Akira Pseudo-Route [Complete!]

WORDS WORDS WORDS


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nemz
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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route

Post by nemz »

I, um... read ahead. :mrgreen: It's good stuff, and I'm rather digging this version of Hisao!
Rin > Shizune > Emi > Hanako > Lilly
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Thanatos02
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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route

Post by Thanatos02 »

nemz wrote:I, um... read ahead. :mrgreen: It's good stuff, and I'm rather digging this version of Hisao!
I'm glad you're liking it so far!
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Thanatos02
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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route

Post by Thanatos02 »

Note to self: pay attention to post size in the future. This isn't pastebin.

Act 2 - Part 3-2: Black Coffee

“Hey. I remember you; you’re the woman I met at the suit shop.” I reply.

“Yeah, fancy that. I didn't think I'd run into you again.” she responds.

Yuuko looks between us, head tilted as she tries to figure out how we're related.

“Are you two together?” she asks.

“Nah, he can sit here if he wants to though.” the blonde woman answers.

I look between the two of them before shrugging my shoulders and shuffling into the seat across from her.

“So, what will you be ordering?” Yuuko asks.

That’s a strange question to be asking without a menu or even a list of what this diner serves. Is it one of those secret menu places where only current or ex-employees eat to feel smug because they’re the only ones that know what kind of food is actually made here? Seems like a really counter-productive business strategy; only tell the employees what there is to serve and then let it disseminate among the public because you want to save money on printing menus?

“Coffee.” I announce, at a loss for what else I could possibly order.

To my surprise, however, the woman across from me calls for the same thing, at the same time. Yuuko looks back and forth between us before disappearing into the kitchen.

“You a coffee person too?” she asks, propping her chin up on the palm of her hand.

“Mostly. I’ve been drinking a lot of tea lately, but it’s just not my thing.”

“I know what you mean. Tea just isn’t my cup of tea.” she replies with a snicker. “Don’t tell my sister I said that though.”

“Your sister is more of a tea person?” I ask.

“She lives on the stuff. I don’t think she’s had anything else to drink for as long as I’ve known her.” she says with another giggle.

Now I just need to figure out who her sister is, because something like that sounds awfully familiar. If the girl before me is who I think she is, then I think I’d have to keep myself from laughing as well.

“So, I don’t think we’ve done introductions yet.” she comments.

“Ah, yeah. I’m Hisao Nakai.”

“Akira Satou.”

Mystery solved!

“What brings you here today, Hisao?”

“Still trying to get a feel for the place. I just transferred here about a week ago.”

“Transferred? You mean to Yamaku?” she asks, tilting her head.

“Yeah.”

“Ah, that’s where my sister goes. You might have met her, actually, do you know a-“

“Lilly Satou?”

“Yep, you’ve met her.” she replies.

“I actually had tea with her yesterday.” I retort, letting a chuckle escape my throat.

“You two get along well, huh?” she asks.

Is that the big sister instinct kicking in? Trying to make sure that her precious younger sibling isn’t being profiled by a borderline delinquent like me?

“For the most part. I don’t think I’d ever try to do something like pursue her as anything other than a friend, though.”

“Good answer.” she replies, tilting her head back and giving a sigh of relief.

At this point Yuuko returns with two coffee cups, filled to the brim with delicious black nectar, emitting steam in the most enticing of ways.

I don’t think I can remember the last time I had a good cup of coffee. Not for the last six months, at any rate. In fact, should I even be drinking coffee again? Something that counts as a stimulant can’t possibly be good for my condition.

Oh well, what’s the worst it can do?

“You drink your coffee black?” Akira asks, already reaching for the sugar.

I nod my head before allowing small sips of the fluid to slide in between my lips, welcoming my tongue to that long-missed bitter taste as it warms my throat.

“Hm. That’s a good quality for a man to have.” she replies with a smile before tilting the open end of two pink sugar packets into her cup.

“Oh really now? So is it a good quality for women to prefer their coffee with two sugars?”

“What do you think?” she asks, head tilted in genuine curiosity.

Well, for one, I’m not quite sure how you can interpret what kind of a person someone is just by their preference in coffee. And if so, what does it mean? Does black coffee mean I’m dark and bitter? Or could it mean that deep down, I’m trying too hard to be dark and bitter?

What does her coffee say about her? The bitter taste of straight coffee is too strong without sugar, but too much sugar ruins the flavor? Does she prefer when things are sensible and easy to swallow? Or does she just like sugary things, like most girls? All of the above?

There’s also the chance that I’m just overthinking this, and you can’t really get a grip on who someone is just by how they drink their damned coffee.

“Maybe?”

“I’ll take it.” she says before tilting the rim of the cup up to her lips, taking small sips at a time.

“The coffee here is better than the swill you’re forced to buy in the city. I always stop here when I pass through.” she comments after a satisfied sigh.

“Really? What’s wrong with ‘city coffee’?”

“Stuff is too watered down for me. If they’re going to charge me ¥1,000 for a cup of coffee, I want ¥1,000 coffee, not some half-crushed up coffee beans mixed together with lukewarm water.” she replies.

“So you come to this little town, practically in the middle of nowhere, just for coffee?” I ask.

“Hey, I'm a woman who likes her beverages.” she says with a goofy grin before continuing onto “nah, I was actually here to discuss a few plans with my sister; got a friend's birthday coming up here in a couple of weeks.”

“Really? Can't you do things like that over the phone?” I ask out of curiosity.

“Well, yeah, but I don't get to see the girl nearly enough these days, y'know? I was lucky enough to actually get more than thirty minutes for a break today.”

“I see what you mean. My relatives all live too far away to visit on a regular b-”

'BRRRT BRRRT'

Akira grabs the vibrating plastic slab off the table, letting out an exasperated groan as the first few words roll out of the receiver. 'Check the manual, I don't have time for that.' 'Send him up to 101 and have O'Brien deal with him.'

Despite that; the call only lasts for a rather curt minute, with Akira slapping the phone shut and sliding it into her pocket with a look of disappointment.

“Work?” I ask.

“Yep, it was.” she answers, “I wish I could stay here and talk with you some more, but it’s about time for me to be getting back.” she comments, standing up with her wallet in hand.

“Really? You sounded like you were off for the rest of the day.”

“That's what I thought too.” she counters.

“Alright, don’t worry about me; I’m sure we’ll run into each other again someday.” I comment with a laugh.

“No doubt about it. See you around, Hisao.” she replies, heading off to the front counter to pay for her cup of coffee.

...

That woman is something else.



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Last edited by Thanatos02 on Thu Jul 24, 2014 6:44 am, edited 4 times in total.
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NullTwelve
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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route [Updated as of 10/23]

Post by NullTwelve »

I like it. I like it a lot :D.
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demonix
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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route

Post by demonix »

Thanatos02 wrote:“So does my sister, and yet I've run into you more than I've seen here this week.” she answers.
I believe that should be her and not here (I've had a few issues with putting extra letters into a word, as well as hitting the caps lock key instead of a on the keyboard).
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Thanatos02
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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route [Updated as of 10/23]

Post by Thanatos02 »

This one is really narrative heavy, and I'll be the first to admit admit that it's mostly filler because I suck at writing the "in-between" stuff. Originally I planned for just part 1 and 2 to be stage-setting chapters, and then that turned into 1-4, and now pretty much all of scenes 1-6 are setting up for or leading into scene 7. I'm planning for part 7 is going to be the 'finale' of act 2, when the story between Hisao and Akira (hopefully) kicks off.
Also, In case I didn't make it clear; I really appreciate all the positive feedback I've gotten so far, and I wish I could go back and respond to and thank each of y'all individually.
In less related news: I can't make up my mind on what to use as an avatar, so I might go without one completely.

Act 2 - Part 4-1: A Spark Ignited

7:58 A.M.

Given that it's a Saturday morning, normally this would be a time I'd dread waking up around. But today is different – I feel anxious, like a child who can't wait for the day to change to December 25th so they can wake their parents up at 12:01, thinking it'll work.

Maybe I'm not that excited, but I'm still itching to get to the destination. It doesn’t help that the past few days have sped by so quickly, with nothing to speak of ever since I met Akira again.

The itch could very well be the new suit I've decided to wear for the occasion as well. I'm thinking I should have at least gotten it dry cleaned before I hopped in this morning.

A sea of green and brown scrolls by the window as Mutou and I drive to a city about ninety minutes away from Yamaku, the sound of an early-morning news station blending with purr of the small hybrid engine.

“Looking forward to it?” the man in the driver seat asks.

Whereas I've thrown on what might be the most professional outfit I've ever work; Mutou has decided to attend in his usual attire. That iconic brown duster, paired with a pair of black slacks and a dress shirt of the same color. Not much coordination there, but he never appeared to be the type to worry about such things – especially since it seems like he never combs his hair. Or shaves more than once a week.

“Yeah.” I reply, eyeballing the program in my hands once more.

It’s a two-day event, but we’ve only made time to go for a few hours today. Most of the events, however, seem like they’d be above the level of even a hardened college student.

A trip to the 11th dimension? Supergravity? Those sound like concepts that could be the title of a sci-fi book, and yet at 11:00 A.M there’s going to be a published theoretical physicist giving an hour-long lecture over the topics.

I recognize a few of these subjects, but even then I only have a vague knowledge of them. Global Warming is something I think I know enough about to have an opinion on, but I’m sure the lecture about it is just going to turn my brain and everything I know inside out.

But for every subject I think I understand; there’s at least three that elude my understanding altogether.

“What’s a ‘Higgs Boson?’” I ask aloud, tilting my head in confusion.

For some strange reason; my vision transitions from the sight of a beautiful morning countryside to a slideshow of terror as the sound of screeching brakes fills my ears.

Wait, no, whyAREWESTOPPINGTHECAR?!

“The Higgs Boson is a theoretical particle that...” Mutou calls out, having to yell over the sound of his tires dragging across the asphalt, right there in the middle of the highway. The wheel jerks back and forth in his hands as the car's steering tries to fight against his absurd commands. At one point he has to yank it off center to keep from slamming into an oncoming truck, not the least bit fazed as a slew of scientific jargon billows from his mouth.

We slow to a sudden halt, almost throwing me into the dashboard before my science teacher turns to me and begins to gesture with his hands. His mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the right words to complete his explanation, most of which has been droned out by the sound of my heart on the verge of exploding.

“...Never mind.” he concludes, shaking his head as a sigh escapes his throat.

WHATDOYOUMEANNEVERMIND?!

“We might be here all day if I try to explain that. Let’s get to the symposium so you can learn about it from someone with a little more exp-”

For the first time he looks over and sees me clutching my chest, eyes widened in fright.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just not very good with surprises.” I answer.

He reverts to his calm demeanor, gradually accelerating back to highway speeds before someone can ram into us, meanwhile I’m still left clutching my chest in pain, wincing as my heart throbs against my sternum. I’m not sure if Mutou knows it, but surprises don’t really work too well with my condition.

******************

“We’re late.” Mutou grumbles.

Of course we’re late. We just spent half an hour trying to find a parking spot. I knew there was going to be at least a thousand people here, but couldn’t a few of them carpooled or something? Maybe some of the more accomplished scientists decided to drive both of their expensive cars here just to show off.

Speaking of which; every other car here is a Prius. I've lost count of them, in fact – there’s got to be at least twenty in this single lot alone, not counting the one we drove in with.

I wonder if all of the people here dress like Mutou. He’s about as close to a genuine ‘scientist’ as I can see, discounting all the faces I’ve seen in the news over the years. Imagine that, a mob of young to middle-aged men all with unkempt hair and tan longcoats.

He checks his watch and grimaces. “We’re going to miss the lecture on genome mapping I wanted to attend, but if we hurry we can still get to the one on global warming.”

I nod and follow him as he steps off to a building around the corner.

“Do you know anything about global warming?” he asks from over his shoulder.

“Only a little. I've never really worried about it.” I reply.

“I hope you're not the worrying type. The first time I heard this program I went out and bought a new car.” Mutou responds with a chuckle.

“It's a shame he hasn't changed his content in five years, though. Maybe there'll be something different this time.” he muses, thinking back to past events.

It's apparent that he comes here every year, so he's gotta know where to go; but could he at least mention some directions? It doesn’t help that he walks so fast. I've never really seen him outside of class, so I can't tell if this is his normal walking speed, or if he's just ecstatic to get inside. Considering how 'at home' he feels in the classroom, this must be some kind of heaven for him.

Once inside, I’m reminded of just how much of a crowd a thousand people is. There’s at least a hundred standing around here in the lobby, their conversations blending together and creating a cacophonous roar. A very calm and enlightening roar, but it’s a lot of noise regardless.

Also worth noting is that the only other man in a brown duster the one standing beside me.

It’s at this point that Mutou hands me my nametag -- a white slip of paper with a safety pin on back. The previous name, ‘Isaac C.’, has been scratched out with black sharpie marker and replaced with ‘Hisao N.’

I attach it to the lapel of my suit jacket and continue onward, stepping in and out of the crowd of scientists or other such science-affiliated persons. It takes us a few minutes to make it to the other end of the lobby, in front of a sign that reads ‘Global Warming – A Simple Explanation.’

A simple explanation? I suppose that’s a good thing for people like me – especially since I appear to be the only person here under the age of 25. It’s also worth noting that I’m the only male without facial hair of some sort; be it anything from Mutou’s stubble to a waist-length white beard.

“Alright, we made it with a few minutes to spare.”

We peer into the small lecture hall, almost silent except for the sound of shuffling papers on the stage. Every seat is vacant despite there only being a few minutes until it begins.

“He takes volunteers for something every year, so we'd better sit near the back.” Mutou whispers in my ear.

I nod my head and follow, choosing to sit in the mid-back row. Other attendees file in behind us, making the room a little more lively but still leaving half of the seats unfilled.

Despite the underwhelming attendance, the man on stage still stands up and begins his program right on the mark, requesting that the doors be left open before speaking.

****************

And I thought I knew something about global warming. My mind isn’t quite so split open as I expected, but I can see information like this getting to people who don’t know a lot about the topic. His method of explaining it really helped as well. Present speculation, and then use facts to back it up or, at the very least, make his speculation plausible.

Specific numbers and graphs didn’t do much for me, though I’m sure they were only there for the more experienced attendees, those with an actual degree in something.

Mutou doesn’t seem to hold the same fascination as me, however. In fact, going by his and a lot of other comments, it would seem that I just heard a lecture that everyone else has already gone through multiple times.

“It was a repeat of last year.” he mentions, a look of boredom in his eye.

“Really? I enjoyed it.”

“You did? Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Mutou replies, suddenly feeling more upbeat. “What do you want to hear about next? I think they’re doing string theory at noon.”

A consultation of the program indicates that, yes, there’s going to be a seminar on string theory at 12:15 P.M -- specifically the heterotic superstring theory.

String theory is one of those things I know next to nothing about. I've heard the bare minimum, something like 'all matter is composed of tiny subatomic strings', but I never understood what it meant or how it worked. I suppose today I'll find out, since I am here to figure out what I want to do with my life.

It's already right around noon, so we decide to head straight to the next event. It only takes ten minutes to walk around the civic center to find it, an auditorium with a seating capacity of... eight hundred people?

Unlike the last event, this one is already near capacity, with many more patrons flooding in to try and find a seat. The wide room buzzes with conversation and speculation, all anticipating the performance of a man on stage.

It takes a bit of struggling, but Mutou and I finally secure two seats near the front row, just in time for the event to start.
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Thanatos02
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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route [Updated as of 10/23]

Post by Thanatos02 »

Act 2 - Part 4-2: A Spark Ignited

...What.

Three dimensions? Four dimensions? Screw that, there's TEN DIMENSIONS. NO, ELEVEN.

GENERAL RELATIVITY AND QUANTUM MECHANICS. TACHYONS. COMPACTIFICATION.

THE UNIVERSE IS A SYMPHONY OF VIBRATING STRINGS.

TWANGIN' THE STRING TURNS ELECTRONS INTO NEUTRINOS. NEUTRINOS INTO PROTONS. PROTONS INTO HAM.

QUARKS, GLUONS, LEPTONS, YANG-MILLS PARTICLES AND THAT HIGGS BOSON THING HE THREW THAT AROUND A LOT TOO.

ONE IDEA THAT EXPLAINS EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING IN THE UNIVERSE.

My brain hurts. I'm going to save that one for later.

I like that he tried to dumb it down for the less educated listeners like me, but “a unified theory that explains everything” doesn't help me much. I'm not even sure if I'm wise and experienced enough to want to hunt down an explanation for, literally, everything of physical nature in the universe.

“Could you make sense of any of that?” I ask, desperate to know if that hour-and-a-half-long speech went over someone else’s head besides mine.

“Don't feel bad, even the guys up there on stage don't understand it completely.” Mutou responds, waving his hand as if to dismiss the thought altogether.

“They don't? How can they have all this information on it then?”

“Well, it's all theoretical. The way they present it makes it seem plausible, but it takes time for something to be accepted as fact. We won't be getting solid, physical proof in favor of superstring theory for at least another decade or so.”

“Why not? They sounded like they had it all worked out.”

“That's the problem, they have it all worked out. Now what if everything they've worked out isn't concrete?” Mutou responds, hands gesturing back and forth as he goes into teacher-mode.

“I remember reading an article a few months ago where a couple of guys over at CERN proved the existence of a particle that travels faster than the speed of light.” he continues.

“Yeah, neutrinos, I saw that all over the news.” I answer.

“Good. Now, Einstein hypothesized that it takes an infinite amount of energy to go faster than the speed of light. Does this new particle prove him wrong, and have we found an infinite source of energy?” He asks; arms spread out to emphasize his question.

“No?”

“Of course not, that's why it's called a hypothesis. One half of science is guessing, and the other half is proving it right or wrong. Einstein; Albert Einstein, was merely inaccurate.”

“...Or was he?” Mutou suggests, scratching his chin.

My brain already hurts. Was it right or wrong? Why do we have to jump through all these flaming 'what if' hoops to get anything done?

“Another test suggests that neutrinos are, in fact, slower than the speed of light. Now, do we trust the first test, or the second one?”

“I have no idea. Why doesn't someone do the math to prove which one is more accurate? Run more trials, even.” I answer, scratching my head to try and look through all the muddled and conflicting thoughts.

“And there you go! That mindset is what makes theoretical physicists.” Mutou answers with excitement. “Well, maybe with a bit more purpose and devotion, but you've got the idea.”

“That's all it takes? To want to know?” I ask.

Last I checked; it takes years and years of study just to find out one thing. And that's not counting the 6+ years it took to get a respectable degree in that field of study to begin with. Then there's the people like me who can't even wrap their heads around stuff like this. You can't honestly say anyone can get up, grab some scratch paper, and start proving Einstein right or wrong.

“For the most part, yeah. You just need to have the mindset. Some government funding goes a long way, as well.” he replies with a chuckle.

It's gonna take a while to make a believer out of me. Solving my personal problems comes before tackling the validity of reality-altering concepts.

“So, Hisao, where do you want to go eat?”

But isn't the idea the same? The scientific method is there for figuring out why and how things happen. Observe, hypothesize, predict, test, and analyze. Does that really work for all things? Can I just take a step back, observe my situation, and theorize as to why I’m such a dunce around people? Does that even make for a testable hypothesis?

“Hisao?”

Psychology is the science of the human mind. Do they use the scientific method for figuring out why people are happy, sad, crazy, depressed, or angry? If I want to find out about my problem, would I have to become a psychologist? Or maybe see a psychologist?

“Hisao, are you in there?”

What if it has to do with the people around me? Sociology or something. Do they use the scientific method to figure out what makes people flock to one demographic or another? What makes groups of people collapse to one individual section of society, or one type of person?

“Hey, come on.” Mutou says with a hint of worry, nudging my shoulder.

“Oh, sorry, I got caught up.”

“Don't think too hard about things. You're still young. Wait until you're my age to start getting lost in thought.” he comments with a smile.

I check the program once again. It's around one in the afternoon, so there's a 45-minute break for the stages to be set for the next batch of speakers, philosophers, and other such men and women.

“So, one more time, anywhere you want to eat?”

Oh, right, it's also for the lunch break.

“I'm not too picky, really.” I answer.

“Good. I'm in the mood for some sheep intestine, myself.” Mutou muses.

“Some what?!”

“I'm just kidding. There's a steakhouse down the road; you don't mind walking a bit, do you?”
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Thanatos02
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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route [Updated as of 10/23]

Post by Thanatos02 »

Act 2 - Part 4-3: A Spark Ignited

The waitress scrawls our orders onto a small notepad and leaves us with a 'be right back', disappearing into a pair of kitchen doors.

“So, are you enjoying yourself so far? Learn anything?” Mutou asks.

“I wouldn't really say it's so much fun as it is educational.” I reply.

“Are the two mutually exclusive?” he retorts, eyebrow raised.

“Ah, well, no. It's just...”

“I'm just messing with you, some of these guys are too old to remember the meaning of fun.” he replies. “ Although you have to admit, Kaku did a really good job with his explanation on string theory.”

“I got all the musical metaphors, but everything else went entirely over my head.”

“But you understood the basic concept, right?”

“Something like tiny sub-atomic strings being the basis of all things in the universe?”

Mutou claps his hands. “It took multiple nobel-prize winning scientists dozens of years just to get that far, and yet you know that much after a 90 minute lecture.”

“But I don't know why, or how, or-”

“Sometimes, knowing is enough.”

“But I don't want to just know, I want to understand.” I reply.

At this point the waitress comes back with a plate in each hand, setting them down on the table before stepping off to another booth.

“With knowledge comes wisdom, and with wisdom comes understanding. Slow down and take it easy, you're still young.”

With knowledge comes wisdom and understanding? How can I just accept it as fact? This is why I'm here! I want to know WHY things happen, HOW they happen. Mutou himself is a scientist, shouldn't that be his mindset first and foremost?

“How did you become a teacher?” I ask.

Mutou stops between bites of a medium-rare steak, fork suspended in mid-air as he swallows the food presently in his mouth.

“I went to college, got a degree in teaching, and applied to Yamaku. I like the way things are handled here, it's better than any other public school I've been to.”

“I mean... Why did you become a teacher?”

At this, he places his utensils down and tents his hands together, staring me in the eye.

“Well, my original plans were to be a research chemist. Nothing big or luxurious, I just wanted to work in a lab. And I did that for a while; I graduated from my university with honors with my Bachelor's in Chemistry.” he starts.

“I eventually landed a job as a technical chemist – the testing part of the equation. Science and engineering firms would design new chemicals or products, and we'd run tests on them. Efficiency, safety, and whatever else was on the list.”

“This went on for a few years before I realized that I wasn't going anywhere. The guy in charge had been there for twenty years, and showed no signs of leaving and letting someone else move up any time soon; and at the same time, all of my co-workers were either leaving or going back to college to do something else.”

“Why? Because the work was terrible. 'Here, we need you to find out if this additive makes cereal more crunchy,' 'oh, we developed this chemical that makes paint dry slower, get a man on that.'”

“It was nice when we got to evaluate something cool like explosives, but even that got boring after the first three or four years.”

“I took a step back and I looked at my life. The pay was decent, but that didn't change the fact that I was working what amounted to a dead-end job doing nothing but boring and tedious work. It didn't help that I was stuck with a team of 7 to 12 other guys who felt the same way and were about as sociable as an old textbook. I had no wife, no kids, my family had all moved up north, and there was never anything good on TV.”

“So you left?” I ask.

“So I left. I wanted to do something with people, but I didn't want to go back to the that stagnant, sterile hellhole. End of the story: I went back to school, became a teacher, and here I am today.” he finishes, explaining everything as though it had simply happened overnight.

“Do you like teaching better?”

“I hate to phrase it like this, but I think I was born to be a teacher.” he replies, scratching his cheek in embarrassment.

“So you gave up your dream of being a scientist to become a teacher?”

“Technically speaking; yes, I did. However, I don't think I gave up my dream, I believe it was more of an alteration of my plans. My dream changed, so to speak.”

His dream just... changed? Was it an overnight thing? Did he just wake up one morning and decide 'enough is enough'?

“But that's enough about me, really. What is your dream, Hisao? Have you figured out what you want to do?”

Not quite. I know two things; I don't want to be held back by this condition, and I don't want to be useless anymore. But WHOOPS that brings right back to the 'what am I supposed to do' problem.

“Well, I think graduating high school is a good start.”

“That is a great start, believe it or not. Anything after that?”

“That's what I'm still trying to figure out.” I answer, exhaling a long sigh.

“You know what you want to do?”

“I don't want to be useless anymore?”

Mutou gives me a frown for my trouble, going silent for a few seconds as he tries to figure out the 'proper' way to respond.

It must be nice knowing what your dreams are; what you want to do, what you have to do to get there, and how to deal with anything along the way. For just one day, I want to know what it's like to be in his shoes; to have my dreams all sorted out. To be able to lay around, calm and collected, waiting for the chance to move forward.

Maybe that's all I want: to move forward. Mutou, Yuuko, Akira, all of them can keep pressing on, maybe I just need to try to be more like them.

“Personally, the only advice I can give you is to stick with what you love. If you love reading; then be an author. Math? Be an engineer. There's thousands of possibilities out there, and the toughest choice is picking one of them.”

“Alright, I'll do that.” I answer.

He doesn't seem convinced in the slightest, but he still elects to drop the subject and get back to his meal, which has started to go cold. To say nothing of my food, which I haven't even touched yet.

****************

Well, I’d have preferred if it was a bit cheaper, but at least it filled me up better than anything I’ve ever had at the cafeteria.

“So, the second part of the day is about to start up. Anything you’re interested in?” Mutou asks.

If I remember correctly, there should be a program about extraterrestrial life back in the auditorium.

“There’s a lecture on aliens in 15 minutes.” I comment.

“Aliens? You don’t believe in aliens, do you, Hisao?” Mutou answers with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I mean, I can’t say for a fact they exist. But this whole ‘the universe is infinite’ business has me thinking that if everything goes on forever; isn’t there a slight possibility that there could be someone else out there?”

“Now you're thinking like a scientist! You could be an astronomer with that mindset. Maybe even a xenoarchaeologist, depending on how you look at it.” he stops and answers, his hands motioning about in excitement.

So just from my random musings, I could be a theoretical physicist, astronomer, or archaeologist. I don’t want to believe that scientists are all just normal people with their heads screwed on a little differently, but I’m getting a lot of signs that point to that.

Maybe I should become a psychologist and find out. Heh.

“Well, really, it’s because there’s nothing else scheduled for the next few hours.”

I’m right about that, at least. The only events going on within the hour are this lecture about aliens and a private investors’ meeting trying to dredge up funds for an ‘underground research super-facility’ in the New Mexico desert. There's also a robotics demonstration by an 'H. Emerich' here in about 30 minutes, but it'll more than likely be packed.

Regardless of what the rest of the day may hold; it’s really given me some insight, at least to the point that I can narrow down some choices. The idea of becoming a research scientist is rather appealing, since I’d rather spend my time finding the answers to things that I accept as fact, but don’t understand why they’re factual.

In spite of that, I’m not quite sure as to what I’m going to do with my life just yet -- at least I understand that I should decide quickly, since I’ve only got another semester before I’m flung into the ‘real world.’ At this point I don't think it's even a matter of choosing where to go; I should be worried about how I'm going to get there in the first place.

At any rate; it’s not like I have other commitments. The only girl I’ve really found myself interested in over the past few weeks is of an unknown age, and probably too busy for anything like that in the first place.

I’ll focus on my future for now. Anything to get me away from this feeling like my life has stagnated.



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Last edited by Thanatos02 on Fri Oct 17, 2014 11:57 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route [Updated as of 10/23]

Post by Bagheera »

Glad to see you here, Thanatos. You don't know me from Adam, of course, but I've been a fan for awhile now.

With that out of the way, I think you're off to a good start here. I'm not convinced Akira would spill her guts quite so easily, nor that Hisao would be all that vexed about his future (he'd probably just focus heavily on entrance exams and worry about the particulars once he got into college), but even still I can see this fic going places. I just hope we're done with the chance encounters; the first was inspired, and the second believable, but the third . . . oi. Too many coincidences IMO. But that's a minor quibble. Keep on doin' what you're doin', 'cause it's good stuff!
Girls: Emi = Misha > Hanako > Lilly > Shizune = Rin
Routes: Rin = Shizune > Emi > Lilly = Hanako

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Thanatos02
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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route

Post by Thanatos02 »

demonix wrote:
Thanatos02 wrote:“So does my sister, and yet I've run into you more than I've seen here this week.” she answers.
I believe that should be her and not here (I've had a few issues with putting extra letters into a word, as well as hitting the caps lock key instead of a on the keyboard).
Will fix, thanks for pointing that out, man. 2-5 isn't up here anymore because I'm having to divide up the posts to keep em in line with 'regulation,' but it'll be edited when I put it back up.
Bagheera wrote:Glad to see you here, Thanatos. You don't know me from Adam, of course, but I've been a fan for awhile now.

With that out of the way, I think you're off to a good start here. I'm not convinced Akira would spill her guts quite so easily, nor that Hisao would be all that vexed about his future (he'd probably just focus heavily on entrance exams and worry about the particulars once he got into college), but even still I can see this fic going places. I just hope we're done with the chance encounters; the first was inspired, and the second believable, but the third . . . oi. Too many coincidences IMO. But that's a minor quibble. Keep on doin' what you're doin', 'cause it's good stuff!
I'd like to think it makes sense for Hisao to be running in and out of town all the time with all the things that have been happening, thus all the chance encounters, but I understand what you're saying. I'm trying to do this without invoking any plot devices or anything else requiring suspension of disbelief, but at this point that may be what it comes to. I'm glad you're still enjoying it, anyway.
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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route [Updated as of 10/23]

Post by Thanatos02 »

Alright 2-5 coming right up More Akira this time, which I'm sure is a relief for those who just read part 4.
10/23: I'm going to go ahead and cut the rant about her father out of here, and save it for later down the line when it's more relevant. It just feels like a major plot device instead of foreshadowing, for numerous reasons. Also did a lot of editing on at least 2/3 of the story.
10/27: Went over Akira's boyfriend and rewrote. I know it's a large part of the story at this point, but I'm still trying to get things concrete. It's just a change of character; his role down the line will still be the same.

Act 2 - Part 5-1: Great Expectations

The sound of running water bounces between the tiles of the shower droning out any noises that could possibly invade through the door. Everything that isn't less than a foot in front of me is obscured by clouds of steam.

But that all works out, because when I'm in the shower; outside world doesn't matter.

Unless Kenji winds up in here again. I locked the door to ensure that I'm guaranteed my private time; but it wouldn't surprise me if he knew how to pick the lock, or even if he had a set of keys he stole from the janitor.

Actually, the idea of him being able to access any room in the building is quite terrifying.

In fact, it's that ever-present worry that constantly has me on my toes when I'm in the bathroom. And it's not just here, more like anywhere, really. I've developed a fear any time I turn a corner: he's going to be there waiting. Adjusting his glasses, just waiting for a chance to level his newest conspiracy theory at me, or lure me into doing another mundane chore for him because he doesn't feel like leaving his room.

What's in there, anyway? A secret lab? A weapons cache? 'Anti-Feminist Mission Control' scrawled on a poster board and stapled to the wall?

Regardless of what it may be, it's one of the few things here that I have no interest in learning about. Kenji's business is Kenji's business and no amount of curiosity will ever push me over that fine line.

Speaking of curiosity; I still need to go shopping. Last time I went looking for a grocery store I got sidetracked and wound up having coffee with Akira at the Shanghai. Which was the second time I'd run into her within the past week, somehow.

She's Lilly's sister, so it's sensible that she would be here a lot; but the first time I met her was in the city, which had nothing to do with Yamaku at all. Pure dumb luck? Coincidence? What kind of a scientist would I have to be to find an explanation for that one?

At any rate; I don't have anything to do today besides read, and I'm not too into any of the books I grabbed from the library on...

What's the library's due-date policy? There weren't any signs explaining it, nor is there a date stamped on the card. Do I get the books for as long as I want? Does that even matter if I don't plan on finishing any of them?

No, none of that matters right now. Shopping matters right now.

I finish toweling off before throwing on my clothes in habitual order; plaid boxers, blue jeans, gray shirt. Following that, I commence my twice-daily ritual of choking down over a dozen pills. A pair of socks and shoes are pulled onto my feet afterward, and I'm ready to leave.

Phone, wallet, keys. Door locked in case a certain someone decides to load up my room with tracking devices. And that's it, I'm ready to go.

It only takes a few minutes to put the wrought iron gates of Yamaku behind me, my ears soon filled by a steady tempo of rubber soles patting against concrete.

I wonder if the school runs some sort of shuttle service. Does the town below get enough traffic to warrant such a thing? Do the more movement-impaired students just get their able-bodied friends to run errands?

Maybe the more daring ones have wheelchair races down the hills. I'll bet there's some kind of disabled underworld racing ring. Or would that be wheelchair-luge?

On that note, when is Kenji going to pay me back for that stupid pizza? He asked me to pick up some milk for him, but I don't see why he'd put off on paying me back for so long. It's been over a week n-

No. You know what? I'm not going to to think today. Too much thinking, then I start overthinking, then I start questioning stupid things like whether or not I'm in a dream. Or hell, what if I went into a coma when I had that heart attack, and what I'm seeing is just-

ARGH.

Nothing. No thoughts.



Step.

Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat.

Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

Inhale. Exhale.

Blink.

Step step s-

Yeah, no, I think I'll go back to what I was doing. Or, at least, I'll go back to it when I'm done here, since I'm already in town.

There's the art store, and the music store, and the Shanghai. Last time; I stopped at the cafe here to take a break, and then wound up getting side-tracked. This time, I'm just going to walk past it; no coffee, no sandwiches, no...whatever else they serve there.

My feet carry me past the tempting double-doors of the little restaurant and around the corner, revealing a row of shops that...

“Aura Mart.”

It was here the entire time?!

There's been no groceries in my room for a week because my brain couldn't remember where the damned grocery store was. Because I couldn't remember to take one single turn! Even a blind girl could make it here on her own!

I can stay up until three in the morning thinking about what I'm going to do with my future but I can't remember how to get to a convenience store. Somehow, I'm going to wind up thinking myself to death.

At any rate, I can feel stupid while I'm shopping.

Inside is the same convenience store I passed through with Lilly during my first week here. At least I can remember the placement of the things I need.

Bread
Laundry detergent
Dryer sheets
Bottled Water



I don't really need that much stuff, do I?

It only takes a few minutes to grab all of the things I need, choosing to load them up under my arm rather than go looking for a basket. There isn't a soul in here besides the cashier, so I march up to the checkout line and...

Before I can advance any further, I notice a figure creeping along the edge of the store, worming his way across the ground. School uniform with a red and yellow scarf, capped off by a mound of messy black hair. There's a green bandana wrapped around his head as well.

He wiggles along the ground, moving inches at a time. It takes a total of at least three minutes for him to get up to the counter, where he reaches up and places his items in front of the cashier. The stack includes a box of cereal, a loaf of bread, some chap stick, aluminum foil, toilet cleaner, and...

That little asshole!

There he goes, sliding a liter of milk onto the counter! Why the hell would he ask me to get it for him if he's just going to come down here and do it himself?! Now he has no reason to not pay me back, other than just being a deadbeat.

The exact change follows the items, with Kenji stroking some sort of invisible beard as he waits for the clerk to ring up the groceries. The girl behind the register seems to be a veteran of these antics, however, as she bags the items and stuffs the receipt in with them, pushing it across the surface until it drops onto Kenji's head.

A faux-growl escapes his throat as he army-crawls his way back out of the store, those glass-veiled eyes darting back and forth as if to make sure the coast is clear. Upon spotting me, he tosses a crumpled up piece of yellow notebook paper at my feet with surprising accuracy. Content that all of his objectives have been met; he hops up to his feet and does a rolling somersault out the door.

Unable to resist the air of curiosity surrounding the paper; I pick it up and unfold it, which reveals nothing other than the word 'Honeymuffin.'

Okay, that is the most over-the-top thing I've seen all year. What is it? Some kind of code phrase? Password? Whatever it is; it satisfies my daily dose of crazy. No more for me today, Doc Kenji; I'm set.

I let the note drop into a trashcan and step up to the counter, where the cashier greets me with a smile. My things are dropped in front of the clerk, rung up, and bagged without any conversation and without any urge to ask how often Kenji comes here. A 'thank you, have a nice day' follows behind me as I grab my items and step out the door, a gentle summer breeze welcoming me outside.

Finally got that business cleared out of the way. Now, to go home and finish that mountain of homework I've been procrastinating on.

“Oh, hey, what's up?” a voice behind me calls out.

Let me correct that last statement – the mountain of homework I'll be procrastinating on for a little bit longer.

The voice isn't deep enough to be Kenji. Not feminine or loud enough to be Misha. Not proper enough to be Lilly. The fact that there's a voice at all means it isn't Shizune. With those possibilities eliminated, there's really only one person it could be...

“Hello, Akira.” I turn around and respond.

The blonde-haired, pinstripe suit-clad figure rests on a bench beside the sidewalk, one which I somehow managed to walk past without noticing. One hand lays on the back of the seat while the other bears a silver can of some beverage or another. The logo would imply that it's beer, but... beer at two in the afternoon? In the park no less?

I'm not entirely sure of what to think about that.

“I'm running into you all over the place lately.” the blonde-haired woman comments before taking a sip out of the metallic cylinder.

Yeah, I'm noticing that too. First at a suit shop; that's all well and good. Then at the Shanghai; she does have a sister here, and she always stops by for the good coffee – it's just a coincidental encounter. Now here we are at #3.

Can I really say it's anything other than a coincidence? I mean, honestly, what are the alternatives? She's stalking me to make sure I'm not going after her sister?

“Well I do go to school here, you know?” I respond with a chuckle, shaking the thoughts from my head.

“True, but my sister goes here as well and yet over this past week; I've seen you more than her.” she answers.

“Do you not see Lilly very much?”

“I try to make it at least once every couple of weeks. There's been 'plans' going on so I've been coming up a lot more often, though.”

She lets out a sigh and gazes off into the distance, eyes filled with conflicting thoughts. A few more sips of the caramel liquid pour in between her lips, followed by a groan as she realizes that she's already depleted the can of liquid pleasure.

“So, what brings you here, then?” I ask.

“Visiting Lilly, actually. Had some things to talk about.” she answers. “Also had to run some errands.” she adds on before pointing to a pile of grocery sacks next to the bench, all of the same style as the ones I carry in my hand.

Her eye analyzes the opening of the container from numerous angles before swirling it around, making sure its contents are depleted. Disappointed by the fact that the silver can is empty; she crumples it up and tosses it at a nearby trash receptacle.

It glances off the edge and gives an inconsequential 'clunk' as it bounces against the concrete and joins a pile of other cans, all of the same label.

She eyeballs the stack of discarded containers for a bit, contemplating whether or not she should be a 'responsible adult' and go to pick it up. This decision edges back and forth before she ultimately dismisses the small mound of aluminum from her mind.

“Something wrong?” I ask.

“Nah, nothing.”

“Really? You seem kind of beat.”

“Nothing worth bothering you about. I can solve my own problems.” she answers with a half-smile.

Well, she's an adult; of course she can solve her own problems. But six months in the hospital with little to no visitors has made me appreciate how valuable it is to have someone to talk to -- granted, I've come to accept that my problem isn't worth telling many people about. Situations like this aren't exactly my strongest point, but even I can see that she's bottling something up.

“Well I wouldn't jump to conclusions so fast, I know how nice it is to have someone to talk to.”

She looks me up and down, as if doubting my hospitality.

“I've only known you for a week; but I'd like to help if I can. I could at least say I've done something with my life since I got here.” I answer.

I really can't help myself. Here's a woman I've talked for a total of about thirty minutes in my entire life, and yet I'm offering to come to her aid. There's something inside me that wants to help her, but I don't know what it is or why it's pushing me into potentially embarrassing situations.
Last edited by Thanatos02 on Wed Oct 31, 2012 11:44 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route [Updated as of 10/23]

Post by Thanatos02 »

Act 2 - Part 5-2: Great Expectations

“Whoa there, relax.”

Her eyes shut and she tilts her head back and forth, popping her neck as she debates in her head whether to waste her time with someone like me. Words stir around in her mouth as she tries to think of the proper response; be it a denial or an affirmation.

“Alright, you win.”

She scoots over and pats the seat beside her before leaning back and crossing her legs, gazing up at the afternoon sky. I take the offer and slide in beside her, leaving the bag of groceries beside the bench.

“So, what's up?” I ask, unsure of how else to start.

I've never really tried to help people out like this and the fact that I'm doing it now is a mystery even to me. There's just something about her that draws me in, and I feel like I'd be deceiving myself if I tried to stand against that.

“Well, where do I even begin? Relationship troubles?” she replies, wracking her brain as if to sort out her thoughts.

At least I was right about her being taken.

“Things not working out?” I ask.

“Story of my love life.” she retorts, letting out a laugh. “Let's just say I often find myself in mismatched company.”

So she might not be taken for much longer. Call it shameless, but my heart can't help but tick with fervor at that notion.

“Better than getting hopeful and having it crushed before you.” I respond, unable to hide the bitterness in my tone.

“Can't deny that. But you know what they say; better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, right?” the woman beside me answers.

“Depends on how you lost them, if you ask me.” I reply. “But we're not here to listen to my problems, what's on your mind?”

“No point in beating around the bush if you're going to be that forward.” she starts, leaning back against the bench and crossing her legs. “He never stops arguing. Anything is a starting point with this man, whether it be TV shows, clothing brands, music-”

“Ohoho, music.” she says with biting emphasis. “When they say opposites attract, they don't mean it between different musical tastes. I respect his love of hip-hop, but that doesn't mean I have to like the stuff.”

She drones on from subject to subject in one fluid, run-on sentence, as if the list of things this man has subjected her to is never-ending.

“He refuses to go out of the house to do anything, he's always prattling on and on about all sorts of things he knows I can't stand. I mean, seriously, I love that he drives a motorcycle, but he's never going to get into a biker gang; we don't do stuff like that here.”

“You aren't in high school anymore, damnit!” she yells at the open air, calling upon a few confused stares from the other people in the park.

“So why are you...uh...”

“Why am I dating him?” she stops and thinks for a bit, mulling over what must be a multitude of reasons or excuses before settling on “simple, because looks are deceiving and I'm a sucker for a man in a suit.”

“When I met him, he was a real swooner. I'm talking Armani suit, slicked-back hair, watch on a chain, all those things that get a girl going nuts. He had everything in order, and that's what really drew me in, I guess. Stable job, close to his family, active in the community, that sort of thing.”

I have to agree on the 'looks are deceiving' part. That sounds just a little too ideal, if you ask me.

“But that's all there was to him. He played up this big 'mysterious' act in public that he didn't have anything to back up. I'm not going to say he's shallow as a person, but it's a little unnerving that I don't know anything more about him now than I did six months ago.”

“Really? You haven't learned anything new about your boyfriend in six months?” I ask.

“Yeah, that's exactly it. It's the same story about work every day, the same explanation for his love of motorcycles, the same quotes from the same movies and comedy acts, the same arguments over the must mundane things day in and day out...”

“I just want someone a little more... dynamic, if that's a good word for it.” she adds on.

She tilts her head back and stares up at the sky, eyes heavy with fatigue. It would seem that she's getting a little more choosy with her words now, like the brunt of what she's saying about her own boyfriend is beginning to nag at her.

“I think I can understand what you mean. It's human to learn and change, so I guess it would be weird meeting someone who's always the exact same person, so to speak.” I ask.

“I wouldn't say that; he has changed a bit. He's gotten a bit more forceful over the past few months.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is just an example: I don't hate him for it, but he's a teetotaler; you know, the sort that hates alcohol and can't stand the stuff.” she starts.

I nod my head in acknowledgment.

“Well, I think I have a bit of a right to get frustrated when he assumes I've been out drinking whenever I come home from work. I mean, seriously, I haven't been to a bar in three weeks because of that man.”

“'Are you at the bar again, Akira?' 'What's your poison tonight, Akira?' 'Why do you lock your cabinets whenever I come over, Akira?'” she comments in a nasally voice, as if mocking past experiences. “But that's not the main point. Basically, he's getting into this habit of trying to influence things I do, or keep me from the things I like.”

“The worst case so far is when he tried to keep me from visiting Lilly because he wanted us to go to a re-screening of some movie from the 90s.”

She shakes her head back and forth mid-statement, trying to throw what must be a volatile thought from her mind.

“It's just... things aren't working out. It doesn't help that I look at all my friends and co-workers and see their relationships falling apart. I want to work it out, but it just seems like there's no hope.” she comments.

[x] I think you could still pull through.
[ ] You’re right, it would be better to break it off.

“Well, I can’t say I know much about relationships, but the way I see it; you’ve made it this far already, why stop now?” I retort.

As much as I want to tell her to just cut it off and avoid any more trouble; relationships don’t just work out – they take effort and understanding. It’s sensible to stop if you don’t feel anything for the other person, but I can tell that Akira cares for this guy, even if she has nothing but bad things to say about him.

Otherwise, why would she have stuck with him for so long?

“If I've made it this far, why keep going?” Akira counters.

“Are you really at the point where you can’t even stand him anymore?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just…”

The girl next to me slumps forward as an exasperated sigh steams out from between her lips.

“I feel like I’m stuck.” she concludes. “Yeah, we could work at it and make some resolutions, and agree to do less of the things we each hate; but what would be the point? You can’t change the way people are, and I've developed quite a few problems with who he is over the past year.”

“Do you like him?” I ask again.

“Yes and no. There’s parts of him I like, and then there’s parts of him I can’t bear. The issue here is that the more time I spend with him, the more the parts of him I hate stand out.”

“I think your best bet is to talk to him about it. Do you tell him that he does things you don’t like?”

“Ah, well… no.” she admits.

I can't say she's in the wrong there. I'd be a total hypocrite if I bashed her for trying to go with the flow and waiting for things to clear up on their own.

“Well there’s your problem. Most of the time when I hear about couples failing: it’s because they don’t talk to one another, or they refuse to point out the others’ flaws. I’m sure he would stop doing whatever it is you hate so much if you just, you know, told him to stop.”

Her expression straightens out as she heads into thought once more, probably stopping for a second to wonder why she’s talking about this with on a park bench with a high schooler.

“He's not the type to talk things out, but you could be right. It’s something to try, anyway.” she responds.

She sits up and checks her watch before letting out another sigh; tired of talking, as it would seem.

“But enough about that. As much as I wish it could; whining isn't going to solve the problem. Especially not when I'm doing it to a guy I've known for less than a week.” she says with a laugh.

“It's nice to have someone to vent to though, right?”

“Better than keeping it all in, anyway.” she admits.

“That's what I'm here for.” I reply with an amount of confidence I forgot I even had. “Is there anything else wrong? Or is it just boyfriend troubles?”

“Naaah, that's all the bitching you'll get out of me today.” she counters, flashing a wry smirk.

“Aw, dang.” I return, causing both of us to laugh.

“Honestly, there's nothing else worth talking about. Nothing that hasn't always been a problem, anyway.” she comments.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Let's just say the life after school ain't all it's cracked up to be.” she comments, before adding on “the freedom is pretty great though, can’t complain about that.” with a smile.

With that she raises her arms to the sky in a stretch, back arched as a long moan escapes her throat.

“So, how much do you and Lilly talk?” she asks, switching subjects.

“Not a lot, really. I've had tea with her a couple of times, but we're just acquaintances.”

The stray locks of blonde hair on her head sway back and forth as she nods.

“Don't go telling Lilly about my little relationship problem.” she states.

That notion makes me jerk my head over in confusion, a dumbfounded 'huh?!' escaping my mouth.

“She's got enough problems as it is going on in the background, I don't need to go nagging her with my issues too.” she replies.

“Wait wait wait, so you're telling me things that you don't even talk about with your own family?”

“Yeah, pretty much. What? Is that weird?”

“I don't know, really. To be honest, even though my opinion doesn't count for much; I still think you'd have a more productive discussion with your own sister than you would with me.” I reply, laughing.

“You've got a point, but that girl tries to avoid conflict, and I don't want to be the one pushing it to her doorstep.” she notes.

Why would she tell me these things? I wouldn't have pushed if she has just told me she didn't want to talk. Does she want to get it out into the open that badly? How long would it have been before she went to Lilly, or hell, where are her parents? Independence doesn't mean you shouldn't call your parents for advice.

Does that mean she trusts me? Or maybe there were a few other cans before that one and the alcohol is getting to her; it's cynical to say, but I'm sure she'd go rambling to anyone at that point.

Too many questions and no answers in sight. Either way, it's none of my business.

“Fine, I understand. I can keep a secret.”

“Good man.” she says, switching back to a more joyful expression.

I've only known her a short while and I'm already certain that that's a face I want to see more of. She's got a lead on me in terms of age and maturity, but I'd be lying if I said she didn't still have a cute smile.

Akira stands up and brushes the dust off of her slacks. Then begins adjusting the sleeves of her suit jacket, correcting her tie, and following through an entire string of other habits she's developed to look as sharp as she can at all times.

“You know, Hisao. You're a really nice guy, and that's a quality you don't see a whole lot of once you get to my age.” she comments. “It's not worth a whole lot in this world we live in, but at least I appreciate it.”

“Just being nice won't get me anywhere.” I return, not even bothering to hide my dismissive attitude.

“I wouldn't be so sure.” she says with a smile before checking her watch. “I'm gonna go ahead and get home now. Gotta get some things in order.”

“Alright, don't let me hold you back.” I reply with a chuckle.

“Got a couple of phone calls to make as well.” she mentions, glancing up at the sky.

“Take it easy, Hisao.” she calls back before walking off, one hand in her pocket and the other raised in a wave.

“I'll see you around, Akira.”

It doesn't take long for her to disappear from sight, leaving the image of her back imprinted into my mind.

Disheveled blonde hair swaying in the wind, a pair of lean shoulders, a thin waist visible even through her suit coat, widening out into modest hips, all curving down into a set of long, slender legs.

That is the image of a woman if I've ever seen one.

There's a couple of things lingering in my mind however; like how she thought she was stuck.

How is she stuck? Does she mean she's stuck working when she'd like to be traveling, spending time with Lilly, or something else? Or is it that she feels she's unable to move forward anymore? Locked down at one place in life without anything good in the foreseeable future?

She’s having some boyfriend troubles, so I can see how she'd be feeling some stress. But she still has a job; she's doing something with her life. I'm not in a relationship and I barely know where I'm going; I feel like I'm not moving anywhere. I understand that I want to be a scientist, but I don't know where I'll go to do that, or how I'll even do it once I'm there.

We're the same, somehow. She's not the answer to any of my problems, and yet I feel a connection. Pursuit isn't really an option, but I want to know more about her; why she does what she does, how she got there, where she wants to go next, everything.

At any rate, I need to be getting back home as well. I'm ¥1,000 short and I'm gonna need it if I want to make it for the rest of the week.



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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route [Updated as of 10/23]

Post by Thanatos02 »

Act 2 - Part 6-1: Public Relations

The sound of chalk tapping drones on as Mutou layers diagram upon diagram on the blackboard, embellishing each drawing with a series of formulas and calculations that boggle the mind. We’ve learned about most of these, but a good few of the other equations are unknown, even to people who've read ahead in the book.

“This is going to be on your final, so make sure you’re taking good notes.” he calls out to a room of sleeping or otherwise disengaged students.

The man in the brown duster dances back and forth from either end of the chalkboard, pointing to each crude drawing as he reads out of a textbook. At this point he’s pacing so fast that he doesn’t even bother to wake up any of the less focused pupils.

In fact, we’ve been speeding through lesson after lesson all week. I’m not sure if we’re behind or if Mutou is just more motivated after the symposium on Saturday, but we’ve definitely been on the afterburner for the past few days.

At least I'm finally starting to settle into my schedule. The days are beginning to blend together, with no indication of whether or not it’s Monday or Friday without first checking a calendar. My social abilities could still use some work, however. I haven't gotten out much aside from the occasional greeting in the hallway and the exposure to Kenji’s ranting.

There is a difference though. I feel confident for some reason. I don’t know if it’s because of the science festival, or because of the conversation I had with Akira in the park, but I feel much more energized as of late.

And that liveliness is only bolstered by the sound of the lunch bell ringing, cutting Mutou off mid-sentence.

He quickly recovers to deliver a few closing statements, however. Including a reminder that ‘exams are in just a few weeks and that we should be responsible students and remember to study.’

The sound of chair legs scraping against tile fills the room as students venture out in search of lunch. Belongings are shoveled into bags and bags are thrown across shoulders, each leaving the room in sequence.

All except one girl in the back row, who remains stationary. Dark hair combed over one eye, with what looks like scarred flesh covering her right hand. Rather than leave with the rest of the lunch crowd, she elects to camp out in her chair with a novel in hand.

I think I met her in the library once. Hanako Ikezawa, was it? She comes off as rather easy-to-scare, so it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to try talking to her; even if I like the book she’s reading.

So, lunchtime. Will I be going to the overcrowded cafeteria, or would the vending machines be a better option today?

Either way, there's a girl standing in the doorway. However, her appearance happens to be more familiar, in more ways than one. Golden-blonde hair, above-average height, and a pair of wide, deep eyes. I can’t believe there was any doubt in my mind that they were related.

“Good afternoon, Lilly.”

The dark-haired girl jumps in her seat as I call out, eyes jerking from me to the girl standing in the front doorway.

“Ah, is that you, Hisao?”

“Yeah, how are you doing?”

“I’m quite alright, thank you for asking. Is Hanako here?”

Before I can answer, the dark-haired girl sets her book down and stands up, slinging her book bag over one shoulder.

“R-Right here…” she replies.

“Are you ready to go?” Lilly asks.

“Y-yeah.”

She steps up and places her fingers on Lilly’s shoulder, novel in other hand. At this, Lilly and Hanako walk toward the door side-by-side.

Before I can even restrain myself or think the consequences of such a question out, I find my mouth opening and the words “would you mind if I joined you two for lunch?” spilling out.

Hanako’s eyes jerk between Lilly and I in a mixture of curiosity and anxiety, like a scared rabbit. I’m not sure if I should intrude on what must be their private time, but…

“Ah, we'd love to have you.”

It just can't be helped. I've got to stop being antisocial some day, right? Not like the cafeteria and vending machines were viable options, anyway.

I pack up my own things and follow behind them, winding up at the same vacant classroom on the second floor Lilly and I used last week. And the week before that, now that I think about it.

Once inside; all of our bags are placed beside the table in neat order. Hanako takes the seat next to the window and cracks her novel open, which siphons her attention away from the outside world. Lilly begins to prepare lunch, setting out a stack of plates and that same white tea set.

“Hisao, you and Hanako haven’t met, have you?”

“Not formally, no.” I answer, unable to hide my embarrassment as I remember the 'incident' from my first week here.

“Well, Hisao, this is Hanako. And Hanako, this is Hisao.” Lilly announces as she sorts through a box of what must be at least ten different varieties of tea.

Hanako gives a cautious wave, which I return in the same manner; both of us unsure of how to proceed. I decide to sit opposite her, diverting my eyes to the scene outside.

Was it really that easy? Or is it because it's her friend doing the introducing, rather than some guy she had only known for a day? Either way; I've never really 'met' her outside that one time in the library. Ever since then I've just sort of avoided the chance, since I'd have no idea as to how to go about talking to her.

“So, Hanako, how was class today?” Lilly asks.

“Ah, it was… okay.” Hanako answers.

“Did anything happen?”

“N-Nothing much…”

Well, there was that time where she had to duck out of the middle of class. It was only for about an hour, though, and even if she did disappear entirely; what she does is her business, I’m sure there’s a reason for it somewhere.

“How about you, Hisao? Settled in yet?”

“I’m getting into the pace of things. No problems in class, as of yet.”

“It just takes a little time, I’m glad to hear you’re up to speed.” she replies, placing a pot of tea on the table between us. Hanako takes the cue and begins pouring the cinnamon-colored liquid into each cup, somehow able to keep it steady despite the rest of her figure shaking with anxiety.

This time, rather than letting such graceful preparations go to waste; I grab the cup and raise it to my lips, letting the drink flow into my-

“AHHHH HOT HOT HOT.”

Lilly and Hanako both jump with surprise at my outburst. The white teapot drops to the table with a 'clank' and, thankfully, does not shatter despite the fact that the person holding it nearly flipped out of her chair.

“Hisao! Are you okay?” she asks.

“Ah’m oghay.” I reply, fanning my tongue.

Despite my nervous attempts to laugh it off, I’m still left with blood rushing to my head and an overwhelming sense of guilt for injecting such excitement into their lives. Hanako appears to settle down as soon as Lilly takes a seat next to her, even though her eyes still swirl with paranoia as she looks between me and her book.

“So, did you ever find the Akira you were looking for?” Lilly asks as she slides into her chair.

“I did, actually. Turns out she was your sister – I actually feel dumb for not drawing the connection earlier.”

“We aren’t that similar, if that's what you mean.” she responds, giggling. “Did you two get along?”

“Yeah, I actually ran into her in the park yesterday. We talked for a while.” I respond.

I’m forbidden to speak of WHAT we talked about, but the fact that we talked should be enough to answer her question. It does provide some conversation for once; something I'm always at a loss to participate in because my life isn't worth talking about.

Hanako returns to her reading in the midst of our conversation, content to let the day’s events play out without giving or receiving any input.

“It’s nice to hear that you’re making other friends. I should warn you that she has a boyfriend, however.” Lilly answers with a playful tone.

A boyfriend that annoys her to no end, if yesterday’s chat was anything to go by. Even still; it has anything to do with me. I mean, she’s a beautiful woman, and as much as I’d hate to prove Freud right; I wouldn’t mind spending more time with her.

Of course, that begs the question as to how two people like us would even wind up together in the first place, considering the age gap among other things, like her current relationship status.

“Oh, dang.”

“My my, you almost sound disappointed.” she returns with a giggle.

“Not quite. She's got to be at least a couple of years older than me.” I retort. It's a lie, of course; I'm more attracted to her than I'd like to be, but what would Lilly think if her eighteen year-old classmate felt something for her older sister?

“She's twenty-four, actually, with a birthday coming up quite soon.

“Really? She's up in big business at that age?”

“Not quite big business, Hisao. She's in corporate law – human resources management, if I remember correctly.” she answers with a degree of pride.

Human resources management? Aren't they essentially a discipline crew? Keeping everyone in line and working?

“Huh, she doesn't seem like the rule-oriented type in the least.” I respond.

Lilly and Hanako both let out a small giggle. I'll take it they're in agreement with that notion, then.

“She really isn't, but that doesn't stop her from being good at what she does.” Lilly answers.

“Yeah, even I can tell. Is she ever not working? I've never seen her in anything but a suit.” I comment.

“She certainly works quite a bit. Too much, if you ask me.” Lilly returns.

>[ ] Switch to something else
>[x] Inquire further
>[ ] Ask about Hanako

“What makes you say that?”

“Even when she first started out, she was at work from eight in the morning to five in the afternoon. Sometimes it would be longer, and she wouldn't even come home for dinner. At one point she working well over sixty hours a week.” she starts.

“Some people just love their jobs. I know my parents were the same way.” I comment.

“Akira likes her position, but I wouldn't say she works so much because of that. There was a time when it was just my sister and I, and she had to work to get us both to the end of the month. However, she also had to take care of her studies.”

“That is downright ridiculous. Sixty hours of work a week plus studies?! I can barely make it through forty hours of school alone most of the time.” I mention, unable to keep my jaw from dropping.

My comment gets a chuckle out of both Lilly and Hanako.

“How did she do that? Just cope on six hours of sleep a night?

“Akira is a strong girl – she always has been.” Lilly replies, as if that answers the entire question. Or maybe she doesn't feel like delving deeper into details; all things considered, that must have been a both time for both of them.

“Does she at least get time off?”

“Saturday has always a good day to her.” Lilly says with a smile. “Originally she was swamped twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. This went on for about a year until she put her foot down and secured Saturday for herself, and she's kept that schedule ever since.”

One day out of the week for herself. Only one day – everything else is swallowed up by work, school or other responsibilities. I would hope she's strong, since I can't imagine someone who isn't fortified making it through something like that.

At any rate, I guess that explains why Lilly has such a mature air around her. I'm sure she became independent rather quickly, living with arrangements like that.

But still, it's strange. I've met Akira on three separate occasions, and not one of those has been on a Saturday. Has every one of those times been when she was on break from her job? And if so, why wouldn't she take the entire time to visit her sister?

“Her working hours have gotten a little more lenient ever since she graduated, however. She gets plenty of breaks now, and she doesn't mind... abusing the privilege.” Lilly continues with an idle giggle.

“So Akira comes by here a whole lot, then?” I ask.

“Not quite. Sometimes it's more, sometimes it's less, but usually it's around once every few weeks.” Lilly replies.

Before I can offer any commentary, the blonde-haired girl sitting across from me mentions “ah, Hisao, your tea must be getting cold.”

Wait, what?

She's right, I haven't taken a sip out of the dainty teacup ever since I roasted my tongue with its contents – however, saying something like that is suspicious no matter how you look at it. Why would she change the subject all of a sudden, when all my other questions were answered with pride?

Hanako glances between Lilly and I, a look of confusion in her eye as she herself wonders why Lilly steered away so quickly.

Ah, I get it.

Akira said a friend's birthday is coming up. If it's going to be a surprise, then Lilly wouldn't want to mention her coming over so much. If it's Hanako's special day soon, then that would explain everything.

And if it isn't the dark-haired girl's birthday coming up then... I don't know. I think it's a solid guess, though.

I'm not even given a chance to go along with the new direction the conversation has taken before the end of lunch is signaled, indicated by the sound of a loud ringing bleeding through every nook and cranny of the school’s architecture.

Lunch felt short today, for some reason. Which is a shame, since the only thing I’ve had to eat today is some week-old instant ramen I found behind the cabinet. It's also disappointing since I'm sure Lilly had a lot more to say about her sister. Even I can tell that Lilly has a lot of pride for her sister; and I could say the same for Akira, considering how protective she appears to be.

****************************

The rest of class passes without incident, as does most of the free time that follows. Beige fills my vision as I lay back and relax on the bed, content to take the rest of the day off thanks to the stack of completed homework on my desk.

After those twelve pills, my throat could use a little rest as well. There are some things that take a little longer to get used to.

However, there is still one task that needs to be completed.

I hop out of bed and march across the hall with purpose, rapping on the door a couple of times.

No response.

I knock a few more times and take a step back, ready for the door to burst open and a green-suited maniac to jump out at me.

Still nothing.

So it’s come to this; eh, Kenji?
Last edited by Thanatos02 on Sun Oct 28, 2012 9:12 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route [Updated as of 10/23]

Post by Thanatos02 »

With this, the KS forums are up to date, and with properly sized posts. Now to start working on 2-7.

Act 2 - Part 6-2: Public Relations

I take another step back, bracing myself against my own door before announcing “honeymuffin” at the opposite end of the hall.

Within seconds, about a dozen different tumblers and bolts are undone, with the door practically being ripped off of its hinges as Kenji bursts out. He’s dressed up in some sort of Buddhist’s meditation uniform with a sock puppet on one hand. The other holds a barbie doll wrapped in duct tape and punctured by a couple of sewing pins.

“Who called for me?” he asks.

The scene before me is so over-the-top that I almost feel like just letting him slide with it.

Almost.

“I did.” I reply.

“Hisao?! How did you find out about the pact?”

“The pact? The pact for what?”

“I dunno, pact was the best word I could come up with at the time. But really, how did you find out?”

“You threw a crumpled up piece of notebook paper at me at the grocery store with the password.”

“Password? Yeah, that’s better. And what do you mean? I only distribute invitations to the most capable femenace fighters.”

What are the criteria for that? Was standing around with a bunch of groceries under my arm indicative of someone who is good at coming up with crackpot theories and snake-crawling through public marketplaces?

“You threw a paper ball at me at the Aura mart. Does that count as distributing?” I respond.

Kenji thinks for a moment, pacing back and forth without any attention to the fact that he's dressed up like a maniac.

“Perhaps.” he answers, without actually answering anything.

“Okay, well, anyway, when are you going to pay me back for that pizza from a few weeks ago?”

“Oh, that, yeah.”

This time, rather than presenting a bunch of nonsense arguments and beating around the bush long enough to escape into his lair; he produces a wallet from god-knows-where and pulls a crisp ¥1000 note out, holding it out for me.

“I had some stuff to take care of, sorry it took so long, man.”

That's it? No fighting, no arguing, no nonsense?

“Alright, that works. You bought some milk when I saw you at the grocery store, so is it safe to assume you don't need it anymore?” I comment as I pull the note from his fingers and stuff it into my pocket, unsure of what to think.

At this, he jerks back.

“What? Seriously? Man, I wouldn't have gone through the trouble of carrying it home if I knew you had my back on that.” he yells in retort.

“So why didn't you leave it behind when you saw me in town?”

“I didn't see you in town.” Kenji counters with a raised eyebrow.

I can already see this going full circle.

“Okay, you didn't see me in town. I found the password on the ground. I guess the guy you intended to invite was already on undercover operations.” I comment, trying to flip the conversation around.

“It's a distinct possibility – but still, that note was intended for him. You shouldn't have taken it.”

“Why not? I'm not good enough to fight the feminist conspiracy?”

“No, Hisao, you're already in on it! It's just you and me right now though, man. We need to recruit more. Two men can't take down the system.”

“We can't?”

“Dude, this is real life. Stuff like pretending to be exterminators to get past security and then blowing up their base from the inside only works in the movies.” Kenji retorts.

“Not as exterminators, no, but I don't think it would be too hard to pose as sympathizers; maybe journalists who want an interview with the head honcho. What do you suggest, then?”

“This is hard to explain without my charts, man. First, we need to seduce some of the lower-tier agents so they're willing to give up their contacts – you know, so we can get access to the higher-ups.”

“That seems like a lot of work for phone numbers. Why don't you just sneak in, steal the information off their phone, and work from there?”

“Theft is a deplorable act, Hisao. I operate under a code of honor.” he starts.

“It's a shame others don't share in this mindset. I had a whole package of ramen in the cabinet, but some assholes decided to help themselves. I left it there for a day and yet there was only one cup left. So I hid the last one behind the cabinet, for later.”

“And what do you know, I go back today and it turns out some jackass actually searched around and took it. I worked my ass off to get the money for that stuff; is a man not entitled to the cheap flavor of his instant ramen? Who the hell would do something like that?”

Someone who looked behind the cabinet and saw a cup of week-old dry soup and figured that someone had forgotten about it? I mean, I-they should have thought about it a little harder, but you can't blame them for not assuming that it was hidden.

“I dunno, man.”

“It's a doggy dog world we live in, Hisao. That's why I don't leave my food in the kitchen anymore.”

“Anymore? But you were just talking about someone stealing your food – just today, even.”

“I won't leave my food in there anymore as of three hours ago, then.” he concludes.

“Who do you think stole it?” I ask.

“Psh, it doesn't matter. In my eyes, all of the men here are equally guilty – those who stole, and those who failed to report the theft. It is the duty of the people to uphold justice, liberty, and the American way.”

“We live in Japan, Kenji.”

“Then we have to uphold the Japanese way.”

“What's the Japanese way? Hang out in maid cafes and watch crazy gameshows?”

“What? No. I dunno, dude. All I know is that I'm not putting my damned ramen down there anymore, too many vultures.”

Before I can reply, he continues on with “and maid cafes are feminist indoctrination facilities.”

Wait wait wait. Most of the people who go into maid cafes have already disregarded women as a whole. How would their minds make the shift to feminism?

“But whatever. There will be more time for that... in time. Hey, can I ask you for something?”

“That depends. Am I going to receive just and timely compensation for my labor?”

“Man, I haven't even asked you to do anything yet. And technically you owe me for not reporting the heinous food-theft I've been subjected to.”

“Why would I need to report it? You already-”

No. I'm getting pulled into his antics – at least, not anymore than I've already been trapped in.

“Anyway, what did you need?”

“I've got something in the mail that came in yesterday. The tracker says it's in the city, though."

“...Okay? What does that have to do with me?”

“I need you to go get it for me, man.”

“What?! You can get your own mail. I saw you in the grocery store the other day, it's the same concept.”

“Are you crazy? Post offices are feminist indoctrination facilities. I can't show my face there! It'll only be a matter of time before I get locked up in some kind of FEMA camp.”

“What? FEMA is an American thing, what could they possibly do over here? And besides, what would they even have to do with feminism?”

“Oh really, Hisao? Do you even know what FEMA stands for?”

“Something to do with emergency response, I think.”

“What? No! C'mon man, I thought you were smarter than this!”

“Alright, so what does FEMA stand for then, Kenji?”

“Feminist Ensnarement of Men and Animals! They won't stop at just men, they have to go out and capture any male animals too.”

“Okay, so, let me get this straight... You want me to go get your mail, because you think the post office workers are going to turn you in to the feminist overlords?”

“Nah, man, the post office workers aren't in on it. They're on a need-to-know basis.”

What.

“Can you just explain one more time why I'm the one that has to get your mail? It takes maybe thirty minutes to get into the city by bus.”

“Because if I get it sent to the school, then it has to go through the student council. I don't want those student council witches looking through my mail – you know they do that, right? They check through mail to make sure there's no anti-feminist propaganda being spread around. I bet they keep all the good stuff for themselves.”

Does the student council really have the power to search through mail? I thought they just had to deliver it. I suppose the possibility is there, but are they really so crooked as to intrude on someone else's privacy?

“Okay, that's all well and good, but why ME?”

“You're the only one I can trust, man. I may be the last sane man, but you're, like, the last sane sidekick. In a few years when they make comic books and movies of my noble cause, you'll get royalties.”

I've had enough here. I don't know what else there is to do, but anything is better than sitting through this nonsense for much longer.

“Okay, so, all I have to do is pick up your mail?”

“Would you kindly?” he asks, assuming a cordial smile in an instant.

“Sure thing, man.” I reply, using every ounce of fortitude in my body to push that sentence out of my mouth.

Without another word, he shuffles back into his room, the same series of bolts and locks tapping against the wooden frame as soon as the door closes. Likewise, I jump back into my room and lock the door as well, just in case Kenji has anything more to say.

So, I've got to go into the city post office and get someone else's mail. Is that even allowed? Won't I need an ID or something? And why is it even in the city? We have a post office here in town.

Whatever the reason is; I've got nothing to do for the rest of the week. It'll be better than just laying around all day, anyway. And hell, if what Lilly said earlier is right; I could wait until Saturday and take the chance of running into Akira. It'd be nice to find out how she's been doing.



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Re: Akira Pseudo-Route [Updated as of 10/24]

Post by Mirage_GSM »

Looks fine so far; just two comments:
For one thing I agree with what was already said about too many chance meetings. I think Akira works quite a ways from Yamaku, so the chances she would go to the Shanghai just for a cup of coffee without also meeting Lilly are slight. Same for the last meeting in fromt of the store.

The second thing is I don't think it's possible to get through Act 1 without meeting Hanako at all beyond the scene in the library. Especially it's not possible not to learn about her connection to Lilly.
Emi > Misha > Hanako > Lilly > Rin > Shizune

My collected KS-Fan Fictions: Mirage's Myths
griffon8 wrote:Kosher, just because sex is your answer to everything doesn't mean that sex is the answer to everything.
Sore wa himitsu desu.
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