Author's Note: In doing research for this story I was stunned to find out just how capable people without arms can be with respect to taking care of themselves without any help whatsoever (this actually forced a major rewrite of the piece). In this respect, I actually think the game overstates the extent of Rin's physical handicap, so I tried to focus more on her behavior and worldview and the challenges it poses to her and Hisao's relationship.

Also, although there will certainly be adult content in this piece, this is not intended to be smut. Think like the game: adult content will be present in so far as it supports the relationship of the characters, but not for its own sake. I'm writing for grownups, so I assume a commensurate level of maturity and tolerance of that type of material.

Also, given that this deals with a character with physical (and probably also cognitive) impairments, there will be material that some readers find uncomfortable. That's the nature of the original game, so I won't apologize for that. However, any misunderstandings or misinterpretations of the implications of such conditions are my own. I'm not an expert in this field.

Although I figure it usually goes without saying in these stories, all characters and the KS universe as a whole are the property of their respective owners (not me).

******************Wednesday, November 14th*********************

It isn't that unusual to wake up to find Rin watching me, so I don't react too badly when I open my eyes to find myself looking into her murky green ones from maybe six inches away. Even so, I jerk back a bit on instinct and bang my head against the headboard. The muffled thump seems to surprise her, and she jumps back too. Unfortunately, she's on the edge of the bed, and so she teeters for a moment, catches a heel, and then falls backwards, dropping out of sight with a muffled thud, one foot still clearly visible, hung up on the edge of the mattress and tangled in the sheets. She lets out a yelp, and then her voice floats back to me.

"Ouch."

I scramble over to the edge of the bed and lean over. She's flat on her back, arm nubs waving, her face scrunched up in pain. I'm cold with fear that she's hurt herself and the adrenaline shock makes my heartbeat stutter painfully for a moment. After a second, though, her eyes open up again, and she stares up at me, green eyes narrowed in irritation and her red hair spread out in disarray all around her head like a fiery halo.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

She thinks about it, eyes going dreamy-thoughtful. "I get hurt less when you're asleep. Maybe I should get you some sleeping pills."

She's okay. Rin's never been the most focused, but I have to believe that if she was really hurt she wouldn't be doing her usual random-association thing. It's hard to explain, but I've decided that Rin doesn't really think all that differently from anyone else - she's just never figured out which parts of her thoughts to follow up and which to ignore. She was born without arms, but sometimes I think that the effects of that pale in comparison to the odd internal world she lives in most of the time. It makes it hard to follow her conversations sometimes. I don't know if I'll ever really get the knack of it. Then she smiles up at me to let me know it's a joke, and I remember why I don't really care if I ever do.

"Maybe you shouldn't stare at me while I'm sleeping like that. What were you doing?"

"I like watching different yous," she says. "Asleep you is hard to see because usually when you're asleep I'm asleep." She shrugs. "I gotta take my opportunities when I find them."

If she's lucid enough to come up with this level of Rin-ness, she must be okay. I clamber down from the decrepit secondhand bed to help her up. Rin isn't unableto right herself after a fall, it's just more difficult. Honestly I think sometimes I'm more bothered than she is by watching her flail around like a turtle on its back, feet kicking and arm-nubs waving until she gets up the momentum to rock herself over onto her knees so she can stand up. Sometimes she does this crazy kung-fu movie looking thing, kicking her legs in a circle and rolling across her shoulders to her feet, but not this morning. Either the fall must have had an effect on her, or it's just too early for gymnastics. I think for a second that that's too bad. Gymnastics with Rin are...

...well, a thought best left for later, unless I want to be late for work.

I get an arm under her and lever her back up to her feet, pausing to let her disentangle her foot from the bed linens. Her eyes are squinted a little bit, so I reach up a hand to the back of her head and ask "Where's it hurt?"

She pauses, thinks about it. "Up a bit," she says. I dutifully move my fingers up half an inch.

"Over to the right," she says. I move them right, rub gently to let her know where they are.

"Yup," she says. "Right there, I think."

Applying a bit more pressure, I rub my fingers gently but firmly through her thick hair, massaging the sore spot. My anxiety returns for a second as I feel an irregular lump stuck to a curly red lock, then I relax as I realize it's only dried paint. It's not the first time that's happened. I don't know if that happens to all painters, or just Rin. Of course, most painters have hands to paint with. Rin has to use her feet, or sometimes her mouth. The results can be... messy.

I look over at the clock. It's 7:21. My alarm was set to go off in nine minutes, and it's not like I'd be able to get back to sleep after a wake-up like that anyway.

Suddenly, I smell something breakfasty. Now I'm really concerned.

"Rin," I ask, "are you cooking?"

She's gazing up at the skylight of the studio apartment, and I have to ask again before she looks back at me and nods, decisively.

"Eggs," she says, and smiles faintly. "Eggshells too, probably."

Rin's actually not bad in the kitchen. Of course, since she has to do almost everything with her toes she sometimes has to stand on a chair in front of the range so she can get her feet high enough, perched precariously on one leg as she leans over a pot of boiling water or a hot frying pan, the sight of which doesn't do anything good for my heart. She can hold a spoon or a spatula between her toes with surprising dexterity, just as she can handle a fork or a paintbrush. Cutting is difficult and dangerous, of course, and so she usually avoids it, but mixing is pretty straightforward for her, and she's good at handling the knobs and buttons of the electric stove. Eggs, unfortunately, tend to pose a unique challenge for her. I'm not sure if that's why she winds up cooking them so often, or if she just likes the taste of them. Either way, the results of her usual technique of sliding her bottom up onto the counter, gripping the eggs between the first and second toes of one foot, and cracking them into the pan seems to produce a lot of loose eggshells and broken yolks. Still cooking eggs makes her happy, and I've found that things that make her happy tend to make me happy, so I don't mind the occasional unexpected crunch.

No, the problem with Rin's cooking is how distractable she is. More than once I've come home from work to discover the black, smouldering remains of dinner scorched into a frying pan with Rin painting furiously a few meters away; or find her standing motionless staring at a butterfly that made its way into the apartment while a pot boils over onto the stove. I'm amazed we've never had a serious fire. Someday soon when I get enough saved up, I'm going to buy one of those smoke alarms that automatically calls the fire department. I predict that when I do, I'll wind up meeting quite a few irritated firemen, but that's better than her burning the house down.

At the moment, though, my paltry salary as a bank teller isn't really enough to do more than cover the rent and groceries each month. Not to mention the cost of paint and canvas. I'd like to think that it's all an investment until Rin's art gains a broader following beyond the small number of collectors and enthusiasts who have taken an interest in her work, but in all honestly I don't know if her paintings are ever likely to have the kind of broad appeal or investment potential to do more than provide us with the occasional windfall when Sae manages to sell one of her works down at her gallery, "22nd Corner," where she usually keeps a few of Rin's works on display.

More importantly, I've come to realize Rin's paintings are one of the few forms of self-expression that really works for her, even if I've never really managed to understand any of them. I'm not really an artist, or even a knowledgeable art-lover, but Rin's painting seems to keep her anchored in the same reality as me, more or less, and that's enough for me. My parents are somewhat less thrilled with the situation, of course. My heart medications are expensive, and even though my employer's health insurance covers them, there's always the risk my health will take a turn for the worse and I'll lose my job and have to go back on National Health Insurance, which isn't as good.

Plus, they'd like to see me enroll in university, and "reach my full potential." I can't really argue with them on the subject - certainly my grades and exams were good enough to get me accepted to a decent school, and my parents already had enough money saved up to send me. But somehow that doesn't matter as much to me as making sure Rin is okay. Maybe that will change someday. But until then, I feel lucky to have this job at the bank. As I mentioned, the pay isn't great, but the hours are good enough that most days I can leave in the morning while it's light out and still get home in time to make dinner so Rin doesn't set the apartment on fire.

While I've been thinking, Rin has been watching me, and I realize that she's wearing the downcast, vacant expression I've come to associate with regret and guilt. Even Rin's facial expressions are unique to her, and I'm still not sure I've worked them all out yet. Right now, though, I've got an idea what's wrong.

Despite her difficulties in carrying on normal social interactions, Rin is a remarkably astute observer, and I know it bothers her that I'm spending so much time taking care of her when I could be off at university studying to be a science teacher. She also seems to occasionally display an uncanny ability to read my thoughts on certain topics. I'm worried that she's noticed that I'm feeling the stress of my responsibilities.

I've tried to explain to her that I'm where I want to be, and that I'm happy with my choices, but I don't think she believes me. In truth, sometimes I'm not sure I believe it either. But I have to say that I honestly feel that this is where I'm supposed to be, and even after six months living with Rin in this crummy attic apartment I still find myself irresistibly attached to her, to our life together.

It isn't your typical life, but it's ours, and spending time with Rin has opened my mind to an amazing new perspective on the world. To watch her stare at a dandelion for an hour is to suddenly realize just how amazing an ordinary everyday object like a flower really is. I know that I notice more about the world since I've met her.

Some days I even think I'm starting to really understand her when she talks, and even to have some idea of why she does the things that others find so odd. Of course, there are still many times when I'm completely clueless about her motivations, or even about what she's trying to say.

This time, though, she doesn't say anything; just looks at me, and then away. The clouds in her eyes seem to drift in more closely, as though she's fading back into the permanent fog that so often separates her from the world where I live.

There was a time when this would frustrate, irritate, and baffle me. But when dealing with her, I've learned not to rely too much on words, or even expressions. I've come to believe that there are two ways to understand Rin. The first is to watch what she paints. The second is to watch what she does. Of course, to do either sometimes you've got to do something to provoke a reaction, because her default state is motionless, quiet, and introverted.

This time I try a hug. I can feel her resist for a moment, but then sure enough she suddenly relaxes into me in her equivalent of an embrace. How does an armless person hug you? I've found that it's hard to describe, but when it happens, you know. She gently lifts my chin with her head, and tucks herself into me. I'm surprised anew by the warmth of her. It's always seemed to me that she runs a few degrees hotter than anyone else, although I've never noticed a measurable difference on the thermometer on the few occasions she's been sick.

The hug helped, I think, but I still catch the sigh that lets me know she's not completely happy. I keep her tucked up against me, enjoying the feel of her slim body in my arms. After a minute or so, she seems to feel better, and lifts her face up for a kiss. Satisfied, I head off to rescue the eggs, which are only slightly singed, and then go upstairs to the bathroom to take a shower. Today Rin joins me. Actually, she wanders in halfway through, shrugs out of the old button down shirt that she "borrowed" from me six months ago as a sleep shirt, and bonks her head into the glass door of the shower until I let her in. Rin can dress or undress herself in a few basic outfits, and open the shower door, but it's a lot easier for her with help.

A/N: I know this is kind of an abrupt ending for the chapter. I had originally written a monster 4k word first chapter, and I decided to split it for readability (also because I'm still tweaking the second half). The story as a whole is already written, though (roughly 15k words right now), so I'm just doing tweaks here and there. I'm planning to update a couple times a week as my schedule permits. Hope you enjoyed it! I enjoy reviews. Maybe we can all be happy? :)