Chapter 1:

Friends Make Garbage (Good Friends Take It Out)

We were just kids
With visions and hearts that coincide
Climb aboard our ship
We're going whether or not that you like
Whether or not that you like

Their relationship had always been precarious since the very beginning.

Scraped knees with skin peeled back like pencil shavings, hands scuffed across the concrete sidewalk like silk against sandpaper, grubby hands mocking, gruff grips knocking and rocking, pushing, pulling, silent screams that echo in dark imprints across their skin, blood spilling like cranberry juice on white tile.

But most of all the fire in their eyes.

Nishimiya had always been gentle. In nature, in looks, in spirit. It seemed to be all that she was.

For some reason, this had really pissed him off.

Maybe it was because it all seemed like an act. Like she was fake. Maybe he felt she was blissfully ignorant of her classmates' discomfort, oblivious and air headed and too cheerful in the face of their despair. Or deep down, maybe he wanted her to become more assertive, so that she could grow a backbone stand up for herself because he had secretly cared about her (though this option was wishful thinking on his behalf and far too optimistic to be really true).

Perhaps, even further down, below the condescension and bitterness, beneath the pride and hunger for domination, and past the stubborn tantrum-like childish wrath, maybe, just maybe—

Maybe he was jealous.

Jealous of her ability to smile despite the pain, despite the loneliness. Grin like she was happier than all of them, like she was leading a better life. And he, Ishida, coming from nothing, was jealous.

Because he'd tormented her. He'd started the vicious cycle. She need only return the favor.

And yet—and yet—

And yet she still offered her smiles. She still wiped clean his desk of profanities and crude insults, still clasped his hand in hopes of friendship, still gingerly cleaned his cheek of his blood as he lay there, broken by and abandoned by his friends, exhausted and wishing he could sink into the cold floor beneath his back.

And despite these kindnesses…he found it passable (in his demented little mind—damn him!) to spurn her.

Ishida remembered tumbling with her in a violent brawl across the hard floor, taunting her, egging her on, angry at her for obscure reasons he now thinks he wasn't so sure of himself then, slamming skulls to the tile, fists tangled viciously in hair, knees knocking ribs, feet kicking like crazy to find purchase and advantage in gravity to flip one over in favor of themselves.

It was a fight for domination for him, but perhaps it was more an issue of equality for her in proving herself as worthy of respect in spite of his refusal to budge to her silent acquiescences. Whatever it was, it was the most intense moments he'd shared (the only thing he'd shared with her, for that matter) and maybe the closest—physically and psychologically—that he'd ever been with Nishimiya.

That is, before she transferred.

After that, Nishimiya was on his mind a lot. He came to feel regret in his belated empathy, now useless to him. The only way he found a way—a will—to survive in this world anymore was in apology to this silent girl that haunted his prepubescent memories to near adulthood. His only wish was to make amends and pay the ultimate price and relinquish this weary stagnant stasis of life.

His first objective was to learn sign language, which he found surprisingly challenging in an enjoyable way. Each sign was unique to its context in a conversation and had multiple variations. It really was its own complex language, in short. He rented video tapes and CD's from the local library, watching them until he knew the movements by heart. He read books to supplement his understanding of the language, all in the hopes that he'd one day be able to communicate properly with the ghost of his past, Nishimiya.

This was not the hard part, however. No—far from it. It was finding her that was the killer of it all. After all, if he couldn't find her, then there'd be no point then, would there?

In between working to pay off the debt he owed to his mother (because of his own goddamned stupidity in destroying all of Nishimiya's hearing aids as a kid), studying for school, and learning sign language, Ishida isn't sure when exactly the red X's started appearing over the other students' faces. He knows it's a choice, perhaps to protect himself, perhaps because he feels he can't afford to get attached for fear of losing focus or for fear of hanging on to this life and gaining a sense of sentimentality.

It doesn't matter either way.

When he tracks her down, it's a miracle. Right there, right in front of him, plain as day to see and believe. If he hadn't given up on God years ago, he might've thanked Him in that moment. But as it was, he was an atheist, and as far as he could tell, the only forgiveness and mercy that could ever matter to him was the girl whose childhood he'd stolen.

And then he could leave this life in peace.

Except it hadn't happened that way.

Sign language was a language that depended heavily on emotion and facial expression. This was apparent in the horror and fear etched across her face that couldn't possibly be replicated in words alone—the action itself was loud enough.

The pain had burned him, but he knew she'd had worse than this by his hand, and that spurred him to find a hope, especially in her mercy, in finding her hand lightly touching his, questioning, probing for information.

She was honestly curious.

Why?

He watched her expression, carefully guarded (when had she learned to do that? because of him, wasn't it?), transform to one of unadulterated shock. She was happy.

No.

She was delighted.

And when he finally—finally—understood her, he couldn't help but be fascinated by her fluidity of movement, graceful and precise as she was with her signals. Her hands were like birds, her arms wings to carry them. It was as if she were a ballerina from the waist up as she spoke (so enthusiastically. he wasn't sure that anyone had spoken to him with that much excitement in years). He finds himself hanging onto every word, memorizing, realizing that he enjoys her company, finds it a relief from the false pretenses of his peers.

She's beautiful.

From her words to her smile to her hair freely lifting in the soft breeze from her back to her caressing touch, Nishimiya Shoko was absolutely breathtaking in that moment.

If there was a heaven, and if they took sinners like him in, Ishida hoped the angels were half as wonderful as her—or, at least, he imagined them to be so.

And just like that, she flashed those two fingers at him, casual as deuces, carefree as a peace sign, was the simple see you later.

And just like that, Ishida Shoya had a reason to live again.

We sailed across the sea
Aimlessly, no direction or timeline
The shore we'd come to find
We'd seen before, never spoke or shared a word
No need, your true thoughts they can't be heard
You're too beautiful for words

Disclaimer: Koe no Katachi belongs to Yoshitoki Oima

I wanted to get this particular "rant" or ramble out from Ishida's perspective of the beginning of their relationship and get a feel for the atmosphere of the story and for my writing itself. Before I go any further I want to try to finish up my other two fanfics "Unity" and "Midnight Pomegranate."

I decided to try and write romance for this particular fandom because I don't see any that are in-depth-plot-multi-chapter fics. While I loved the manga, I wanted more out of the relationship between Ishida and Nishimiya. I realize there were romantic undertones, and I love how the author emphasized the friendship before the romance, but I really want them to become a couple because I think that's what the logical course of their relationship will take, given Nishimiya's botched confession and Ishida's longing to be by her side, as well as the occasional blush. The obstacles are her shyness and his obliviousness. As well as the distance between them when Nishimiya embarks for Tokyo and Ishida stays behind. This is a good time-gap to grow on their own a little bit and to test their friendship-distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?

Chapter title and song lyrics comes from Low Roar's "Friends Make Garbage (Good Friends Take It Out)"