Act 4-9 Remnants

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The muted 'clack' of polished resin hits my ears as the billiards bounce off of one another, rolling along the green surface in a lazy fashion. The girl across the table takes a few moments to pull her cue away, not even batting an eye as only the solid '2' falls into the corner pocket.

A half-empty glass of beer sits on the table nearby, a few idle bubbles slipping through the amber liquid while beads of condensation slide down the edges. Bland slow jazz plays through a speaker and the space around us is generally vacant, occupied by a few men and women who only seem to be here for post-work drinking.

Akira's eyes drift away from the game and she stares at me in a stupor, as if expecting to find some sort of answer on my face. I can't seem to think of what she could be looking for, except to make a mental note of how tired I look, maybe even planning on how she'd catch me if I fell asleep.

We've been here for about ten minutes now, the pint glass on the table Akira's first and only tonight. I'm not even sure if she wants to continue, just that she wanted a beer and a game of pool to clear her head. Neither of those seem to be working, however, as she purses her lips in thought, eyes devoid of any emotion.

If I had to describe the look on her face, it would be one of detachment. It's such a strange feeling to see in her - she's always seemed so involved with everything at hand, even if it's something simple like walking down the road or drinking a cup of coffee. It's unsettling, to say the least.

"You gonna go or are you just gonna stare?" She asks, the joking undertone of her voice just barely audible as she shoots me a feigned pout.

I grab a cue and line up my shot, trying my best to focus in on the striped '11' mere inches away from the side pocket. Of course, I miss it by an inch because of all the thoughts swirling through my own head, from the start of the day up to the events that occurred less than an hour ago.

"What a load of crap." I sputter, letting the rubber end of the stick bounce against the carpet.

Akira shrugs, her vacant gaze shifting from the table back onto me. "You gotta hit the side if you want it to curve. Like how you'd put a spin on a baseball."

"Not that." I say, leaning nearly all of my weight against the table as I slump. "Everything that's happened today. It's such a goddamned mess, and it's all my f-"

Akira cuts me off partway through my statement. "I told you not to start with that."

"Why not? If I could have just kept my mouth shut, all of this could have been..."

Avoided? No, of course not. Akira would have told him eventually, with or without my butting in. "I just feel like I screwed it all up for you. It's because he found out through me that he exploded like that."

She shuts her eyes and gently shakes her head, giving me a hefty sigh. "That's just the kind of man he is. That much hasn't changed since the day I met him. He was an idealistic moron from the very beginning, and I was stupid to think it wouldn't come to this even if I'd tried to find the best opportunity to let him know."

"You did nothing wrong." I counter, not even twitching as she pulls her cue back and strikes the white sphere with enough force to stir up the entire table, pocketing the '4' in the process.

I just don't know what to think about all of this. How Akira's going to recover from it, how it will affect Lilly or Hanako, or if I'm going to be fired out of spite when I show up to work on Thursday. My role in this was definite; I'm sure it all would have happened either way, but to say I had no effect on it is blatantly avoiding facts. It's because I interfered that he wound up snapping.

Akira's eyes regain that dull gleam as she drifts into thought once more, her eyes lazily following my pool cue as I attempt to sink the striped '14' and, once again, fail.

Katawa Shoujo - Akira Satou RouteWhere stories live. Discover now