SS Contest #21: Through the Window
Apr 30, 2017 13:54:56 GMT
neonquincy1217, sgamer82, and 1 more like this
Post by doctorpeggy on Apr 30, 2017 13:54:56 GMT
Super Short Contest #21 - Train: Through the Window
(I... it's an extended metaphor? I honestly don't know, but since I wrote something, I don't think there's any harm in submitting it.)
Word count: 916
Summary: Mitsuhiko isn't sure if he'll ever be able to fully understand Haibara Ai. After all, despite being her friend for seven years, he still knows nothing about her.
Through the Window
Mitsuhiko watched Haibara-san stare at the blackboard with unseeing eyes, her mind elsewhere.
He himself was paying no attention to the science class either, having read all his eighth grade textbooks within two weeks of getting them. He was, instead, observing his friend and longtime crush; enchanted, as usual, by her strangely mature and mysterious charm.
Her eyebrows drew together briefly, and he imagined that she was thinking about some very sophisticated problem, possibly something that only grown-ups would worry about, something Mitsuhiko would never understand.
He felt like he was trapped in a train running forever parallel to one that she was on. He could never reach her, never understand her. All he could do was watch from the thick glass window.
He was yanked from his reverie by the teacher’s voice.
“Tsubarya-san, can you answer the question I’ve written on the blackboard?” she demanded rather than asked, clearly annoyed by Mitsuhiko’s daydreaming.
Mitsuhiko scanned the board.
“Rho is the symbol used to denote density.” he answered smoothly.
The teacher sighed, and turned around to write some more notes on the blackboard.
Mitsuhiko’s eyes quickly found their way back to Haibara-san’s face. With a start he realized she was looking right at him, one corner of her mouth lifted in a half smile, though her eyebrows were creased ever so slightly, as if something bothersome was lingering in the back of her mind.
Dammit.
She’d noticed him watching.
“Haibara-san, why don’t you try solving the equation I’ve just written?” The teacher said, breaking the moment.
He shifted his focus to the board, trying to crunch the numbers quickly. He had barely started Haibara-san answered.
“The value of the mass is 37 kilograms.” she said coolly. The corners of the teacher’s lips twitched upwards. Mitsuhiko’s went he other way.
He’d been trying to get the answer to questions, to finish solving worksheets, to complete tests before Haibara-san for over four years now, ever since he’d realized she was something of a genius. He hadn’t had any luck yet. Not even when he didn’t focus on getting the answers right. And there was no way he’d ever score more than she did. Either he got them all correct, or he stood second place.
He felt inadequate, never able to reach her level. And it seemed like she wasn’t even trying. Her train was on smooth tracks, never a hitch, never a falter. He just couldn’t figure her out.
He bit his lip. He’d wondered thousands of times how Conan-kun had managed to hold proper conversations with her, how Conan-kun was able to reach her through the walls of his train and into hers. Then again, sometimes it had felt like Conan was just as distant as the strawberry blonde. And his unprecedented return to America hadn’t exactly solved any mysteries.
Mitsuhiko didn’t dare to try and continue observing Haibara-san after she had noticed that he had been watching, but he couldn’t help risking a glance in her direction.
Her eyes were crumpled shut, and she was fiddling uneasily with a lock of her hair.
It gave Mitsuhiko some pause. Just seconds ago he’d been thinking her tracks were clear for a long time to come, and now he’d just seen her carriage wobble dangerously.
He had no clue what she might be thinking about. He didn’t even know anything about her life.
Realization stabbed him suddenly int he gut. The reason he couldn’t reach her wasn’t because his train was on his own tracks, but because his train wasn’t on her tracks. He wasn’t part of her life. As much as she spent time with the detective boys, none of them had ever had a glimpse of her personal life. None of them knew anything about her, and none of them could ever tell how she felt.
It was disquieting, that even after knowing her for all these years he was still looking at her from afar.
Except…
Conan-kun had always been on the same tracks as Haibara-san. Mitsuhiko wasn’t sure how he did it, but he did know that Haibara-san must have let him. Maybe she had let him get onto her tracks by switching with an intersection, or maybe she herself had changed direction onto his tracks.
All he knew was that she was intentionally keeping Mitsuhiko and the others from getting close.
And Mitsuhiko could only guess her reasons, but they’d be clear enough if he managed to get to be part of her life. When he managed to be part of her life.
The lunch bell would ring in twenty minutes. Twenty minutes that Mitsuhiko would spend thinking about the best way to swerve onto Haibara-san’s tracks. And maybe he’d crash. Maybe he’d destroy any connection their tracks might have had in store for the future. And there was a chance that he’d miss her tracks altogether. He didn’t care
All Mitsuhiko knew was that he’d seen a glimpse of something that was wrong in Haibara-san’s life, something that had probably been wrong for longer than he could possibly know, and he’d finally realized that if he was ever going to find out anything about her, he’d have to force his way onto her tracks. Even at the risk of losing her, because the fact was that he’d never had her to start with. And so he would. And maybe, finally, he’d really get to know Haibara-san.
(I... it's an extended metaphor? I honestly don't know, but since I wrote something, I don't think there's any harm in submitting it.)
Word count: 916
Summary: Mitsuhiko isn't sure if he'll ever be able to fully understand Haibara Ai. After all, despite being her friend for seven years, he still knows nothing about her.
Through the Window
Mitsuhiko watched Haibara-san stare at the blackboard with unseeing eyes, her mind elsewhere.
He himself was paying no attention to the science class either, having read all his eighth grade textbooks within two weeks of getting them. He was, instead, observing his friend and longtime crush; enchanted, as usual, by her strangely mature and mysterious charm.
Her eyebrows drew together briefly, and he imagined that she was thinking about some very sophisticated problem, possibly something that only grown-ups would worry about, something Mitsuhiko would never understand.
He felt like he was trapped in a train running forever parallel to one that she was on. He could never reach her, never understand her. All he could do was watch from the thick glass window.
He was yanked from his reverie by the teacher’s voice.
“Tsubarya-san, can you answer the question I’ve written on the blackboard?” she demanded rather than asked, clearly annoyed by Mitsuhiko’s daydreaming.
Mitsuhiko scanned the board.
“Rho is the symbol used to denote density.” he answered smoothly.
The teacher sighed, and turned around to write some more notes on the blackboard.
Mitsuhiko’s eyes quickly found their way back to Haibara-san’s face. With a start he realized she was looking right at him, one corner of her mouth lifted in a half smile, though her eyebrows were creased ever so slightly, as if something bothersome was lingering in the back of her mind.
Dammit.
She’d noticed him watching.
“Haibara-san, why don’t you try solving the equation I’ve just written?” The teacher said, breaking the moment.
He shifted his focus to the board, trying to crunch the numbers quickly. He had barely started Haibara-san answered.
“The value of the mass is 37 kilograms.” she said coolly. The corners of the teacher’s lips twitched upwards. Mitsuhiko’s went he other way.
He’d been trying to get the answer to questions, to finish solving worksheets, to complete tests before Haibara-san for over four years now, ever since he’d realized she was something of a genius. He hadn’t had any luck yet. Not even when he didn’t focus on getting the answers right. And there was no way he’d ever score more than she did. Either he got them all correct, or he stood second place.
He felt inadequate, never able to reach her level. And it seemed like she wasn’t even trying. Her train was on smooth tracks, never a hitch, never a falter. He just couldn’t figure her out.
He bit his lip. He’d wondered thousands of times how Conan-kun had managed to hold proper conversations with her, how Conan-kun was able to reach her through the walls of his train and into hers. Then again, sometimes it had felt like Conan was just as distant as the strawberry blonde. And his unprecedented return to America hadn’t exactly solved any mysteries.
Mitsuhiko didn’t dare to try and continue observing Haibara-san after she had noticed that he had been watching, but he couldn’t help risking a glance in her direction.
Her eyes were crumpled shut, and she was fiddling uneasily with a lock of her hair.
It gave Mitsuhiko some pause. Just seconds ago he’d been thinking her tracks were clear for a long time to come, and now he’d just seen her carriage wobble dangerously.
He had no clue what she might be thinking about. He didn’t even know anything about her life.
Realization stabbed him suddenly int he gut. The reason he couldn’t reach her wasn’t because his train was on his own tracks, but because his train wasn’t on her tracks. He wasn’t part of her life. As much as she spent time with the detective boys, none of them had ever had a glimpse of her personal life. None of them knew anything about her, and none of them could ever tell how she felt.
It was disquieting, that even after knowing her for all these years he was still looking at her from afar.
Except…
Conan-kun had always been on the same tracks as Haibara-san. Mitsuhiko wasn’t sure how he did it, but he did know that Haibara-san must have let him. Maybe she had let him get onto her tracks by switching with an intersection, or maybe she herself had changed direction onto his tracks.
All he knew was that she was intentionally keeping Mitsuhiko and the others from getting close.
And Mitsuhiko could only guess her reasons, but they’d be clear enough if he managed to get to be part of her life. When he managed to be part of her life.
The lunch bell would ring in twenty minutes. Twenty minutes that Mitsuhiko would spend thinking about the best way to swerve onto Haibara-san’s tracks. And maybe he’d crash. Maybe he’d destroy any connection their tracks might have had in store for the future. And there was a chance that he’d miss her tracks altogether. He didn’t care
All Mitsuhiko knew was that he’d seen a glimpse of something that was wrong in Haibara-san’s life, something that had probably been wrong for longer than he could possibly know, and he’d finally realized that if he was ever going to find out anything about her, he’d have to force his way onto her tracks. Even at the risk of losing her, because the fact was that he’d never had her to start with. And so he would. And maybe, finally, he’d really get to know Haibara-san.