Chapter Text
leo/need
hoshino ichika - quiet
"i want something more than, more than restless mornings, getting by's so boring" - mxmtoon
It's all she's ever been really, her only friends never lasted. Her parents always encouraged her to reach out and talk, but they couldn't see how hard it was for her. Perhaps it was the kids. After Saki left, Honami and Shiho left, the other kids teased and made fun of her. But she was powerless to do anything, she could barely get a sound out let alone a word or even a sentence. She was also too weak to even be physical, it wasn't ever in her anyways. Saki was the glue that held them all together and kept them close. It's weird really, none of the four were anything like each other and yet they were friends until they weren't. Or perhaps it was her. Though she tried to reach out, it never worked and her attempts left her standing there as she watched them walk in two directions. Not that she could even say anything anyway, she was still a stumbling stuttering mess when she tried to ask them. Ask them why they weren't talking, why they didn't like her anymore.
Eventually, she decided to stop trying. Stop talking altogether and isolate herself. She didn't have any outside worries but passing by the other two only left her both nostalgic and even worse than she was. Maybe she never showed that she ever had any outside social problems, but every day the gnawing numbing feeling that never sat right with her only grew more and more. Some days it was hard to get up and some days she couldn't at all. Her grades were average and she didn't want to anymore. She couldn't do anything.
Some days she could merely lay in her bed all day, let alone change her clothes or brush her teeth. She mostly slept, studied, and ate. There wasn't much else to do. Sure she could go out and get a job but that would require too much effort that she wasn't willing to put in. Her hobbies became bland and boring, sure, she loved playing her guitar but she couldn't even look at it sometimes, let alone pick it up off its stand and play it.
When Saki returned, she first thought it was a fever dream. She thought that she was deemed 'incurable' and had to live her life in a hospital forever. Guess she was wrong. Sometimes she used a cane or crutches. Other days she used a wheelchair. Something happened to her legs but she didn't care, she was still the same old Saki. Not that she cared of course, Saki was too busy catching up with other people. Apparently from passersby, the hospital wasn't fun.
She wanted to talk to her, but she was so preoccupied with the other students. Her hair was usually braided, which she managed to remember to change about once a week, after her weekly shower. Though despite all the attention Saki got, she didn't see Honami or Shiho talking to her. Perhaps they were afraid, perhaps they didn't care.
This didn't go on for long, as Saki approached her one day after the initial shock she gave upon her return died down. She tried to make small talk, but once again, she couldn't say anything further than a mere "yes" or "no", and even those words came out in pitiful stutters. Her palms sweat and her heart pounded. Her throat was probably closing up and she forgot to breathe for a minute. Saki finally leaves as another student grabs her attention and Ichika can only slump back down on her desk as she breathes a sigh of relief.
No matter what she did, it wasn't enough. Talking was hard so it was best she kept quiet.
And then she met Miku.
tenma saki - expensive
"can I have a moment, before I go,' cause I've been by myself all night long" - adele
After she collapsed in physical education, the immediate moments were a blur. First she's narrowly missing a ball in dodgeball, next she's on the floor. There was a man strapping her in a bed. She remembers the lights inside the vehicle as she's whisked away. Next she's in a bed as her mother answers questions to a man in a white coat, someone she only assumes to be a doctor. Her first solid memory after is her asking her family what happened to her. Asking what was wrong with her. Apparently from the dozens of tests they did on her, even the doctors don't know what was wrong with her. Despite that, she is told that she has to regain strength to return to normal. Simple enough.
It wasn't. Some days she could barely sit up and had to be sat up manually by the hospital bed, and even then sometimes she could barely hold the remote to adjust it. She'd have to embarrassingly ask a nurse or doctor or god forbid her family to sit her up and lay her down. She could barely feel her legs, even during the early stages of therapy. If she even tried to stand, she'd topple over. Her arms- her arms were thin and bony, they didn't have any fat or muscle on them. She was just skin and bone. She could barely get herself from her bed to her wheelchair, forgetting about another chair.
At least her nurses were nice, her doctors were alright, but were too old to remember what was wrong with her body. It was her legs and arms that needed help, not her ears. Over and over she heard them tell her parents how much money they had to spend. Over the years the price rose and rose but her parents never said anything about it. She knew they felt bad about it though, she saw the way their heads drooped and how they stood a little shorter. She never asked for much around her birthday or other various holidays, her parents had spent enough on her to last a few lifetimes. A notebook and pencils here, some stickers there. Nothing too expensive and not much either. Sure they told her to want more, but she just felt so guilty. She has no idea where the money came from, her best guess being her and her brother's college fund, maybe their retirement money even. Adding all the numbers got too hard and they got too big for her to even try to calculate.
She watched the other sick kids play around, but some were too young and some were too old. There weren't a lot of kids her age, and if there were, they didn't stay for very long. Her only real source of entertainment that didn't come from TV shows or movies was her brother. She loved seeing him every weekend, he'd stay for as long as possible. He wasn't ever able to be there on weekdays, but she was glad that he cared to show up even as he got older.
Going back to school brought other challenges, however. It had been years since she had interacted with other kids, ones her age even. People didn't like how some days she put an emergency mobility aid like her cane or crutches in her locker just for emergencies, and then other days she could barely stand and had to be in a wheelchair. It was okay though, her arms were stronger again after she regained strength so she never needed help wheeling herself around. Even though everything was overwhelming, it was okay. Nothing seemed to be out of place.
And then she saw what became of her friends.
mochizuki honami - altruistic
"but i cut people out, like tags on my clothing, i end up all alone, but i still keep hoping" - conan gray
She didn't do it on purpose. It wasn't ever her intention. But it happened anyway. Here she is, the same old Honami pushing people away. She wasn't trying to hurt Ichika or Shiho, but she did anyway.
A remark there and a comment here. It just kept building. She felt bad about what she said, half of it wasn't even true. Though there were hints of truth in what she said, it didn't make it any better.
So she tried to redeem herself, by helping others instead of hurting. Perhaps she should've been helping Ichika and Shiho, in which she saw their personalities change. She could only wonder if she was the cause of that change. She helped them with their homework and classwork. Had them understand which formulated equation they should use to solve a mathematics problem or understand the different protein functions in biology. Late was the only word to describe her nights. The nights she spent working ahead as far as she could and the hours that continued to tick forward. She forced herself to understand the material, even if it meant falling asleep during her lunch period or study hall. She already knew the material and did the work anyway.
Some kids even made her do their homework, a math paper here and a grammar quiz there. The kids never paid her or even said thank you, but to her, it was helping. Helping was the only thing she knew how to properly do. Occasionally she'd have to write full-length essays for kids. Sometimes due the next morning. She learned to forge handwriting and writing styles. But the comments about her never stopped.
No matter how hard she tried, the other kids wouldn't stop talking about her. They called her "two-faced" and "disloyal". Not that it mattered anyway, she wasn't trying to be two-faced or disloyal. She just wanted what was best for them.
But that didn't make it any easier.
She didn't really have any hobbies as a kid, sure, as a kid everyone would play their instruments, but it was more banging around on the drums and strumming strings that weren't even chords. It may not have sounded beautiful, but it was fun nonetheless.
She decided to throw herself back into drumming, nothing super serious but occasionally she'd stay after school and play a bit. She studied rhythms and beats. She practiced triplets and quavers even though she couldn't go very fast. At least banging on a surface that wasn't her head on her desk at home was better. She did feel a bit calmer after those sessions. The sounds were loud and she could feel every vibration rush through her from the drumstick tips to the ends of her hair. She let her hair down and sometimes she just started hitting the drums without a rhythm. She just needed to move and hit something but she couldn't take it out on others and she wasn't strong enough to be a boxer or take martial arts. Sure she was stronger than average but not by much.
Drumming was her escape from society and the pressure she felt.
And then something changed that next year.
hinomori shiho - abrasive
after a while you went quiet and I got mean, i'm always pushing you away from me, but you come back with gravity -phoebe bridgers
She wasn't trying to push them away, it just sort of- happened. She wasn't sure what to talk about any time Honami tried to approach her. It felt awkward and strained. Ichika seemed concerned, just because Shiho was quiet didn't mean she was an airhead. Ichika talked even less than she did, and that said a lot. She also seemed numb all the time. Blank expressions and zoning out. She kept falling asleep in class too. If anything, she likely had depression and anxiety probably went with it.
Not having anyone to talk to was fine for her, she didn't have to force the words out and was able to keep to herself. Talking was hard enough as is and she did not need any more problems. She hated skirts, the bare feeling she couldn't stand but hated leggings and tights as well. It felt like the blood always cut off and it was hard to stand upright and confident. She preferred loose clothing, jeans and cargo pants. She couldn't stand corduroy or anything that cuffed at the ankles or wrists.
Her hair was another issue, it was mid-length but sat pretty straight on her, it reached just a few inches after her shoulders. There wasn't anything special with it either, it was simply just bland straight hair with boring bangs. Desperately did she want to ask her parents to get it cut, or worse comes to worst- ask Shizuku of all people. She couldn't be trusted around scissors and hair, only paper and fabric. But the feeling of the heavy hair on her bare neck and her ears could get overwhelming. Often she wore it half up half down, the simplest thing she could do without requiring much effort.
She can't even think about anything else, no matter how much it bothers her. She didn't ever feel right. Perhaps it was the feminine pronouns or maybe it was the bugs under her skin that she felt when wearing tight clothing. Either way, all she could do was ignore it.
She cut it off that summer.
Joining the light music club was a mistake. It only gave her more problems. It was called 'light' for a reason. People were lazy. She didn't like how they never really practiced. She wanted to scream and yell at them to take their instruments more seriously, but some days she couldn't even muster a word out, sometimes barely a sound.
The club disbanded mostly because of her. Though she was talented, every other girl in that room found her too weird. Too masculine, too quiet, too mean. Shiho didn't think she was being mean, she was just telling the truth, like they had asked her to. She heard the rumors spread around about her but she had too many other things to worry about to even care. So why bother with others at all?
So she didn't.
She quit talking, both at school and at home. But she doesn't even think Shizuku noticed, it's not like Shiho has to talk at home, especially when their parents are away so often. The kids at school didn't really care all too much, they loved gossiping and spreading rumors. They never truly stopped but at least she wasn't the center of attention anymore.
It had been a while since she had said a word, it was easier anyway. She only ever spoke when prompted to, usually a teacher or her parents on the rare occasion that they were home. It was fine really, it's not like she had many people to talk to. Her final year in junior high was quiet, peaceful and free of chaos.
Then, on the first day back, in walks a girl with blonde pigtails with pink tips.