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[BlackWaltzTheThird]

The Girl Who Cried "Wolf" (TRIGGER WARNING; GORE, SEXUAL VIOLENCE, SELF-HARM)

I know that he’s still here. I know that he knows that I’m still here. I know he won’t leave until he finds me. I know that when he does, he’ll do to me what he did to Shizune. Maybe even more.

I can still hear his maniacal laughter echoing though my mind. I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be so mirthful whilst committing such atrocities. Great, now I can hear Shizune’s screams again. Having been hidden in here this whole time, I can’t say for certain what actually transpired, but based on what I could hear, I can make a reasonable guess.

He entered our apartment alone. He wasn’t particularly subtle about it, but evidently no one in the other apartments was awake to hear him. We were awake though. Shizune, obviously, couldn’t hear the intrusion, but she was quickly informed. She told me to call the police and hide, while she went to investigate.
She never came back.

I couldn’t call the cops. We were having one of our altogether-too-frequent “bad signal days”. Shizune has been up to the apartment manager many times about it, but he insists there’s nothing wrong with the phone signals in the rest of the building. Shortly after, the power went out. Just another benefit of living in this shitty apartment.

It was then I heard her. It was muffled at first. I can’t say I’ve ever heard Shizune’s voice properly before, but I immediately knew it was her. She wasn’t far away; just on the other side of the wall, or thereabouts. I could hear her struggle. I could hear him utter his demented greeting in a low voice. I could hear everything as he forced Shizune to the ground and ravaged her. Violently. Mercilessly.

Though she had no way of conveying it to me properly, I knew that through her tears and whatever was covering her mouth, Shizune was screaming for me to run. To flee. To abandon her and save myself. I couldn’t. I could only sit here, huddled in the dark, crying and frozen with fear.

Shizune fought back. Something hurt him, and he growled in rage as he struck Shizune. Punches and kicks in cartoons always have those exaggerated sound effects. And yet, the sound of real violence isn’t too far removed from it. Twenty-seven times he struck Shizune. Or beat her with a weapon. Or smashed her skull into the ground. I’m not really sure which. But each blow landed with a sickening thud and, later, a crunch.

The screams stopped after that.

But it got worse. I heard the “schwing” of metal being drawn across stone. Or, in this case, a brand new kitchen knife being withdrawn from its sharpening block. Then I heard the squelches. The blade piercing Shizune’s body countless times; hacking… chopping… slicing… dismembering. I don’t know what he was doing with the pieces of my best friend, but whatever it was, it was endlessly amusing to him, causing him to chuckle with a low grunt at first, and building up to the maniacal laughter that rings though my consciousness now.

But you know what the scariest sound in the world is? Even worse than the sound of screams of torturous agony; of bones cracking; of flesh being rent in twain? It’s the silence that comes afterwards.

Hopefully he’s still where he was when he stopped laughing. The very thought that he could be moving around in silence, seeking me out at this very minute, all without my knowledge, terrifies me to the core. I have no idea how long it’s been since the apartment went silent. I dare not try to find out. I make each breath as shallow and as quiet as possible, remaining perfectly still so that he won’t find me.

It’s in vain. The door of the walk-in wardrobe opens impossibly slowly and I feel him approach my hiding place inside the washing hamper. Though there are several days of clothes covering me, he manages to reach in, grab the collar of my shirt, and heave me out with little effort. I feel weightless for a brief second before I land on the ground heavily, sprawled beside my bed. He grasps my shoulder roughly and rolls me over to face him, pinning me under his body. I open my eyes, and I gasp in shock.

“Hi-… Hicchan?”

His face lights up in a deranged grin. When he speaks, it’s in a terrifying mixture of a hoarse whisper and a menacing roar.

“Hello, Shiina! So nice to see you again, after all these years! How long has it been, Shiina? Nine years? Ten?”

Every use of my real name is emphasised; so much so that flecks of spit hit me when he says it. I look away in shame, unable to witness face of the boy I once knew contorted into this crazed maniac.

“…Eleven.”

“Eleven years, Shiina! Eleven years I’ve been stuck in that prison. Eleven years I’ve been tormented by the other prisoners, by the guards, by the judges. Why’d you do it, Shiina? Why’d you put me through that? Why’d you tell them I raped you?”

The repressed memory bubbles to the surface. It was night, and I went to Hisao’s room. I bore my soul to him. I asked him to comfort me. We had sex. Awkward, guilty, empty sex. We both felt incredibly remorseful afterwards. Shizune didn’t know what had happened at first, but she knew something was wrong. It tore their relationship apart.

They fought. A lot. On one particularly bad day, Hisao told her how he fucked me senseless in his room while they were still together. Naturally, Shizune was shocked. She looked to me for answers and I broke down in tears. She kicked Hisao out of her dorm in her fury, and came to comfort me. She held me for what seemed like hours, until the tears stopped. She asked me to tell her the truth. And I said he raped me.

“You destroyed my life, Shiina! You know what happens to guys who rape pretty schoolgirls in prison? They get raped, Shiina. Day in, day out. And no one ever does anything about it, because in prison there’s a perverted sense of justice. Not even my own parents believed what I said! Meanwhile, you and your slut friend live the high life on the compensation that came out of my inheritance!”

I choke back tears as what little remains of my resolve crumbles.

“H-Hisao, I’m sorry… I d-didn’t mean to… I p-panicked…”

Once again, he laughs maniacally. He laughs so hard it brings a tear to his eye. Quick as a flash, though, he’s back to wearing the demented grin from before.

“You’re sorry? Well, I guess that’s that then! You’re sorry! It’s all better now. I can just go right back to living my life again, all because you said sorry!”

As if it was even possible, he presses his face right up to mine. I can feel his hot breath on my face as he continues speaking.

“But don’t worry, Shiina, I know you’re not sorry. But you will be. Once I’m done with you, you’ll be sorry you were even born.”

He reaches over me to retrieve a roll of duct tape from my bed, which he must have placed there before grabbing me. He unrolls a strip and uses it to bind my mouth shut. I push his hand away, but he simply grabs my hands and binds them too. I try to fight him off, to no avail. He’s too strong for me. Forcefully, he tears open my blouse and begins to fondle my breasts. He squeezes and presses roughly, using so much force as to be painful.

He kisses me through the tape, and begins to move downward, kissing and fondling all the while. When he reaches my navel, he stops fondling my breasts and starts to remove my shorts. I kick and scream through the tape, but again his strength outweighs mine and he manages to remove the garment, leaving my lower body exposed.

He breathes in deeply, savouring the aroma, and kisses the inside of my thigh, moving up towards my crotch but ultimately passing by it to go down my other leg, before reversing the action. For several minutes – or hours, I don’t know – this continues, after which he applies his fingers to me; feeling around, prodding, pressing, stretching. His kisses become licks, only now targeting my clitoris, which involuntarily swells and becomes more sensitive.

Tears stream from my face and I arch my back to look as far behind me as possible, so as to avoid watching the non-consensual act as it is performed. In retaliation, he bites down on me and inserts his fingers, curling them upward to forcibly extract as much pleasure as possible. I wince and try to cross my legs to block him out, but he forces them open and continues to violate me digitally. I begin shifting my hips to counteract his ministrations, and to my surprise he withdraws his offensive.

But it’s only for a second. In place of his finger, he jams his erect penis deep into my vagina. Were it not for the tape binding my mouth shut, I would have gasped. He starts thrusting, slowly at first, then more quickly and forcefully. With no way of stopping him, I lie back and take it, tears continually flowing into the carpet. Against my will, my body tenses up and my hips thrust in time to his. I can feel the sensation build up inside me, and I hate myself for allowing it to occur, even though there is nothing I can do about it.

Then, release. My whole body spasms, causing my back to arch, my eyes to clench shut, my bound hands to ball into fists, and my vagina to squeeze tightly on the invading penis. In turn, his penis twitches uncontrollably, shooting wave after wave of hot semen deep into my body. For a second, neither of us moves, too busy basking in the carnal sensations of orgasm.

Feeling returns to my body, and I feel him withdraw from within me. I sigh with relief that the ordeal is over, only to see him tear the tape from my face and pull me into a sitting position. He orders me to clean him, voice seething with hate. I turn my face away, but he forces it back and holds a knife – stained with Shizune’s still-dripping blood – against my throat. I open my mouth and lick and suck every last drop of seminal fluid from his penis.

I collapse back onto the floor, chest heaving with exhaustion. The bitter taste of salt and coins fills my mouth and nose, and I can feel his semen dripping out of my vagina. No further tears flow from my eyes. I’m all cried out. Nearby, he stands up and examines the bloody knife.

“No one can know about this, Shiina,” he states flatly. “I’m not going back to prison. Not ever.”

My eyes widen in shock. Oh, God, I’m gonna die! I’m-gonna-die-I’m-gonna-die-I’m-gonna-die! He notices my alarm and smiles a grotesque smile.

“Oh no, no, no, Shiina, I’m not going to kill you. That would only put you out of your misery.”

What was, briefly, relief, now becomes fear. My blood runs cold as I imagine what horrible things he can possibly do to me now. He continues speaking in his strange, new, emotionless monotone.

“I have nothing left to live for, you know. My parents won’t speak to me. My former friends won’t have anything to do with me. I don’t even have prison buddies that I can look forward to seeing once the cops find out what I’ve done.”

He sighs and flops to the ground, staring at his reflection in the knife. Suddenly, he doesn’t look anywhere near as crazed as he did before. He looks… unbelievably broken. Despondent beyond repair.

“I’m really the worst kind of person. Wouldn’t it be better if I just died? After all, I’ve done something really terrible now. Unforgivably terrible.”

He lets his words sink in for several minutes. I have no response. What could I say to that? From somewhere deep in my subconscious, words come to me.

“Don’t be stupid. A long time ago, I did a stupid thing. That’s the reason you’re here right now. All these years, I’ve been trying to figure out if I could… make it right somehow. Do you feel that way now? You said it yourself, you’ve done a terrible thing. We can try fixing them. I just think that killing yourself is the biggest regret a person could end up with.”

My voice catches in my throat. Oh my God. Am I forgiving him? After what he did to Shizune? After what he did to me? What the hell is wrong with me? I feel sick to my stomach. Still looking at his reflection, he smiles. Not a demented, vengeful smile. A sad, lonely smile.

“You’re so dramatic, Shiina.”

I notice he doesn’t emphasise my name this time. He stands up, knife still in hand, and looks into my eyes. Like with his smile, the dark fires of rage and long since burned out; in its place exists only a hollow emptiness. I stand, myself, and step over to him. I place my hands on his, and gently try to pry the knife away from him.

Unexpectedly, he leans forward and kisses me on the lips, then whispers “I’m sorry” into my ear. Before I even register what is happening, I feel his hands tense, see the crimson blood spurt from the wound in his neck, and hear the gurgles as his lungs fill with blood. He collapses, blood pooling around him as the last of his life force flows out onto the carpet.

I can only stare helplessly as the lights leave his eyes.Unable to witness Hisao draw his dying breath, I run from the room, only to encounter Shizune's mangled corpse, the word "slut" cut into her torso with wounds several inches deep. I fall to my knees, despite the warm pool of blood at my feet. I sob and heave violently, tears flowing again. Here I am, in a pool of my friend’s blood, violated, humiliated, and alone. The light of the dawning sun peeks through the blinds of the window on the other side of the room, and, as if timed to match, the power comes back on.

I reach for the phone on the countertop, and dial a number I haven't dialled in eleven years. The phone rings for a long time, before a sleepy sounding female voice answers.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Mrs. Nakai. This is Mi – Shiina. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“Sorry, dear? Whatever for?”

“For lying about Hisao.”

Before I get a response, I hang up. I look at the knife still clutched in my other hand, now doused in two samples of blood.

I close my eyes and raise the knife to my neck.

And I slice.

==========

Don't say I didn't warn you. I guess reading Doomish's WAtHE had an effect on me after all. Hopefully this mood passes quickly so I can go back to writing that other thing with Emi in it. My sincerest apologies to anyone who was troubled by reading this. I am prepared to suffer the wrath of angry readers if I must. I can only pray that you'll forgive me.

[Mirage_GSM]

I was hoping there would be some kind of point to the story...
Oh, and if you wanted to warn people about the story, you should have used keywords like "Violence", "Gore" or "Rape". I'm still not sure what you mean by "Trigger".

I reach for the phone on my bedside unit, and dial. The phone rings for a long time,...

I thought the power lines were cut...

[BlackWaltzTheThird]

Oh, and if you wanted to warn people about the story, you should have used keywords like "Violence", "Gore" or "Rape". I'm still not sure what you mean by "Trigger".

trigger warning
Web definitions
A warning placed on websites, forums or e-mails to let the reader know that some content may cause great emotion, switching, fear, etc. due to particular traumatic experiences such as rape

But if you think it's really necessary I will add something like that up there as well.

I thought the power lines were cut...

Eh I said it was a possibility.

I was hoping there would be some kind of point to the story...

Such as...?

[Mirage_GSM]

Well, I don't start google everytime I don't know some slang term, so some univerally understandable warning might be practical. The intention of a warning is that your audience should understand it after all. If I don't want visitors to enter the room where I keep my pet anaconda I don't write the warning sign in Suaheli

I was hoping there would be some kind of point to the story...

Such as...?

I guess "point" was the wrong word.
I was expecting some kind of twist - like Misha misunderstood the situation and they were really preparing a surprise birthday party for her or something like that. You know, 'cause I didn't understand your warning (and also because Kosher's fics trained me to expect stuff like that

[ProfAllister]

Now, of course I feel the need to acknowledge that I'm biased here. It's probably pretty obvious to most people that I'd have such a bias, but it's better to have that out in the clear. Unsurprisingly, I didn't like this.

But I'm not going to complain about things like character derailment, the appropriateness of rape as a dramatic device, or any of several other possible objections. Those objections still exist, but I have a much bigger objection to something arguably more important - the tone.

This reads like a revenge fantasy. The "bad guy" is depicted as a monster as she hides. The graphic auditory description makes that clear. And of course he has all the superhuman features of the standard slasher movie villain. The actual rape felt like it was revelling in her helplessness. I'd go as far as to say if felt like the narrator was enjoying the description. And then an ironic callback, an attempt to humanize this figure who had been so clearly and irredeemably a monster for the first half of the story (completely forgetting about the other victim - where's the murderer's justification for that?).

And in the end, he wins. He breaks his victim, manages to achieve what seems to him to be a mistake, and she never recovers. There is no redemption, no sunlight, no hope. "The world's a shitty place. Just hope you don't get fucked too hard."

Now, I'm strongly against the idea of throwing one's work away, or hiding it where no one can see. That being said, I truly believe a work like this can be very dangerous. No need to hide it away somewhere (although a more significant warning may be merited). However, I would strongly recommend you get yourself FAR away from this subject matter (both in writing and consuming) for the time being. Indulging too much in this kind of thing can be very bad for one's health.

[BlackWaltzTheThird]

Now, I'm strongly against the idea of throwing one's work away, or hiding it where no one can see. That being said, I truly believe a work like this can be very dangerous. No need to hide it away somewhere (although a more significant warning may be merited). However, I would strongly recommend you get yourself FAR away from this subject matter (both in writing and consuming) for the time being. Indulging too much in this kind of thing can be very bad for one's health.

I appreciate the concern, but you needn't worry. I highly doubt something of that calibre will come to me for a long time now. In fact, I'm back to working on a much lighter piece as I mentioned in the spoiler. That said, I will place a more informative warning on the story. I thought the 'trigger' nomenclature was more widespread than it seems it is. I've certainly seen it around a fair bit. In any case, it should no longer be an issue. Now, back to writing Emific.

[Doomish]

I like that Misha suddenly gets calm and collected enough to have a deep and involved conversation with Hisao after he just raped her and murdered Shizune.

EDIT: And I like that Misha just for some reason happened to have Hisao's parents' number.

[ChaosWolf]

...Yeesh... I would STRONGLY suggest putting that last one behind some sort of spoiler-block or something so folks who don't want to read it don't have to, even just in the course of scrolling down the page.

[BlackWaltzTheThird]

While your concern for others is nice and all, I don't think action that drastic is necessary. There is adequate warning both on the contents page and the story header. People generally don't scroll so slowly as to read any noteworthy amount of a post they may be trying to avoid.

I like that Misha suddenly gets calm and collected enough to have a deep and involved conversation with Hisao after he just raped her and murdered Shizune. EDIT: And I like that Misha just for some reason happened to have Hisao's parents' number.

Eh what can I say, it's not meant to be a particularly accurate story. One may assume there had been previous contact between the Misha and the Nakai's due to Hisao's trial and Misha's compensation arrangements. Again, it's not meant to be accurate. I just wrote as it came to me. Thanks for the nightmare fuel, by the way. I need to find something really saccharine to counteract that so I can finish what I'm supposed to be writing now.

After I finish my homework.

Ugh.

[Carighan]

I dread to think how your homework turns out.

[BlackWaltzTheThird]

The Purest Form of Love - Chapter 2: Dinner Conversation
First | Next

[Emi]

“Let’s see… oh! There it is. Rin, get over here and quit knocking on other people’s doors!”

“You told me you had to knock before you go into someone’s room. So I’m knocking.”

“Yeah, but we’re not going to those rooms. We’re going to Satou’s room.”

“You’re going to Satou’s room. I’m not going to Satou’s room. I’m just following you because you told me to come with you. If I happen to end up there then that’s the way it is. Or I could end up somewhere else, which is why I’m knocking on these doors, because if I end up in someone else’s room they will have wanted me to knock first. It’s polite.”

“It’s not polite to bother people for no reason, though. C’mon, you don’t wanna miss dinner, do you?”

“I don’t really mind. Dinner usually misses me, so I don’t think it will mind if I miss it back.”

I stare hard into Rin’s eyes, hands on my hips, trying my best to convey my displeasure. Her neutral stare remains unchanged, so I give up and knock on the door before me. A refined voice rings out from within.

“The door is unlocked; please come in.”

I turn the doorhandle and push the door open slowly, poking my head through the gap as I enter. The room inside is immaculate and well-ordered, as one would expect of a blind girl’s room; you gotta minimise trip hazards and all that jazz.

In the centre of the room lies a small table, on which rests a floral teapot and several matching teacups. Seated at the left side of the table, and dressed in some pretty flattering dark pyjamas, is the blonde amazon, Lilly Satou.

“We’re not early, are we?”

Lilly smiles in my general direction and covers a slight giggle.

“Not at all. You’re just in time I’d say. Hanako should be returning with dinner shortly.”

I rub my hands together in eager anticipation, and take a seat on the far side of the table, to Lilly’s left. Noticing that Rin is still standing outside, staring at something in the distance, I call out.

“C’mon Rin, don’t just stand out there. Come sit down!”

Rin ambles through the doorway without even looking away from whatever holds her interest, and somehow manages to take her place opposite Lilly without tripping on anything.

“My, my, I wasn’t expecting to have two extra guests tonight, though I can’t say I’m surprised. Welcome.”

Rin ignores Lilly’s greeting, instead choosing to take in the unfamiliar room. I jab her in the ribs with my elbow to catch her attention.

“Oh. Hello. I wasn’t expecting to have two guests either. I was dragged away from my room, which might be why I’m a guest myself, so I wouldn’t know if I have any guests. I don’t usually have guests. Except Emi, but she’s your guest right now. So I don’t have any guests after all. What a shame.”

Clearly Lilly has no idea how to respond to Rin’s nonsense. I don’t really have much of an idea myself. I usually tend to ignore it. Thankfully the awkward silence is broken by a knock at the door, which opens shortly after to reveal Hanako with her arms full of an assortment of plastic containers.

I catch her eye and wave, which she returns with a smile before stepping over to the table and setting down her load. As she unpacks the food, I notice that her nightie, while showing more of her scars than the school uniform, is quite conservative. It makes a strange contrast to Lilly’s attire, as well as my own nightshirt and boxer shorts, and reminds me somewhat of that day at the beach.

Before long, Hanako has finished setting out the food, and I take in the sights and smells of the various dishes with vigour. Lilly, being unable to see the food, takes several long breaths, savouring each flavour in its odour form.

“Would you like to tell us what you’ve made, Hanako?”

“S-sure. On your right are s-some miso onigiri… um, I decorated them with some c-cute faces, but you… um, never mind. On your left is a fish c-curry with onions and t-tomatoes. There’s some rice n-next to it if you want, as well. A-and on the other side of the t-teapot is a bowl of curly fr— oh, um…”

Hanako holds up her hand in a feeble half-withdrawn-half-reaching pose, as Rin looks up like a deer in headlights, mouth open and toes holding several curly fries before her mouth.

“Oh. Were we not supposed to eat these yet? I’ll put them back.”

“N-no, that’s okay…”

Rin shrugs and stuffs the fries into her mouth. Her expression indicates that she likes them. Without further ado, I take several fries and chomp them down myself.

“Hey, these are pretty good! Shame they’re so fattening though, I’m gonna have to run twice as hard tomorrow to work these off. Well, may as well enjoy myself while I can!”

I take a plate and start loading it up with piles of the different dishes, sampling pieces as I go. I notice that, while Lilly has her plate filled, she has not yet touched any food.

“How come you haven’t had any yet, Lilly? You’re missing out; this stuff is beyond delicious!”

Lilly hums quietly, a light smile perched on her lips.

“Oh, I was just waiting for it to cool a little. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

Lilly then takes a mouthful of the curry, chewing slowly, apparently savouring the taste. Next to her, Hanako watches as Lilly’s expression turns to one of enjoyment.

“It’s delicious, Hanako. Thank you.”

Hanako beams at Lilly’s approval, squeaking ‘great!’, and starts on her own food. Soon enough, the four of us have consumed the lot, crockery licked clean. Well, I lick mine clean anyway, which elicits a giggle from Hanako as I do so.

Lilly serves us all tea to wash down our meal, which I drink out of respect. I never was one for tea, and the caffeine… ugh. A bit of saturated fat can be run off easily enough, but caffeinated energy sticks around for a while. Nevertheless, it’s quite nicely flavoured. Lemon, I think.

From over the top of the cup I watch the others. Lilly sips her tea with her pinky finger out, while Hanako wraps her hands around her cup. Rin, on the other hand…

“Could I have a straw? Teacups don’t agree with my feet. That’s not to say they disagree, because teacups can’t hold nor express opinions, but it doesn’t work very well.”

Hanako sets down her cup, eyes wide, and hops to her feet.

“Oh! S-sorry, I’ll go get one from the c-common room. I’ll be right b-back.”

Hanako dashes out the door, leaving it open. I take the opportunity to get something off my mind.

“Hey, Lilly, you seemed kinda hesitant to tuck into that grub before.”

Lilly frowns and shuffles nervously.

“Yes, well… let me just say that Hanako likes to experiment, and that not every meal comes out as well as that one did.”

“Huh. Say, do you reckon Hanako’d wanna come over and cook with my mom? She cooks all kinds of great stuff.”

“It’s a possibility. Why don’t you ask her?”

I don’t notice the footsteps in the doorway until the voice of their owner speaks up.

“Ask me what?”

I find myself stammering for no good reason. Maybe it’s just the feeling of being caught out talking about Hanako behind her back.

“Oh, I… uh… I was just telling Lilly about the great stuff my mom cooks, and I wondered if… if you wanted to come round and cook with her sometime.”

Hanako’s face takes on a surprised expression, cheeks flushed bright red. Her right hand nervously fiddles with her nightie, while her left clutches her arm. Her eyes flick between Lilly, Rin and me before she makes up her mind.

“Um… s-sure.”

“Great! I usually head home on the weekends, so you can come with me then if you want. Otherwise we can organise something that suits you.”

“The weekend is o-okay.”

“Awesome. Now how about some more of that lemon-y tea?”

*****

The bus comes to a lurching stop, and I make my way to the front and out of its confines. I’m glad to be out of the hot, cramped space. I crinkle my nose at the heavy city air, and turn around to beckon Hanako onto the street with me.

I gotta hand it to her; she scrubs up pretty well when she wants to. She’s got a real fashionista look about her, with her ruffle-collared shirt, denim jacket, and matching black jeans and hat. She’d probably get along well with the girl that runs the fashion club – what was her name? Saki, I think, from the year below us.

I lead her the few blocks to my place, the exterior of which she takes in briefly before following me inside. I call out across the house.

“Mom, we’re here!”

“I’m in the living room, dear!”

We enter the living room, where mom is reclining on a chair, reading a women’s magazine.

“Hey, mom. This is Hanako. Hanako, mom. Mom, Hanako.”

Hanako gives a nervous wave and a slightly more confident ‘hi’, while mom gets out of her chair to greet Hanako properly. Thankfully, she seems to take no notice of – or ignores – the scarring that Hanako is habitually hiding.

“Well, aren’t you gorgeous? I love your outfit; it suits you very nicely. It reminds me of the stuff I used to wear when I was young and pretty. You can call me Meiko, or Mrs. Ibarazaki if that’s too casual for you.”

Hanako blushes slightly before mom continues.

“Did you want something to drink? It’s quite hot out there after all.”

“N-no, thanks. I’m fine.”

“Okay, great! It’s only quarter to six, so if you want to relax for a bit before we get started, then I’d be happy to put on a movie or something. Otherwise, we can get started now and leave plenty of time for dessert.”

Hanako appears to be caught off guard at having the choice deferred to her. She makes that pose where she clutches her elbow and shirt again; it must be a nervous thing.

“Um… I’d like to start n-now, if that’s alright.”

Mom beams and makes an exaggerated dismissive wave when she responds. Gee, mom, way to be embarrassing.

“Oh, of course, sweetheart. C’mon, the kitchen’s this way.”

The kitchen is only a short walk away from the living room. I note that mom has a spread of different things prepared on the bench. I guess her definition of ‘just get a few different things to try’ is vastly different to mine. She opens and uncovers various containers in turn as Hanako inspects the contents.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I made sure there were a lot of options we can take a look at. I have a few recipes in mind, but if you want to try something specific then I have a fair few things in the pantry.”

“S-sure. Do you have a n-notepad? I’d like to write a few things d-down.”

I take a seat at the table while Mom and Hanako discuss various potential dishes and flavour combinations. I kinda lose track of what they’re talking about after a bit, with all the foreign words they’re throwing around – oh hey, I know what sauté means – but just from looking, it looks like there’s to be a lot of dishes to wash afterwards.

With the menu sorted out, Hanako begins cutting some vegetables. Mom steps into the dining area and over to the battered cassette player she keeps on the crockery cabinet. Oh no. Really, mom?

“Hanako, dear, do you mind if I put on some music? I find cooking to be much more enjoyable with some fun tunes to cook to.”

“Oh, um, n-not at all. What sort of music is it?”

“You’ll see~,” mom adds, shooting a coy wink my way. Yup. She’s doing it alright.

I roll my eyes and sigh in response. She knows I can’t stand her old people music. She insists the seventies and eighties weren’t that long ago, but I have to disagree. Music from before I was born has no place in a modern kitchen. Nevertheless, the infuriatingly catchy melody forces me to hum along.

Back in the kitchen, I notice Hanako mouthing the words while she scores what looks like several chicken fillets and inserts some kind of herb into the gash. Mom, too, sings along, albeit audibly. Mom’s singing is usually pretty good, actually, but oh God is it embarrassing right now.

The vocal taboo broken, Hanako joins mom in letting her voice be heard. Did I say mom’s singing was pretty good? Hanako’s voice makes mom’s singing sound as bad as mine. Hanako hits all the highs with perfection, and belts out the choruses with passion.

At the same time, she slices, dices, fries – no, sautés – and grills various meals into existence. The smell wafting from the kitchen is as infuriatingly tempting as the foreign pop music blasting from the cassette player. So much for a Jack of all trades being a master of none.

I guess I was partly right with all of the silly nicknames I suggested at the beach. ‘Hanako Ikezawa, the mighty Iron Chef-slash-rough ‘n’ tough pop-rock princess of Yamaku Academy!’ Man, what a mouthful. She certainly seems in her element, though. ‘Hanako at her Hanakoest,’ Rin would say.

In due time, the sounds from the kitchen die down as the dishes are completed, and shortly thereafter the cassette reaches its end. Aww. I mean, thank God.

I look with eager eyes as mom and Hanako bring over the assortment of concoctions. There is definitely too much here for two young women and one seventies dinosaur to consume. Hanako explains what exactly it is they’ve made, but it’s full of foreign words again and amounts to something like ‘seasoned chicken breast with saucy vegetables; chilli-flavoured rice, meat and vegetable mush; and unwrapped chicken burrito’.

All of it is delicious. And fattening. But delicious. Oh, Hanako, why must you tempt me so? I’m gonna have to run double to run this dinner off as well. And yet, I can’t help but shovel more and more of the gourmet grub into my gob. I notice Hanako staring at my piggish eating habits, and smile through a mouthful of food, causing her to giggle.

Despite my valiant efforts, quite a bit of food remains uneaten by the time we’re done. Mom packs the leftovers into several plastic containers, and we settle down to make some room for dessert. A rumbling in my belly takes me by surprise, and I involuntarily let out an ear-shattering burp. The silence that follows only lasts a few seconds before mom and Hanako burst into laughter.

“Goodness, it sounds like you enjoyed yourself, dear,” mom sputters between giggles.

“It’s a compliment! It was pretty awesome, after all. Hanako, what did you say that rice thing was called again? It was damn good.”

“It’s called p-paella. It’s a Spanish dish… but I added m-my own ideas as well.”

“Well, you’ve got some great ideas, then. I’m glad you made it.”

Hanako blushes and a small, prideful smile emerges on her face.

“Th-thanks. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Now, dears, let’s not forget who the head chef was~,” mom teases.

“Ah shaddup mom, you spent more time singing than cooking.”

“Ohoho maybe, but I did most of the preparation!”

“Yeah, on a recipe that Hanako wrote.”

“You should be more appreciative of your mother.”

“You should be more appreciative of our guest.”

I gesture towards Hanako for effect. I notice she looks something between confused and scared at our teasing debate. Mom follows my gaze and takes note as well, before repeating the dismissive hand wave from before.

“Oh pish posh, you know I kid.”

She turns to address Hanako, hand covering her mouth as if to prevent me from hearing, even though she makes no such effort.

“Never you mind, sweetheart. Something you should know about Emi is that she likes to get into silly debates with people.”

“Hey! Mom! No way! You’re always the one that starts it…”

“Don’t listen to her, Hanako, she’s a born liar.”

“Oh, sure… just another thing I get inherited from you.”

“Now that’s just nonsense. I’ll have to have a talk to the nurse about corrupting my daughter.”

Unable to think of a witty comeback, I resort to crossing my arms, sticking my tongue out, and muttering ‘ass’ under my breath. Hanako giggles heartily at my defeat, to which I roll my eyes. In the kitchen, a light ‘ding’ signals the timer in the oven elapsing. Hanako hops out of her chair and skips over to it to remove whatever goodies lie within. Smiling with an comparitively large grin, she holds out a tray full of some kind of chocolate pastries.

“S-so, who’s ready for dessert?”

First | Next

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Lord almighty this is sickly sweet. Yuck. Nah, I kid. It's alright. Much better than that grimdark nonsense from nearly two weeks ago. But, it presents a problem for me. It's a sequel to a oneshot. Dafuq do I call that? A twoshot? And where do I put it on my contents page? Grr, this is annoying. I think I've done it right. If anyone has a better arrangement, please tell me.

Anyway, this took so long because I had to rewrite it. It started going sadfic shortly after Emi and Hanako arrived at the former's house. It could have worked, maybe, but I got stuck for several days writing it and decided to scrap the idea. Instead, you guys get some delicious foodfic. Also I'm thinking about a part three. Maybe. Not sure where it would go just yet, but I'm kinda conflicted about whether or not to make it lewd. I guess it all depends on what I end up writing. Until then, cya!

[Carighan]

Aw, that's an adorable little story. Did you try to make up for the previous one?

Really cool though. I like how Rin got caught already eating.

[MutilatedManequin]

On three everyone.
1
2
3
Daaaaaaaaw
Great story. I couldn't even read that cried wolf story. Either way, well done.

[ChaosWolf]

Dammit, now I'm hungry. Fics shouldn't do that. Especially when I lack the ingredients and time (and talent) to try and make some of those dishes.

[Mirage_GSM]

Seated at the left side of the table, and dressed in some pretty flattering dark pyjamas, is the blonde amazoness, Lilly Satou.

Amazoness? Really?