Work Text:
'Another day... Another day I have to deal with them.' Fukawa thought as she rolled over in her rather uncomfortable bed. She hadn't slept well the night before, like she ever slept well. Her head was already throbbing at the thought of a new day having to deal with them, her mocking classmates that found enjoyment in tormenting her to the depths of hell. If she liked herself just a small bit more, she would have already ended it for herself; she thought she deserved this misery though. She was so disgusting and so repulsing... She was sure she deserved ever little thing that they did to her.
Fukawa forced herself out of bed, her head feeling light. Her mouth was dry and just the unwillingness too move almost made her plead with herself to stay in her dorm room this one day. But she couldn't; it would only show them her weakness, which she couldn't allow. She groaned before grabbing her bag from underneath her bed, where she had last tossed it. She cringed at some of the things in her room as she searched for her schoolbooks and writings to work on at school. She scowled when she found her schoolbooks under the desk behind her bed, annoyed that they had fallen in such a place. She snatched her half written paper from the typewriter sitting atop her desk and shoved it in her bag along with a few other pages she had gathered from the desk.
Before she was able to leave her room, she had to stop everything just to get a glass of water, because seeing the novel that made her what she was, "Super High School Level Literary Girl", had caused her to get so upset with herself that she nearly fainted in utter hatred.
After calming herself down, she started on her way to the first class of the day. She thought she was rather well off, having only had one panic attack so far in the day. Just when she thought today was going to be a good day, she came to the scanner for which she was supposed to scan her ID, the only thing that would open the door for her. She dug in her shirt pockets and all throughout her bag, only for the valuable piece of technology to be missing. Her head became light and she stumbled away from the front door of the building she was previously attempting to enter.
She rushed across the courtyard and sat by the flowers. It was an odd behaviour in such a panicky situation, but flowers calmed Fukawa. As she sat and counted the petals, all she could think was, Of course, this is all happening to me. Everyone hates me and wishes me dead, I'm sure. Alongside that, they probably find amusement in my weak efforts to calm the storm. I'm ridiculous. She stared off at the flowers for at least ten minutes before deciding she needed to look for her ID. Last she had seen it was the previous day, in the field.
She traveled back through said field and began her search. She dug through bushes, behind air conditioners, under trees. It was no where to be found. The world was getting darker around her... Or maybe that was just her. She took in sharp breaths, trying to calm herself. Right when she was about to break into tears, she found a door. It was an emergency exit for one of the classrooms.
She opened the door, a little surprised that it opened with ease. She walked into the room and felt an immediate wave of anxiety whelm her. All of the desks had been pushed into the wall to her left and there was only a safe in the middle of the room. This was probably her classmates' idea of a sick joke.
Fukawa walked around the safe to discover it was a number coded safe, which made her already anxious ridden body only get eaten alive with more anxiety. She hated numbers. She hated hated hated numbers. They simply made no sense to her.
Fukawa began searching for clues about the combination. She found a sliver of a paper in the rubbish bin nearest the door she came in, then another that oddly matched the previous one in the second rubbish bin in the room. It struck her as odd that there were so many rubbish bins in one room, but she was sure it was just her classmates' ways of tell her that she was rubbish. She found two more tattered pieces of paper in the last two rubbish bins. She set the papers down on a desk and her headache got no better when she realised what she was looking at. Sudoku. Of everything it could have been, it was something which did nothing but cause her to freak out and nearly faint from difficulty. She forced herself to finish the puzzle, leaving herself with the combination and a headache that was threatening to make her pass out from the pain.
She put the combination into the safe and was rather pleased when it opened. Though her pleasure faded as fast as it appeared because that safe was empty. She almost turned away, breaking down, until she saw the note sitting inside the safe, "On your door." It said.
Really? Really!? Fukawa got up and rushed out of the door, scrambling to the dorms. The note didn't lie. Right there, where it could have gotten stollen or broken... was her ID. She snatched it up and then glanced at the time on the clock posted toward the end of the hall. She had already missed more then half of the classes that day. Was there really even a point in going?
She forced herself to go, knowing that it would do no good to lock herself up for the rest of the day, even though that's exactly what she wanted to do. She got to her classroom and sat down, immediately going to writing, ignoring her teacher and the classmates whom she could hear talking about how much of a disturbance she was to their education.
The rest of the school day went on like most of the others, Fukawa kept her mouth shut, allowing her classmates to push her around and talk about her. After class, the writer rushed back to her room, almost relieved for the school day's end. She sat her bag down next to her desk, preparing herself to type all of her handwritten work with the typewriter.
Her eyes went wide when she realised what was missing. The pages to her writings had disappeared from her bag. Of course she deserved this though. She must have been too careless today, her anxiety causing her to be more unaware then she normally already was. At least it wasn't like anything she wrote was worth value. It was all rubbish, just like she was. Despite having these feelings about her pages, she decided to crawl out of her room and go get the works.
She had to scrounge around most of the school, dig through the trash, unstaple her writing from the wall, unlock doors, do more math, and handle super glue to get all of her pages that she remembered she lost. She found her last page in the infirmary, and when she picked it up, she became so lightheaded, she assumed from having been so panicked most of the day. She stumbled down to the floor, before leaning her head against the desk that rested in the middle of the floor. She closed her eyes, the world spinning around her.
She couldn't quite recall, but she seemed to have lost consciousness for a moment there. Before she even had a moment to move, she heard a rather familiar, yet obnoxious voice. "Fukawa-chan! Are you okay? Hang in there!"
Fukawa blinked her eyes open before staring right at the face of a classmate, Asahina Aoi.
"Oh thank goodness! Are you alright?" The Super High School Level Swimmer asked.
Fukawa made sure she was all there before replying, "N-no, I'm not." She said nothing more, but gathered her belongings and ran from there all the way to her room.
She couldn't understand why Asahina had followed her and called out to her as she ran. Fukawa was cold hearted, mean, gross, and worthless. She didn't need friends or even acquaintances. She just needed herself, maybe not even all of that either. Fukawa stumbled onto her bed, still fully dressed in her school attire. She closed her eyes before sighing deeply.
A knock at her door was all that kept her from falling asleep. "Fukawa-chan? I just wanted to let you know that you don't have to shut yourself off from everyone... We can still be friends. Well, ummm, you can always come talk to me if you need to." The voice of Asahina came into her room from the intercom. "Here. Ummm... Feel better, Fukawa-chan." The swimmer slipped something under her room before walking away with loud, yet soft footsteps. Fukawa forced herself out of her bed to go pick up the paper. It was one of the pages of her writings. Fukawa laid it on her desk, before getting ready for bed. Maybe not everyone was terrible.
She still deserved nothing though.