Katawa Shoujo - Akira Satou Route

Act 2-3 Black Coffee

Everything lies still as sun bleeds in through the window, painting the room with light. A stack of homework sits on a desk next to the bed, its silent cries to be completed falling upon metaphorically deaf ears.

Instead of studying, completing homework, or generally being a responsible student; I've chosen to spend my afternoon lying on the bed. Beige fills my eyes as I stare up at the ceiling, a deep sigh rolling out of my mouth as I think of all the things on my plate.

First, there's the stack of homework which, attractive as it may be, has trouble getting me into the mood to do it. Second, there's the matter of the science symposium I've volunteered to attend this weekend, and all of the preparations that entails.

I'm also running low on snack foods, supplies, and other such needs. Now would be a good time to go out and explore the town's variety of grocery stores, if any variety exists; but this bed is just so comfortable and accommodating. It would be rude to leave it hanging like that.

Oh bed, you're the only one who understands me. You share your comfy expanses of pillowy fluff without asking for anything in return; and I love you for it.

"Great, now I'm talking to the bed. I'm going to go crazy in this place, aren't I?"

All it takes is a sharp knock on the door to bring me back into the world of 'those who don't talk to furniture', a repetition beckoning for me to leave the soft, warm embrace of my mattress and venture out onto the-

Okay, I hop out of bed and answer the door.

"Dude." A certain scarf-clad dorm mate greets.

"What do you want, Kenji?"

"What do I want? A lot of things. But I'm not here for that; I'm just here to see how you're doing, man.

"You can see how I'm doing when you pay me back for that pizza from last week."

He clicks his tongue, brow furrowing in disapproval as I call back to our deal from last week. An encounter in the shower I'd rather forget.

"I'll have your money tomorrow."

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow then." I answer.

"How can you be so cold over something as material as legal tender, man? I thought we was bros. Homies. Grove Street fo' life, y'know?"

He attempts to throw up a series of gang signs, giving up as soon as he realizes that he can't even see the shapes of the twirling fingers two feet in front of his eyes.

"Actually, there is something I need." He says.

"What is it?"

"Are you going to the grocery store later?"

"I was thinking about it, y-"

"Can you grab some milk while you're there? I need it for...stuff."

What kind of 'stuff' could you possibly need milk for, besides consumption? I'll bet he plays mad scientist in his room, mixing together all sorts of things just to see what pops out. I wonder if he's ever had any success. Hopefully I'll never hear any horror stories about something like mustard gas stains in one of the rooms he used to be in.

"Alright, but I'm holding onto it until you pay me for both it and the pizza." I answer.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, man. I'll have your filthy lucre by tomorrow."

I nod my head as he turns around and slithers back into his own room, the sound of the door sliding shut followed by at least seven different clicks and tumbles.