OOM: This is the story of a girl

[herr_bookman]

Autor follows Kuriyama Mirai up the stairs, wondering if he really should be chasing after her. The door to her room slams in his face, and he dithers for a moment before softly knocking.

"Miss Kuriyama? Are you... Will you be all right?" he asks, thinking that's a stupid question, that of course she's not doing well--that's why he followed, after all. But it's all that comes to mind.

Comments

[halfemptyglasses]

"No," Mirai responds, turning to sit on her side, legs curling around her body. "I just... don't like seeing it. When something's bothering you."

Especially when it was her words doing it.

[herr_bookman]

Autor has no idea how to respond to that. He fiddles with the apricot and considers eating it, but then codes it away in his sylladex to give himself time to think.

"Oh," he says, and then kicks himself. Is that all I can come up with? Really? "I- I see. I'm sorry you had to see that, then." He wonders how she knew he was bothered, but chalks that up to his always being more expressive than he thinks he is. "For the record, I don't like it when things bother you, either."

[halfemptyglasses]

Mirai exhales and goes, "You must feel like that a lot, then."

It's too bad her jokes aren't funny.

[herr_bookman]

And now Autor's lost in thought again, clearly out of his depth. "I usually like how you say the words, 'how unpleasant!', but usually not the reasons you're provoked to say them," the boy says, resting his hand over his heart. "I... I think it's okay that... I mean, the feelings you have are..."

He clutches his fingers in his handkerchief. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to say again."

[halfemptyglasses]

"I don't, either," she admits.

She guesses she should go to bed, but she doesn't even want to get up right now. She turns and reclines on the floor.

[herr_bookman]

The boy swallows. He doesn't know what to say and he doesn't know what to do, and he seems to feel that way an awful lot around her. "Are you going to be all right now?" he asks her through the door.

She seems to have stopped sniffling at least...

[halfemptyglasses]

She takes a deep breath, but it doesn't dispel the ache.

"I don't know. I guess I just wanna sleep now. Like, just right here."

[herr_bookman]

"Sleep is all right, but you'll probably be more comfortable in your own bed," Autor murmurs, drumming his fingers against the wood. "But if you want to sleep there, then there is fine, I guess."

[halfemptyglasses]

"I'm just tired..." she admits, resting her head on her arm. "I'll go to bed when I'm not."

She doesn't even care whether the last part makes sense or not.

[herr_bookman]

It doesn't make sense, and now the boy's worried about her again.

"All right," he says resting his cheek on the door. "Good night, then." And then he dithers. Should he stay? Should he leave? If he stays and falls asleep himself--because he's exhausted, too, now, and sleep does sound good--then he might fall into her room when she opens the door. Would staying be a invasion of her privacy? Surely she'll be all right.

"Good night, Miss Kuriyama," Autor says again, softly, and pats the door with his fingertips before starting to withdraw to his own room.

[halfemptyglasses]

"Good night, Autor-senpai," she calls in return.

[herr_bookman]

Hearing her, the boy pauses in the hallway. I... can probably stay for a little while. Surely she won't mind that, he thinks, and turns on his heel, his step light. He calls a blanket out of his sylladex and leans against the trim, not the door itself, lest she open it and he falls in.

The boy cracks open Sheldon's The German Army on Vimy Ridge 1914–1917, occupying his brain with future history rather than thoughts on Kuriyama Mirai, and how helpless he is when it comes to dealing with her and her troubles. "Good night," he whispers.