Seems I keep getting an absurd percentage of reads on this site. While a small one its 'popular' section definitely strokes my ego.
Obviously I need to take into account that I receive next to no readers elsewhere.
I'll return with a new chunk from Wingman Blues here soon.
If you were transported from this world to another almost identical. If you were transported from your life to your teenage self. If you had to restart your life again. Would you, or would you cling to your memories?
Thursday, 1 October 2015
Saturday, 26 September 2015
Chapter one (segment nine), 2016, September, Ulf
Ryu's delivery
had been beyond expectations. Not only was the fight between 5:2 and
3:1 resolved, but they had gained another ten students from 9:1, and
with that Ulf's remaining staffing problems dissolved.
He smiled
remembering Ryu's heads up. Apparently a girl in their middle school
with fantastically bad taste in boys had nurtured a crush on him
before he was expelled. It was a little flattering, and he wasn't
above feeling his self esteem rising a bit.
Maybe Christina
wouldn't think it was that fun, even though he trusted her to be
mature enough to laugh it away in the end.
Probably.
They hadn't been
able to share all that much time together since the night he spent in
her apartment. By any normal standards they should have been lovers
by now, but that night they only slept together just as they had done
at the resort her grandfather ran together with his wife.
There was no
mistaking why she called him over, but when he got there he was just
too emotionally drained to do anything, and in a way he valued her
closeness more than sex.
Ulf rehashed that
evening as he had done several times by now. They slept together and
nothing else but was that what she wanted? Had she wanted more, and
if so was she angry with him now?
Gah, I'll just
ask her when we meet. No point in worrying on my own. This was
one occasion where fifty was much better than sixteen. Knowing that
in order to avoid misunderstandings actually talking things over was
a perfectly acceptable solution.
When he had been
sixteen the first time talking something specific over hadn't been
the main problem. Talking with a girl at all had been. He spent his
two first years in high school with his tongue perpetually glued to
the back of his mouth whenever a girl approached too close.
Third year less
so after a second year took a fancy to him and tired of waiting. She
made him her boyfriend with all the finesse and subtlety of a
stereotypical caveman. She crowned her whirlwind campaign by kicking
in the door to his classroom mid lecture, declaring she had come for
her boyfriend and frenched him before he had a chance to rise from
his chair.
Ulf grinned at
the memory. It only lasted a little over a year, but before they grew
apart she had reshaped him into a very different person.
His first. There
was something about firsts.
“Hamarugen-san?”
He shook the
memories away and turned to look for whoever had spoken to him.
“Hamarugen-san?”
A junior from the
liberal arts section, but which class he couldn't tell. “Sorry, I
spaced out a bit, what can I help you with?”
“We're the
Latin seafood stall.”
Ulf dug up his
phone and made a search. “The grill?”
“Yeah. There's
a problem. We wondered if we could extend the barbecue instead. We
could use the stall for sales only.”
There's no way
they came up with this on their own. They're not club members
so no one told them to think independently. “Who told you to
ask me?”
The junior
pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. Behind him Ulf saw Christina
talking frantically into her headset while still making time to wave
at him.
“Fine, we'll do
so. Get your grills out of the booth and set it up at one end of the
two lines.” Ulf drew a quick sketch on the ground with the two
lines of grills and where he wanted the last two set up at one end.
“Got it?”
He received a nod
in return, and the junior returned to make the changes.
Christina. I
should have known. But Ryu's getting damn good at this as well so
it could have been him. Ulf started walking towards
Christina. If nothing else he could get a hug and a kiss from her
before they were swamped with more work.
He made it
halfway to her.
“Hamarugen-san?”
What's up this
time? The girl looking up at him was a complete stranger. “How
can I be of assistance?” Not much point in pretending I don't
know she's looking for help.
“I'm from the
tea club and we've been told to cooperate with the espresso stall.”
“Yes?” How
bloody hard can it be?
“We don't know
how. Just because both stalls serve hot drinks we're not the same.”
Ulf looked over
her shoulder to where Christina still stood. She threw him an ironic
smile and waved to let him know she'd wait for him a bit longer.
“OK, split down
the middle.”
When he saw her
face mimic a question mark he pulled out the umbrella he had used
just moments earlier.
“Like this,”
Ulf said and drew two boxes on the ground. “You're organised in two
groups like this at the moment. Split each group in two this way and
merge the two halves. Got it?”
She nodded
understanding.
“Each new group
continues planning like before, but this time both groups will have
knowledge about serving tea as well as coffee. Should solve your
problem.”
The freshman
girl, because her uniform gave away that she was one, gave him an
uncertain look as if she couldn't believe such a simple solution
would do any good.
“Trust me on
this. If it doesn't work you can always come back. OK?”
“Thank you
Hamarugen-san,” she said.
He was about to
leave her when she suddenly tugged at his shirt sleeve. Ulf looked up
and saw Christina glaring at the girl, and just then she let go.
“Anything
more?” he asked, but she shook her head and ran away.
When he started
walking to Christina he saw how she had already made the distance to
him. Amused worry played over her face, and Ulf had an inkling of an
idea what it was about.
“Sorry about
that,” he said to Christina, “but I don't do two girls at the
same time so you don't have to worry.” But isn't that a lie?
Isn't this cheating on Maria?
She smirked. “I
hope you understand that 'doing' a girl means something else.
Besides, you all that certain she was going to confess?”
So you didn't
catch up on my lie? “You glared. If I wasn't sure before I was
after that.” It wasn't a topic he wanted to spend time on. Instead
he drew her close and let go of all thoughts. Her arms around his
back and her body pressed against his was all that mattered.
I can never
get enough of this. If I didn't know how much I'd hurt your dreams
I'd declare my love for you from the rooftop for the entire school to
hear. He knew he wasn't in the
clear yet, but at least admitting to himself that there were two
women in his heart meant he was moving forward another tiny step.
“Ulf,” she
murmured into his shirt. “do you have some free time around two pm
day after tomorrow?”
Reluctantly he
let go of her. There was something in her eyes, like she had thought
something over and made a decision. If it's important for you.
“If you need me at two pm I'll make time.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He was rewarded
with a smile that almost made his heart stop.
Wednesday, 23 September 2015
Chapter one (segment eight), 2016, September, Christina
It was abusing her position, but
with so little time left she had no choice. A call to the old goat
secured the approval of involving Uniclo in the fashion show.
Christina didn't tell him she'd call her agency as well. He didn't
need to know that.
That was her
second planned phone call, but before she could make it her phone
rang.
Amaya?
“Christina here.”
“Hello, there's
something I need to talk with you about.”
What's up now?
I don't like that voice. “Yes. I'm a bit busy right now.”
“I'll make it
short. Could you please not invite Urufu over to your place any
more.”
What the fuck!
“Eh, I don't understand.” Christina felt panic rising in her.
She's supposed to be on our side.
“I'd really
prefer if you broke up with him, but I understand you wouldn't listen
to that anyway. So I'm placing a curfew on Urufu instead.”
Christina stared
at her phone. The call was off. She had punched it off without
thinking. We have so little time together already, and now this.
Why? Why would you want to hurt us this way?
Tears came to her
eyes. They did so easily, and they would as long as she was still a
teen if she could believe that doctor whom Nakagawa had brought to
the beach. There was little reason to believe anything else. She had
been something of a crybaby when she was a teenager the first time.
Still, that call
had been blunt to the degree of idiocy. A frontal assault like that
was guaranteed to be met by resistance, so why hadn't Amaya been more
sly instead of behaving like a pre-teen bully?
It was an
important question, but it was one she just didn't have the time to
handle right now. Later she'd talk with Ko-chan and maybe cry a
little more, but now she needed to get a fashion show running from
scratch with only hours to play with.
Then her phone
rang again. Unknown number? “Ageruman Kuritina,” she said
in the Japanese way.
“My name is
Alice Kerringer. I'm calling from Uniclo concerning our autumn
launch,” a voice said in English.
“Yes?”
“We're going
live today. We've been in contact with your agency, but they told us
to call you directly. We're interested in an event, but as you're
still a high school student we got the impression there might be some
scheduling issues.”
For the second
time in a day Christina stared at her phone. Now that's what I
call superb timing. “Yes, but I was just about to call you
about a problem we have.” She sat down on the floor uncaring that
her skirt would probably be stained from her doing so.
“Yes?” Now it
was the other side's turn to ask that question.
“Ms Kerringer,
our cultural festival is about to start, and some jerks destroyed our
props for a fashion show.”
“Yes?”
Christina could hear the rise in interest through the phone.
“I've cleared
with our principal, and I was just about to call you to see if you
had any interest in sponsoring us. Thinking how close it was for the
launch and all that.”
“Ah, but we
wouldn't want to seem partial to one school.”
Now that's
just haggling, and a poor start to boot. “Ah, ms Kerringer, the
finishing shoot was with students from here, so it would fit in
rather well. If I may say so.”
There was a short
delay. “If I understand those kind of events only run for a few
minutes. It's a lot of work for us for so small an audience.”
Got you now!
“There are two events. The second one is a beauty contest, and that
one should attract the interest of everyone for the duration of both
days.”
Once more there
was a delay of hesitation. The Kerringer person probably spoke with
someone else right now. This was the final part of negotiations, and
anyone downplaying Christina Agerman when it came to negotiations
usually didn't last long in business. Or hadn't in her previous life.
“Unless we can
have a camera crew there I don't see the use for us.”
You're way too
easy to read. “That's cleared as well,” Christina lied. “The
original plan was for my agency to sponsor the event with stock
clothing, but I understand why they asked you to call me directly
now.”
And that was
about as far from the truth as possible, but Christina knew her
agency would prostrate themselves and cry hallelujah, or whatever
people in Japan cried, at the opportunity for a public display
together with a local behemoth like Uniclo.
“We're not
paying any fees.”
“Of course not.
This is a school event after all. I'm doing this in my role as club
president, but we would really like to be able to display your autumn
line before it's in the stores.”
And that was
another lie. Uniclo sold clothes about as sexy as Chag had done the
last years, which was to say cheap and not sexy at all. Maybe not
entirely a lie after all. It would be clothes that weren't available
at the shops yet, and that counted for a lot.
Christina sealed
the deal over the phone, and after that she quickly placed a call to
her agency. She almost heard the hallelujah cries over the phone, and
with that their show was on track again.
Now it was the
matter of scheduling her models. All of them. Especially the one who
didn't have a clue he'd be forced on-stage.
While her fame
was about to explode, she had already experienced it once. Whether
she would become a national icon again or not was uncertain, but for
the coming three months she'd become one of the most famous faces in
Japan.
Ulf however
didn't understand how fast his own fame was rising. Sure it was
contained to Himekaizen only, but for all practical purposes their
school was their world, and Christina planned to make her claim on
him very, very, very public. Public enough to make certain it
wouldn't be contained to their school any longer.
Amaya's call
scared her, and it angered her, and it made her decide to put Ulf on
the stage together with her. No one had the right to break them up.
If their relationship broke down it should because of their own
faults.
With new
determination Christina punched Ko-chan's number. Amaya's call still
made her need to cry a little.
Sunday, 20 September 2015
Chapter one (segment seven), 2016, September, Ryu
Normally he would
have flirted a bit more with the girls from 9:1. They kind of knew
each other from earlier after all, but at the moment he needed them
to help out with the chaos 5:2 and 3:1 were responsible for.
Of course he
couldn't help flirting a little. He was the prince of Himekaizen
after all, just as he had been the prince of Red Rose half a year
earlier. Right now he used the latter knowledge ruthlessly. As long
as the newly transferred girls believed they had more right to his
attention because they had shared middle school with him they were
prepared to help him with his plans.
When his phone
blared alive he left it on speakers on purpose.
“Ryu here, what
do you want Urufu?”
“Some shit
happened to our props. Christina's on it but I'm sending Yukio over
to the gym to help out as well. He has to help out with the play
anyway.”
Ryu stared at his
phone. From around him he could see the girls giving him questioning
looks. “OK? Noriko's tied up with sponsors for the rest of the day.
I'm kind of busy myself.”
There was a
muffled sound from the phone. Is he laughing? “Stop picking
up girls already!” Oh, no the bastard can see me from wherever
he is. He's helping me.
Ryu understood
he'd been given a que, but he wasn't exactly clear what it was. While
their friendship had grown rapidly the last month he still couldn't
communicate by silent magic the way Yukio and Urufu sometimes seemed
to do. He had to play the cards he had been given by heart.
“Hard to
avoid,” he started. “I'm with the only good Red Rose had to
offer.”
The girls closest
to him giggled with pleased amusement, and a couple of them blushed
as well.
“With you
saying that I assume you're dating a full length mirror right now.”
Now it was his
turn to blush. Bastard! Then he laughed. “Wall mounted,
Urufu. Wall mounted or it would be too small.”
“Yea yea, leave
the toilet and get out here.”
So he's
pretending he can't see me. OK means I'm playing it right. “No
need. I'm with the only real roses from my middle school.”
That bought him
more than a few gasps and shouts of admiration.
Above him the sky
had clouded over, but there would be no rain for the length of the
festival. He gave the clouds some more stares while he pretended to
think about what Urufu had said.
“Ryu, can you
handle your side of this. I had a chat with Christina and I need to
get some extra funding to set up a couple of unplanned stalls.”
What's going on?
“Sure, I can handle things here. At least with the help of girls I
can trust.” And there he played the final card given to him by
Urufu.
Ryu only needed a
glance around him to see that they had bought it all. It wasn't fair,
and it was a bit underhanded. Just like Urufu had taught him to work
when time was of essence.
“Superb, I knew
I could count on anyone leaving that hell hole,” Urufu said and
sealed the deal. With 9:1 you could trust their almost fanatical
hatred of Red Rose.
They closed the
call and Ryu drew a deep breath. We're building an army here.
There's going to be a showdown sooner or later, but I don't know what
kind of war Urufu is planning for.
It was time to
focus on the problem closest at hand instead. Ryu turned and shot the
girls his most charming smile. “I have a small problem with my own
class and some juniors. Would you mind helping me?”
“Sure, what is
it?” It was a girl from what had been 9 – C or 9 – D in middle
school, he couldn't remember which. Cute but not exactly a beauty.
Bright though, and he wondered why she hadn't transferred to Irishima
High instead.
He looked at her
eyes. She bought absolutely nothing of that call, but she's still
playing along. Maybe I've got an ally here. “The
juniors wanted an outdoor cos-play café here, but they don't want to
handle dishes. I need to use some of my classmates for the dishes and
they resent it.”
“We transferred
here too late for festival planning. I'm sure my classmates would
want to take part in anything you need us for,” she said and
confirmed his hope.
“Urufu wants an
international cuisine food plaza, and with some extras waiting tables
I'm certain we could promise everyone handling dishes some slots
waiting tables in fancy clothes and get some spare time as well.”
She looked at
him. “Urufu? There was one delinquent in Red Rose who was caught
fighting...”
Ryu laughed.
“It's him, but he never was a delinquent.” He looked at her
again. “He's running the show, and trust me, he's very good at it.”
“Funny. Guess
that's why he turned down patrolling the festival grounds then.”
So the rumours
about the thugs are true then. “Patrolling?” Ryu asked to
confirm his suspicion.
They had almost
arrived at the centre of the local problem before she answered. “Yea.
The student council wanted some help and asked some of my classmates
they believed were suited to the task.”
Suited to the
task. Damn, you're almost as cold hearted as Urufu. “And you
just remembered Urufu being expelled from Red Rose?”
She blushed a
little at that. With a smirk she turned around an almost finished
stall and waited for him. “No, no I didn't.”
Aww, shit! Not
another one? And he doesn't even try the way I do. Ryu grinned
and beckoned one of the juniors from 5:2 to him. “So what brought
him to your attention?” It wasn't very nice of him to ask that
question, but with the festival about to start he couldn't afford any
hidden friction between the members of his staff.
“I had a crush
on him, but he didn't know any Japanese so I didn't know how to
approach him,” she admitted.
Good thing you
didn't. I'm sure he was still in love with that lost wife of his a
year ago. But I can't tell you that. Suddenly Ryu felt awkward.
“He's going out with Kuri now.”
“Kuri?” And
it was as if a glimmer of hope had died in her eyes.
Sorry, but I'm
going to extinguish it once and for all. “Ageruman-san. She's
from Sweden as well. You don't stand a chance, and I wouldn't root
for you anyway, because they're both my friends.” It was harsh, but
he didn't have time for anything else.
She threw a hand
to her mouth. “Ageruman-san? The model?”
“Yeah. There's
nothing coming between those two,” he said. And with those words he
slowly started to accept that it was time for him to move forward as
well, just as his sister had done.
Tuesday, 15 September 2015
Chapter one (segment six), 2016, September, Kyoko
“What do you mean with ripped?”
Kyoko asked.
“Someone broke into our club room and ripped apart the clothes we were supposed to use for the fashion show.”
Kyoko sighed. This started to look just like what had happened to Kuri-chan early January this year. It had been their last term at middle school, and not everyone appreciated how beautiful the tall and skinny girl had become.
“Envious idiots?” Kyoko asked no one in particular. She got no response, not even from Midori-chan who had just reported the vandalism burglary. “OK, I'll have Kuri-chan handle it,” Kyoko said.
Bur first of all she needed to calm down a scared club member. She might look like a gorilla with that awful hairdo, but Midori-chan was just as scared and fragile as any other girl.
Any other person, Urufu and Kuri-chan would have said. They were kind of funny that way refusing to accept the normal differences between men and women. Sometimes she admired them for it. Sometimes they were just a major pain.
Kyoko scrolled up her call history and punched the fifth last number. It should have been either the last or the second one these days. Yukio's normally competed for the other slot, but now things were strained between Kuri-chan and her,.and they hadn't spoken much lately.
She quickly told Kuri-chan what had happened. There was a certain relief in hearing her friends voice, but right now she would have preferred seeing Kuri-chan face to face. After the call Kyoko walked down the stairs to make her way to the gym hall. There had been a rescheduling and for all effective purposes they now had to run the fashion show both days instead of only once.
Some third years with a lot of clout had forced a beauty contest. An embarrassing misunderstanding of the American style prom queen and king, Noriko had said.
Above her she heard running steps. She knew those steps. Kuri-chan must have been running since she got the call. She did a lot of running between the festival planning room and the two events the cultural club was involved in.
At least 3:1 weren't involved with anything that Urufu didn't handle himself with that monstrous planning brain of his. Kyoko wondered how he kept up with it. 6:1 had a play to prepare, the club had both the fashion show and the barbecue area and on top of it all another full twenty stalls from several classes depended on him by now.
She sighed and took a few more steps. More carefully now after she had experienced falling down them. With a bit of guilt Kyoko realised she would have preferred if it had been Yukio's steps running down the stairs from above, but he covered Urufu's back, and Urufu had already gained a hero's aura as a demon organiser. He was being swamped with requests, and thus she and Yukio got very little time for each other during school hours.
“Ko-chan!”
Kyoko turned her head upwards and nodded to Kuri-chan as she bounced down the stairs. “Yo!” she greeted her blond friend.
“Yo! That was some time ago.”
It had been. A year or so. Both Kuri-chan's Japanese and English had been littered with stereotypical American slang during their early days of friendship. Friendship. The word made Kyoko's chest constrict.
“Going to the gym?”
“Yeah,” Kyoko said. They really needed to talk.
Kuri-chan suddenly grabbed both her arms. “Ko-chan, about everything. I'm sorry.” Her face was painted with worry and guilt.
“You're an arse.” Kyoko wasn't prepared to forgive her friend just yet.
“I'm sorry.”
“You're an insensitive moron.” And venting her frustration helped a little.
“I'm sorry.”
“You're an arrogant bastard.” But that was also an important part of Kuri-chan, and it had become a part of their friendship.
“I'm sorry.”
“You're my best friend.” Because in the end she really was, no matter what happened between them.
“I'm sorry.”
“What the hell...” Then Kyoko saw the guilty grin splitting her friend's face in two. “You're hopeless,” Kyoko said and shook her head.
“I'm sorry,” Kuri-chan answered and let go of one arm. Only one arm. She hugged the other to herself, and Kyoko found herself escorted through corridor, cafeteria, under the sails and all the way to the gym hall.
It didn't bother her at all. Kuri-chan's stupid antics was a vast improvement over the last day's estrangement between them. But their friendship had changed. It could never again be as innocent as it had been earlier.
“So how do you plan to solve the clothes?” Kyoko asked as they entered.
They had to navigate some props for one of the bands that was going to perform during the festival. And by the scene she saw some freshmen from 6:1 working on the set to their play, but Yukio wasn't among them.
Kuri-chan held her answer while they made their way through the impromptu obstacle course. “I'll handle it with the agency, but there's another solution as well. I'll ask the old goat first,” she said when they were through.
There's only one more student in the school who'd dare to refer to Principal Nakagawa as the old goat, but only Kuri-chan would get away with it. “Ask Principal Nakagawa about what?” Kyoko asked and acknowledged the livestock referral.
“Remember the fashion shoot last month?”
Kyoko pretended to study the students from 6:1. “Yeah.” Not that she had taken much part in those shoots. She didn't have the looks for it, and she knew Kuri-chan would only grow even more beautiful in the years ahead.
“Should be about time for Uniclo to launch that line about now. And the shoot ended up with a high school beach party special.”
Oh, you meant the last one when all of us were invited? “Yeah?”
“All club members are from this school. I think I can get them to sponsor a Himekaizen special, because it would tie in with that last evening.”
The answer confirmed her unspoken question and Kyoko could see why that would need a green light from the headship.
“Someone broke into our club room and ripped apart the clothes we were supposed to use for the fashion show.”
Kyoko sighed. This started to look just like what had happened to Kuri-chan early January this year. It had been their last term at middle school, and not everyone appreciated how beautiful the tall and skinny girl had become.
“Envious idiots?” Kyoko asked no one in particular. She got no response, not even from Midori-chan who had just reported the vandalism burglary. “OK, I'll have Kuri-chan handle it,” Kyoko said.
Bur first of all she needed to calm down a scared club member. She might look like a gorilla with that awful hairdo, but Midori-chan was just as scared and fragile as any other girl.
Any other person, Urufu and Kuri-chan would have said. They were kind of funny that way refusing to accept the normal differences between men and women. Sometimes she admired them for it. Sometimes they were just a major pain.
Kyoko scrolled up her call history and punched the fifth last number. It should have been either the last or the second one these days. Yukio's normally competed for the other slot, but now things were strained between Kuri-chan and her,.and they hadn't spoken much lately.
She quickly told Kuri-chan what had happened. There was a certain relief in hearing her friends voice, but right now she would have preferred seeing Kuri-chan face to face. After the call Kyoko walked down the stairs to make her way to the gym hall. There had been a rescheduling and for all effective purposes they now had to run the fashion show both days instead of only once.
Some third years with a lot of clout had forced a beauty contest. An embarrassing misunderstanding of the American style prom queen and king, Noriko had said.
Above her she heard running steps. She knew those steps. Kuri-chan must have been running since she got the call. She did a lot of running between the festival planning room and the two events the cultural club was involved in.
At least 3:1 weren't involved with anything that Urufu didn't handle himself with that monstrous planning brain of his. Kyoko wondered how he kept up with it. 6:1 had a play to prepare, the club had both the fashion show and the barbecue area and on top of it all another full twenty stalls from several classes depended on him by now.
She sighed and took a few more steps. More carefully now after she had experienced falling down them. With a bit of guilt Kyoko realised she would have preferred if it had been Yukio's steps running down the stairs from above, but he covered Urufu's back, and Urufu had already gained a hero's aura as a demon organiser. He was being swamped with requests, and thus she and Yukio got very little time for each other during school hours.
“Ko-chan!”
Kyoko turned her head upwards and nodded to Kuri-chan as she bounced down the stairs. “Yo!” she greeted her blond friend.
“Yo! That was some time ago.”
It had been. A year or so. Both Kuri-chan's Japanese and English had been littered with stereotypical American slang during their early days of friendship. Friendship. The word made Kyoko's chest constrict.
“Going to the gym?”
“Yeah,” Kyoko said. They really needed to talk.
Kuri-chan suddenly grabbed both her arms. “Ko-chan, about everything. I'm sorry.” Her face was painted with worry and guilt.
“You're an arse.” Kyoko wasn't prepared to forgive her friend just yet.
“I'm sorry.”
“You're an insensitive moron.” And venting her frustration helped a little.
“I'm sorry.”
“You're an arrogant bastard.” But that was also an important part of Kuri-chan, and it had become a part of their friendship.
“I'm sorry.”
“You're my best friend.” Because in the end she really was, no matter what happened between them.
“I'm sorry.”
“What the hell...” Then Kyoko saw the guilty grin splitting her friend's face in two. “You're hopeless,” Kyoko said and shook her head.
“I'm sorry,” Kuri-chan answered and let go of one arm. Only one arm. She hugged the other to herself, and Kyoko found herself escorted through corridor, cafeteria, under the sails and all the way to the gym hall.
It didn't bother her at all. Kuri-chan's stupid antics was a vast improvement over the last day's estrangement between them. But their friendship had changed. It could never again be as innocent as it had been earlier.
“So how do you plan to solve the clothes?” Kyoko asked as they entered.
They had to navigate some props for one of the bands that was going to perform during the festival. And by the scene she saw some freshmen from 6:1 working on the set to their play, but Yukio wasn't among them.
Kuri-chan held her answer while they made their way through the impromptu obstacle course. “I'll handle it with the agency, but there's another solution as well. I'll ask the old goat first,” she said when they were through.
There's only one more student in the school who'd dare to refer to Principal Nakagawa as the old goat, but only Kuri-chan would get away with it. “Ask Principal Nakagawa about what?” Kyoko asked and acknowledged the livestock referral.
“Remember the fashion shoot last month?”
Kyoko pretended to study the students from 6:1. “Yeah.” Not that she had taken much part in those shoots. She didn't have the looks for it, and she knew Kuri-chan would only grow even more beautiful in the years ahead.
“Should be about time for Uniclo to launch that line about now. And the shoot ended up with a high school beach party special.”
Oh, you meant the last one when all of us were invited? “Yeah?”
“All club members are from this school. I think I can get them to sponsor a Himekaizen special, because it would tie in with that last evening.”
The answer confirmed her unspoken question and Kyoko could see why that would need a green light from the headship.
Saturday, 12 September 2015
Chapter one (segment five), 2016, September, Yukio
“I'm not
going to apologise.”
“I don't
expect you to,” Urufu said.
They sat under
the great sails outside the cafeteria. With only a day until the
cultural festival the place had seen a transformation from student
hangout to what looked like a festival area with almost finished
stalls.
On the other
side of the building, close to the soccer field, the international
food area was also nearing completion, and the two friends had taken
a short lunch break.
“You know,
Christina was in the wrong this time. I'm not going to defend her,”
Urufu said when Yukio didn't say anything.
It wasn't fair
to his friend being this stubborn, but Yukio just felt helpless when
Kyoko got hurt. “It's not your fault,” he started, “and I don't
want to say bad things about your girlfriend, but it's...”
“It is my
fault as well,” Urufu interrupted. “Christina's behaviour was out
of line, but I agree with her initial assessment.”
When did
you start learning Japanese words like that? “What do you
mean?” While Urufu's grasp of kanji was still awful his spoken
Japanese evolved faster than was decent.
“The
bullying has to stop. If we're going to fight Red Rose Hell we can't
afford this kind of shit on our own turf. Anyone try to screw you up
they have to be put down mercilessly.”
Yukio stared
at his friend. “That's harsh.”
“Uhum.”
Urufu took another bite of his atrocious noodle sub and swallowed it
as if it deserved to be called food. “Look, I didn't get to run a
company because I was so damned friendly with everyone. I've fired a
few arse holes, and once I made certain an idiot was blacklisted.
Illegal yes, but damn that got the attention of any wannabe racists.”
He can be
cold sometimes. “Didn't you get into trouble for that?”
“Hell yeah!
We had to pay a hefty fine, but the dick stayed blacklisted all the
same. Well worth it.”
Suddenly Urufu
laughed at the memory and Yukio stared at him again.
A few
students, mostly freshmen looked in their direction from the stalls
they were finishing.
Urufu played
in a totally different league. Not for the first time Yukio felt
inadequate. “Man, sometimes I just don't understand why you stick
around with me. I give you headaches and I'm just a school kid.”
The glare
Yukio got in return for his comment was devastating. “Don't you
ever ask that question again! I stick around because you're the
bloody best friend anyone could wish for. I stick around because you
stood up for me when doing so put yourself at risk. Fuck it Yukio!
I'm the one honoured to have a friend like you, not the other way
around!”
That was about
as close to a love confession Yukio had ever heard in his life. The
harsh sincerity in the words made his heart lurch even though he
instinctively understood there was only a deep sense of friendship
behind them.
“Sorry,”
he said.
“And don't
you bloody sorry me! Your girl got hurt and she's my friend as well.
At least to the degree she accepts my friendship. Worst case I'll
accept a one sided friendship crush on her if you get what I mean.”
Yukio thought
he did. Urufu had absolutely no romantic interest in his Kyoko, but
he valued those he considered his friends almost as much as he valued
Christina
“I wonder,”
Yukio said. “Sometimes I wish I could make you smile the way you
made me smile, but it's only Kuri who has that power. I'm a bit
jealous, you know, if you get my meaning man.” And that was for all
practical purposes a love confession of his own. Friendship was funny
that way. Two persons. Two he had found he was willing to risk
everything for.
Urufu lit up
in the grin that had made more than a few girls look twice after him
the last couple of months.
There's
nothing left of your try to be part of geek squad, but there's also
nothing left of the rebel kid from middle school. The thought was
sobering. Urufu must have grown back into the man he had been before
he arrived in Japan, even if he sometimes acted just as childishly as
Yukio and the others in the gang of friends.
“Look, I'll
talk with Christina. She wants to apologise anyway. Kyoko's important
to her. It's her best friend after all. Deal?”
“Deal,”
Yukio answered.
“Let's head
back to our area. The poor sods there don't know crap about
organising a large scale event.” With that Urufu gobbled down the
last of his bread and rose.
Yukio downed
his bottled tea and followed.
No one
knows crap about your kind of organising, he thought. Two thirds
of the club were grouped into three teams of six members each and
each team was given full responsibility of one third of the barbecue
area, including coordinating work with the other stalls there.
Another group worked with the fashion show and Urufu assigned three
of the most hard working members of the club to be what he called the
fire brigade.
That had come
in handy more than once during the planning and set-up.
Yukio shook
his head and followed Urufu to the barbecue area. From the almost
industrial planning and set-up it was clear to Yukio that management
consulting only played part of the part here. Urufu must have some
prior experience from setting up parties as well.
As they passed
into the area Yukio found himself surrounded by people with
questions. Most were from other stalls and he redirected them to
their respective culture club group just as Urufu had requested, but
a few were internal questions. Among other things something was awry
with the fashion show.
Thursday, 10 September 2015
Chapter one (segment four), 2016, September, Kyoko
The world spun
and someone rang with a hammer in her head.
“Will it
scar?” a voice asked.
Where am I?
“No, I don't
think so. She split an eyebrow, but I could tape it just fine.”
There were
curtains around her, and the voices came from the other side of them.
It hurts.
Why does it hurt? Kyoko tried to sit up, but she was too weak and
a feeling of being disgusting caught her all of a sudden. Leaning to
her side she retched, and for some time there was only the heaving
and the pain in her stomach.
When she came
to again familiar faces surrounded her bed. Somehow she had ended up
in the infirmary.
She saw a
Yukio she'd never seen before in her life, and a Kuri-chan smaller
than she could ever remember her friend having been.
“Happy now?
Desert her when she's assaulted and tell her you hate her when she
tries to help you? Just die you bitch!”
What is he
saying. Don't do that to Kuri-chan!
“I'm sorry.
It's all my fault.”
What's your
fault Kuri-chan? Something was
wrong with her. Kyoko felt it
even if she couldn't understand what had happened. It
was as if she was dreaming. I fell into the wall, she
remembered.
“Just shut
up and go to hell!”
Yukio, what
are you doing? Can't you see she's hurting?
“I'm
sorry...”
“I don't
want to hear you're sorry. You hurt my Kyoko so just go away and
die!”
Why are you
so angry with Kuri-chan, Yukio? Kyoko's head began
spinning again.
Someone
grabbed Yukio. Someone slapped him. Hard.
“Shut up!
She made a mistake, OK?”
Why
Hitomi-chan, why did you slap Yukio?
Watching Yukio
being hurt turned Kyoko's stomach all over again, and she bent to her
side and retched again.
“Leave her
you idiots! She has a concussion!”
What's
going on? Why is nurse angry? Darkness took her again.
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