Post
by Thanatos02 » Fri Nov 09, 2012 1:16 am
Awright, beginning of Act 3. Given the option, this is where an Akira-specific animation would play. Beginning of act 2 would be a bad place since you don't exactly go into Kenji's ending expecting to wind up with Lilly's sister. Honestly, the only reason it took so long to push this out is because I kept getting sidetracked while writing thinking of all the little things, like what her title cards and CGs would look like, what an animation would be about, etc. At one point I was just laying down for half an hour thinking of ideas for a smooth jazz arrangement of Lilly's Concord as Akira's theme. I'm terrible with Finale or any Midi editors/composers though, so that's probably never going to come to fruition; hell, CGs and the other things are kind of impossible too, so whatever.
But anyway; got a lot planned for Act 3, so keep it coming with the comments and criticism.
Act 3 - Part 1-1: Insight
A gentle white noise slithers into my ears, wresting me from what may very well be the best sleep I’ve had in months. The school has a decent level of funding, but I speak from experience when I say that the beds are not what that money goes to.
The fact that I’m waking up on a couch doesn’t speak much for Yamaku’s case.
I sit up and raise my arms in a stretch before rubbing the sleep from my eyes, already waiting for the chance to go back to bed. The only thing keeping me from burying my face back in the pillow is the sight of a wall clock indicating that it’s a few minutes past noon.
The scene before me takes a bit to become familiar; below me lies the most comfortable couch in the world, clad in black leather. To the front sits a glass-top coffee table and a flatscreen television, currently showing the afternoon headlines. Other than a faint hum, there’s no volume coming from the panel, muted for some reason or another.
Thanks to the fact that I managed to stay out so late last night, there was no way to get back to Yamaku. Needless to say, I did what any reasonable man would do; I freeloaded on a classmate’s sister’s couch.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
The very same sister who happens to be resting on the recliner nearby, arms hanging off the sides in lethargy. She made a point of locking her room when she left me last night, so I'm pretty sure she isn't just waking up. Maybe she was trying to catch up with the news without disturbing me.
“Morning, Akira. Feeling better?”
“Headache, sore all over, the usual fare. I’ve been worse off.” she answers.
After how many drinks she went through last night, I think that’s a pretty light sentence. I didn’t go through even half as much as her when I went up to the roof with Kenji, and I was out of commission for an entire day.
For twelve in the afternoon, the room is rather dim. The glass pane spanning the back wall has been covered by a set of white curtains, with only slivers of sunlight bleeding in between the cracks. It’s not a lot, but there's enough light to make out the figure of the woman beside me, her frame laying in the reclining seat like a ragdoll.
It would seem that she’s intent on taking the rest of the day off as well, considering her state of undress. From the tip of her toes to the middle of her thigh is smooth, bare skin, only cutting off to transition into the silky red cloth of a pair of pajama shorts.
Her upper half is dressed with about as much attention to conservation; clad in a button-up shirt with only one button done up. The pallor of her midriff is exposed and only a few minor details around her bustline remain hidden behind the white fabric. It hides ‘enough,’ although one can still note that her current outfit doesn’t do nearly as well a job of hiding her features as her usual pinstripe suit.
“Why is the TV muted?” I ask; moreso to interrupt the silence, and to reduce the possibility of her looking over and catching me with my eyes in the wrong place.
“You looked so adorable while you were sleeping. I just couldn’t bring myself to risk waking you up.” she returns, her sarcastic humor shining through even the foggiest of hangovers.
“You don't need to worry about me; I slept like a log either way.”
“Yeah, that’s something everyone needs more of -- sleep.” she responds.
“What’s stopping you? Got work today?”
“No work today, but I’ve gotta get ready for some other things.”
As if she were just reminded of the fact herself, she sits up and raises her arms in a stretch, a long yawn sauntering out of her mouth as...
PINK.
“A-Akira, your, uh...”
“What’s up?” she asks as she grabs the chair arm and twists around, popping her back. Such an action only exacerbates the problem and tears me between my two instincts. Given free rule, one eye would focus all of its energy on the perky exposed flesh while the other would look as far away as physically possible – like some kind of googly-eyed, refined pervert.
Unable to form the proper words, I point to my chest frantically, not even bothering to worry about the stereotypical slap or thrown object that would be sent my way.
She tilts her head in confusion before glancing down and noticing the ‘problem’, a long-winded chuckle escaping her throat in response.
“Ah, that’s not very ladylike of me, is it?” she comments as she grabs both halves of her shirt and pulls them in, doing up the rest of the buttons with a light blush emerging on her cheeks. “Sorry about that; you stop paying mind to things like this when you've been living alone for a while."
What has been seen cannot be unseen. And now that she says something like that, I can’t help but imagine a lazy Akira on her day off not even bothering to put clothes on.
“Oh, but you seem to be paying a lot of mind to it~.” she teases.
The only word I’m able to squeeze out in response is an embarrassed “sorry,” the amount of heat rushing to my face cutting off the possibility of any witty retort.
“Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s my fault for lying around in my pajamas when company is over to begin with.”
“Well, it is your place; you have the freedom to do whatever you want.” I reply.
“Are you only saying that because you liked what you saw?” she counters, the sides of her mouth curled up into a catlike smirk.
The only answer I’m able to call upon is a flustered sigh as the palm of my hand flies up to my face.
“Oh c’mon, I’m just having fun. You’re supposed to laugh too.”
“Hah.” I huff.
“See, you have the sense of humor, you just refuse to use it. Lighten up every once in a while.”
Well, there’s plenty of things I could have said in response to that, like ‘yeah, that’s exactly why I said it,’ or ‘I’m just saying you shouldn’t change how you behave because I’m here; you could lie around naked if you wanted.’
But things like that are...
There's no way to feel comfortable making jokes like that. Not yet, anyway. ‘Just because you can doesn’t mean you should’ or some other proverb like that.
“I know how to have fun. It’s what I was doing last night, wasn’t it?” I reply.
That’s no understatement either. From the arcade to the jazz club and all the way home, I don’t think there was a single dull moment. It might be because of the person I was with though; she could make watching paint dry interesting.
“It was a good start, but you’ve still got a long way to go.” she comments, scratching her chin in thought.
“How so?”
“Well, you’re gonna have to start getting out of that school more if you want to be the wild rebel you claimed to be last night.” she answers with an amused smile.
“That was a joke; I’d rather not go down that path.” I reply, shoulders dropping in embarrassment as I remember the fact that I even said such a thing.
“Good man.” she replies with an almost relieved smile.
“I don’t want to stay as the boring, dull shut-in I am now, but I’m definitely not going to turn into a wild animal. There’s so many ways that wouldn’t work out.”
“One day, I want to take you to work with me. If you think you’re a dull person, then you’ve never met any of my co-workers.”
“You said that last night too. What’s so bad about your job?” I ask.
“Back on the interrogation act again, eh?” she answers, crossing her arms in mock disobedience.
“Do you want it to be an interrogation?”
“Ooh, all questions and no answers; so mysterious.” she replies, voice laden with the sarcasm I find myself getting used to.
“How about we make a trade then? You tell me about yourself, and then I’ll tell you about myself.”
“I was actually just playing with you, but I happen to like that agreement; information is a valuable commodity these days.” Akira answers.
“Good luck getting money for anything I have to say.” I retort.
“Believe me; it’s the same on this end. I’m director of human resources for a small networking company here in the city. Don’t buy into the ‘director’ title though; think of a glorified babysitter. All I've got is my Associate's in Corporate Law, and I got hired while I was still in school, so there's more than a few reasons it's not a very prestigious job.” she starts.
“Nine in the morning to five in the afternoon, every day for six weeks; nothing but paperwork, phone calls, and lecturing workers.”
“Yeah, Lilly was saying something like that. Sounds to me like they work you to the bone.” I comment.
The statement gets a rise out of her; but it’s more of a bitter laugh than an amused one.
“There are other guys with me; the company isn’t so small that it can all be managed by one person. But since they prefer to call me the head honcho, it’s only natural that I do about thirty times more work than the rest of the team.”
“What exactly do you do as ‘director of human resources’?”
I’ve heard the term at least three or four times now, but I still haven’t the faintest idea as to what she does, other than ‘discipline.’
She recites a list of terms from memory, such as ‘maintenance of employee relations,’ ‘orientation, training, and development,’ ‘performance management and improvement systems,’ ‘recruiting and staffing,’ ‘organizational and staff planning...’
The only reply I’m able to manage is a weak “that’s quite the list of things to worry about.”
“It’s not as tough as it sounds; more boring than anything else. Most of it is busy work, like interviews with the same three types of applicants, phone calls to find out why someone’s skipping out on work, thinking up ways to motivate grunts who won’t get off their asses...”
She stops mid-statement to think a few things over, as if what she’d said could have been worded better.
“Don’t get me wrong, I like my job, and I like the people I work with. But man, I want something new every now and then. I’m too young to be stuck on the same daily grind as men twice my age.” she finishes with a grimace.
“Well, what would you rather be doing?” I ask.
“Ah, that’s it for now. Your turn.” she retorts, laying back in the recliner with her head in her hands.
If there’s anything she’s good at, it’s making someone want something. Cutting me off right there just increases my appetite to learn more about her, damnit.
“Alright, shoot.”
She scratches her chin in thought as all of the possibilities race through her mind.
As far as I’m concerned; she can ask whatever she wants. The question I’m most squeamish about has already been taken care of, so unless she’s somehow forgotten; it’s going to be something a little easier to answer.
“What have you got planned after graduation?”
Or not.
“There’s something the both of us wants to know.”
An amused chuckle springs forth from her mouth in response.
“We were all there at one point or another,” she replies, “it’s a tough choice figuring out what you want to do with the rest of your existence.”
“Well, I mean, I can narrow it down, but there’s no definites so far. It doesn’t help that I never put any thought into it until I got here.”
“First things first; what are you shooting for?”
“Something in the science world. I’m still a little torn between research chemistry and theoretical physics.” I reply.
The latter of the two options is a flat-out lie, because I know I’m not the sort of person who would even be able to stay on their feet in that field. But it’s something to create some conversation, right?
She whistles in surprise at my response, no doubt trying to wrap her head around the mere idea of me being someone who's into that field.
“I’m going to go ahead and tell you that science has never been my strong point. I’m in corporate law; all that theoretical and scientific stuff is Greek to me.”
“Most scientific nomenclature is done in Latin, so you're actually right on the money.” I jab, no doubt with a smarmy grin plastered on my mug.
“See, just like I said; you've got the smart-ass in you, it's just that you refuse to let him out.” Akira responds, one finger in the air as if she were giving a lecture.
“Anyway; everyone has strengths and weaknesses. I’m sure I’d make a solid F on any kind of law exam.”
She shrugs her shoulders and gives an inconsequential nod, as if to shrug off the comment. “So, where are you planning to go with that? Straight to a career so you can work your way up?”
“Well, actually, I was planning to go to college.”
“Ah, college.” she muses.
She drifts off to a world of daydreaming and nostalgia, reminiscing over what must be the turning point of her life before jumping back into reality.
“There’s two things I can say about college. On one hand, it’s a great place to get a head-start on life; you get your first job and you’re already prepared for most of what you’re going to be doing.”
“On the other hand... well, make sure you have a backup plan. Life doesn't wait for some people to finish their education.” she comments with a half-hearted smile. There's much more emphasis on the second part of her advice.
“You sound like you speak from experience.”
My comment is met with a long sigh and a curt “Yep.”
I get the feeling that she has a lot to say on the matter; pent up emotions, regrets, sarcastic jokes and bitter comments, anything. Though, the primary question is; why would Akira say something like that in the first place? What happened to her in college that kept her from finishing her education?
Was her time in school even left unfinished? She mentioned having her a degree in corporate law, so she at least finished something off; but was she intending to go higher? A 4- or even a 6- year degree? Did she intend to major in corporate law, or was she going for something else?
Normally she’d keep on going; ranting about whatever it was that cut her off with sardonic off-handed statements about her situation flying left and right.
But there’s nothing. Just a sigh, a ‘yep,’ and silence.
Last edited by
Thanatos02 on Sun Nov 11, 2012 12:02 am, edited 3 times in total.
Proud member of Polish Route - group that translated Katawa Shoujo to Polish. Full translation released!
