It's true. I never even really got that much into soccer.
I mean I'd run around with my friends and all, but that was really the only reason I ever played.
It wasn't for the glory to be found on the field, that's for sure.
Emi seems to understand my meaning.
I see, I see. Not that into the whole organization thing.
But now that you're here, I guess we're going to run together, huh?
ED: ...Ok..*stabs insulin needle* Deep breaths...
What? Er, sure, I guess.
Emi seems pleased.
Are you going to warm up?
ED: You wanna watch?
Real men don't warm up.
ED: OK. Try not to scream like a girl when you pull a muscle.
Oh no, you always should warm up! Bad Hisao!
ED: ..spank m- Oh, no no. I meant nothing like that.
She scholds me enthusiastically, but then smiles and leans closer.
ED: ...Mmmrglgmbles..
ED: Any time now...the undercover feds would come out and handcuff us. We'll be back! Now, I'll go for my Saturday morning jog. Since Emi is encouraging me. Cya!
