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The Weakest Link (Part 2: Seishiro)

Yukan Club
The Weakest Link
Part 2: Seishiro

 

 

In Seishiro’s world, things were orderly. Therefore, it was natural that he would strike up a friendship (he refused to comment beyond that,) with Noriko, who was also a very orderly person. Miroku was a little odd, but more or less under control, adding a spice to life while still being able to hold himself to a level of decorum when necessary.

The other three were a mystery to him. The day the Student Union had been formed had been a horrible day for Seishiro. But the days weren’t horrible now. In fact, he looked forward to them.

Because he could see Yuri, he felt happy. Because he could see Karen, he felt there was a point to getting up in the morning. Because he could see Bido, he felt good about the person he was. Because he could see Miroku, he felt like laughing. Because he could see Noriko, he felt like tomorrow would be just as good.

When had they grown to need each other so much? When had they made the transition from a bunch of bored people in a clubroom, to a group of people who cared so deeply for each other? And again, most important, why?

Seishiro didn’t know, but Seishiro always knew.

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Miroku was an oddball, who clearly did not get the concept of “Don’t do that, you fool!” Seishiro had to say such things so often that he was getting good at pre-empting the moment, luckily for Miroku.

These days, Seishiro felt frustrated. There were so few things that he knew, when he was used to knowing everything. When people turned to him, asking “Seishiro, what do we do?” he always had an answer. He always knew.

Just as he knew that Miroku, despite being outwardly brave, actually had a tendency to faint in high-tension situations and often had to go to a corner and cry in touching situations. He knew that Noriko, despite her pronounced hatred of men, actually wished she knew how to be a little more girly. (Just a little, sometimes, now and then.) He knew that Yuri, while seemingly uncaring about such things, cared about boys as much as Karen, and hoped to find someone with enough in common with her that they could be happy. (ex: gluttonous fool.) Karen secretly wanted to marry for love, even if they’d be poor, and Bido wanted to be something other than pretty.

But now, he didn’t have all the answers, and the things he knew seemed so unimportant. What good was it to know algebraic formulas if he could one day wake up to see Bido shot before his own eyes? What use were all the facts on his friends if they couldn’t help him discover who was framing Miroku? What good was it to be so smart?

And when did he start to care?

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There were many traits and personality flaws that made Seishiro want to beat his friends over the head with a stick. Yuri was a moron. She ate all the time, and never studied. Noriko was cold, hard to read and never, ever gave you a break. Karen was shallow, flirted with everybody and wore too much perfume. Miroku played his guitar too loud.

All of these things could be cured, tolerated, or amusement could be drawn from them. Moreover, Seishiro knew that such things were ingrained into his friend’s personalities; they couldn’t help it, and to take it away would cause his friends to cease being themselves. (For some reason, Seishiro had started to view this as a bad thing.)

But it was Bido’s utter inability to walk around a corner without spinning that drove Seishiro over the edge. Because, really, there was no call for that.

“Honestly, can you walk down the hall like a normal person?” he had finally shouted, frustrated beyond compare. Bido blinked, then proceeded to walk in a stiff manner, eyes ahead, and keeping up a monotone dialogue all the way to the clubroom.

“Hi, I’m Seishiro. Life’s so serious, I never laugh, I never enjoy anything but I’m smarter than you, so I don’t care. I’m so proper, respectable and so high above everybody-Look! I practically glide when I walk! I should give everybody walking lessons. Come here, Yuri! I’ve just invented a machine that will electrocute you every time you take an imperfect step.”

The voice was a little humorous, (though not like his in any way) but Seishiro was not amused. Miroku, however, nearly choked on his lollipop. Karen and Yuri snickered. Noriko’s mouth twitched. And Bido laughed and continued to spin around corners as he pleased.

If it had been anyone else, Seishiro would have given them a piece of his mind. It it were Miroku, he’d have hit him. If it were Yuri, he’d have some sort of electrocution device hooked up. (He did have a horrible sadistic side that he liked to indulge.)

But it was Bido.

When did that fact start to carry weight?

In the end, he did nothing.

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It was really good that Miroku was a lousy liar, having done something so irresponsible as to break out of his house, go to an abandoned building where a known gang hung out and then pass out on the floor. Thankfully, the rest of Yukan Club saw through his pathetic attempt to protect them and decided to follow their friend to possible death. And so, found themselves as the rescue party.

A rescue party of... one. Yuri counted, true, but having the other three around was like subtracting a third. Why did they do this to themselves? Why did they bring along people who were useless and would only slow them down? Why did they come, and not inform the police? Why did they even care in the first place?

Seishiro didn’t know. But Miroku was in trouble, and for some reason, that mattered, and so, they all had to be there, whether they could help or not.

Because, for some reason, Miroku wanted to protect all of them. And they wanted to protect Miroku. Why? They had been through many things together. They helped each other. They were equals.

But that didn’t explain Bido.

Bido was useless. Bido was loud and annoying. Bido contributed nothing to anything, generally made things worse, and was hardly the first (in fact, he was last,) choice if one wanted friendly comfort, advice or sympathy. Bido was no one’s equal.

And yet, when he was in trouble, without thinking, Seishiro would run to his aid, put himself in harm’s way rather than see someone hurt one hair on Bido’s pretty head. (And with Seishiro around, no one ever did.)

It made him feel good, to do that.

He didn’t know why. He had thought about it so many times. “That’s what buddies are for.” Seishiro felt good, protecting all his friends, even the useless ones and the ones who fainted and cried at the drop of a hat. And the others felt good, knowing there was someone who would come and save them. That’s what friends were for then, even if you didn’t know quite why you were friends with certain people. (Certain= all 5)

But, maybe it was okay if he didn’t know the answer. As long as it was just this one thing.

 

 

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