Yasuo Kuwabara's Story

Yasuo Kuwabara's Mind, 5:50 AM

"What? You need help with your homework? I can help with that!" Yasuo said, as he puffed out his chest, and pulled out a pencil from seemingly nowhere.

"Alright, %X^3324/^21382793, that's easy. See, all you have to do is *muttering* and add the *muttering* to the *muttering*, and..." He stated, with a quick scribble with his pencil.

"You find the answer. Simple, right?" He added, as he got out of his chair, and smiled towards the student he was helping out. "I gotta get to soccer practice, err.... Wait what?" He asked, startled, as he looks at the student a bit closely.

"Yuki? What are you doing in Ryouchi?" He asked, shocked.

"Dumbass, this is meaningless babble. I thought you were learning math." She simply stated, angrily, and, taking out a lighter, burnt the paper...........

---

Yasuo's Apartment 5:53 AM

"Damn dreams... I should probably see a psychologist, seeing how I'm still having dreams of stuff that happened years ago...." Yasuo said, as he woke up, sweat all over his body, as he began to roll off of his couch.

Once he landed on the bare wood floor, with a reactionary grunt, he pushed himself off the ground, he stared at his messy apartment. A couple cans of soda could be seen, strewn about the small room, along with pants, shirts, and soccer 'cheat sheets' which mention game dates and his exercise routine. His desk, which has been pushed to the left wall, still has last night's pizza, a couple miscellaneous items, and a clock.

"Gotta clean this up at some point in time...." Yasuo muttered, as he looked at his clock, checking the time. "5:53? Oh crap, I'm supposed to be starting my routine in.... 6:00 minus 5:53 is... 6 minutes? I think? Whatever, I need to go." He states to himself, puzzled, as he got dressed with a clean pair of pants and a shirt, and ran out of his apartment, headed straight to the school. 5 miles, and he needs to get there at 6... Not happening.

---

Soccer Field 6:10 AM

After running his five miles, being kept warm by the adrenaline one gets from running right after wakening up, Yasuo began his morning drill, a thirty minute work out prescribed by the coach for mornings. Jumping jacks, push ups ("Why do I even need to do push ups in soccer?"), and situps. Once that was done, and Yasuo was covered with sweat, he ran off, heading to the changing room.

Pool 6:45 AM

"God damm, this is why I'm supposed to start practicing at six sharp, not any later...." He muttered to himself, as he dove into the pool, and began his laps. Once done, he entered the shower, and then the locker room, getting his uniform on, and then headed to the Home Room, quickly.

Home Room 7:14 AM

"Can't believe I got here on time..." Yasuo muttered, panting, and takes a seat near Charlie, and waved his finger above his (her) face.

"Hey man, class 's about to start."

---

---

Beeeeep. Beeeeep. Beeeeep.

“Guuaaghgg…” An odd gurgling type sound came from amongst the lavender smelling sheet. I dainty little hand emerged from the soft blankets and smacked the alarm clock off of the nightstand, making it clatter on the floor.

Beeeeep. Beeeeep. Beeeeep.

“Gaaaahhhhh!” A drowsy Viola flung her entire body from the sheet, sliding simply off of the bed and onto the floor where her alarm clock sat. She pressed the button to stop the alarm, blinking slowly to clear her blurry vision. As soon as she could see straight, her eyes widened in shock as she jolted to her feet, letting the poor, abused alarm clock fell to the floor once more. Viola had an woken up hour late. Class was starting in less than thirty minutes.

In a flurry of blonde hair and flailing arms, Viola managed to slip into a plaid pink button up shirt, some black skinny jeans and black combat boots. She brushed her hair and tied it in a braid in a matter of seconds. Grabbing her bag, she tossed all of her things into it and darted out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Lucky for Vi, she was boarding at the school. Her feet slammed down against the ground below her as she sprinted to the main building. Mid-sprint, she slipped on her special headphones. Viola is rather spoiled by her uncle, but even that rarely seems to show through her dazzling smile and generous attitude. The headphones were actually a joke gift, mainly because of how they were styled. Viola accepted them anyways, embracing the little comical side to the present. They were nice, expensive headphones, but she would take anything her uncle had to offer her.

Viola managed the sustain her sprint for a long time, darting through the halls, narrowly missing slamming into someone and sending them both flying. Some Fall Out Boy pounding into her ears, shaking her soul. She literally skidded to a stop in front of the classroom door, grabbing the door handle to halt her in her sprinting. Viola almost literally flung the door open, a joyful grin spread across her face. She was happy just because she made it to class on time.

With a skip to her step and swing to her arms, she plopped down on a chair next to Charlie, a tomboyish girl with short blue hair. Viola had known Charlie for quite some time, meeting her first in middle school. The two had remained good friends since then.

Viola silently put her headphones into her bag, then pushing it under her chair. The smile was still plastered on her face as she turned to face her blue-haired friend, only to stop short slightly when she saw someone else. Charlie didn’t seem to be paying attention anyways, which made Viola chuckle softly.

“Good morning, Char-chan! I hope I’m not interrupting you…” Her voice had started out strong but faded softly at the end as Viola rested her chin on the palm of her hand, her elbow propped up on the desk. She then shifted in her chair, crossing her legs and lacing her fingers together. Her foot twitched a bit as she stared at the ground. “Do you have any gum? I didn’t have enough time to brush my teeth this morning…” She muttered, suddenly feeling very shy in the presence of the other boy.

"Ha ha, you won't get Charlie's attention with such a quiet voice, er..." Yasuo said, and chuckled at how the blond girl seemed so shy.

"He's in his own world when he's wearing those headphones. I'm Kuwabara Yasuo, just call me Yas though. We've met in swimming, I do believe." Yasuo added, smiling.
hopefully this year will be a good one. Certainly shaping that way. With Vince and Charlie, and this cute girl, though she's probably into Charlie, acting so shy like that... Hmm, seems logical.

"Anyways, if I remember correctly, you are Amantius Viola, or is it Violet?, right? Mind if I called you Vi?" Yasuo asked.

Charlie raised her head to look at the two who had sat down next to her, and offered up a warm smile towards Vi as she pulled out her headphones, summer of 69 coming through before they were cut off as she pressed pause.

"Stop being an idiot Yas." She commented, she was talking more about him mistaking her for a guy again instead of his comment about her music. If she had any musical talent she probably would of been in the music club but sadly it was something she lacked. "Hay Vi, don't mind this big dumbass over here, he can be way to intimidating and stupid but don't hold it against him, he's a sweetheart really." She said jokingly as she paused her friend a pack of spearmint gum before digging around and retrieving a different pack, popping one into her mouth as the bell sounded in the background and people began to move back to their seats as the teacher entered.

Ripping up two pieces of paper from her notebook, she wrote a message on each before throwing them at the addressed people.

"Yas
Bet you juice at practice that Vince will scare away all the new recruits with his kick ass skills. See you at practice later."

"Vi
Want to eat lunch together, meet you on the roof later?"

After each had received their letters, Charlie turned back to the front of the classroom as the teacher began to call roll.

"He's in his own world when he's wearing those headphones. I'm Kuwabara Yasuo, just call me Yas though. We've met in swimming, I do believe. Anyways, if I remember correctly, you are Amantius Viola, or is it Violet?, right? Mind if I called you Vi?"

“Ahh, yes, I do believe we have. Well, its nice to meet you.” Viola flashed a friendly smile in his direction. “Sure, call me whatever you’d like. You know, as long as its not rude or anything…” She trailed off slightly, tucking a piece of loose hair behind her ear. Viola thought quietly to herself. He? She covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. Ignorance is bliss I guess… She chuckled under her breath, wondering what Charlie would have thought if she had said it out loud.

"Stop being an idiot Yas."

“Oh look, Char-chan has finally joined us in the land of the living.” Viola giggled playfully, leaning her elbow on her desk.

"Hay Vi, don't mind this big dumbass over here, he can be way too intimidating and stupid but don't hold it against him, he's a sweetheart really."

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it.” Viola said with a soft hum, taking the gum gladly and popping a piece into her mouth.

As the bell rang, Viola put the rest of the gum package into her bag for later, just in case. Class had just started and Viola was barely awake. She hadn’t gotten much rest that night for two reasons, one was because she was nervous, the other because she had accidentally drained the battery in her phone because she got over-excited thinking about school the next day. Most of the energy that was from the phone was still inside of her body, just waiting to be released, accidentally or not.

After only a few minutes into the class, a paper landed on Viola’s desk, making her flinch and jump back slightly. She opened it up and quickly read the contents of the note and jotted down an answer: Sure! Meet you on the roof later then.

Viola then leaned forward on the desk, her hands hanging off of the front, an inch from the person in front of her’s back. She then flicked the paper in Charlie’s direction, it bouncing off of her forehead before landed on the desk in front of the blue-haired girl. Viola leaned back in her seat and covered her mouth as she giggled silently.

---

"Hay Vi, don't mind this big dumbass over here, he can be way to intimidating and stupid but don't hold it against him, he's a sweetheart really." Charlie said,

"Ha ha, how kind of you, Charlie." Yas replied, chuckling, as he reached out for his notebook. Of course, he wouldn't write notes, but just doodle, but it is always good to keep the farce. He'll have someone explain the class later, but writing notes takes too much time.

As soon as he opened the notebook and began drawing stick figures, (if you could even call those lines and 'circles' stick figures) a small paper landed on his desk, talking about the Vince.

"Ha ha" Yasuo said softly, smiling, and then returned back to doodiling. It was kinda stupid to allow Vince to play on the first day. The soccer team hasn't gotten many new guys due to that. But, not having Vince show off was not an option. Yasuo lived in fear of the man on the court, pissing him off would be a life altering mistake. Yasuo had a hidden demon in him, but Vince... that guy was a demon. On the court, at least.

"Bah! I don't understand any of this!" Yasuo shouted out, in frustration in the middle of class. "It doesn't make any sense! Why was supposed to take notes?! Who was the moron who assigned this?"

"Kuwabara, you should not to shout out like that. The whole purpose of Homeroom is to make everyone get better at everything!" The homeroom teacher exclaimed in response, sweat on her forehead.

"..bah!" Yasuo muttered angrily, returning to taking his notes. No time for doodling, no time for sleeping. What the hell is wrong with this class? Homeroom is suppose to be where Yasuo sleeps, not write! Hell, the only time Yasuo was awake last year was for the preparation of the festival, since a hot girl was running the show. He can't even remember her name, but... Well... Yeah

Sound. From the sonic vibrations to the psychology of it's interpretation, he embodied it all. Whatever sound was made, is made and has yet to be made becomes him. Or at least, that is how he saw it. While the truth eluded him he could only construct a reality from the pieces of his mind left over from the fall. Yes, the fall, the moment he hit the ground and the world shattered with him. He did try to piece himself back together but many of the pieces didn't fit back in evenly. He could of asked the handymen but they both forsook him right before the fall. He couldn't blame them, he didn't respect them like he should of. If only they'd forgive him.

Sleeping wasn't fun for him. He tried to dream but all he could see was the world around him, colorless shapes defined by sonic ricochets. While eyes work by seeing light reflected off objects he saw both with his eyes and with his mind, and the mind's eye could see beyond the walls around him to an extent. He didn't fully control this method of perception, his grasp on how to look around was still tenuous. All he could definitely see was his room, the hall and the rooms adjacent and parallel to his own and a small distance outside his window.

Hearing on the other hand was a beast of a different complexity. Had he not practiced the art of silence he would be hearing all sounds within a several mile radius. He would hear literally everything, from the ever present thunder of footsteps down to the slightest rustling of the grass and even other waves passing through the area, such as radio waves. Ah yes, the artificial waves. Sounds born of nightmare machines, machines designed to imprison sounds and corrupt them until they are nothing but electronic insanity.


Many years of enduring the sounds had taught him how to cope with it all. He learned the art of silence, the golden sound. In his mind he concentrated on emitting the golden sound from himself, fighting back the noises. This way, he was finally able to sleep at last. Of course it wasn't perfect, not yet anyways. Loud enough sounds could still overpower the golden sound much to his chagrin. It was another technique he was working hard to perfect but as anyone knows, perfection is not easy.

His eyes groggily opened as he awoke from his restless slumber. It was another night of poor rest but at least poor rest was better than none. He went about his usual routine for the morning in his new life. Brushing his teeth while holding the toothbrush with his feet was quite a task, he was still a little clumsy with the brush despite the practice. Back in the asylum the staff didn't trust him with a toothbrush so they did all the work for him. Afterwords he wasn't exactly worried about hygiene being all alone with the whole asylum to himself. Now he was expected to look at least reasonably presentable and he didn't have hands to work with. Half of the toothpaste and saliva mixture found itself on his pajama top, older stains attesting to the fact that this wasn't the first time.

As for breakfast he had his favorite: a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich. He wasn't brave enough to use a knife to try and cut some slices of bread to use considering his history with sharp objects so he used the only thing he could rely on.


Shk Shk


The sound of a knife cutting focused into a point finer than a needle and exerting enough pressure to break apart bread. He sliced himself two pieces of bread and put the rest back into it's bag. He didn't fully know just how powerful he could make his sounds cut but he reckoned it would be fun to find out some time. For now though it was time for the peanut butter and jelly. He managed to unscrew the lid to the jar with his feet after a couple minutes of working with it. With a very subtle sound he excited the peanut butter within causing the delicious, smooth, creamy butter goodness to pour out like a liquid. He poured himself just enough peanut butter for his sandwich. Now done with that he tipped the jar back up, licking the excess peanut butter which clung to the rim of the jar up. Taking the lid off was a bit fiddly but putting it back on with his feet took him twice as long as he had to get the lid and screw it on without it falling off.

The matter of applying the jelly was not really different in any significant fashion. Just a matter of working with the cap and putting the jelly on without spilling any. It went with just as much success as the peanut butter. Now with both the peanut butter and the jelly on he could finally taste the fruits of his efforts as he bit into the soft doughy surface of his sandwich. It was practically everything he loved in life. It was soft, it was easy to eat with his feet in lieu of hands, the grape was sweet, the peanut butter was nutty and smooth, it was filling and best of all was that it was quiet. Every other food he's known has been noisier than the good ole' peanut butter jelly sandwich. Breakfast cereal always rattled around like crazy while the milk sloshed and burbled, steaks tended to sizzle and squish most disgustingly and don't get him started on potato chips.


After he was done with his most delectable breakfast he put the jars back in the cabinets which were lined with rows of jars containing both peanut butter and grape jelly. He went ahead and changed out of his pajamas into his usual apparel. It was quite difficult for him to get dressed without hands so he had picked clothes which were rather simple to get into. Even with the simplistic clothing it was still a daily challenge he had to put up with for public decencies sake. Didn't want to go and anger the big head, make it grow large and red and possibly make it explode! That would be bad. He wanted to stay here where he was allowed to live and there was a modicum of safety. Out in the street he was fair game for people like the one who ruined his nice, quiet asylum before making him go ruin his hands and fall out a window onto nasty stabbing glass, made particularly for poking. In order to stay he had to be good, only use the sounds he needed, nothing more. It was a huge sacrifice, giving up free reign of his own domain but it was simply an offer he couldn't refuse.

Still, he tried to not let mean ole' mister big head ruin his super awesome days with his big headiness. Dressed in some relatively boring attire he opened the door with his mouth since his feet were now clad in boots. The doorknob didn't taste very good but there was little he could do about it. If he wanted security he couldn't just make the knob and all it's little bits wiggle loose and fall off. He had to do everything in what he considered to be

excruciatingly long and annoying manners. Still, now that his door was shut it was time to run! But not shuffle, no that would be bad and he had to be good. "Always good, never bad. No play and all work make johnnies day go grey." He repeated to himself in the voice of a creepy little girl, his mouth shut the whole time while he chanted his little mantra and skipped girlishly down the halls and out the doors towards the school. He lived on the schools dormitories because that was the only place he could stay but fortunately that meant his school wasn't too far away. Still, his little skipping trip seemed to take centuries in comparison to the speeds he's shuffled back in the good ole' days.

Finally! In what seemed like forever he finally made it to the class he was supposed to be at. No longer repeating his little saying he looked at the door for at least a solid minute, wondering if he should just run into it and see if it would open that way.

...

Wham!


The door shook as he threw himself at it, simply relying on fates capricious hand to determine the result. Turns out the door really was closed after all. His body bounced back from the door, reeling from the impact. He wasn't badly hurt in any real sense but it did sting. Then again, he was familiar with pain to say the least.

He took the time to shake his boot off and open the door with his foot before sliding his footwear back on. He strode into the classroom quite triumphantly, acting as though nothing abrupt just occurred. Weaving through the small maze of desks he quickly found one that wasn't occupied which he assumed was his by process of elimination. He dropped himself into his seat and looked around with one eyebrow quirked up, his eyes following the odd stares accompanying the awkward silence that followed after his rather unorthodox entrance. He failed to notice the bruise which was already starting to develop on his forehead.

Things started to normalize after the moment passed, people resuming their studies. Inevitably it came to his sudden realization that he was under equipped for the class, possessing neither a pencil nor paper on his person. He looked around at all the other people who were writing on their paper, more or less. Hmm, seems to be quite the pickle. Good thing I'm a pickleologist! He started to ponder a solution to his current quandary.

He theorized that he could try and hold on to the sound of the teacher speaking, taking an echo of his words home and then studying the sound instead. Sounds good! But not too good, no. Much too loud. So much noise... He really didn't appreciate being stuck inside a building full of people. People itching, moving, speaking, pencils rubbing, chalk squeaking, chairs sliding, blood running, hearts pumping, eyes blinking, cells gurgling and much more. He was permitted use of the golden sound on himself alone, that was the deal he made after all. He couldn't take the full effect of all these sounds in his head all the time if he wasn't allowed to manage it.


The golden sound dulled the incoming sounds as they approached him, filtering out the quieter sounds so he could focus on what was going on. He listened to the teacher speak, taking an echo of the words so he could listen to it after school was over and done with. He looked around at the other students around him. He knew little about most of them. He had a passing knowledge of the other people who were in Track and Field.

Art wasn't very popular it seemed as he didn't see a lot of people in it. There were a few people here he recalled seeing on the roster for art. There was Haruki, Kaori and Norio just to name a few.

He wondered just how long until fate would flip this day upside down, or perhaps right side up considering how dull it was already. With his golden sound up and functional it was harder for him to get distracted by the noises around. him. Even the scratching of the pencils were alleviated by this most familiar golden sound, the absence of sound. It was just quiet enough in this room for him to properly listen to the teacher. There were other people talking in the classroom, not being all too considerate he believed. All he could do was sit, his eyes darting about suspiciously, and pretend he was doing something instead of just sitting there. Gotta be good... Not bad...