A New Life, But It's A Life I Don't Want

Sayuri stopped her wheelchair in front of the door of her new room, looking up at the newly-affixed nameplate.


It was written in Braille as well, in case any blind visitors happened to come by and wonder whose room this was. Yet another reminder of the place Sayuri was in now. A place she didn't want to be in.

A school for cripples. Might as well call it a leper colony. Take all the cripples and put 'em someplace else, so the normals don't have to look at us. Like we're diseased. Like we're animals. It's disgusting. I'm a perfectly normal human being just like everyone else. She looked scornfully down at her lap, at the stick-thin legs hidden beneath her long dress. Or at least I would be if these damn things still worked.

Once upon a time, Sayuri's legs had been fully-functional. She had been a keen kendo fighter, and hoped to become a professional. But all that changed after the growth spurt. In less than a year she had shot up by more than a foot. Had this merely left her freakishly tall, as it had (six feet being gargantuan for a Japanese woman), she would have accepted it. But her legs couldn't handle their sudden rapid growth, nor could they support the rest of her body as it grew. They ended up permanently crippled, unable to support her weight for more than a fleeting moment, and Sayuri was left stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. She could practise kendo no more.

It's not fair.

Sayuri took out her key and unlocked the door, wheeling herself inside. Her things had already been packed away, saving her the bother. Not that she would have really been able to pack them away herself. Opening the wardrobe, she found that the clothes rail had been lowered so her clothes were easily within reach. I don't need this. I can manage.

She closed the wardrobe and spun her wheelchair round, surveying the whole room. There. She knew they would have brought it. Mounted on the wall above her bed was her old kendo blade. The final, ultimate reminder of the impassable gap between her old life and her new one. The life she didn't want, and the life she could never return to.

It was too much. The blade had to go.

Sayuri wheeled herself over to the bed, crimson eyes filled with fury. Leaning herself forwards she collapsed face-first onto the bed, then tried to push herself upright. I have to reach it. I have to do it. She crouched on her hands and feet, trying to steady herself on the unstable surface of the bed, then tried to slowly lever herself upright. I can do it. Her legs screamed in agony as her weight shifted onto them. I can do it.

Halfway upright the agony grew unbearable, and her legs cried enough. Sayuri fell backwards onto the bed, her head hanging off the edge due to her massive height, her legs burning with pain, her tormentor remaining in its mounting above her bed. It was no use. Anger gave way to sadness, and tears began to stream down the sides of her face, dripping onto the floor.

"It's just not fair."

I was told to give another homework assignment to Mori. Such an odd girl.

I haven't seen her fully in person (unless you count barely visible behind a door) since I first met her and no matter how much I try to make conversation, she seems to ignore or dodge it all together. I used to like being ignored, but after actually TRYING to get some sort of social life here it seems rather...weird.

What's that noise? Is it...crying?

Barely audible but the door to the room where it's coming from is open.

Should I intrude? I probably shouldn't.

As I walk past the door to go back to my dorm I catch a glance at the girl who seemed to have fallen out of her wheel chair. Does she need help? Would she not like help? Doesn't she have anyone to help her with this type of thing?

The gentleman in me is beating me quite hard. Seeing a crying girl who is at the same time in need of a wheel chair and I'm wondering if I should attempt to help her.

I'm so pathetic-of course I should help her!

"Hey, are you okay?"

I pause at the door and then see that she hasn't even unpacked yet. She shouldn't mind if I enter in that case.

I enter and kneel beside her bed, not even noticing her height.

Sayuri does not look at the boy as he enters. Letting someone see me like this...pathetic. However, in her helplessness Sayuri conceded that she could not even get back into her wheelchair on her own, let alone remove the kendo blade that mocked her from its mounting high above her bed. Sayuri swallowed what remained of her pride, wiped her eyes with her hand, and shook her head.

"No. I'm not okay. C...could you help me...please?"

"Of course."

It's then that I remember that I may need to have a bit of physical contact with her to help. I'm a little embarrassed but it's not like she's poison to the touch. Be a man, Satoshi!

Assessing her size, I now see that maybe if I shaved my head she'd be taller than me but she is definitely skinnier than I am with very frail-looking legs.

Looking at her eyes, I can tell she was crying out of frustration for her disability instead of her frustration for falling. Clearly this was a late defect and a big hindrance upon her life.

She's looking at something. A kendo stick? I don't know what that has to do with anything but it must be something that has to do with her.

Noted.

Anyway, she seems to look lighter than I am despite her size.

I role her wheel chair over to the bed and position myself on an angle between the girl and what is probably her adversary.

My right arm on her back, left under her lengthy legs.

"Ready? *English* Onetwothree!"

Setting her in her chair, I take a step back from the person I've been most physically acquainted with so far at my stay in Yamaku School For The Disabled.

"You, alright?"

Sayuri wiped away the last of her tears, fixed her hair, and nodded politely.

"Yes. I'm fine now. Thank you." I won't ask him to take down the kendo blade. It's my unwanted reminder, my adversary. I'll deal with it myself. One day. Somehow.

It hits me...

"That's an interesting thing about you I wouldn't of expected."

I turn my head towards the blade.

"I'm more of a tonfa person myself but that's just me."

As a person with the fighting style of parry then strike, I find myself curious of what is her preference.

I push my hair back and proceed to suggest she gives me one piece of information I was also curious about.

"...Name's Satoshi Veach."

Sayuri's face twitches almost imperceptibly as Satoshi begins talking about martial arts. You idiot. Don't talk about that in front of me. She manages to control herself in time to catch his introduction.

"Motozaki. Sayuri Motosaki. It's nice to make your acquaintance, Veach-san."

*sudden nearly silent inhale.*

Anger? Clearly a touchy subject, but why? I only mentioned weapons and you don't have to have a normal body to like weapons.

The only way someone would of gotten mad so easily towards a statement about something having to do with something like kendo is if they were very into something like that.

The answer dawns on me.

This girl had her apparently long interest in kendo suddenly interrupted by what looks like a huge bone-breaking growth spurt. Poor girl.

I can't imagine something like that happening to my arms with my percussion interests.

"Well, I'm-..I'm sorry I had to meet you in this way."

My, now broken, heavy thought is what stutters my speech.

"That's okay."

He seems to have figured out the source of Sayuri's frustration, judging from his expression. This boy's sharp.

A sudden, suspicious thought occurs to Sayuri. He's too sharp to have wandered into the girls' dorms by accident, and he certainly couldn't have heard me from outside the dorms. So...

"If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing in the girls' dorms?"

Figured that question would come up sooner or later.

"There's a girl from my class down the hall who-"

rarely attends because of some sort of mental trauma is the truth, but I don't want any rumors about someone I care for. Even if we aren't technically friends, people still should have each other's backs in a time and especially a place like this.

"-is out sick today. I was requested to bring her homework to her."

"I heard a..disturbance coming from this room."

I don't want to bring up a girl who has this much will and pride's moment of weakness. That could prove to be quite bad if I were to address the crying.

"Is it your first day here at Yamaku?"

So he's on an errand. Fair enough. Though why did he hesitate before saying the student was sick? Is there more to this? It doesn't matter. It doesn't concern me.

"Yes, it is. I shouldn't keep you any longer, you have that errand to be getting on with."

"You're fine. I was on my way back when I investigated."

And then I realize that there isn't much left to talk about anyway.

Damn, perhaps I should of let that be my leave.

I may be able to end the conversation for her sake after one more little detail...

"By the way, I'm fairly new here myself and BELIEVE ME that it is easy to get lost. If you ever need a guide, just tell me. Alright?"

I write down my room number and give it to her.

I'm thinking to myself as I stand up.

Come to think of it, I gave a pretty big hint that something really awful happened with having to do with MY first day. Should I tell her what happened or would that make me look stupid to her? I suppose I could answer if she asked but would that be worth it? Is she even curious?

Sayuri nods as she takes the piece of paper with the boy's room number written on it. "I will. Thank you."

Hopefully I won't need this. I probably won't do much outside of lessons, and I know where my classroom is. I think. Hmm. We'll see. I'd prefer not to rely on someone I barely know, regardless of how kind or helpful they may be.

Deciding there is nothing further to be discussed, Sayuri is content to let Satoshi leave.

"Later...Motozaki was it? I was never great with names."

Though I feel I might remember it easily. This girl has quite an interesting personality, after all.

After getting my confirmation from her, I shut the door behind me. Leaving the room, carrying the hopes of getting to know her better later on.