Lately I have been obsessed with writing text instead of drawing illustrations and making music. This time I would like to experiment with posting one on Newgrounds.

Before that, I love English, but I am not that good at it, so if there is anything you think should be grammatically corrected, please let me know.

========================

Clouds at the Beginning of Summer

                Shuichi shielded the sun with his right hand as he looked up at the sky. It was a cloudless day, the sky was incredibly blue, especially the celestial blue closer to space, as if it could swallow everything. Suddenly, the familiar electronic sound echoed. Shuichi was accustomed to that sound. It didn't startle him, but the wave of cheers carried his gaze off into the distance. The sound emanated from the area around the electronic scoreboard that said "42nd Kyoto So-and-so Track and Field Record Meet" in black letters. As a signal, female athletes in different colored uniforms ran toward him, avoiding the shade of the roof above their heads, showered with cheers from the crowd in the deep orange track. They finished their prescribed distance run, then lingered on the course for a while, walking, before finally taking their designated positions, each bowing respectfully before dispersing. The announcer's voice reverberated, informing the audience that there was a tailwind of 2.4 meters per second during the race. During the dispersal, some athletes exchanged shoulder bumps with teammates in the same school uniform, some disappeared into the dressing room without changing expressions, while others happily bounced along, exchanging friendly gestures with someone in the audience.

                Shuichi sat on a light blue bench warmed by the bright sunshine, merely watching the repetition. He positioned himself slightly away from the track. The area around Shuichi was sparsely populated with spectators, likely members of the track team from various schools, clad in white sports attire or jerseys, either attentively watching the performance of friends and seniors or chatting leisurely, perhaps bored with the proceedings.

                "Simple," A familiar girl's voice suddenly came from behind. It was Hinako's voice, with her unmistakable Hokkaido accent, always seeming to be planning to amuse someone with her tongue-tied speech.

                Shuichi, upon glimpsing the white thighs extending from deep green running briefs atop the light blue bench, immediately turned his gaze to the photographers positioned closest to the athletes instead of looking at the speaker. They all wore sashes bearing the name of a magazine or television station written in unreadable characters. Clad uniformly in dark-colored clothing, unusual for the day's temperature, the white sashes stood out conspicuously.

                "Simple, don't you think? That's Katagiri-chan. The girl with the ponytail in the same uniform as me. She's talking to the coach right now," Hinako said. "Since that girl joined, we've seen a lot of guys like that."

                Shuichi offered perfunctory agreement to Hinako's words but couldn't muster the interest to search for the player matching her description. He didn't remember what uniform Hinako wore or what the advisor looked like.

                "It's just your imagination," Shuichi muttered under his breath. "You're overthinking."

                According to Hinako, the girl had joined the track team this year and could run the 100 meters in under twelve seconds. But Shuichi couldn't quite grasp the significance. When Hinako mentioned it, he feigned interest, saying things like, "So she runs the 50 meters in under six seconds," but apart from understanding that it was a running ability far beyond his own, Shuichi didn't really get it.

                "They're always there," Shuichi said with a faint smile. "And you're not just doing this to get their attention, are you?"

                "That's a mean way of putting it," Hinako pouted. "You've never been praised by anyone in your life, so you can say that."

                Shuichi felt annoyed. It was probably her way of getting back at him.

                "You're right," Shuichi said. "I've never won in any competition measured by cold-blooded numbers."

                Suddenly, Shuichi noticed a figure limping away from a long-distance track; although her expression was unreadable, it was clear from her behavior that she was crying.

                "Obsessed..." Shuichi muttered, not feeling sorry for her, but thinking about it.

                "Is that like, 'I'm not bound by the standards set by adults'?" Hinako asked. "Sort of rebellious?"

                Shuichi sighed and said, "Yeah." There wasn't much else to say in response.

                "That sounds... you know, kinda like sour grapes."

                "Yeah. I know."

                I averted my gaze from the figure. It seemed pitiful to keep staring at her forever.

                "You seem to be low on energy again today," Hinako sighed. Hinako was wearing a white shirt with a cheap, colorful logo that was probably designed by some of the kids on her track team. She probably had pants that we would wear for gym class, but she didn't wear them, opting instead for briefs that looked like a swimsuit, which made her muscular legs stand out oddly.

                "Do you want to see me energetic?" Shuichi asked.

                "Of course." Hinako answered.

                Upon hearing that response, Shuichi suddenly thought about how he must be lamenting his own smallness compared to those standing on the sunny stage, and he considered saying something to please Hinako, but just as those words were about to come out, he noticed other athletes crouched in a row at the starting line over there. For some reason, he blurted out, "Let's bet on who will win." From the moment he uttered those words, their meaning eluded Shuichi himself, but surprisingly, Hinako chuckled lightly and said, "This isn't horse racing." Hinako had a sense of humor.

                "I bet on the red one all the way to the right. Now bet, bet. If you win, I'll buy you a sports drink," Shuichi said.

                "What if I lose? What should I give you?"

                Shuichi thought for a moment. And he was surprised at himself for thinking about it. It was strange to him that he hadn't even considered winning the bet.

                While they were talking, without waiting for them to place their bets, the starting signal echoed across the track and field, and the athletes, once again bathed in similar cheers, all began to run.

                "How cold of you," Shuichi sighed deeply. "It was a chance for me to treat you."

                "I said there was no guarantee I would win."

                Shuichi shook his head.

                "There was. Anyone I support always loses. Whether it's the basket team, the swimmer, anything. I'm bad at betting. The worst in the world. That's why I hate 'spectating'."

                "You hate gambling."

                "I curse my own fate," Shuichi sighed deeply again. "I've heard a rumor. There are 'lucky spectators' in the world who, at the first game they've ever attended to cheer for, see their favorite team win a heated match in the end. It's like an urban legend... At least to me, those people are urban legends."

                "You're funny..."

                Hinako laughed oddly, and somehow, Shuichi found that very comforting.

                Suddenly, Shuichi took out the Mintia (a brand of sugarless mints) he had in his pocket, and with a trembling hand, he put two or three pellets in his palm and threw them into his mouth.

                "Looks tasty," Hinako said, extending her hand to Shuichi. "I'll have some too."

                Shuichi looked puzzled. "Are you really going to eat food that was in someone else's pocket?"

                "You're exaggerating," Hinako laughed. "You're so meticulous."

                "It's the opposite. Because I'm so careless that I don't understand other people's standards."

                Once again, Shuichi accidentally dropped about five pellets into Hinako's palm and, ashamed, turned away before she could put them in her mouth.

                For a while, he imagined her throwing them like beans into a distant truck at the Setsubun Festival as soon as she received them, and he smirked.

                Suddenly, from behind, Hinako's voice came.

                "By the way, were you watching me on the track?" Hinako asked with a mischievous smile.

                "Of course, I was," Shuichi said, showing her a booklet with the running order Hinako had given him beforehand.

                "Well," Hinako sighed exaggeratedly, as if she were in an old comedy show, "it must be because of that."

                "I'm sorry."

                "Don't apologize," Hinako said with a wicked smile. "It's a joke. Just kidding."

                "I'm really sorry."

                Also Shuichi wanted to keep the conversation as a joke as Hinako suggested, but gradually her punches felt more like body blows, and his expression darkened.

                In the midst of a brief silence, the noise of the audience filled the air, adding to Shuichi's sense of loneliness. Just as he was about to say, "Don't you have to go back to your friends?" Hinako suddenly, as if she had seen through him, said in a voice that clearly intimidated her interlocutor, "I have something to tell you."

                "Please, please don't," Shuichi said. "I'm the worst person to tell."

                "I'm thinking of quitting the club," Hinako said.

                Shuichi found it strange why she would confide this in him. It was both strange and infuriating. Not that he was angry with her, but he was angry with whatever had prompted her to say it.

                "Why?" Shuichi asked gently.

                "Are you disappointed?" Hinako said.

                "I don't understand what you're talking. Why..." Why does everyone I support, why does everyone I wish success for...

                "I want to quit the club," Hinako said.

                Her voice was intermittently drowned out by cheers, and even that sound was drowned out by the noise of the helicopters flying overhead. Shuichi didn't know how to react at a time like this. Should I smile? Should I cheerfully comfort her? Or should I get angry and say, "Don't talk nonsense! I have envied you for a long time," while tears welled up in my eyes? He didn't know anything.

                Suddenly, Shuichi envied those who could pretend to see through human emotions and speak as if they understood everything.

                "Sorry. I could not tell anyone else," Hinako said.

                Shuichi found all the noise around him irritating. He thought about suggesting that they find a quieter place to talk.

                "You don't need to apologize. There's no way I, of all people, would be disappointed in you," Shuichi said. "If anything, I'm the one who's scared."

                "Scared of what? Me?" Hinako asked, her smile dropping like lead in the hearts of those who witnessed it.

                Contrary to his true feelings, Shuichi shook his head.

                "I used to think that everyone but me was surely running smoothly on a more ordinary, more 'general-purpose' and more excellent operating system than mine. I unconsciously believed that without any doubt," he said.

                "Put it in simpler terms."

                "Isn't it simple enough?" Shuichi argued. "I always thought that everyone was living much more peacefully than me."

                After a moment of silence, Hinako spoke again. "Everyone isn't that strong."

                "I see."

                "At least, I'm not that strong."

                Surely, Shuichi imagined, to someone who didn't understand Japanese, her words would sound like a clear rejection. But in reality, Shuichi felt his own thoughts being oppressed by other invisible resident programs. That feeling of not being able to reach even simple answers.

               "This is the first time I've seen someone who isn't strong, Kanzaki. That's why I'm afraid."

                "You should get used to it soon" Hinako said. "You'll probably experience it so much from now on, Shuichi."

                Shuichi smiled awkwardly.

                "Kanzaki isn't the bad one. Everyone is filled with 'horribleness.' They just hide it."

                "I want advice. I want you to listen to me," Hinako said, as if she were about to add 'definitely' after every other word.

                "Advice...?" Shuichi stumbled.

                "I'm like a malfunctioning computer as you say. So, if there's a way to fix it, I want you to tell me. You're good at that, right?" Hinako's tone was unusually upbeat. Shuichi thought normal people, at least people like Hinako, would stake their lives on hiding such emotions.

                If there were a 'correct' response to this question, it would undoubtedly be encouraging words to brighten her mood. She must be waiting for that. But such words, even if said by himself, would only feel lukewarm. Shuichi agonized over which was more sinful, to be defiant or to stammer.

                "You shouldn't blame yourself for not being able to do it alone," Shuichi said. "It's not your fault if you can't muster the effort. It's not your fault if you want to quit the club. There are plenty of people who'll try to blame your problems on you... but you shouldn't believe them. Maybe your unhappiness is someone else's fault. Perhaps it's your advisor's or your sempais', or maybe even your friends'. ...It doesn't have to be 'someone'. It could be something's fault."

                "They're all good people," Hinako interjected. "That's why it's hard. If there were someone I disliked among them... I wouldn't be so troubled."

                "If you're tormented by guilt, you should just discard it... That's what I read in a book yesterday."

                "Thank you," Hinako offered a strained smile. "Those are words typical of you."

                "You're welcome," Shuichi sighed. He felt like her words were prefixed with various curses like 'uncooperative (you...)', 'unable to get along with anyone (you...)', 'unable to make anyone happy (you...)' — types of dull pain he'd never experienced before, which he completely masked with his apathy. For him, it was undoubtedly a cowardly act to protect his own pride.

                "Now, Kashizaki... why do..." Shuichi's words were interrupted by Hinako.

                "What kind of scenery can you see right now?"

                Hinako gently placed her hand on Shuichi's right hand. Her hand felt sweaty, warm, more human than any other human's touch. It was a comforting yet painful sensation. He should react by brushing it off, being surprised, or jumping up. But because of the deep wound he'd just received, Shuichi couldn't move his body or utter a word.

                "You're not interested, are you?" Shuichi said.

                The scorching sunlight seemed to be deliberately blocked by the cumulus clouds at the beginning of summer, making the surroundings slightly less dazzling.

                "Hey, tell me. What kind of world can you see?" Hinako leaned closer to Shuichi's ear and said, "I'm interested in that."

                She seemed about to entrust her body to Shuichi.

                "Hell," Shuichi said with a sad expression. "It's enough for me to see this scenery alone. At least..."

                Hinako wrapped her arms around Shuichi's shoulder. Through his sweaty shirt, Shuichi could feel Hinako's breasts. Even through the fabric, he could discern the outline of her bra.

                "At least, I don't want to show it to you."

                "As a thank-you from me, show me that world too."

                Suddenly, Hinako leaned into Shuichi, then burst into tears loudly. And like a drowning kitten, she clung to Shuichi's body and cried. And Shuichi began to be plagued by the most sinful fantasy in the world.