Three Months

Author's Note: OK, so this is the first story posted by the post-horrifyingly-stressful-life-events me. Hooray. That being said, this started as an idle thought last night, after watching HOTD Episode 8. Having been a huge fan of the manga for years, the anime has so far pleased me greatly, and has such also acted as inspiration.

On top of that, the HOTD section of this site is currently shit. I've seen two stories in English that actually focus on the characters. Everyone seems to be going "oh look a zombie apocalypse this means I can write some badly writ shit about my own characters in this setting instead of posting it on fictionpress like I fucking should". No thank you, internet. This does not appeal to me.

Something needs to be fucking done about this.

Therefore, this fic. Without further ado, I give you Three Months.

Chapter posted: 24 Aug 2010

Prologue

Komuro Takashi stood on the fire escape, gazing out across the front yard of Fujimi High School. The spring breeze was gentle, the sounds of the city muted and the building provided shade. It was the perfect place to relax.

Takashi was not relaxed. Seized by melancholy, he had come here to escape; escape the world, escape his friends, escape the source of his despair – his childhood friend, Miyamoto Rei.

Recalling the promise that they had made as children, the promise he could never forget, Takashi began mumbling the attached rhyme under his breath.

'Takashi, when we're older I'll marry you!'

'Really? Do you really mean it?'

'Definitely! It's a promise!'

"If you break the promise, stick a thousand needles in your eye…" he muttered, sighing morosely. 'World – just stop turning for once…'

"You're so stupid," an irritated voice said, cutting across his dark mood. Takashi turned to see another of his childhood friends, Takagi Saya, marching towards him.

"Takagi," he acknowledged.

"You always come to the same place to sulk. It's really childish." She began to advance on him. "If you're going to drop out of class to wallow in self-pity, you'll have to take extra courses to keep up, you know," she continued.

"What are you doing here, then?" Takashi retorted. "You're missing class too."

"That's different," she responded, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm a genius. As someone who didn't have to rely on luck to get into this school, I can afford to miss a lesson or two and still be fine."

"Say, Takagi," Takashi said, cutting off whatever she was about to say. He was in no mood for her bullshit. Not right now. "Why are you always so-?"

"Because I hate stupid people. Especially the ones who don't know they're stupid." Takashi's confusion must have shown on his face, because Saya chose to elaborate. "You, on the other hand, know you're stupid, so you can begin to learn to not be stupid. This means that there's hope for you yet."

Takashi sighed once more at her apparent insincerity, leaning over the banister of the fire escape and again taking in the sight of the school's courtyard and the view of the city beyond it.

"I give up!" Saya cried, frustration at his foul mood showing through in her voice. "It's not like getting rejected by a girl is the end of the world, dumbass!" she threw over her shoulder as she walked away, leaving Takashi alone with his thoughts.

He didn't know how long he stood there, reflecting upon the conversation he had had with Rei. How he had confessed his feelings to her. How she had hesitantly admitted that she was seeing his good friend, Igo Hisashi. How she had, without meaning to, taken his heart and ripped it apart, piece by fragile piece.

Eventually, he could bear it no longer; Takashi needed to talk with someone, needed to interact with someone who wasn't called Rei or Hisashi or Saya. He pushed himself away from the banister and wandered back inside, seemingly with no destination in mind. Roaming the empty hallways, passing class after class full of people, he felt more alone than ever.

Takashi walked as if in a daze, only really snapping out of it when the bell for the next class rang. He looked around to find himself near the dojo where Hisashi's karate class practiced; he decided to go there and take out his feelings on one of the training dummies – not that he had any particular skill at fighting. Takashi just wanted to hit something. His sadness was quickly being replaced by anger.

He walked inside without checking. It was the single best thing he would ever do. Inside the dojo, a solitary figure was practicing; at his entrance, it looked up, panting faintly with exertion.

"Ah, sorry," Takashi said, only just noticing that someone else was there. "I didn't mean to interrupt you," he said to the (female) occupant.

"It's no trouble at all; I was just finishing up." She began to gather her equipment – a bokken and its sheath, some training wear and what looked like her own dummy. As she walked past him, he decided to act on impulse, spurred on by the flux of his emotions.

"I'm Komuro Takashi," he introduced himself, bowing slightly. She returned it.

"Nice to meet you, Komuro-kun," she replied. "My name is Busujima Saeko."