Chris Schumacher
10th August 2006, 12:43 AM
KOR: Spring Wonder
!
Kimagure Orange Road
Spring Wonder
Chapter 1
Written By: Chris Schumacher
Based on the characters and situation created by Matsumoto Izumi.
They stood in winter-chilled grass before the worn stone. The
marble had faded over the years. Gone was the melodious mixture of
vibrant blues and cool greys. The stone had sat here for many lonely
years, a sentinel of the dead.
Etched on its surface were lines, swirls, loops, dashes and
points which represented thoughts: symbols. The largest symbols meant:
spring, sun, beauty, sunrise. The beautiful rise of the spring sun.
These symbols were a name: Akemi Kasuga.
Today was the first day of spring, sixteen years after Akemi's
last breath. Those that Akemi left behind stood before the marker,
dressed all in white. There were three children that Akemi wouldn't
have recognized, and a husband who was almost two decades older.
Kyosuke only had one memory of his mother, an inconsequential one:
little more than a tattered strip of film in his mind, an eternally
replaying image of a woman walking across a room. He couldn't even
remember her face.
Neither Manami or Kurumi had ever known their mother: their
entrance into the world had forced her exit. Manami always lived with
the guilt of what her life cost her family.
As she stared at her sister, she wondered if she felt the same
kind of guilt. Though Manami wondered if Kurumi had yet the emotional
depth to hold such a view.
Takeshi remembered the day it happened. He'd been in the room.
He remembered gushing over Kurumi and her "cute little bald head".
Then the horrible silence that followed, as his wife said nothing. He
turned, his head feeling heavier than it possibly could be. The doctor
was concerned, nurses ran into the room. There was a whining noise from
a machine in the corner. This can't be happening: it just can't.
This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life... When
the doctor pronounced the time, he felt like a shard of cold,
crystal-clear glass thrust into his heart. How can you move between so
many extremes so rapidly? How could this be real? How could his
daughters never know their mother?
Kyosuke looked at his crying father. He felt a little embarrassed,
but that was dwarfed by the horror he felt. His father was the bedrock
of their family. If he could be overcome with emotion like this...
Then his dad was just a normal person like him... or his mother. Oh
god, his father was going to die one day. How could he live in a world
without him? How could the world go on without his father in it?
Kurumi had trouble summoning sorrow for someone she never knew,
and only felt a nagging sense of guilt. She spent the whole time
thinking about spoons.
-> -> ->
Laughter filled the smoky air around their table. Kurumi stood on
the table and danced jerkily to the Duran Duran song the DJ was playing.
"What's this one called?" Kyosuke asked.
"'Avenue Skill', I think," Komatsu said.
Kyosuke ran those two words through his brain. He remembered very
little English, and the name didn't make much sense to him, but hey,
it sounded good. That's what mattered, right?
"Get down here, Kurumi, before you break something," Ayukawa said.
Kurumi stuck her tongue out and did a few kicks in the direction
of the dance floor. Hatta laid back in his seat, trying to get a look
up her skirt. Kyosuke reached across the table and punched him in the
arm.
"You no good pervert!" Kyosuke shouted.
"Hey! You know you'd look if Hikaru was up there!" Hatta said.
Kyosuke sighed through his nostrils. It was hard to admit, but
he probably would.
It was too dark for Komatsu to get a good peek. He leaned back in
his chair and closed his eyes. He couldn't believe nobody wanted to be
part of his next project. TAP GUN 2: This Time It's Personal--how could
that possibly fail?
Hikaru refused to work with him because of TAP GUN's ending.
Kasuga told him to stick it. Ayukawa said life was too short.
Kurumi couldn't sit still during filming, and had consequently only shown
up in 30 seconds of the finished film. Even that was a bitch to shoot,
with Kurumi's wild gesticulations and frequent ad-libbing.
If the movie had been better received, they might be more inclined
to help. However the reviews in the Indie Film magazines were some of
the worst he ever read. There was one that seemed okay at first;
but then he realized that "derivative", in a non-mathematical context,
was a bad thing.
Kurumi's foot came down on the bowl of beer nuts. One nut shot up
at an angle and hit him in the eye.
"I'm blind! My film career is over! Now the world will have to do
without the next Stephen Spielberg!" Komatsu whined.
"Just as well," Akane said, sipping her beer. "One of them was too
many."
"What?" Hikaru sputtered. "You don't like Spielberg? But that E.T.
was sooo cute!"
"You know, I was just thinking about that movie the other day.
I'm starting to think it was a parable about nudism," Madoka said.
"Oh?" Kasuga asked, as he succeeded in pulling his sister down
from the table. "How's that?"
"If those guys didn't walk around naked, they'd have pockets.
And if they had pockets, they could carry around communicators.
Then it wouldn't have taken E.T. a month to build that damn thing,"
Madoka said.
"Wow, you really spent a lot of time thinking about that movie,
didn't you?" Manami asked.
Madoka started to blush. She wasn't about to admit she'd seen the
movie 17 times. Though she stopped crying when E.T. died around the
fifth time.
Akane stared at Madoka's beautifully blushing cheeks. She felt
a giddy warmness fill her chest. Then she felt her stomach cramping.
She was so close to Madoka right now. She could physically reach
out and touch her... But Madoka had no idea how she felt, so there
might as well have been an ocean between them.
But looking at Madoka now made her feel warm inside. Though she
was sure that was partially due to the half-gallon of beer in her gut.
Sometimes she woke up in the morning, and before she opened her
eyes, she imagined a nude Madoka next to her. She'd sit there,
watching Madoka sleep. Seeing Madoka's face--far too often drooping
with sorrow, or contorting with rage--in an expression of peaceful
bliss.
She wished she could stick a teddy bear in the bed next to her
and use her powers of illusion to make it look like Madoka, but she
was the only person who those powers didn't work on.
Ironically, that was the only good use she could find for the damn
thing.
-> -> ->
They left Disco Moebius at 11:27, exactly five minutes after
Kurumi vomited for the first time; they did not leave by choice.
The slightly-chilly night air was a welcome change from the
tobacco smoke-filled interior of Disco Moebius. Madoka could feel her
head clearing already, though she still saw small haloes around lights.
There wasn't a cloud in the sky, the stars shone brightly far above
them.
Kurumi sat on the curb, her head between her knees. Her stomach
gave off threatening noises. Madoka sat next to her, her arm draped
over Kurumi's shoulders.
"What're we going to do?" Manami said. "Dad can't see this!"
Kasuga sneered at his inebriated sister. "Have you even heard of
'self-control', Kurumi?! We're going to get grounded for this!"
"Keep your voice down!" Ayukawa said.
"Ooohh... If I'm sitting still, why is the world still moving?"
Kurumi said.
"Keep your eyes open, Kurumi. Closing them only makes it worse,"
Madoka said.
Kurumi opened her eyes and looked at the street. "That's a little
better... I still fell like I'm on a roller coaster, though."
"How long is this going to take to wear off?" Akane asked.
"Hmmm," Hikaru said. "That was a whole glass of brandy, so I'd
say it'd be at least five hours."
"That's four hours after our curfew," Manami said.
"She can dry out at my place," Madoka said.
Suddenly Kasuga stopped pacing. Manami looked relieved. Akane
looked a little happy. Madoka had lived alone ever since her sister had
moved out. It was a large house, with many bedrooms and bathrooms: the
perfect place for a drunk to lay low.
"Well, okay then," Kasuga said.
Madoka jumped to her feet, and pulled Kurumi up. "The trouble is
getting there. Hikaru and I've been ticketed for underage drinking
before. We're going to have to be careful."
Hikaru put on her serious face. "Right. I'll run on ahead and
run interference. Be careful though, no puking in the street."
Hikaru started to run in the general direction of Madoka's house.
"Aside from Hikaru, we've all had a bit to drink. So let's split
up, take parallel streets. Kurumi and I'll stick together," Madoka
said.
Akane, Manami and Kasuga scampered off. Madoka slung her arm
around Kurumi and helped her down the street.
Kyosuke was glad that Ayukawa chose to escort Kurumi. Aside
from not wanting to be vomited on, he didn't think he could stand up
to a cop the way Ayukawa could.
He was about 3 kilometers from Ayukawa's house, so he'd get there
in about half an hour. He reached the end of the current block and
looked down the alley. He heard footsteps from the street on the other
end. After a moment, Darth Vader walked into the alley. He turned to
face Kyosuke and held his right hand out in a choking grip.
Kyosuke started at the sight. He gritted his teeth and chided
himself. "Very funny, Akane," Kyosuke said.
A girlish chuckle came from within Vader's mask. The illusion
faded away gradually, like fog in the wind.
"Just trying to keep you on your toes, cousin," Akane said.
Later, Kyosuke heard familiar shuffling footsteps behind him. He
turned around to see his sister walk towards him, moonlight gleamed
off the lenses of her glasses.
"Mind if I walk with you oniichan?" she whispered when she got
near. "I'd rather not walk alone."
"Sure," Kyosuke said, and the two began to walk in lockstep.
Manami suddenly thrust her arm onto her brother's chest, and the
two skidded to a halt. She pointed at the pavement, and her brother's
gaze followed. There was an arrow on the pavement, drawn in eyeliner.
Next to it was drawn a curly hiragana "hi".
"Police box in the next block," Manami said.
"Oh, yeah," Kyosuke said.
They walked off the street, following the arrow, and found
themselves in a park. There was another road that ran parallel, just
over the hill. Kyosuke didn't remember there being any police boxes on
it, at least not until they reached Ayukawa's house.
"It's a bit... dark," Manami said.
"It's all right, I'll be with you. And I don't think there's a
thug on this planet that can take two ESPers at once," Kyosuke
said.
Manami and her brother trudged through the newly mown grass.
The only light Manami could see was cast from the street lamps far
behind them, and a halo that crested the dark hill in front of them.
She could barely see her hand in front of her face. She reached out
and grabbed her older brother's hand. He returned the grip firmly.
"Steady now, no reason to be frightened," her brother said.
The small spasm of fear ended, and Manami calmed down. As
long as onnichan was here, she thought, things would work out. He
always took care of her, for as long as she could remember.
She took in the shimmering stars high above them. It had been a
very warm day, so it seemed strange that Orion, or any of the summer
constellations, weren't in the sky.
But back to onnichan... She found it strange that all of the
things lacking in Komatsu were present in her brother. Was she using
her brother as a template for her ideal partner? Was that a "well"
thing to do? Even though it appeared, on the surface, incestuous, it
didn't seem wrong.
Why couldn't more guys be like her brother? Maybe they were, but
they just acted differently towards their sisters than towards their
girlfriends. She had to remember that there was things Komatsu wanted
from her that her brother didn't.
-> -> ->
"...and with it being so late, dad, I think you can understand,"
Manami said.
Even though Kyosuke was sitting in an uncomfortable dining room
chair, he found himself dozing off. He sat up, and the sight of his
bespectacled sister on the phone snapped into sharp focus. So sharp,
in fact, that he realized that he must be sober again.
"Oh no, Kyosuke's already on his way home," Manami said, sparing
her brother a glance.
"Awww!" Kyosuke sighed.
"And could you please pass the message on to Akane's parents as
well? Thanks, love you, bye," Manami hung up the phone.
"You're a very good liar," Kyosuke noted. "You should be a
lawyer."
Manami stuck her tongue out at him. Kyosuke smiled inwardly. It
was nice to see her act immature again once in a while. It reminded him
that, somewhere beneath that motherish persona, the Manami he grew up
with still existed.
Several chunks of partially digested yakitori and french fries
floated in the toilet. Kurumi pulled her head back, and closed her
bloodshot eyes. She heard a clinking of glass and metal from behind
her, and the soft padding footsteps of Madoka's slippered feet.
"Here, drink this," Madoka said.
"Whazzit?" Kurumi slurred.
"It's better you drink it first," Ayukawa said.
Somewhere in Kurumi's clouded mind something told her that made
sense. She took the glass and quaffed the liquid inside. She tasted it
for just a second, and it was unlike anything she'd tasted before.
Or more to the point, like a bunch of things that she'd tasted before,
but never together. She felt a heave starting.
"Keep it down!" Madoka said urgently. "You'll thank yourself
tomorrow."
Kurumi fought the urge to hurl, and with a few deep swallows
managed to keep the concoction down.
"What was that?" Kurumi asked again.
"Water, pickle juice, soy sauce, sesame oil..." she trailed off.
Kurumi felt herself fighting the heaves again.
"Here," Madoka said, handing Akane the nightgown. "You'll have to
change in here, Kurumi's still throwing up in the bathroom."
Akane's mind raced; was Madoka going to change in front of her?
That would be so... Oh, she sighed. Madoka walked into the hallway
and closed the door behind her.
That's a shame--Akane wasn't shy at all... Damn it.
Akane started to pull off her tank-top, but stopped and looked
around the room. She'd never been in Madoka's room before, she realized.
Everything was so vibrant and light. There were no lame pastels, just
bright, solid, primary colors.
She walked over to her desk and looked at the bookshelf. Quite a
selection. The Odyssey, The Great Gatsby (in English!), Harusame
Monogatari (so, she had a macabre bent)...
Akane felt a knotting in her stomach. That horrible,
all-too-familar feeling of hopelessness.
Why didn't Madoka love her?
Did she even realize how Akane felt about her? About how she
lulled herself to sleep at night by imagining the pillow talk between
them?
She saw a picture of Kyosuke on Madoka's dresser. God, she
couldn't believe that putz had a better chance of ending up with Madoka
than she did. And he had Hikaru, too, and all she had was... Well,
Yuki... But that was another case of unrequited love all together.*
She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, filling her lungs
with Madoka's scent. Madoka was so beautiful, so smart, so graceful,
so perfect... Why was Akane so damned, to have this goddess enter her
life, but as nothing more than a friend?
She opened her eyes, and wondered how long she'd been in Madoka's
room. She jumped up and pulled off her tank top, dropped her shorts,
and pulled on the nightgown.
She felt an electric pulse shoot up her spine as she did so. She
suddenly felt warm in a very personal place. This was Madoka's
nightgown. This piece of cotton had spent countless nights rubbing
against her skin. She sniffed the sleeve, but smelled only the faintest
hint of laundry detergent: Madoka's scent was gone.
For a moment Akane considered putting on some of Madoka's panties:
but she supposed that was crossing the line. That was the sort of
thing that Komatsu would do.
"Has the room stopped spinning?" Madoka asked.
Kurumi opened her eyes for a moment. "Yeah," she said weakly.
Madoka smiled. Many families had hangover cures, but hers was the
only one she knew of that had a cure for the worst parts of drunkenness.
Madoka tucked Kurumi in. When she looked up, she saw that Kurumi
was already fast asleep. She really envied someone who could fall
asleep so quickly. Madoka was not the type of person who fell asleep
in class or while watching TV. She needed to completely relax before
she could sleep, and that usually took about forty-five minutes from
the moment her head hit the pillow.
While looking at Kurumi's peaceful, sleeping face, she felt an odd,
warm tinge in her. She wondered if this is what it was like to be a big
sister. The sweetly warm feel was tinged with bitterness, as she now
regretted never having the opportunity.
In the living room the long-shuttered windows had been thrown
open, and pure, cool spring air permeated the room. An old jazz melody
lilted through the air, composed of strong and certain keystrokes from
Katsuhiro Ayukawa's grand piano.
Madoka's friends were gathered around the table in the center of
the room. Each of them was enthralled by the deceptively simple tune
that Madoka's slender fingers played for them.
When she finished, they applauded.
"Woohoo!" Hikaru shouted. "Wonderful as ever, Madoka!"
"You're truly talented," Manami said, breathlessly.
"That's some of the most moving music I've heard in my entire
life," Akane said.
Madoka stood and took a bow. The applauding recommenced. Madoka
walked over to the table, and sat down next to Hikaru.
They talked long into the night. The night air coming through the
open window became cooler and crisper as the night wore on.
The topic of conversation had turned to boys: as it always seemed
to these days.
"Komatsu?" Hikaru said. "Pffft. Complete perv. Don't let him get
you alone."
Manami started to turn a little red from embarrassment. Hikaru
noticed she often did when the conversation veered towards sexual
matters.
"He's better than Hatta, though," Madoka said. "Hatta's got all
the hormones and none of the brains. He gives lie to the myth of
glasses denoting intelligence."
"It's too bad they can't all be like sempai," Hikaru sighed.
"Kyosuke?" Akane said with a snort. "He's Komatsu with bedroom
eyes."
"He is not! He's kind and honorable! Why he's never once tried
to take advantage of me!" Hikaru said. She tried to keep the regret
out of her voice.
"I have to say, I couldn't hope for a better big brother," Manami
sputtered, quick to change the conversation. "Though he's a little
full of himself."
"You've been rather quiet, Madoka," Akane said. "What do you think
of Kyosuke?"
Hikaru noticed a strange tone in her voice; but she couldn't make
sense of it. Madoka was silent for a long moment.
Finally she said: "Well, if Hikaru likes him, that's good enough
for me."
Hikaru felt a suddenly tightness in her chest. Something was
wrong; she felt like this sometimes when they talked about Kyosuke
There was something wrong, but she couldn't quite put her finger on
it.
"Have anyone of you had your first kiss yet?" Hikaru asked. "I
really want my first one to be with sempai," she felt inclined to
add.
Manami let out a short, harsh laugh. "I'm so shy around guys,
though I'm surprised Komatsu hasn't tried anything yet. I guess it
would help if we actually went on dates instead of going out in
groups," Manami said.
"Kisses? Sure, I've done that lots of times," Akane said, sounding
bored.
"Which guys did you kiss?" Hikaru asked excitedly.
"Uh..." Akane stared down at the table and mumbled: "No one you
know. They're...um...in Hokkaido and all that."
"I'm more concerned with finding that special someone than
kissing," Madoka said. "When you find them, kissing's just a fringe
benefit."
Hikaru felt that stabbing sensation again.
"It's true!" Hikaru insisted. "I can't remember where I heard it
from, but everyone seems to know it."
"But what if you don't decide you're going to do it until you're
already on the date?" Madoka asked.
"Maybe it's to stop you from doing that. By wearing red panties,
not only do you have something he finds sexy, it also tells him that
you were planning to sleep with him all along," Akane said. "It takes
the ball out of his court."
"That's very Machiavellian," Madoka said. She smiled. "I like it."
Akane felt her heart start to race. Madoka just complimented her!
Madoka thought she was insightful! Akane couldn't help but crack a
smile; though she was sure none of them knew why she was smiling.
"But... what if you don't have any red panties?" Manami said,
turning a little red herself.
"We need to take her out and buy her some!" Hikaru said.
"Oh no, no need!" Manami flustered. "I'm not going to be needing
them any time soon."
"Speaking of panties," Madoka said (Akane almost fell off her
cushion). "I saw this weird pair when I was Shibuya last month. Have
you ever heard of a t-back?"
"That sounds like some sort of shirt," Manami said. "Why do they
call t-shirts that anyway? They aren't shaped like t's. And tank-tops
don't look like tanks either; but they look more like t's than
t-shirts do."
Akane patted Manami on the head. "Someone needs a little sleep.
What were you saying, Ma-, ah, Ayukawa?"
"Well a t-back doesn't really has a back, it just has this long
strip of cloth. When I asked one of the clerks about it, she said it
was for eliminating panty lines," Madoka said.
"I bet it would really show off your ass, too!" Akane said. "I
heard of those before, but I thought they were called g-strings."
"Euphemism," Manami said. "G-strings have connotations of hookers
and strippers. If you release something like that for 'good girls',
you've got to change the name."
"That must be a pain to wear," Hikaru said. "It's probably keep
getting caught. You'd have to keep pulling it out."
"Something that exotic is never going to catch on," Akane said.
"People will only sacrifice comfort so far."
Much later, Manami and Hikaru were fast asleep. Madoka was nursing
a seltzer and staring out the window. Akane got up to go to the
bathroom.
She walked past the bathroom, and tip-toed up the stairs, down
the hall, and into Ayukawa's room. The window had been left open,
showing the light blue horizon far off: it would be dawn soon. Only
the brightest stars still shone in the dark blue sky.
When she'd been in her earlier, a germ of an idea had taken
root. Over the long hours of girl talk, it had sprouted into a healthy
and full plan.
When she had been here before, she had wondered why Madoka didn't
love her. She thought she now understood. Madoka was her ideal, the
person she most wanted to be. In order to win Madoka's heart, Akane
must become hers.
"I will do everything in my power to be the woman who can turn
you," Akane said, her fist clenched before her. "I will be yours,
Ayukawa Madoka."
At that moment, the sun rose.
-> -> ->
"They won't let us film on school property?" Hatta shouted.
Komatsu winced. "Not so loud. I had a lot to drink last night."
The two were walking to the local Burger King to have an early
lunch. Hatta had spent the night on the floor of Komatsu's room.
Komatsu's mother had discovered this when she stepped on what she
assumed was a pile of dirty clothes, and it groaned. Her scream had
woken Komatsu several hours before he wished.
Not that Komatsu had wanted Hatta to spend the night. They had
walked home together, as Komatsu's house was closer. After Komatsu
went inside, he assumed Hatta went home. But when he looked out his
bedroom window, he saw Hatta in earnest conversation with a tree in
his front yard. It was then that Komatsu decided he wasn't safe to
walk home.
"I guess that kills 'The Slutty Schoolgirl Murders'," Hatta said.
"That, and the fact that there was no way in hell I would have
signed off on that," Komatsu said. He really didn't get slasher films.
He thought that teenagers should be rewarded, not punished, for having
sex so early in life.
"How about a silent movie? That would cut the costs in half, since
we wouldn't have to rent any sound equipment or buy tape. We could do
something Buster Keatonish," Hatta said.
"No thanks. I have no desire for a broken neck," Komatsu said.
"That was only one time," Hatta grumbled.
"I'm not going the art house route," Komatsu said. "We need
something original, but recognizable. Something challenging, but
comforting. Something groundbreaking, but familiar. Something complex,
but simple."
"You are aware you're contradicting yourself," Hatta said.
But Komatsu barely heard him, he started to walk across the
street, to where a puppet theatre had been set up. A couple of kids
were sitting on the sidewalk, looking enthralled.
"I am neither drunk or out of mind," one of the puppets said.
"This is it!" Komatsu said.
"I am simply here to ensure that the sentence is carried out
swiftly," another puppet said.
Komatsu turned to Hatta. "This is it!" he repeated. "Our national
legend, the bedrock of our very culture! A story everyone recognizes!"
"It's just a stupid puppet show," Hatta said.
"No, you fool! Can't you see? This is what George Lucas did! He
purified Western culture into its purest form, or more to the point he
got some sucker to do it for him, then he threw in ray guns and it
got him millions of dollars!" Komatsu said.
Hatta stared at the puppet show for a few more moments. "Yeah,
but they've made a bunch of movies out of this story. How could you
possibly expect to stand out? Are you going to make it a porno?"
Komatsu thought about that for a moment. "No, it would have to
be yaoi then. I really don't like that. No, we're going to make it
very popular by following in the footsteps of giants. We're going to
make the 47 Ronin..." he paused for effect. "...In Space!"
-> -> ->
Akane sat on her bed and stared at the wall. She'd gotten home
almost an hour ago. After assuring her father she'd had a good time at
Madoka's, she came up here to think.
It was a question of restraint, she decided. Remembering that old
novel Moby Dick (or rather, the general impression of the book she got
from modern culture), she decided that she should set some limits on
what she would do to win over Madoka.
She'd gone wrong before by attempting to tear down Kyosuke. She
had believed that by making Madoka hate him, she would look better.
Although she didn't like Kyosuke, she found that she loved him. She
cared what happened to him--and didn't want to cause him pain, either
by action or inaction.
Since she could not tear down her competitors, the only option
was to make herself better in Madoka's eyes. This had been the idea
she got last night, and through several hours of contemplation she'd
realized it was the right one.
Then she began to ponder one of the great eternal questions: how
does one impress Ayukawa Madoka?
-> -> ->
"Thanks for inviting us to lunch," Kyosuke said as he unwrapped
his whopper.
"Oh it was no problem at all," Komatsu said. "After all, it's the
least we could do for the rising stars of the Japanese film industry."
Kyosuke set his hamburger down and let out a long sigh. "You
can't just let this go, can you?"
Kurumi said, in a raspy voice: "What's he talking about?"
"We've come up with an idea for a better movie," Hatta said.
"It'll make us more famous than you could possibly imagine."
"We're going to do the 47 Ronin... IN SPACE!" Komatsu said.
Kyosuke rolled his eyes. "Where are going to get 47 actors from?"
"Well, they'll be wearing helmets, so we can double up," Komatsu
said.
"Having five people play 47 Samurai would require a lot more than
DOUBLING UP!" Kyosuke said.
"One person would have play approximately 9.4 ronin, yes, I get
that," Komatsu said. "But it'll add to the charm of the movie."
"But more than five of them couldn't be onscreen at any one time,
don't you think the audience would notice that?" Manami asked.
"Well, we could use dummies," Hatta said.
"We already have two of them," Kurumi said, and stuck out her
tongue.
"Wait a second, you're going to have women playing ronin?"
Kyosuke said.
"Well, we're never going to show them without their helmets on,
but yes," Komatsu said.
"So you're just looking for a warm body, huh?" Kurumi asked.
"Well..." Hatta said "I suppose we could write a new role."
"A princess!" Komatsu said. "Every good epic needs a princess.
We'll call her the princess... of silence!"
"Because she doesn't have any lines," Kurumi said. It was not a
question.
"No, she'll have lines," Komatsu said.
"Then why is she the princess of silence?" Kyosuke asked.
"Because we like the sound of it," Komatsu said.
"Why don't you just call her the princess of pregnancy and bare
feet?" Kyosuke said.
"There's no way I'm going to be in your stupid movie," Kurumi
said. "I have better things to do: like going to the dentist and
stepping on rusty nails."
"Count me out too," Kyosuke said. "I have a reputation to think
of."
"A reputation as a weak-willed, indecisive, waffling jerk?"
Komatsu asked.
"Better than being a C-movie star," Kyosuke said with a snarl.
"I'll help you," Manami said.
"Oh! Thank you, thank you!" Hatta said. "You'll make a wonderful
Princess of Silence!"
Komatsu regarded her with a stern look. "I'm afraid I must ask,
Manami: are you helping us out of pity?"
Manami blushed. "I... I suppose I am."
Komatsu shrugged. "Works for me. Welcome aboard."
-> -> ->
Akane laid the marker down and stood back to admire her work.
It was nothing more than a neatly grouped collection of words, but she
felt an odd sense of satisfaction as she gazed at it. She had managed
to completely dissect Madoka's character.
Beautiful, graceful, musical, glamorous, cultured,
"tough guy"/"bad girl" image... and at the very bottom was written
"strange sadness?".
Akane started to play with a yo-yo as she stared at the chart.
It helped her think. These qualities, she noted, are what made Madoka
who she was. These were also the things that Akane loved about her.
In order to become the ideal that Madoka would fall for, she would
need to replicate each of these qualities in herself. Akane sighed:
it was overwhelming.
Beauty would be easy: she knew she wasn't bad to look at. Guys
used to hit on her all the time until they realized what she was.
Grace would be a hard one. She was always so hard-headed and
ham-handed. Kyosuke once said that she moved around like an ape. She'd
smashed his face into the pavement; or so she liked to remember. She
wasn't much of a bruiser, she'd never done more than slap someone or
fight during a field hockey game. But all that would have to stop, she
realized.
Akane gulped: something was wrong. Realizing that she had to
monitor her actions from now on--it felt like she'd lost a part of
herself. Could she truly change her actions? That's just so much
pressure...
She sat on her bed, a heavy frown forming on her face. After a
moment she looked to the ceiling, where a picture of Madoka was
plastered.
She had to remember what she was doing this for. She had to
remember WHO she was doing this for. What's a little personality change
if she could wake up next to Ayukawa Madoka every morning for the rest
of her life?
Akane threw her shoulders back and let out a deep breath. She
stood up and went back to the chart.
Musical ability. She'd tried to play the trumpet as a kid, but
couldn't get it to sound right. She'd told the band teacher that she
couldn't get the trumpet to make the right noise. He'd looked at her
like she was a retard. She hadn't picked up an instrument since.
She looked at her hands: Madoka played the piano as well as the
saxophone. In fact, she was better at the piano. Akane liked using
computers: she could type over 80 WPM. Surely she could learn to play
something like a piano?
Except they didn't have a piano... Madoka had this great old
upright piano in her living room that she practiced on. Akane supposed
she could borrow the one at the school... but she was going to soon
lose access to that one.
Akane felt a cramp deep in the pit of her stomach. Yes, that was
the part that wasn't on the chart, because she couldn't bring herself
to put it on there.
The key to winning Madoka's heart wasn't any of these things:
though certainly, they would help. What she needed most of all was
familiarity. And she couldn't gain that sort of familiarity during the
few times they met on the weekends, and the rare times they met after
school.
The first step on this long road was by far the hardest. It was
also one she could never take back once she committed herself.
Akane needed to get herself expelled.
-> -> ->
"Is something wrong, Akane? You didn't say a single thing during
lunch," Michi asked.
Akane looked up from her algebra book. "Didn't have much to say,"
Akane said.
"You've been pretty quiet all day," Chie said, adjusting her
glasses. "Something on your mind?"
"Oh, the usual things," Akane said with a shrug.
Of course that was a lie. She'd spent all morning thinking of ways
to get expelled. Graffiti wasn't enough to get her expelled. Property
damage was, but then she'd have to pay for it and might even get in
trouble with the cops. All the other methods she came up with involved
hurting people, and that wasn't something she wanted to do.
Anno-sensei came in from the hallway, readjusting her blouse.
Akane cocked an eyebrow: she must've met the gym teacher in the
equipment shed again. Maybe she could try to blackmail her... No, it
was pretty much an open secret. Everyone who would have a problem with
it already knew.
Anno-sensei pulled out the waka book they'd been reading for the
past two weeks. "I hope everyone's done their homework for today's
Japanese class."
A few students groaned. Akane indifferently pulled her Japanese
folder out of her desk and took out a single sheet of paper. The poem
had been deceptively easy to write. She had a great muse, after all.
"Akane, would you like to read yours first?" Anno-sensei asked.
"Not especially," Akane said, candidly. Insubordination would
help, she suspected.
Anno-sensei just stared at her, Akane eventually had to break
eye-contact. She shuffled to the front of the room. She looked down
at the poem and suddenly felt better. She set it on the podium and
began to read:
"The Beauty of Lady M
In the cool moonlight,
Her long hair shimmers,
The color of midnight,
Yet each strand glimmers
Smooth cheeks blush in the brisk night air,
Bright eyes and sensuous soft lips,
Her complexion so very fair,
Her body's curve crests at her hips.
She wears a perfectly white kimono,
Which shows the line of her perfect round breasts,
Her body's frame is built like a willow,
And its supple fruit her perfect round breasts,
Fabric hides the silky smoothness of her long legs,
Bare feet as lovely as the Platonic ideal
Under her skirt: lower cheeks, formed like perfect eggs,
So lucky am I, that this Lady M is real."
Her heart had begun to race as she read it, it was all so TRUE!
She had expected some applause, or even just Anno-sensei telling her
to take her seat: but there was nothing but unearthly silence.
Akane looked up, and everyone in the room was staring at her in
wide-eyed shock. Anno-sensei's mouth was hanging open.
"You must understand why we find this poem of yours disturbing,
Akane," the headmistress said.
"No, I don't," Akane said. "Since when was an examination of
feminine beauty a crime?"
"It isn't what you said in this poem that bothers us, it's why
we think you said it," the headmistress said.
Akane sunk into the chair, a defiant scowl crossing her face.
"I wrote it as a self-portrait. It's the love I feel for myself, and
shows how I find myself attractive. Now if you find self-love to be
a bad thing, you should get rid of those Self-Esteem pamphlets in the
student center-"
"I wouldn't describe your hair as 'the color of midnight', Akane,"
the headmistress said.
Damn, Akane thought. "It's more broad then self-love, it's
praising the female physique in general."
"But you already said it was a self-portrait, Akane. And even if
this ode to physique is all this is, that's just as bad," the
headmistress said.
There was an anger inside Akane that been there constant since her
moment of self-discovery at the age of 8. This anger, which was usually
nothing more than a soft buzz in her skull, suddenly spiked. Akane's
face curled into a snarl as she began to shout at the headmistress.
"What the hell is your problem, anyway? So what if I like women
and not men? How is that any skin off your nose? For the love of Christ,
why can't you just live and let live?" Akane bellowed.
"Because, Akane-san, there is right and wrong in this world, and-"
the headmistress began.
"Yes, I quite agree that there are some things which are inherently
wrong. But I don't think that love between two consenting adults,
regardless of gender, qualifies as wrong or evil! What kind of psycho
are you that you can think that way?!" Akane said.
"Watch your tone, Kasuga-san," the headmistress said, with what
Akane later realized was a dangerous tone.
Akane rose and slammed her fist onto the desk. "You are nothing
more than a small-minded bigot!"
Yokoi-sensei was explaining how to rationalize a denominator when
she heard someone run down the hallway. As they got closer, she
remembered that Keiko had gone to the bathroom about five minutes ago.
The feet skidded to a halt before the classroom, and Keiko yanked
the door open. She rushed in, panting. She tried to speak, but had to
catch her breath first.
Yokoi-sensei looked at her sternly. "Keiko, what's the meaning of
this?"
"A-a-Akane!" Keiko finally managed to say.
Yuki stood up from her seat. "What happened to Akane?!"
"Akane... She's been expelled!" Keiko said.
Suddenly Yokoi's scowl vanished, and she fell into her chair,
speechless. There were gasps from all corners of the room; many were
completely in shock. Several even started crying.
Far off, the school clock struck the hour.
After the principal's secretary had tried three times to get
Akane's mother on the phone, the principal had one of his
student-toadies escort Akane off-campus. She then walked to the park
across the street and sat on a bench.
She stared at Hoshi All-Girl's School. She didn't hate Hoshi's;
she'd enjoyed going there. She liked the students, the teachers, and
she thought they liked her. That's why this hurt so damn much.
The really funny thing is that she hadn't been trying to get
expelled. She was trying to figure out a master plan, and this just
fell in her lap. She couldn't help but smile at that.
"Excuse me, miss, shouldn't you be in school?" a voice said from
behind her.
Akane looked over her shoulder and saw a police-man standing
behind the bench. She recognized him as Officer Saito, who covered this
neighborhood's truant beat.
"I don't have a school to go to, I've been expelled," Akane said.
"Surely you can do better than that," Saito said.
Akane took the note to her parents the principal gave her and
handed it to Saito.
Saito unfolded the paper and glanced over it. He stiffened as
he did so. He folded it over and handed it back to Akane.
"Shouldn't you be going home?" Saito asked.
"I just want to sit here for a while..." Akane said. Then she
shrugged. "Besides, my parents aren't going to be back until 6 anyway."
Akane thought Saito looked confused. He chewed on his lower lip
for a few moments. Finally he said: "Stay out of trouble," and moved
on.
She wondered how long it would take to get into Kouryou; probably
not tomorrow. Maybe if she went over and talked to the principal.
Her parents would have to admire that kind of take-charge attitude...
But she'd told Saito the truth: she really just wanted to sit
here for a while, and ponder the life-chaning events that had taken
place.
Yuki was halfway through her salami sandwich when Kaori came over
to talk to her.
"Guess you blew it, huh?" Kaori said.
Yuki looked up from his fashion magazine. "What are you talking
about?"
"Now that Akane's out of our school, any chances you had with
her now approach zero," Kaori said.
Yuki felt her nostrils burn, as they were wont to do when she
felt grief. She shrugged it off; literally, so Kaori could see it.
"I assume she's having a great time with that boyfriend of hers.
I, of all people, should accept that you can't change or challenge
how people feel," Yuki said.
"Her boyfriend?" Kaori said, wrinkling her nose. "Oh! That
Kyosuke guy?"
"Yeah, you met him?" Yuki said.
"No, but I heard from Chie about that. He's actually her cousin.
She was only pretending to date him to get her and Michi to stop their
griping about her not having a boyfriend," Kaori said. "Just between
you, me, and the salami sandwich: I hear she likes girls."
Yuki started to feel her blood boil, but it was overshadowed by
a bright deluge of hope. Akane liked girls! There was still hope.
Then Yuki felt depressed again. How often was she going to see
Akane, now that they didn't go to school together anymore?
But she couldn't let an opportunity like this go. She couldn't
allow this love to remain unrequited. She had to convince Akane to
give her a shot: by any means necessary.
-> -> ->
This will be where the rockets take off, Komatsu thought to
himself. He took in the long fields of billowing green grass and
smirked. He held up his Polaroid and snapped a picture, not bothering
to look into the viewfinder.
"I thought this was going to take place in space?" Hatta said.
"Nah, you can't have it set completely in space. Either you're
stuck making expensive effects shots, or cramped interior shots on
expensive sets," Komatsu said. "What we do is we film on a day where
there's no clouds, and we use Chromoa Key to turn the sky purple and
drop in a couple of moons."
"But those shots always look so fake! Remember the Master in that
episode where Tom Baker died?" Hatta said.
"Well, technology has come a long way in the past five years,"
Komatsu said.
"And why are we here, anyway? These don't look much different than
the fields by our school," Hatta said.
"Because there are more girls here," Komatsu said with a perverted
giggle.
Hatta smiled. "I was beginning to think your newfound love of
movies had neutered you."
"Have to keep an eye out for Akane, though," Komatsu said. When
Akane was around, he wasn't able to hit on girls. He felt threatened
in a way he couldn't quite explain. Hatta seemed to feel the same way.
Komatsu checked his watch. "What's taking them so long, anyway?
We got let out half-an-hour ago."
As if in answer, at that very moment, the school's bell rung for
the final time that day.
"This place is going to suck without you," Michi said.
"That's so true!" Chie said. "Everyone was saying that.
Chikako-sensei was crying her eyes out when she heard!"
Akane continued to stare at the school building from her bench
across the street.
"Yeah, well, sometimes sacrifices have to be made," Akane said in
a haunted tone.
Chie squinted. "What are you talking about?"
Akane finally turned to her friends. "Never mind. Everything's
going to be all right. We'll still be able to see each other on the
weekends," she said.
"But who's going to show the teachers their place?" Michi asked.
"Who's going to force us to have extraordinary lives?" Chie asked.
"Without you, the school's...normal." She spat out the last word like
a curse.
Akane jumped to her feet, and held up in her fist. It was a pose
meant to inspire. "I'm moving on to greener pastures, my friends. I
will finally win the love of Ayukawa Madoka!"
Michi rolled her eyes. "Not THIS again!"
Madoka? That was a girl's name, Yuki thought. So Kaori had been
right: Akane had only been pretending to be straight!
Yuki snuck another peek around the tree's trunk. The three girls
were still deep in conversation, and didn't notice her. Yuki moved back
behind the tree and leaned against its trunk.
This complicated things, of course. She had competition, and her
competitor was an unknown quantity. What kind of girl would it take
to get Akane all weak in the knees?
Akane was so strong, smart, and popular. What would it take to
make her all gooey inside, and leave her lost for words? Who did she
think about when she was in bed at night and reached down to...
No, enough of that, Yuki upbraided herself. Just the half-formed
thought had gotten her flushed. She let out a long, hot sigh.
"Stupid teacher," a male voice growled. Yuki looked over and saw
two guys crossing the street. One of them had something hanging around
his neck that looked like half of a pair of binoculars. She had the
strangest feeling she'd seen them before.
"You gave up too easy! You don't think she was really going to
call the cops, do you?" the one with glasses asked.
The first one didn't reply to his friend, as he had noticed Yuki.
He rushed over to her.
"Hello cutie, I haven't seen you around before," he said.
Yuki narrowed her eyes at him. She had trouble understanding the
attraction women had to men in general, but she couldn't conceive of
how someone could possibly find a slug like this attractive.
She was about to use some colorful language to get rid of him,
when she heard Akane chortle. She felt a hot spike of anger stab
into her chest. She'd felt this once before, when she'd seen Akane
hugging that Kyohiro guy: bitter, bitter jealousy.
Suddenly she felt a release, and the wonderful feeling of
weightlessness that comes with intuitive insight: she knew how she
could make Akane notice her. Jealousy.
"I think I would've remembered seeing someone like you," Yuki
said, in saccharine tones. "You from around here?"
"Ah, no. We don't go here...well, obviously, we got to Koryou,
and, uh..." the guy just stared at the ground for a few moments.
Yuki walked closer to him, getting inside his comfort zone. He
gulped as he stared at her. This was going to be so easy.
School had been over for two hours, and the wind had gained a
chill. Akane found it refreshing.
"So... I guess this is it," Chie said. Akane imagined she saw
tears in her eyes.
Akane checked her watch and frowned. "Yeah, time to go face the
music."
"Perhaps we'll go to the same college," Michi said.
Akane smiled, and rubbed Michi's cheek. "Pollyannaish to the very
end, ne?"
Akane turned as she heard a familiar voice from a nearby grove of
trees. Yuki emerged from the grove, followed by Komatsu and Hatta.
"Don't worry, silly boy, of course I'll call you," Yuki said. She
caught Akane's eye, and pulled a business card out of her breast pocket
and handed it to Komatsu. "But you can call me first if you want."
"Oh! Oh, thank you!" Komatsu said.
Akane raised both eyebrows in surprise. Some poor girl had finally
taken an interest in Komatsu. She felt her heart warm, and she found
herself smiling glibly. Although she wouldn't have chosen to inflict
Komatsu on anyone, much less Yuki, Akane was glad she'd finally found
someone.
End Part 1
* - for Yuki's introduction see Volume 13, story 9 of the manga.
(v.8, story 4 in the wideband.)
Script available here:
http://www.animeraiders.com/creed/Kortrans/Korw0804.txt
!
Kimagure Orange Road
Spring Wonder
Chapter 1
Written By: Chris Schumacher
Based on the characters and situation created by Matsumoto Izumi.
They stood in winter-chilled grass before the worn stone. The
marble had faded over the years. Gone was the melodious mixture of
vibrant blues and cool greys. The stone had sat here for many lonely
years, a sentinel of the dead.
Etched on its surface were lines, swirls, loops, dashes and
points which represented thoughts: symbols. The largest symbols meant:
spring, sun, beauty, sunrise. The beautiful rise of the spring sun.
These symbols were a name: Akemi Kasuga.
Today was the first day of spring, sixteen years after Akemi's
last breath. Those that Akemi left behind stood before the marker,
dressed all in white. There were three children that Akemi wouldn't
have recognized, and a husband who was almost two decades older.
Kyosuke only had one memory of his mother, an inconsequential one:
little more than a tattered strip of film in his mind, an eternally
replaying image of a woman walking across a room. He couldn't even
remember her face.
Neither Manami or Kurumi had ever known their mother: their
entrance into the world had forced her exit. Manami always lived with
the guilt of what her life cost her family.
As she stared at her sister, she wondered if she felt the same
kind of guilt. Though Manami wondered if Kurumi had yet the emotional
depth to hold such a view.
Takeshi remembered the day it happened. He'd been in the room.
He remembered gushing over Kurumi and her "cute little bald head".
Then the horrible silence that followed, as his wife said nothing. He
turned, his head feeling heavier than it possibly could be. The doctor
was concerned, nurses ran into the room. There was a whining noise from
a machine in the corner. This can't be happening: it just can't.
This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life... When
the doctor pronounced the time, he felt like a shard of cold,
crystal-clear glass thrust into his heart. How can you move between so
many extremes so rapidly? How could this be real? How could his
daughters never know their mother?
Kyosuke looked at his crying father. He felt a little embarrassed,
but that was dwarfed by the horror he felt. His father was the bedrock
of their family. If he could be overcome with emotion like this...
Then his dad was just a normal person like him... or his mother. Oh
god, his father was going to die one day. How could he live in a world
without him? How could the world go on without his father in it?
Kurumi had trouble summoning sorrow for someone she never knew,
and only felt a nagging sense of guilt. She spent the whole time
thinking about spoons.
-> -> ->
Laughter filled the smoky air around their table. Kurumi stood on
the table and danced jerkily to the Duran Duran song the DJ was playing.
"What's this one called?" Kyosuke asked.
"'Avenue Skill', I think," Komatsu said.
Kyosuke ran those two words through his brain. He remembered very
little English, and the name didn't make much sense to him, but hey,
it sounded good. That's what mattered, right?
"Get down here, Kurumi, before you break something," Ayukawa said.
Kurumi stuck her tongue out and did a few kicks in the direction
of the dance floor. Hatta laid back in his seat, trying to get a look
up her skirt. Kyosuke reached across the table and punched him in the
arm.
"You no good pervert!" Kyosuke shouted.
"Hey! You know you'd look if Hikaru was up there!" Hatta said.
Kyosuke sighed through his nostrils. It was hard to admit, but
he probably would.
It was too dark for Komatsu to get a good peek. He leaned back in
his chair and closed his eyes. He couldn't believe nobody wanted to be
part of his next project. TAP GUN 2: This Time It's Personal--how could
that possibly fail?
Hikaru refused to work with him because of TAP GUN's ending.
Kasuga told him to stick it. Ayukawa said life was too short.
Kurumi couldn't sit still during filming, and had consequently only shown
up in 30 seconds of the finished film. Even that was a bitch to shoot,
with Kurumi's wild gesticulations and frequent ad-libbing.
If the movie had been better received, they might be more inclined
to help. However the reviews in the Indie Film magazines were some of
the worst he ever read. There was one that seemed okay at first;
but then he realized that "derivative", in a non-mathematical context,
was a bad thing.
Kurumi's foot came down on the bowl of beer nuts. One nut shot up
at an angle and hit him in the eye.
"I'm blind! My film career is over! Now the world will have to do
without the next Stephen Spielberg!" Komatsu whined.
"Just as well," Akane said, sipping her beer. "One of them was too
many."
"What?" Hikaru sputtered. "You don't like Spielberg? But that E.T.
was sooo cute!"
"You know, I was just thinking about that movie the other day.
I'm starting to think it was a parable about nudism," Madoka said.
"Oh?" Kasuga asked, as he succeeded in pulling his sister down
from the table. "How's that?"
"If those guys didn't walk around naked, they'd have pockets.
And if they had pockets, they could carry around communicators.
Then it wouldn't have taken E.T. a month to build that damn thing,"
Madoka said.
"Wow, you really spent a lot of time thinking about that movie,
didn't you?" Manami asked.
Madoka started to blush. She wasn't about to admit she'd seen the
movie 17 times. Though she stopped crying when E.T. died around the
fifth time.
Akane stared at Madoka's beautifully blushing cheeks. She felt
a giddy warmness fill her chest. Then she felt her stomach cramping.
She was so close to Madoka right now. She could physically reach
out and touch her... But Madoka had no idea how she felt, so there
might as well have been an ocean between them.
But looking at Madoka now made her feel warm inside. Though she
was sure that was partially due to the half-gallon of beer in her gut.
Sometimes she woke up in the morning, and before she opened her
eyes, she imagined a nude Madoka next to her. She'd sit there,
watching Madoka sleep. Seeing Madoka's face--far too often drooping
with sorrow, or contorting with rage--in an expression of peaceful
bliss.
She wished she could stick a teddy bear in the bed next to her
and use her powers of illusion to make it look like Madoka, but she
was the only person who those powers didn't work on.
Ironically, that was the only good use she could find for the damn
thing.
-> -> ->
They left Disco Moebius at 11:27, exactly five minutes after
Kurumi vomited for the first time; they did not leave by choice.
The slightly-chilly night air was a welcome change from the
tobacco smoke-filled interior of Disco Moebius. Madoka could feel her
head clearing already, though she still saw small haloes around lights.
There wasn't a cloud in the sky, the stars shone brightly far above
them.
Kurumi sat on the curb, her head between her knees. Her stomach
gave off threatening noises. Madoka sat next to her, her arm draped
over Kurumi's shoulders.
"What're we going to do?" Manami said. "Dad can't see this!"
Kasuga sneered at his inebriated sister. "Have you even heard of
'self-control', Kurumi?! We're going to get grounded for this!"
"Keep your voice down!" Ayukawa said.
"Ooohh... If I'm sitting still, why is the world still moving?"
Kurumi said.
"Keep your eyes open, Kurumi. Closing them only makes it worse,"
Madoka said.
Kurumi opened her eyes and looked at the street. "That's a little
better... I still fell like I'm on a roller coaster, though."
"How long is this going to take to wear off?" Akane asked.
"Hmmm," Hikaru said. "That was a whole glass of brandy, so I'd
say it'd be at least five hours."
"That's four hours after our curfew," Manami said.
"She can dry out at my place," Madoka said.
Suddenly Kasuga stopped pacing. Manami looked relieved. Akane
looked a little happy. Madoka had lived alone ever since her sister had
moved out. It was a large house, with many bedrooms and bathrooms: the
perfect place for a drunk to lay low.
"Well, okay then," Kasuga said.
Madoka jumped to her feet, and pulled Kurumi up. "The trouble is
getting there. Hikaru and I've been ticketed for underage drinking
before. We're going to have to be careful."
Hikaru put on her serious face. "Right. I'll run on ahead and
run interference. Be careful though, no puking in the street."
Hikaru started to run in the general direction of Madoka's house.
"Aside from Hikaru, we've all had a bit to drink. So let's split
up, take parallel streets. Kurumi and I'll stick together," Madoka
said.
Akane, Manami and Kasuga scampered off. Madoka slung her arm
around Kurumi and helped her down the street.
Kyosuke was glad that Ayukawa chose to escort Kurumi. Aside
from not wanting to be vomited on, he didn't think he could stand up
to a cop the way Ayukawa could.
He was about 3 kilometers from Ayukawa's house, so he'd get there
in about half an hour. He reached the end of the current block and
looked down the alley. He heard footsteps from the street on the other
end. After a moment, Darth Vader walked into the alley. He turned to
face Kyosuke and held his right hand out in a choking grip.
Kyosuke started at the sight. He gritted his teeth and chided
himself. "Very funny, Akane," Kyosuke said.
A girlish chuckle came from within Vader's mask. The illusion
faded away gradually, like fog in the wind.
"Just trying to keep you on your toes, cousin," Akane said.
Later, Kyosuke heard familiar shuffling footsteps behind him. He
turned around to see his sister walk towards him, moonlight gleamed
off the lenses of her glasses.
"Mind if I walk with you oniichan?" she whispered when she got
near. "I'd rather not walk alone."
"Sure," Kyosuke said, and the two began to walk in lockstep.
Manami suddenly thrust her arm onto her brother's chest, and the
two skidded to a halt. She pointed at the pavement, and her brother's
gaze followed. There was an arrow on the pavement, drawn in eyeliner.
Next to it was drawn a curly hiragana "hi".
"Police box in the next block," Manami said.
"Oh, yeah," Kyosuke said.
They walked off the street, following the arrow, and found
themselves in a park. There was another road that ran parallel, just
over the hill. Kyosuke didn't remember there being any police boxes on
it, at least not until they reached Ayukawa's house.
"It's a bit... dark," Manami said.
"It's all right, I'll be with you. And I don't think there's a
thug on this planet that can take two ESPers at once," Kyosuke
said.
Manami and her brother trudged through the newly mown grass.
The only light Manami could see was cast from the street lamps far
behind them, and a halo that crested the dark hill in front of them.
She could barely see her hand in front of her face. She reached out
and grabbed her older brother's hand. He returned the grip firmly.
"Steady now, no reason to be frightened," her brother said.
The small spasm of fear ended, and Manami calmed down. As
long as onnichan was here, she thought, things would work out. He
always took care of her, for as long as she could remember.
She took in the shimmering stars high above them. It had been a
very warm day, so it seemed strange that Orion, or any of the summer
constellations, weren't in the sky.
But back to onnichan... She found it strange that all of the
things lacking in Komatsu were present in her brother. Was she using
her brother as a template for her ideal partner? Was that a "well"
thing to do? Even though it appeared, on the surface, incestuous, it
didn't seem wrong.
Why couldn't more guys be like her brother? Maybe they were, but
they just acted differently towards their sisters than towards their
girlfriends. She had to remember that there was things Komatsu wanted
from her that her brother didn't.
-> -> ->
"...and with it being so late, dad, I think you can understand,"
Manami said.
Even though Kyosuke was sitting in an uncomfortable dining room
chair, he found himself dozing off. He sat up, and the sight of his
bespectacled sister on the phone snapped into sharp focus. So sharp,
in fact, that he realized that he must be sober again.
"Oh no, Kyosuke's already on his way home," Manami said, sparing
her brother a glance.
"Awww!" Kyosuke sighed.
"And could you please pass the message on to Akane's parents as
well? Thanks, love you, bye," Manami hung up the phone.
"You're a very good liar," Kyosuke noted. "You should be a
lawyer."
Manami stuck her tongue out at him. Kyosuke smiled inwardly. It
was nice to see her act immature again once in a while. It reminded him
that, somewhere beneath that motherish persona, the Manami he grew up
with still existed.
Several chunks of partially digested yakitori and french fries
floated in the toilet. Kurumi pulled her head back, and closed her
bloodshot eyes. She heard a clinking of glass and metal from behind
her, and the soft padding footsteps of Madoka's slippered feet.
"Here, drink this," Madoka said.
"Whazzit?" Kurumi slurred.
"It's better you drink it first," Ayukawa said.
Somewhere in Kurumi's clouded mind something told her that made
sense. She took the glass and quaffed the liquid inside. She tasted it
for just a second, and it was unlike anything she'd tasted before.
Or more to the point, like a bunch of things that she'd tasted before,
but never together. She felt a heave starting.
"Keep it down!" Madoka said urgently. "You'll thank yourself
tomorrow."
Kurumi fought the urge to hurl, and with a few deep swallows
managed to keep the concoction down.
"What was that?" Kurumi asked again.
"Water, pickle juice, soy sauce, sesame oil..." she trailed off.
Kurumi felt herself fighting the heaves again.
"Here," Madoka said, handing Akane the nightgown. "You'll have to
change in here, Kurumi's still throwing up in the bathroom."
Akane's mind raced; was Madoka going to change in front of her?
That would be so... Oh, she sighed. Madoka walked into the hallway
and closed the door behind her.
That's a shame--Akane wasn't shy at all... Damn it.
Akane started to pull off her tank-top, but stopped and looked
around the room. She'd never been in Madoka's room before, she realized.
Everything was so vibrant and light. There were no lame pastels, just
bright, solid, primary colors.
She walked over to her desk and looked at the bookshelf. Quite a
selection. The Odyssey, The Great Gatsby (in English!), Harusame
Monogatari (so, she had a macabre bent)...
Akane felt a knotting in her stomach. That horrible,
all-too-familar feeling of hopelessness.
Why didn't Madoka love her?
Did she even realize how Akane felt about her? About how she
lulled herself to sleep at night by imagining the pillow talk between
them?
She saw a picture of Kyosuke on Madoka's dresser. God, she
couldn't believe that putz had a better chance of ending up with Madoka
than she did. And he had Hikaru, too, and all she had was... Well,
Yuki... But that was another case of unrequited love all together.*
She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, filling her lungs
with Madoka's scent. Madoka was so beautiful, so smart, so graceful,
so perfect... Why was Akane so damned, to have this goddess enter her
life, but as nothing more than a friend?
She opened her eyes, and wondered how long she'd been in Madoka's
room. She jumped up and pulled off her tank top, dropped her shorts,
and pulled on the nightgown.
She felt an electric pulse shoot up her spine as she did so. She
suddenly felt warm in a very personal place. This was Madoka's
nightgown. This piece of cotton had spent countless nights rubbing
against her skin. She sniffed the sleeve, but smelled only the faintest
hint of laundry detergent: Madoka's scent was gone.
For a moment Akane considered putting on some of Madoka's panties:
but she supposed that was crossing the line. That was the sort of
thing that Komatsu would do.
"Has the room stopped spinning?" Madoka asked.
Kurumi opened her eyes for a moment. "Yeah," she said weakly.
Madoka smiled. Many families had hangover cures, but hers was the
only one she knew of that had a cure for the worst parts of drunkenness.
Madoka tucked Kurumi in. When she looked up, she saw that Kurumi
was already fast asleep. She really envied someone who could fall
asleep so quickly. Madoka was not the type of person who fell asleep
in class or while watching TV. She needed to completely relax before
she could sleep, and that usually took about forty-five minutes from
the moment her head hit the pillow.
While looking at Kurumi's peaceful, sleeping face, she felt an odd,
warm tinge in her. She wondered if this is what it was like to be a big
sister. The sweetly warm feel was tinged with bitterness, as she now
regretted never having the opportunity.
In the living room the long-shuttered windows had been thrown
open, and pure, cool spring air permeated the room. An old jazz melody
lilted through the air, composed of strong and certain keystrokes from
Katsuhiro Ayukawa's grand piano.
Madoka's friends were gathered around the table in the center of
the room. Each of them was enthralled by the deceptively simple tune
that Madoka's slender fingers played for them.
When she finished, they applauded.
"Woohoo!" Hikaru shouted. "Wonderful as ever, Madoka!"
"You're truly talented," Manami said, breathlessly.
"That's some of the most moving music I've heard in my entire
life," Akane said.
Madoka stood and took a bow. The applauding recommenced. Madoka
walked over to the table, and sat down next to Hikaru.
They talked long into the night. The night air coming through the
open window became cooler and crisper as the night wore on.
The topic of conversation had turned to boys: as it always seemed
to these days.
"Komatsu?" Hikaru said. "Pffft. Complete perv. Don't let him get
you alone."
Manami started to turn a little red from embarrassment. Hikaru
noticed she often did when the conversation veered towards sexual
matters.
"He's better than Hatta, though," Madoka said. "Hatta's got all
the hormones and none of the brains. He gives lie to the myth of
glasses denoting intelligence."
"It's too bad they can't all be like sempai," Hikaru sighed.
"Kyosuke?" Akane said with a snort. "He's Komatsu with bedroom
eyes."
"He is not! He's kind and honorable! Why he's never once tried
to take advantage of me!" Hikaru said. She tried to keep the regret
out of her voice.
"I have to say, I couldn't hope for a better big brother," Manami
sputtered, quick to change the conversation. "Though he's a little
full of himself."
"You've been rather quiet, Madoka," Akane said. "What do you think
of Kyosuke?"
Hikaru noticed a strange tone in her voice; but she couldn't make
sense of it. Madoka was silent for a long moment.
Finally she said: "Well, if Hikaru likes him, that's good enough
for me."
Hikaru felt a suddenly tightness in her chest. Something was
wrong; she felt like this sometimes when they talked about Kyosuke
There was something wrong, but she couldn't quite put her finger on
it.
"Have anyone of you had your first kiss yet?" Hikaru asked. "I
really want my first one to be with sempai," she felt inclined to
add.
Manami let out a short, harsh laugh. "I'm so shy around guys,
though I'm surprised Komatsu hasn't tried anything yet. I guess it
would help if we actually went on dates instead of going out in
groups," Manami said.
"Kisses? Sure, I've done that lots of times," Akane said, sounding
bored.
"Which guys did you kiss?" Hikaru asked excitedly.
"Uh..." Akane stared down at the table and mumbled: "No one you
know. They're...um...in Hokkaido and all that."
"I'm more concerned with finding that special someone than
kissing," Madoka said. "When you find them, kissing's just a fringe
benefit."
Hikaru felt that stabbing sensation again.
"It's true!" Hikaru insisted. "I can't remember where I heard it
from, but everyone seems to know it."
"But what if you don't decide you're going to do it until you're
already on the date?" Madoka asked.
"Maybe it's to stop you from doing that. By wearing red panties,
not only do you have something he finds sexy, it also tells him that
you were planning to sleep with him all along," Akane said. "It takes
the ball out of his court."
"That's very Machiavellian," Madoka said. She smiled. "I like it."
Akane felt her heart start to race. Madoka just complimented her!
Madoka thought she was insightful! Akane couldn't help but crack a
smile; though she was sure none of them knew why she was smiling.
"But... what if you don't have any red panties?" Manami said,
turning a little red herself.
"We need to take her out and buy her some!" Hikaru said.
"Oh no, no need!" Manami flustered. "I'm not going to be needing
them any time soon."
"Speaking of panties," Madoka said (Akane almost fell off her
cushion). "I saw this weird pair when I was Shibuya last month. Have
you ever heard of a t-back?"
"That sounds like some sort of shirt," Manami said. "Why do they
call t-shirts that anyway? They aren't shaped like t's. And tank-tops
don't look like tanks either; but they look more like t's than
t-shirts do."
Akane patted Manami on the head. "Someone needs a little sleep.
What were you saying, Ma-, ah, Ayukawa?"
"Well a t-back doesn't really has a back, it just has this long
strip of cloth. When I asked one of the clerks about it, she said it
was for eliminating panty lines," Madoka said.
"I bet it would really show off your ass, too!" Akane said. "I
heard of those before, but I thought they were called g-strings."
"Euphemism," Manami said. "G-strings have connotations of hookers
and strippers. If you release something like that for 'good girls',
you've got to change the name."
"That must be a pain to wear," Hikaru said. "It's probably keep
getting caught. You'd have to keep pulling it out."
"Something that exotic is never going to catch on," Akane said.
"People will only sacrifice comfort so far."
Much later, Manami and Hikaru were fast asleep. Madoka was nursing
a seltzer and staring out the window. Akane got up to go to the
bathroom.
She walked past the bathroom, and tip-toed up the stairs, down
the hall, and into Ayukawa's room. The window had been left open,
showing the light blue horizon far off: it would be dawn soon. Only
the brightest stars still shone in the dark blue sky.
When she'd been in her earlier, a germ of an idea had taken
root. Over the long hours of girl talk, it had sprouted into a healthy
and full plan.
When she had been here before, she had wondered why Madoka didn't
love her. She thought she now understood. Madoka was her ideal, the
person she most wanted to be. In order to win Madoka's heart, Akane
must become hers.
"I will do everything in my power to be the woman who can turn
you," Akane said, her fist clenched before her. "I will be yours,
Ayukawa Madoka."
At that moment, the sun rose.
-> -> ->
"They won't let us film on school property?" Hatta shouted.
Komatsu winced. "Not so loud. I had a lot to drink last night."
The two were walking to the local Burger King to have an early
lunch. Hatta had spent the night on the floor of Komatsu's room.
Komatsu's mother had discovered this when she stepped on what she
assumed was a pile of dirty clothes, and it groaned. Her scream had
woken Komatsu several hours before he wished.
Not that Komatsu had wanted Hatta to spend the night. They had
walked home together, as Komatsu's house was closer. After Komatsu
went inside, he assumed Hatta went home. But when he looked out his
bedroom window, he saw Hatta in earnest conversation with a tree in
his front yard. It was then that Komatsu decided he wasn't safe to
walk home.
"I guess that kills 'The Slutty Schoolgirl Murders'," Hatta said.
"That, and the fact that there was no way in hell I would have
signed off on that," Komatsu said. He really didn't get slasher films.
He thought that teenagers should be rewarded, not punished, for having
sex so early in life.
"How about a silent movie? That would cut the costs in half, since
we wouldn't have to rent any sound equipment or buy tape. We could do
something Buster Keatonish," Hatta said.
"No thanks. I have no desire for a broken neck," Komatsu said.
"That was only one time," Hatta grumbled.
"I'm not going the art house route," Komatsu said. "We need
something original, but recognizable. Something challenging, but
comforting. Something groundbreaking, but familiar. Something complex,
but simple."
"You are aware you're contradicting yourself," Hatta said.
But Komatsu barely heard him, he started to walk across the
street, to where a puppet theatre had been set up. A couple of kids
were sitting on the sidewalk, looking enthralled.
"I am neither drunk or out of mind," one of the puppets said.
"This is it!" Komatsu said.
"I am simply here to ensure that the sentence is carried out
swiftly," another puppet said.
Komatsu turned to Hatta. "This is it!" he repeated. "Our national
legend, the bedrock of our very culture! A story everyone recognizes!"
"It's just a stupid puppet show," Hatta said.
"No, you fool! Can't you see? This is what George Lucas did! He
purified Western culture into its purest form, or more to the point he
got some sucker to do it for him, then he threw in ray guns and it
got him millions of dollars!" Komatsu said.
Hatta stared at the puppet show for a few more moments. "Yeah,
but they've made a bunch of movies out of this story. How could you
possibly expect to stand out? Are you going to make it a porno?"
Komatsu thought about that for a moment. "No, it would have to
be yaoi then. I really don't like that. No, we're going to make it
very popular by following in the footsteps of giants. We're going to
make the 47 Ronin..." he paused for effect. "...In Space!"
-> -> ->
Akane sat on her bed and stared at the wall. She'd gotten home
almost an hour ago. After assuring her father she'd had a good time at
Madoka's, she came up here to think.
It was a question of restraint, she decided. Remembering that old
novel Moby Dick (or rather, the general impression of the book she got
from modern culture), she decided that she should set some limits on
what she would do to win over Madoka.
She'd gone wrong before by attempting to tear down Kyosuke. She
had believed that by making Madoka hate him, she would look better.
Although she didn't like Kyosuke, she found that she loved him. She
cared what happened to him--and didn't want to cause him pain, either
by action or inaction.
Since she could not tear down her competitors, the only option
was to make herself better in Madoka's eyes. This had been the idea
she got last night, and through several hours of contemplation she'd
realized it was the right one.
Then she began to ponder one of the great eternal questions: how
does one impress Ayukawa Madoka?
-> -> ->
"Thanks for inviting us to lunch," Kyosuke said as he unwrapped
his whopper.
"Oh it was no problem at all," Komatsu said. "After all, it's the
least we could do for the rising stars of the Japanese film industry."
Kyosuke set his hamburger down and let out a long sigh. "You
can't just let this go, can you?"
Kurumi said, in a raspy voice: "What's he talking about?"
"We've come up with an idea for a better movie," Hatta said.
"It'll make us more famous than you could possibly imagine."
"We're going to do the 47 Ronin... IN SPACE!" Komatsu said.
Kyosuke rolled his eyes. "Where are going to get 47 actors from?"
"Well, they'll be wearing helmets, so we can double up," Komatsu
said.
"Having five people play 47 Samurai would require a lot more than
DOUBLING UP!" Kyosuke said.
"One person would have play approximately 9.4 ronin, yes, I get
that," Komatsu said. "But it'll add to the charm of the movie."
"But more than five of them couldn't be onscreen at any one time,
don't you think the audience would notice that?" Manami asked.
"Well, we could use dummies," Hatta said.
"We already have two of them," Kurumi said, and stuck out her
tongue.
"Wait a second, you're going to have women playing ronin?"
Kyosuke said.
"Well, we're never going to show them without their helmets on,
but yes," Komatsu said.
"So you're just looking for a warm body, huh?" Kurumi asked.
"Well..." Hatta said "I suppose we could write a new role."
"A princess!" Komatsu said. "Every good epic needs a princess.
We'll call her the princess... of silence!"
"Because she doesn't have any lines," Kurumi said. It was not a
question.
"No, she'll have lines," Komatsu said.
"Then why is she the princess of silence?" Kyosuke asked.
"Because we like the sound of it," Komatsu said.
"Why don't you just call her the princess of pregnancy and bare
feet?" Kyosuke said.
"There's no way I'm going to be in your stupid movie," Kurumi
said. "I have better things to do: like going to the dentist and
stepping on rusty nails."
"Count me out too," Kyosuke said. "I have a reputation to think
of."
"A reputation as a weak-willed, indecisive, waffling jerk?"
Komatsu asked.
"Better than being a C-movie star," Kyosuke said with a snarl.
"I'll help you," Manami said.
"Oh! Thank you, thank you!" Hatta said. "You'll make a wonderful
Princess of Silence!"
Komatsu regarded her with a stern look. "I'm afraid I must ask,
Manami: are you helping us out of pity?"
Manami blushed. "I... I suppose I am."
Komatsu shrugged. "Works for me. Welcome aboard."
-> -> ->
Akane laid the marker down and stood back to admire her work.
It was nothing more than a neatly grouped collection of words, but she
felt an odd sense of satisfaction as she gazed at it. She had managed
to completely dissect Madoka's character.
Beautiful, graceful, musical, glamorous, cultured,
"tough guy"/"bad girl" image... and at the very bottom was written
"strange sadness?".
Akane started to play with a yo-yo as she stared at the chart.
It helped her think. These qualities, she noted, are what made Madoka
who she was. These were also the things that Akane loved about her.
In order to become the ideal that Madoka would fall for, she would
need to replicate each of these qualities in herself. Akane sighed:
it was overwhelming.
Beauty would be easy: she knew she wasn't bad to look at. Guys
used to hit on her all the time until they realized what she was.
Grace would be a hard one. She was always so hard-headed and
ham-handed. Kyosuke once said that she moved around like an ape. She'd
smashed his face into the pavement; or so she liked to remember. She
wasn't much of a bruiser, she'd never done more than slap someone or
fight during a field hockey game. But all that would have to stop, she
realized.
Akane gulped: something was wrong. Realizing that she had to
monitor her actions from now on--it felt like she'd lost a part of
herself. Could she truly change her actions? That's just so much
pressure...
She sat on her bed, a heavy frown forming on her face. After a
moment she looked to the ceiling, where a picture of Madoka was
plastered.
She had to remember what she was doing this for. She had to
remember WHO she was doing this for. What's a little personality change
if she could wake up next to Ayukawa Madoka every morning for the rest
of her life?
Akane threw her shoulders back and let out a deep breath. She
stood up and went back to the chart.
Musical ability. She'd tried to play the trumpet as a kid, but
couldn't get it to sound right. She'd told the band teacher that she
couldn't get the trumpet to make the right noise. He'd looked at her
like she was a retard. She hadn't picked up an instrument since.
She looked at her hands: Madoka played the piano as well as the
saxophone. In fact, she was better at the piano. Akane liked using
computers: she could type over 80 WPM. Surely she could learn to play
something like a piano?
Except they didn't have a piano... Madoka had this great old
upright piano in her living room that she practiced on. Akane supposed
she could borrow the one at the school... but she was going to soon
lose access to that one.
Akane felt a cramp deep in the pit of her stomach. Yes, that was
the part that wasn't on the chart, because she couldn't bring herself
to put it on there.
The key to winning Madoka's heart wasn't any of these things:
though certainly, they would help. What she needed most of all was
familiarity. And she couldn't gain that sort of familiarity during the
few times they met on the weekends, and the rare times they met after
school.
The first step on this long road was by far the hardest. It was
also one she could never take back once she committed herself.
Akane needed to get herself expelled.
-> -> ->
"Is something wrong, Akane? You didn't say a single thing during
lunch," Michi asked.
Akane looked up from her algebra book. "Didn't have much to say,"
Akane said.
"You've been pretty quiet all day," Chie said, adjusting her
glasses. "Something on your mind?"
"Oh, the usual things," Akane said with a shrug.
Of course that was a lie. She'd spent all morning thinking of ways
to get expelled. Graffiti wasn't enough to get her expelled. Property
damage was, but then she'd have to pay for it and might even get in
trouble with the cops. All the other methods she came up with involved
hurting people, and that wasn't something she wanted to do.
Anno-sensei came in from the hallway, readjusting her blouse.
Akane cocked an eyebrow: she must've met the gym teacher in the
equipment shed again. Maybe she could try to blackmail her... No, it
was pretty much an open secret. Everyone who would have a problem with
it already knew.
Anno-sensei pulled out the waka book they'd been reading for the
past two weeks. "I hope everyone's done their homework for today's
Japanese class."
A few students groaned. Akane indifferently pulled her Japanese
folder out of her desk and took out a single sheet of paper. The poem
had been deceptively easy to write. She had a great muse, after all.
"Akane, would you like to read yours first?" Anno-sensei asked.
"Not especially," Akane said, candidly. Insubordination would
help, she suspected.
Anno-sensei just stared at her, Akane eventually had to break
eye-contact. She shuffled to the front of the room. She looked down
at the poem and suddenly felt better. She set it on the podium and
began to read:
"The Beauty of Lady M
In the cool moonlight,
Her long hair shimmers,
The color of midnight,
Yet each strand glimmers
Smooth cheeks blush in the brisk night air,
Bright eyes and sensuous soft lips,
Her complexion so very fair,
Her body's curve crests at her hips.
She wears a perfectly white kimono,
Which shows the line of her perfect round breasts,
Her body's frame is built like a willow,
And its supple fruit her perfect round breasts,
Fabric hides the silky smoothness of her long legs,
Bare feet as lovely as the Platonic ideal
Under her skirt: lower cheeks, formed like perfect eggs,
So lucky am I, that this Lady M is real."
Her heart had begun to race as she read it, it was all so TRUE!
She had expected some applause, or even just Anno-sensei telling her
to take her seat: but there was nothing but unearthly silence.
Akane looked up, and everyone in the room was staring at her in
wide-eyed shock. Anno-sensei's mouth was hanging open.
"You must understand why we find this poem of yours disturbing,
Akane," the headmistress said.
"No, I don't," Akane said. "Since when was an examination of
feminine beauty a crime?"
"It isn't what you said in this poem that bothers us, it's why
we think you said it," the headmistress said.
Akane sunk into the chair, a defiant scowl crossing her face.
"I wrote it as a self-portrait. It's the love I feel for myself, and
shows how I find myself attractive. Now if you find self-love to be
a bad thing, you should get rid of those Self-Esteem pamphlets in the
student center-"
"I wouldn't describe your hair as 'the color of midnight', Akane,"
the headmistress said.
Damn, Akane thought. "It's more broad then self-love, it's
praising the female physique in general."
"But you already said it was a self-portrait, Akane. And even if
this ode to physique is all this is, that's just as bad," the
headmistress said.
There was an anger inside Akane that been there constant since her
moment of self-discovery at the age of 8. This anger, which was usually
nothing more than a soft buzz in her skull, suddenly spiked. Akane's
face curled into a snarl as she began to shout at the headmistress.
"What the hell is your problem, anyway? So what if I like women
and not men? How is that any skin off your nose? For the love of Christ,
why can't you just live and let live?" Akane bellowed.
"Because, Akane-san, there is right and wrong in this world, and-"
the headmistress began.
"Yes, I quite agree that there are some things which are inherently
wrong. But I don't think that love between two consenting adults,
regardless of gender, qualifies as wrong or evil! What kind of psycho
are you that you can think that way?!" Akane said.
"Watch your tone, Kasuga-san," the headmistress said, with what
Akane later realized was a dangerous tone.
Akane rose and slammed her fist onto the desk. "You are nothing
more than a small-minded bigot!"
Yokoi-sensei was explaining how to rationalize a denominator when
she heard someone run down the hallway. As they got closer, she
remembered that Keiko had gone to the bathroom about five minutes ago.
The feet skidded to a halt before the classroom, and Keiko yanked
the door open. She rushed in, panting. She tried to speak, but had to
catch her breath first.
Yokoi-sensei looked at her sternly. "Keiko, what's the meaning of
this?"
"A-a-Akane!" Keiko finally managed to say.
Yuki stood up from her seat. "What happened to Akane?!"
"Akane... She's been expelled!" Keiko said.
Suddenly Yokoi's scowl vanished, and she fell into her chair,
speechless. There were gasps from all corners of the room; many were
completely in shock. Several even started crying.
Far off, the school clock struck the hour.
After the principal's secretary had tried three times to get
Akane's mother on the phone, the principal had one of his
student-toadies escort Akane off-campus. She then walked to the park
across the street and sat on a bench.
She stared at Hoshi All-Girl's School. She didn't hate Hoshi's;
she'd enjoyed going there. She liked the students, the teachers, and
she thought they liked her. That's why this hurt so damn much.
The really funny thing is that she hadn't been trying to get
expelled. She was trying to figure out a master plan, and this just
fell in her lap. She couldn't help but smile at that.
"Excuse me, miss, shouldn't you be in school?" a voice said from
behind her.
Akane looked over her shoulder and saw a police-man standing
behind the bench. She recognized him as Officer Saito, who covered this
neighborhood's truant beat.
"I don't have a school to go to, I've been expelled," Akane said.
"Surely you can do better than that," Saito said.
Akane took the note to her parents the principal gave her and
handed it to Saito.
Saito unfolded the paper and glanced over it. He stiffened as
he did so. He folded it over and handed it back to Akane.
"Shouldn't you be going home?" Saito asked.
"I just want to sit here for a while..." Akane said. Then she
shrugged. "Besides, my parents aren't going to be back until 6 anyway."
Akane thought Saito looked confused. He chewed on his lower lip
for a few moments. Finally he said: "Stay out of trouble," and moved
on.
She wondered how long it would take to get into Kouryou; probably
not tomorrow. Maybe if she went over and talked to the principal.
Her parents would have to admire that kind of take-charge attitude...
But she'd told Saito the truth: she really just wanted to sit
here for a while, and ponder the life-chaning events that had taken
place.
Yuki was halfway through her salami sandwich when Kaori came over
to talk to her.
"Guess you blew it, huh?" Kaori said.
Yuki looked up from his fashion magazine. "What are you talking
about?"
"Now that Akane's out of our school, any chances you had with
her now approach zero," Kaori said.
Yuki felt her nostrils burn, as they were wont to do when she
felt grief. She shrugged it off; literally, so Kaori could see it.
"I assume she's having a great time with that boyfriend of hers.
I, of all people, should accept that you can't change or challenge
how people feel," Yuki said.
"Her boyfriend?" Kaori said, wrinkling her nose. "Oh! That
Kyosuke guy?"
"Yeah, you met him?" Yuki said.
"No, but I heard from Chie about that. He's actually her cousin.
She was only pretending to date him to get her and Michi to stop their
griping about her not having a boyfriend," Kaori said. "Just between
you, me, and the salami sandwich: I hear she likes girls."
Yuki started to feel her blood boil, but it was overshadowed by
a bright deluge of hope. Akane liked girls! There was still hope.
Then Yuki felt depressed again. How often was she going to see
Akane, now that they didn't go to school together anymore?
But she couldn't let an opportunity like this go. She couldn't
allow this love to remain unrequited. She had to convince Akane to
give her a shot: by any means necessary.
-> -> ->
This will be where the rockets take off, Komatsu thought to
himself. He took in the long fields of billowing green grass and
smirked. He held up his Polaroid and snapped a picture, not bothering
to look into the viewfinder.
"I thought this was going to take place in space?" Hatta said.
"Nah, you can't have it set completely in space. Either you're
stuck making expensive effects shots, or cramped interior shots on
expensive sets," Komatsu said. "What we do is we film on a day where
there's no clouds, and we use Chromoa Key to turn the sky purple and
drop in a couple of moons."
"But those shots always look so fake! Remember the Master in that
episode where Tom Baker died?" Hatta said.
"Well, technology has come a long way in the past five years,"
Komatsu said.
"And why are we here, anyway? These don't look much different than
the fields by our school," Hatta said.
"Because there are more girls here," Komatsu said with a perverted
giggle.
Hatta smiled. "I was beginning to think your newfound love of
movies had neutered you."
"Have to keep an eye out for Akane, though," Komatsu said. When
Akane was around, he wasn't able to hit on girls. He felt threatened
in a way he couldn't quite explain. Hatta seemed to feel the same way.
Komatsu checked his watch. "What's taking them so long, anyway?
We got let out half-an-hour ago."
As if in answer, at that very moment, the school's bell rung for
the final time that day.
"This place is going to suck without you," Michi said.
"That's so true!" Chie said. "Everyone was saying that.
Chikako-sensei was crying her eyes out when she heard!"
Akane continued to stare at the school building from her bench
across the street.
"Yeah, well, sometimes sacrifices have to be made," Akane said in
a haunted tone.
Chie squinted. "What are you talking about?"
Akane finally turned to her friends. "Never mind. Everything's
going to be all right. We'll still be able to see each other on the
weekends," she said.
"But who's going to show the teachers their place?" Michi asked.
"Who's going to force us to have extraordinary lives?" Chie asked.
"Without you, the school's...normal." She spat out the last word like
a curse.
Akane jumped to her feet, and held up in her fist. It was a pose
meant to inspire. "I'm moving on to greener pastures, my friends. I
will finally win the love of Ayukawa Madoka!"
Michi rolled her eyes. "Not THIS again!"
Madoka? That was a girl's name, Yuki thought. So Kaori had been
right: Akane had only been pretending to be straight!
Yuki snuck another peek around the tree's trunk. The three girls
were still deep in conversation, and didn't notice her. Yuki moved back
behind the tree and leaned against its trunk.
This complicated things, of course. She had competition, and her
competitor was an unknown quantity. What kind of girl would it take
to get Akane all weak in the knees?
Akane was so strong, smart, and popular. What would it take to
make her all gooey inside, and leave her lost for words? Who did she
think about when she was in bed at night and reached down to...
No, enough of that, Yuki upbraided herself. Just the half-formed
thought had gotten her flushed. She let out a long, hot sigh.
"Stupid teacher," a male voice growled. Yuki looked over and saw
two guys crossing the street. One of them had something hanging around
his neck that looked like half of a pair of binoculars. She had the
strangest feeling she'd seen them before.
"You gave up too easy! You don't think she was really going to
call the cops, do you?" the one with glasses asked.
The first one didn't reply to his friend, as he had noticed Yuki.
He rushed over to her.
"Hello cutie, I haven't seen you around before," he said.
Yuki narrowed her eyes at him. She had trouble understanding the
attraction women had to men in general, but she couldn't conceive of
how someone could possibly find a slug like this attractive.
She was about to use some colorful language to get rid of him,
when she heard Akane chortle. She felt a hot spike of anger stab
into her chest. She'd felt this once before, when she'd seen Akane
hugging that Kyohiro guy: bitter, bitter jealousy.
Suddenly she felt a release, and the wonderful feeling of
weightlessness that comes with intuitive insight: she knew how she
could make Akane notice her. Jealousy.
"I think I would've remembered seeing someone like you," Yuki
said, in saccharine tones. "You from around here?"
"Ah, no. We don't go here...well, obviously, we got to Koryou,
and, uh..." the guy just stared at the ground for a few moments.
Yuki walked closer to him, getting inside his comfort zone. He
gulped as he stared at her. This was going to be so easy.
School had been over for two hours, and the wind had gained a
chill. Akane found it refreshing.
"So... I guess this is it," Chie said. Akane imagined she saw
tears in her eyes.
Akane checked her watch and frowned. "Yeah, time to go face the
music."
"Perhaps we'll go to the same college," Michi said.
Akane smiled, and rubbed Michi's cheek. "Pollyannaish to the very
end, ne?"
Akane turned as she heard a familiar voice from a nearby grove of
trees. Yuki emerged from the grove, followed by Komatsu and Hatta.
"Don't worry, silly boy, of course I'll call you," Yuki said. She
caught Akane's eye, and pulled a business card out of her breast pocket
and handed it to Komatsu. "But you can call me first if you want."
"Oh! Oh, thank you!" Komatsu said.
Akane raised both eyebrows in surprise. Some poor girl had finally
taken an interest in Komatsu. She felt her heart warm, and she found
herself smiling glibly. Although she wouldn't have chosen to inflict
Komatsu on anyone, much less Yuki, Akane was glad she'd finally found
someone.
End Part 1
* - for Yuki's introduction see Volume 13, story 9 of the manga.
(v.8, story 4 in the wideband.)
Script available here:
http://www.animeraiders.com/creed/Kortrans/Korw0804.txt