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SEVEN VICES, WEEK 1, WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON
Feb. 18th, 2016 12:50 am[Wednesday is when Takao really loses it and starts wishing he could have activity so much as to attend class. It's been bad. This is like the whole last part of ninth grade after getting back from summer vacation, all over again: Exercising alone and then nothing, literally no serious competition until he got into high school. There were trading cards and English lessons, sure, but that wasn't the same as something meaningful.
He's in his room after lunch, in front of the closet, wondering whether a hat will at all help his ears to stop ringing with the sounds that fill the spaces between seconds. This is stupid. He saunters into the hallway and leans presumptuously on the doorway right across from his. Bright colors. Visual stimulation. That's the best idea he's had all year... he means all day. He can't wait for her to correct him when he says shit like that.]
Whatcha doing on that thing, Miss Vice President?
He's in his room after lunch, in front of the closet, wondering whether a hat will at all help his ears to stop ringing with the sounds that fill the spaces between seconds. This is stupid. He saunters into the hallway and leans presumptuously on the doorway right across from his. Bright colors. Visual stimulation. That's the best idea he's had all year... he means all day. He can't wait for her to correct him when he says shit like that.]
Whatcha doing on that thing, Miss Vice President?
SEVEN VICES, WEEK 1, WEDNESDAY EVENING
Feb. 18th, 2016 12:29 amOn Wednesday, it gets REALLY bad. On Wednesday, during dinner alone, it's been like a month. Actually, after dinner is entirely over, he starts to wonder if two months will be more accurate. There's a day where the dishes are getting done, and nobody wants to separate from someone else, but there's nothing left to do, so they're standing there, bored - and Takao has to get away so he bravely takes the journey up the stairs. There's someone whose offer he hasn't taken up, when she's been so kind to the others, he realizes.
He heads up to her room, identified easily enough on the first floor they share, and knocks on her door.
"Hi there, Sisuca-san. Have you been well and all?"
He heads up to her room, identified easily enough on the first floor they share, and knocks on her door.
"Hi there, Sisuca-san. Have you been well and all?"
SEVEN VICES, WEEK 1, MONDAY EVENING
Feb. 18th, 2016 12:05 amTakao feels terrible as he goes up the stairs after dinner. Even physiologically, in the world of the flesh where it's been exactly one day, his schedule has been all thrown off. No running in the morning, no pool exercise at any time in the day - and dinner does nothing to make matters better. It sits strangely in his stomach, with the gap growing between his eyes and his brain and that clock. There's no helping this. He can't go out for an evening run.
That's the only reason he's not going back outside, he tells himself as he ascends the stairs. Nothing to do with the situation. He won't even think about it. "The killing game"? Yeah, no, those words don't mean anything. It's only a game if nobody gets hurt. After that happens, you get some other shitty thing that doesn't even deserve a name. By the time he's on the landing, Takao has noticed the time getting distinctly worse. He's faintly afraid of what will happen when he falls asleep. How will his nightmares feel? Can he finally get time to seem like it's flying instead of dragging? Or will he spend entire days listening to the sound of Shin-chan's tears hitting the ground, in the dark hallway, without seeing his face? The first week feels so funny now, how he'd thought they had never before been apart for so long.
In this terrible transition from tenfold to hundredfold fugue, he sees the shadows stretched out by the moonlight on the cheap carpet several subjective seconds before making the connection to their owner: Youko, where she rather reasonably belongs on the first floor. Animal metaphors are pretty common in the Japanese high school boys basketball scene; he hasn't heard of any foxes, though. Takao wonders, with her budgeting and cunning, whether she would make a good manager. Greed is better for that than Wrath, but makes coach seem like a slightly unlikelier position. It's a good idea to keep in the back of his mind; talking to her is an immediate even better one, he concludes, just about an hour after leaving everybody downstairs.
"Ready to get some nice, refreshing sleep, Youko-san?"
That's the only reason he's not going back outside, he tells himself as he ascends the stairs. Nothing to do with the situation. He won't even think about it. "The killing game"? Yeah, no, those words don't mean anything. It's only a game if nobody gets hurt. After that happens, you get some other shitty thing that doesn't even deserve a name. By the time he's on the landing, Takao has noticed the time getting distinctly worse. He's faintly afraid of what will happen when he falls asleep. How will his nightmares feel? Can he finally get time to seem like it's flying instead of dragging? Or will he spend entire days listening to the sound of Shin-chan's tears hitting the ground, in the dark hallway, without seeing his face? The first week feels so funny now, how he'd thought they had never before been apart for so long.
In this terrible transition from tenfold to hundredfold fugue, he sees the shadows stretched out by the moonlight on the cheap carpet several subjective seconds before making the connection to their owner: Youko, where she rather reasonably belongs on the first floor. Animal metaphors are pretty common in the Japanese high school boys basketball scene; he hasn't heard of any foxes, though. Takao wonders, with her budgeting and cunning, whether she would make a good manager. Greed is better for that than Wrath, but makes coach seem like a slightly unlikelier position. It's a good idea to keep in the back of his mind; talking to her is an immediate even better one, he concludes, just about an hour after leaving everybody downstairs.
"Ready to get some nice, refreshing sleep, Youko-san?"
SEVEN VICES, WEEK 1, MONDAY AFTERNOON
Feb. 17th, 2016 10:37 pmThe motive announcement has taken a golf club to the knees of Takao's morning workout routine. Now that the questions are asked and answered and hours (well, according to that dumb new clock, barely an hour and a half) have passed, the original logic has been lost to "running before breakfast" (with breakfast consumed), let alone the pool after that. Going in the completely chlorinated water when the mere air around him is a little like molasses - nah. Might as well run outside, get his blood pumping louder (it's already audible) with the thrill of the chill.
And before long he sees Undyne on the rooftop. He stops with his hand on his hip and feels like he spends a long time regarding her before drawing the conclusion to let out an amicable call.
"How are you doing up there?"
And before long he sees Undyne on the rooftop. He stops with his hand on his hip and feels like he spends a long time regarding her before drawing the conclusion to let out an amicable call.
"How are you doing up there?"
