Is your Desire the real thing?

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by ERode, Mar 25, 2015.

  1. [​IMG]
    [ Is your desire the real thing? ]
    It was an atypical Wednesday afternoon, in that, despite how winter was approaching, and how weather, overall, had been worsening, the sun shone brightly overhead. A rare, cerulean sky encompassed the town of Kirisama, a most auspicious sign for those living in this isolated town. Perhaps it was a single that the winter storms will be weaker this season? Perhaps even a winter without snow? Though the temperature itself was still a little too cool for people to go out in shorts and sandals, it was a refreshing sort of coolness, as if the last whiffs of spring passed through. Only a few clouds could be seen in the horizon, and, all in all, it looked like it would be a clear, pleasantly windy afternoon.

    As three different school bells chimed at three different parts of town, their rings mixing in a harmony of freedom that accompanied the end of a school day, students began to leave their classes for club activities or part-time work. Unlike schools in the mainland, there were no uniforms associated with those who went to Kirisama High, nor were club activities mandatory. Students had an extraordinary amount of free time to do as they saw fit, and like ants out to search for crumbs, they spread out into the rest of the town.

    The local Lawson, of course, was an increasingly popular place for social gatherings, especially amongst those who had moved to Kirisama recently. Convenient junk food WAS rather tasty, after all, though it always seemed as if the shelves were low in stock.

    Of course, the classier, more chic hangout, Boulangerie le Trefle, was also rather populated, students chatting over fancy faux-French pastries with names that they couldn't pronounce properly. While pricey, the food truck had the distinct advantage of having a nice view of the sea to accompany the food.

    Many students were scuttling about though on festival preparations for the month of October, known as the ‘Month of the Gods’. It was good part-time work, and an enjoyable experience for the more artistically inclined.

    Others stayed at school, partaking in club activities or extra lessons or simply to spend time with some random hottie teacher that they had a crush on.

    And then, there were people who simply went home, because they wanted to play video games, be anti-social losers, have no life study or help out around the house.​

    Needless to say, it was another peaceful day in Kirisama.

    The gray clouds began to drift landwards.​
  2. Jun ambled his way into the local Lawson. Among this herd of country bumpkins he felt like a city boy even if he wasn't. He was certainly the closest thing to one without actually being one. The attention he'd been getting at school was a bit out of the ordinary but it didn't faze him, so when a group of boys in his grade invited him to grab some junk food at the Lawson he calmly agreed as if he was allowing them the benefit of his presence. There was a fine line Jun always played on, a fine line between cockiness and confidence. He considered himself of the latter, but he was often perceived as the former. Either way, Jun Soda wouldn't care.

    The other boys walked straight towards the magazines near the pretty cashier lady, while June strolled through the few rows of available products. He wasn't looking for junk food because he took better care of himself than that, but he did have soft spot for hard candy on a stick.

    "Hey Soda! Check this out, is this what your hometown looks like?" yelled out one of the boys as he opened up a magazine to a picturesque city street.

    Jun raised his eyebrow in derision. What's-his-name was clearly using him to get the cashier's attention. "I thought you came to buy chips," he replied by changing the subject, but he'd just arrived at the candy section to continue paying any more attention to the guy. Jun looked at the limited selection and picked up three different flavors just as the boys joined him and picked some candy of their own.

    "Hand them over Soda, today's on me" said the boy with the most ridiculous haircut Jun had every seen on a 17 year old high schooler, but did as he was told anyways.

    The third boy was nothing but a pale stick and this one simply smiled at Jun as they followed mushroom-head to the counter. What's-his-name was already deep into his one-sided self-created black pit of flirting. How he'd managed to make the cashier giggle was beyond Jun's comprehension and the only reason he could think of was that the girl was silly in the head.

    "Here you go Soda, let's go eat this stuff out fro-"
    "And watch the pretty girls passing by hahaha!" interrupted what's-his-name as they walked out. Pale stick had already commandeered a spot for them and once more June raised his eyebrow in derision. Was he going to be alright?
  3. Hitomi Miho - LawsonIt was a peaceful day in Kirisama. The sun shone down on the small village from overhead, warming the chilly winter air. Birds sung from the balding trees, their melodious harmonies filling the air. It was a calm and gentle day that hung around the people of Kirisama like a living picture, as though it had been painted by an optimistic and cheerful artist, tired of the rain outside his window. It was all so picturesque, so ideal, so-

    The peace was cut short by the muffled ring of a cellphone, its catchy alert choked by the fabric of a homemade messenger bag, thrown carelessly over the red cotton clad shoulder of a tall, svelte figure, walking along the clean pavement of Kirisama at a leisurely pace. An inkstained hand dove into the bag, swimming aimlessly around a myriad of crumpled paper, dry pens and broken earphones in an attempt to retrieve the shrieking offender. Annoyed groans clashed against the chiming of the device as the hand continued to find nothing, until an air choked finger brushed against the cool plastic of the buzzing creature and the black and blue hand closed around it, pulling it out of the sea of trash with a final mutter. With a flick of a concealed wrist, the cheap flip phone flew open with a snap, and a voice began to call from inside.

    “Shit, what do you want Keiji?” A voice demanded tiredly, its owner leaning into her hip impatiently. The voice on the other end hummed into her ear loudly, in a language not unlike that spoken by the Japanese girl. “What? Fuck Kenji, chill out for a second.” The humming got louder, the poorly pronounced slang only slightly clearer to the exhausted girl. “For the last time, I’m not going to fucking buy you alcohol.” The girl said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of her pale nose with her free hand. The voice whined in protest, coming through the other side like a siren. “Because you’re a fucking minor, shit head.” The girl muttered, pausing to let the voice whine again. “Yes, but according to the fake ID in my bag I’m 20. Therefor I’m an adult.” The voice picked up in pitch, quivering like a bowstring from the other end. “Look, I don’t make the rules. I just skirt by them. Call me when you grow the fuck up, and maybe then I’ll get you something.” The voice quieted to a whimper, buzzing softly. “Yeah, whatever, shit head. Love you, fuck off.” The girl slammed the phone closed and tossed it back into her bag before continuing on her journey, a miffed expression on her sleep-starved face.

    After a few minutes of walking through the now shattered scene cast on Kirisama, the town Lawson soon came into view, rising above the horizon like a shining beacon of hope, saturated fats and diabetes. The wind picked up around the girl, lifting her thick, black hair behind her like a veil. Her mouth began to salivate as she thought of the treasures inside, like ¥100 coffee and cheap, bright boxes of onigiri, covered in layer upon layer of delicious and addictive preservatives.

    “Hey baby, where are you going?”

    Like a pin to a balloon, a loud and nasally voice popped Miho’s sugary sweet fantasy, a gust of wind carrying away the pieces, leaving behind the snickering of the group of boys beside the door. The girl stopped abruptly in front of the door, which slid open in front of her expectantly. She didn’t move, staring at the back wall of the Lawson’s quietly as the boy continued.

    “Yo, ama, come over here!” The boy called tauntingly, earning another chorus of snickers from his brain dead friends.

    The girl cocked her head to the side in irritation, her brown eyes narrowing. What had he just called her? With a swift movement, Miho turned and walked coolly up to the boy who had cat called her, a thin boy with a shit-eating grin and badly frosted tips, standing at the front of the group, the rest of his lackeys behind him, save one, who stood off to the side. She remembered the boy with the bleached hair as the asshole who tried to cop a feel in the hallway at school, pretending to trip and fall into her in a poor attempt to grope at her breast and running away before she could react.

    She looked into his eyes with a cutting stare, holding it for an uncomfortable length of time. Before he could open his mouth again, she brought her knee up with a violent but smooth jerk, smashing it into his crotch. Immediately his hands flew to his pants as he yelped and stumbled back before falling on the ground in pain. Some of his friends rushed to his aid while the others began to shout at the girl in indignation, but she paid them no mind, brushing her hair to the side with a smirk as she made her way into the Lawson.
    #3 Karo, Mar 28, 2015
    Last edited: Mar 28, 2015
  4. Sitting in last period Japanese History class, Takane Tatsuya let out a yawn as any normal, self-respecting high school student. The subject had been so over taught, and so incredibly dull that she found it to be a small miracle in itself that the can of coffee she had during lunch was able to keep up for the lectures of the last period class. Her energy had gradually dwindled over the course of the day, but at the sound of the school’s characteristic electronic bells signifying the end of the school day, Takane was out of that classroom faster than you could say Usain Bolt.

    In a few minutes’ time, she found herself in front of her lockers downstairs, after bravely fighting a losing battle over the swarming students in the hallway. Having put her street shoes on, she reached to grab her 3DS when a familiar figure appeared over her shoulder, putting an almost ominous shadow over her locker door. Looking over her shoulder with a tilted head, she greeted Keiko, one of her friends since middle school.

    You know, you should stop that before somebody thinks you’re a demon and decks you,” said Takane, closing the locker door. Keiko only smiled mischievously, waving a hand hidden under the sleeve of a knit teal sweater like a cat.

    “Oh yeah, didn’t Fujimori get his nose broken from a girl in class 3F that way?”

    “Yeah, it’s not like nobody saw it coming though,” replied Takane, with a shrug, following her friend out of the building. “Did you still need to go to Lawson’s? I’m free for the evening, for once.”

    Keiko’s eyes lit up. “Yep! I need to buy a gift card or something. My older cousin from Hokkaido is going to visit next week. Since he likes those Korean games a lot, I was going to get him a Nexon card.”

    “…Wait, Nexon is still a thing?”

    Reaching the local Lawson’s a few minutes later, the pair found themselves witnessing a scene of hilarity. The usual group of school delinquents were around, but they could see that one particularly rash boy had made the unfortunate decision of catcalling the wrong girl. It only took but a moment for him to receive a nuke to the nads, and in seconds, he was on the ground.

    “Wow,” said Takane, taking a picture.

    “Bravo,” added Keiko, not missing a beat.
  5. School was finally over, good, not like it mattered for Yuuko, the anti-social girl had spend most of the time doodling around anyways. It was always this last hour of math that she did that, she didn't particularly dislike math or anything, but for some strange reason, her teacher, Kiyoshi Sensei, had a goddamn fish head as some sort of replacement. It wasn't really that scary, even if the size of the head and the eyes were totally out of proportion, and the thick human like lip made it nearly look hilarious. But the small girl hated fish, and that despite being japanese...but it simply tasted after sea, and looking at Kiyoshi on this particular day in the week made her feel the taste of it as if she would have never ate anything else but raw fish, and not the usually good kind of raw.

    Whatever, it all didn't matter now, as the bells finally freed her from the fishy torture. There was no need for silly goodbyes and 30 minute long after school conversations for her, and her only best friend was in high school anyways, no, Yuuko wasted her time way more efficient, well, apart from thinking about very negative things regarding her class, like those dumb wannabe-divas and wannabe school idols or miss perfect, all of them were simply trash. Yuuko however, aimed for the Lawson today, not because she liked it there, way too many people, but more because she was running low on snacks, and running low on snacks was even worse than seeing everyone with a fish head.

    Getting close to it, another scene played itself out in front of her, giving the small group a good look. 'Oh look, another dumb bitch who gets hit on my dumb assholes, number of abortions...4? Her annoyed face however quickly lightened up as the woman actually turned out to be quite decent, fuck, if only she had boys hitting on her she could totally do the same, well, dumb apes can't realize true character. Whatever. Walking past the boys into the Lawson she whispered a humiliating. "Fail." as she was close enough.
  6. Jun had been standing to the side all the while. He watched as what's his name got what he asked for, what a noob. As the boy hit the floor he still had the gall to look at Jun with pleading eyes. Jun could not believe it, was the guy really expecting him to join the fray in some sort of ridiculous social heroics?! Jun looked away. How embarrassing.

    Pale stick and mushroom head rushed forward to help what's his name up. "That was uncalled for Hitomi!" called out mushroom head. Of course he knew her name, Jun thought, what girl chasing trio like them wouldn't? Typical country high schoolers thinking they can memorize names, throw a fish-line and expect a catch with such meager bait. Pale stick there seemed like the type that upon crashing into a girl would expect a budding romance.

    A picture was taken and another girl whispered something to them as she passed by. The whisper did it. Defeated, they walked back towards Jun; what's his name was limping.

    "Let's go sit over there Soda," mushroom head suggested weakly.

    Wide-eyed, Jun watched them step away to the foot of a nearby tree some distance form the Lawson entrance. "Don't act like the victims," he followed. "That was pathetic. I've never met anyone that seriously thought catcalling was effective," Jun mocked them. What he found even more appalling, was that the odd trio were looking at him like some prophet come from distant and unknown lands to enlighten them. Suddenly, Jun laughed. He cackled. At no point had he showed any camaraderie and yet he had them won.
    "She did go a bit overboard," Jun told them in an attempt to console. He had been rather rude, even if it was mostly done in his head.

    "No I..." said frosted tips, "I tried to touch her boobs some time ago," he confessed.

    Mushroom head shook his head and pale stick stared. For the third time that day Jun raised his eyebrow in derision. He tossed the lone paper stick now that the candy was gone and sighed, "I'll go get some ice." Jun stood up and walked back into the Lawson in disbelief.
  7. Hitomi Miho – LawsonThe protests of the pathetic crew muted by the heavy sliding doors of the Lawson, Miho walked to the back two shelves in peace, paying no attention to the girl who entered shortly after her. The particular aisle she had chosen was familiar to her, perhaps more familiar than it should be. It was packed full of colorful cardboard boxes of Ramen and microwave noodles, all stacked on top of each other in a more or less chaotic fashion. Miho browsed around for a moment, looking down the aisle at the red, then pink, then blue, then orange colored packages, all boasting quick and delicious noodle dinners. After musing over it for a few moments, Miho decided to make her own box, grabbing a virtually empty carton and shuffling sideways handfuls of each flavor into it. After she had gathered enough to fill the box, she moved on to the drink shelves near the left wall, but not before grabbing a package of onigiri as she passed the stand, placed at the end of the noodle aisle.

    She put her box down beside her feet and pulled the sleeve of her sweater over her hand before reaching for a can of hot coffee. The warmth of the drink radiated through the container and Miho’s makeshift mitt, effectively warming her chilled skin.

    Considering the area she was in seemed devoid of many people (nobody wants drinks today?), Miho sat down and made herself comfortable against the cool glass of the drink container next to the coffee shelf before pulling the box of Ramen to her. One at a time, she divided them into stacks of three, counting the total in her head as she did so. At some point in the process, Miho uncapped her coffee and took a swig of the hot, bitter drink, relishing the burning feeling it left in her mouth as it traveled down her throat and into her stomach.
    #7 Karo, Mar 30, 2015
    Last edited: Mar 30, 2015

  8. The interior of Lawson was nostalgic, almost out of place in the town of Kirisama, with its linoleum floors and its bright, fluorescent lights. Despite the fact that it was almost October, and the balmy summer temperatures had long gone, air conditioning was still active within the store, keeping it at a chill 20 degrees Celsius. Aisles were filled with snack foods, fridges stacked with Haagen Daaz and its inferior imitations, and, resting beside the cashier on the counter, was a rectangular holy grail. Within its glass display rested a variety of fried foods, from deep-fried takoyaki to karaage, from squid to chow mein, each resting in a metallic tray. A variety of seasonings were stacked up in front of the display, no doubt for the use of customers after purchasing their high-calorie, low-nutrition meals.

    As Jun Soda, messiah of virgin hicks everywhere, entered, he’d notice two things. First, the only other noteworthy customer of Lawson, Miss Nutcracker, was casually drinking something she hadn’t yet paid for. Second, the cashier, a girl with pink hair and green eyes, greeted him with a nod and a ‘Welcome’, before going about her business of watching the coffee-drinker.

    Dare he attempty to get Hitomi’s phone number and bruise what’s-his-name’s ego further? Or will he choose to fetch a bag of ice instead, to alleviate the throbbing in what’s-his-name’s bruised balls?

    Find out next round, in ‘Is your Desire the real thing?’!
    • Love Love x 1
  9. Jun casually stepped in nodding at the pink haired cashier in reply to her mandatory welcome. He caught her looking at Mis Nutcracker drinking an unpaid for drink, and smoothly said, "what a naughty girl that one." He smiled and shook his head, his eyes on the girl's as if the cashier and him were on the same team uniting in disapproval of a rival.

    He kept walking, his path clearly leading towards the ice up until he whispered, "fuck it," and sharply turned towards the hot drinks.

    "Hitomi is it?" he asked from behind, "that's what I heard mushroom head call you, but I'm not sure I trust that source." Jun walked up next to her, both hands in his pockets, and concentrated on selecting a drink.

    "Frosted tips says he tried coping a feel," he chuckled as he reached for canned green tea and quickly put it back only to grab it again using his sweater sleeve as a glove. He turned to smile at Hitomi as he did this, after all, she'd given him the idea. Buying canned stuff was something Jun never did, so he turned the can to quickly look at its nutrition guide before he decided the thing passed the test.

    "What an idiot. I don't know him very well, but for what it's worth I apologize on his behalf. Perhaps I've made a mistake in sharing my number with the first people to be friendly with me." He turned and made a move to go pay at the counter but turned last minute and added, "ah, by the way I'm Jun Soda. Nice to meet you," and extended his hand towards Hitomi.

    Jun was being rather nice. He was also being less judgmental than usual, but that was expected. He tended to be kinder to the opposite sex.... up to a point. Once in a while a girl would appear that would break all the rules and thereby stop being a girl in Jun's eyes.
  10. Yuu found the delicious sweets she wanted to buy rather fast, Pocky, that was all the youngest needed to calm her soul and heart. And just as she was about to grab them, the girl heard one of the boys, who followed into the store, speaking up, if not even hitting, on the nutcracker. Seriously? Wow, just wow. What a cunt. This kinda pissed her off, hopefully Hitomi, as she was apparently called, would increase her score to two. Whatever the case was, observing those two with their dumb drinks made Yuyu rather thirsty too. The question was, did she even have enough money on her? A simple check of her wallet revealed a rather unsatisfying result.


    If not being capable of buying the drink wasn't enough, she had, in fact, not even enough for her sweets. For a moment Yuuko considerd just leaving the shop without any guilt...but why? The big man behind this dumb chain was most likely rich enough, some fatass that had to compare his dick with other fatasses via some silly shit like expensive cars, one car equalling one inch or something. Really, if anything, she was a rebel, a hero of the poor, but ultimately, just some dumb excuses she tried to calm herself with. Stealing with a serious crime after all, but fuck it. It was simple, no? Thanks to Hitomi who grabbed the entire attention of the cashier Yuuko would have easy game! Good Job Senpai!

    Apart from those countless eyes in varying sizes and forms that appeared on the ceiling, ground and whatnot, Yuuko was pretty sure no one looked into her direction as she let the small package slip into her pocket. Now, all that was left was walking out of the store completely normal, which also meant she had to put a smile up. Hopefully, she didn't look too awkward.
  11. The pair stepped over the fallen the boy, making the best out of the obstruction of the Lawson’s automatic door. Naturally, they had no sympathy for such a pathetic loser, but they didn’t really wish to stoop to his level, so they were polite enough in going about it. Giving a wave to the cashier at the front of the convenience store, Takane turned towards the magazine isle with Keiko, where most of the gift card stuff was.

    “What would you do if some asshole did the same to you?” asked the silver-haired girl as she reached for a magazine. “I think I’d hit him with my bow.”

    Her friend was on tiptoes, reaching for a card just barely within her reach. Pulling the giftcard off its hook, flipped into the air, but Keiko nimbly plucked the card from the air before it fell with a triumphant ‘aha!’

    “Eh? You’d break your bow. You know how good I am with shittalking. There's no need for violence! It’d be so bad that he’d be crying home to his mom.”

    Takane made a pained face; she didn’t doubt it. There no other person that could deliver a more stinging series of insults than this person right before her. It was indeed not wise to cross her, and she could only be glad that she was a friend and not an enemy.

    It was an unspoken tradition among her circle that they would nearly always gets drinks while in a convenience store, so without particularly acknowledging so, they moved towards the rows of refrigerators towards the side of the store. By coincidence, they ran into Miss Nutcruncher from earlier, and almost as if on cue, they both gave the girl a deadpan thumbs up before bursting into stifled laughter.

    Takane… finally… recovered after a good few seconds, but found herself able to speak quickly enough.

    “I think he had that a long time coming. Nice job, uh…”

    Oh right, she didn’t actually know this person.
  12. Hitomi Miho - LawsonMiho continued her sorting as the stand-alone from earlier approached, not bothering to look up. “That’s what most people call me.” She answered, taking another swig of coffee. She had long gotten used to the unusually common preference for her surname over her personal name, to the point where she just stopped mentioning it all. Only her closest friends used her personal name, and even then it wasn’t entirely rare for them to switch the two out.

    "Frosted tips says he tried coping a feel,"

    “He did? He doesn’t seem like the type to own up to his own actions. Well-“ She shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “People do unexpected things.” She paused, putting her coffee to the side. “Still a piece of shit though.” She muttered, returning to her miniature noodle towers. She had built fourteen in all, enough to feed two for the week, which was exactly what she needed. She calculated the price in her head, adding in the price of the coffee and the onigiri. ¥100 for the coffee, plus ¥150 for the onigiri, and then ¥60 for each Ramen…

    Still adding in her head, Miho tuned back into the conversation as the boy apologized for Tips, a scowl spreading across her face, though it wasn’t clear to what she was scowling at. “Apologies don’t work like that.” She cut in, her tone flat. “Thanks though.” She recounted the stacks of noodles once, then twice, then three times, before cursing aloud to herself. Too many.

    With a grimace, she pushed over one of the towers, which fell with a depressingly small crash to the floor. Then, with a lighter nature, she swept her arm through three more, which too crumpled anticlimactically, joining the mess of Ramen wreckage. No use crying over spilled Ramen, right? Did that saying even apply? Probably not.

    The noodle crisis dissolved, Miho turned to Jun, raising an eyebrow as he extended his hand, before laughing to herself. “Soda, huh? Unfortunate.” Quickly, she piled her chosen Ramen into her box, nestling the coffee safely in the corner before placing the onigiri on top. Tucking her box under her arm, she took his hand and pulled herself up, her foot sliding back to regain her balance as her head swimmed from the sudden movement. Before he could retract his hand, she pulled the onigiri from the box and shoved it into his hand. “Stand’s over there.” She said, pointing to the stand from which she had grabbed the onigiri. “You have to make sure you put it back right, or else the package will rip open, and you’ll have to buy it.” She said, in a tone that suggested she knew from experience. She looked back to the remaining Ramen, scattered haphazardly on the floor, making a mental note to put it back on the shelves before she left.

    Miho’s attention jumped from the fallen noodles to two girl standing before her, who had burst into stifled laughter. She hadn’t noticed them enter the Lawson, or even the drink area, until they had begun to snicker. She only stood there as they regained her composure, and one spoke up, congratulating her on the earlier events.

    “I think he had that a long time coming. Nice job, uh…”

    “Hitomi.” She stated, making a gesture with her box. “And thanks. By the way, you’re blocking the aisle.”
    #12 Karo, Apr 6, 2015
    Last edited: Apr 6, 2015
  13. Freedom! Finally out of this goddamn place with way too many people, too many being more than 2, Yuuko took a step out of the front door, mission succe- "...! F-Fuck!" Seeing things all the time it wasn't really anything special, though a white floating mundane mask appearing just a small distance away from her face out of fucking nothing was a first. And real or not, thanks to the surprising shock, Yuuko simply lost her balance and fell backwards onto her buttocks. Luckily for her those illegally acquired sweets kept in her pocket, that however did not help her calm down.

    Looking up onto this shit thing, which by now seemed to make fun of her by deciding to grow pink hair accompanied by a black mouth and growing blue eyes. "You think this is funny, eh?" And with that, it only got worse. "Fuck." Did the anti-social no lifer really say that? She didn't know, because all she heard were fucktons of voices, voices that kept on talking and talking about stuff she couldn't even understand, because they all talked something different, at the same time, with the same amount of noise. Really, that was a first.

    "Shut up!" Yuuko now yelled, to no avail. "Fuck." This was only getting worse, she had to get out here, right now, or maybe someone would think she was insane...not like the student wanted to give the slightest of cares about what other people thought about her. Slowly standing up she fixated her gaze now onto that mask and shook her head. "It's not real..." Murmuring that over and over to herself the girl planned to move towards it, not like there was any way around if she wanted to leave the store. "Fuck!" Using her apparently most favourite word as moral support, Yuuko closed her eyes and made it!

    "NO!" Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She was so done with this store. The mask disappeared, but the moment the student stepped through it a feeling of unimaginable dread shivered through her body, just an instant, but enough to drive tears in her eyes and make her shiver. Another student apparently spoke up or something. "Fuck off!" With that, she started to move, first slowly, but quickly picking up in pace towards home.
  14. Jun regarded the onigiri in his hand as the Hitomi girl introduced herself to the giggling duo. Well that was that. Pink hair it was. He said a friendly "have a good one" to Hitomi as he put the onigiri on the first surface he saw near him and turned to walk away towards the fridge section. What's his name probably didn't need the ice by now but screw it. He could use it as a topic of conversation with the pretty cashier. He'd wasted his time, now flirting would have to be cut short and left on hold with the next one. His mother had asked him to be home since she was due any day now and his step dad wasn't around these days to be there in case she suddenly went into labor. While Jun was at school the neighbor kept an eye on her, but his mom didn't want to impose too much.

    Jun pulled out a small cold-pack and made his way towards the cashier. "Hello," he said throwing her his best smile which she easily returned.
    "Hot tea and a cold-pack?" she inquired with humor and interest. Jun wasn't a bad looking teenager which tended to facilitate the flirting process with most girls. Hitomi now barely registered as one, but she still had hope.
    Jun chuckled as he answered, "hot tea for me, cold-pack for a fellow outside with more than a bruised ego if you know what I mean," he said as he leaned in to grab both things. "No need for a bag," he said in a coy whisper, "I'll see you around."

    Bam. She was hooked enough for now. Leaving it for later would add some mystery to his persona, Jun thought. Girls ate that shit up in flocks.
    He stepped out of the Lawson and walked over to the trio. "Here you go," he threw the cold-pack at what's his name and gave pale stick a pat on the shoulder. "I'd lay off the catcalling if I were you. It's cheap, and it never works. I'm heading home." Jun gave a small wave and backed off.

    "Hey Soda!" called out mushroom-head, "see you tomorrow?"

    Ugh, it was like abandoning a small puppy. Jun almost wanted to gag. "So long as you don't embarrass me again. Sure," he laughed and walked on. Glancing back he could have sworn he saw at least two of them smile. Virgins.
    #14 Mglo, Apr 7, 2015
    Last edited: Apr 7, 2015
  15. Ah, her name was Hitomi. Wasn’t she that girl that apparently never slept? Perpetual insomnia or something of the sort? That was both cool and horrible.

    “Right. I’m Takane, and this is my friend, Keiko,” said the smiling girl, with a gesture towards her friend. At the same time, they both realized they were indeed blocking the aisle a bit, and with an apology and a sheepish grin, stepped aside. Having chatted a bit with the never-sleeping girl, they moved on and paid for their drinks and Keiko’s gift card before splitting up at the front door. This, of course, was not done without exchanging glances as copious amounts of cursing began to flow from the air conditioned store.

    The walk home was pleasant enough, as Takane’s home was within a twenty minute walking distance of the Lawson’s that they’d gone to. Naturally, the house was empty, with her family busy at the bookstore, so she had the entire house to herself to play video games or practice archery in her backyard.

    Naturally, she booted up the computer.
  16. Hitomi Miho – Lawson > HomeMiho simply nodded at the two as they introduced themselves, now, with the lull in the unusually feeble Lawson crowd, aware of the passing time. She figured she could have been a bit more polite, but it wasn’t exactly the most pressing thing on her mind. This, of course, did not keep her from noticing the slight shift in their eyes as she had introduced herself. As she stepped past them, she wondered which rumor had been associated with her name this time. Over time, she had been assigned a variety of different characteristics from relative strangers, from bitchy, to prude, to loose, to depressed, to, her absolute favourite, vampiric. Better yet was when these traits were used in combination, the most notable being a short origin story that had spread across her class the prior year. Ah, yes, it seemed almost everyone had heard the story of the infamous vampire Hitomi, and her lesbian lover, Ririko. There were many variations of their vampiric origins, the most popular being Ririko’s rumored Transylvanian origin. Story goes, after the two girls had fallen in love, she had bitten Miho on the wrist, which explained the unnecessary covering of skin even in the warm summer months. While Miho had been amused by the rumor, Ririko was less so, and quickly stomped it out by attaching herself to an upperclassman boy and starting a school sun bathing club. The rumor dissipated within days.

    A quiet laugh buzzed behind Miho’s lips as she thought of the incident, dying as she reached the counter. She hung back quietly as first Jun, then Takane and Keiko paid for their items. Finally, her turn arrived, and she promptly hoisted the box onto the checkout counter, rattling the coffee cup ever so slightly. The pink haired girl scanned the items with a mixture of curiosity and veiled annoyance, as she struggled to scan the already opened coffee. Miho didn’t bother to apologize, merely gathering her money in her hand as she waited. Everything finally scanned, the girl packed all of the Ramen into bags, exchanging them with Miho as she handed over the money. Her items paid for and no change to be received, she looped the plastic bags on her wrists and sucked down the rest of her coffee. As she headed towards the exit, she remembered the scattered Ramen on the floor, and began to make a move that way, before the pink haired girl interjected. “It’s fine.” She chirped. “I’ll get it.” Miho merely nodded, then headed out of the store.

    As she passed, she didn’t look at the group of boys, gathered around their slightly recovered leader protectively, merely throwing her empty cup into an open trash container. As she walked to her house, the nice homes lining the neighborhood that held the Lawson slowly gave way to buildings of a more dilapidated condition, until, eventually, she reached her home. It sat on the edge of the neighborhood, slumped sadly in relative isolation. The house itself seemed near the edge of collapse, and it was clear from the missing shingles and bent gutters that it was long past the years of care and upkeep. The brick of the home was ashen and faded, and the small wooden porch looked rotted and grey. Despite this, a clean, freshly shooken greeting mat laid in front of the door, bringing an odd ray of light to the otherwise bleary home. The rug was decorated with kanji, woven into the fabric of the mat with delicate hands. ‘The Hitomi's Welcome You’, it read. Miho stopped before it and began to dig in her bag for her house keys. After a few seconds of searching, she finally pulled them from the deep fabric abyss, and slide them smoothly into the door lock. Pushing the door open gently, she stepped over the mat and into the house, removing her keys as she closed the door behind her. "Dad, I'm home!"
    #16 Karo, Apr 17, 2015
    Last edited: May 3, 2015
  17. That oddly fair-weathered Wednesday came to a close, as the amber sun dipped under the horizon, and long shadows emerged from the streets. It was colder now, the clouds that had once clung to the sea now moving inland. They loomed in the night sky, blotting out the sparkle of the stars. With the weight of the sea within them, they slowed down their journey, lingering over the town of Kirisama. All signs of good weather was gone now, the coastal city’s wild weather coming into play. It was as if nature was reminding the civilian of winter.

    None of that ill weather really mattered though, for most people were home by then, taking shelter from the rain that would inevitably come. TVs were up and running, stoves were lit, and food was to be had, as dinner was made and had. Like always, it was eaten at 7PM specifically, and, like always, ‘itadakimasu’ was spoken after three claps, before a toast with miso soup was made. The bad weather didn’t really matter, even though older homes rumbled with cold drafts. It was simply another evening.

    But, on the beds of four individuals who had left their rooms to eat dinner, there was a lacquered box, rectangular and thin. No indication of sender. No postal code. No gift wrapping. Simply a black box that would open to reveal a thin, red flipphone, and a message written in yellowed paper.

    And, on a lonely mountain shrine, whipped by wind and rain, an individual dressed in a coarse cotton kimono clapped their hands together three times.

    “I humbly receive.”
  18. Jun sat at the dinner table watching the small kitchen TV as his mother handed him a pudding. He caught her eye and she gave him a tentative smile. Jun sighed. Here it comes, he thought.

    "Jiro and I have been talking and.... Oh! I'm sorry honey, but the room is too small to fit a crib and since you have a single bed your room has much more space!"

    The TV continued to babble in the background as Jun pretended to be focused on whatever it was that the screen was showing.

    "Oh but don't worry, the baby will be staying with me at first. Jiro will buy a guest futon and he'll be sleeping in the living room," she smiled one of her apologetic smiles. The same one she'd used the day she talked to Jun about re-marring.

    Jun shifted in his seat as he scooped out the last bit of pudding out of the container and ate it. He stood up and started clearing the table. His mom moved as she was about to protest when Jun spoke, "who the hell's going to visit us here, we don't need a guest futon mom. Just buy the freaking crib and put it in my room. I don't know why Jiro got all this western furniture anyways, it doesn't make any sense."

    He finished washing the dishes as the front door opened with a click, "I'm home! Sorry that I'm late," Jiro said as he kissed his wife on the cheek. "Mmm, it smells good."

    The food had gone cold, the guy was just lying and going about his merry go happy act, Jun though with a smirk as he bowed his head slightly in hello. Jun's mom fumbled with her words but Jun covered it up by speaking, "Mom told me. I don't think we should waste money on a futon, just buy the crib. I'm going to bed."

    Without saying anything more or even staying to hear anything more, Jun walked out of the small kitchen, turned right and entered his room. He let himself fall onto the western styled bed and immediately pulled himself back up up. Rubbing his shoulder he turned to look at a lacquered box, rectangular and thin. He wondered if it was his mom's doing. Some sort of bribe for the sleepless nights to come. The box was black which he found odd. A gift from his mother usually puked colors. Jun opened it and found a thin red flip-phone and a message written in yellowed paper.

    "What the fuck...?" he whispered. Jun re-read the letter at least four times before he decided it hadn't come from anyone in his house, it wasn't some sort of joke because who gives out fancy red flip-phones?, it gave him an eerie vibe, and lastly he didn't know anyone well enough yet for them to pull some prank like this.
    Jun laid back on his bed and closed his eyes, "this town is weird... maybe this is some kind of town cult or something. Some weird-ass club...."
    With a huff, June got back up and filled out the letter. Curiosity got the better of him and with finality, he stuffed the yellowed paper back into the lacquered box and put it on his windowsill thinking he'd leave it out the next day where whoever dumped on his bed could pick it up without pretending to be his friend or something. That had been likely the way they'd gotten inside. Jun's mother would open the door to anyone claiming to be Jun's new friend.
    #18 Mglo, Apr 22, 2015
    Last edited: Apr 22, 2015
  19. It was on this occasion that her family was running particularly late.

    Takane had gotten a text from her brother that he was heading home, but some messed delivery order or something of the sort meant that her parents would be half an hour late. It looked like dinner duty would fall on Takane and her brother. Essentially, that meant the task would fall to her; Seto was a good kid, but he couldn’t even make toast to save his life. Maybe she would put him on the rice cooker, but a certain Lovecraftian rice disaster was still fresh in memory.

    This thought alone was enough to peel the older sister off her laptop and her NicoNico binge. Spurring herself into action, she made quick work of the night’s meal, just in time for Seto to pop in with an expected greeting.
    “I’m home~” said the younger brother, dipping his head into the kitchen area. “Emergency miso tonight and chicken tonight,” said Takane, punching her two mittened fists together. “What’s going on at the store? Nothing big, right?”

    Bounding a meter or so to the kitchen counter, her twelve year old brother picked up the TV remote. “No biggie, we got a late delivery or something.”

    Eh, fair enough. A few minutes later, their parents arrived anyway, and dinner was unceremonious, if somewhat late. By around a quarter after eight, they were just about wrapping up, and the day’s chef retired to her room to finish the rest of her homework.

    Except, there was a bento on her bed for some reason. And inside the small black box was a red, dumb flip phone and a piece of yellow line paper that asked a peculiar question. Was Seto playing a prank or something? It wasn’t in his character, and he probably couldn’t even afford a used flipphone. Was it some more Kirisama shenanigans, then? Takane shrugged; she wasn’t a detective and she had some homework to do.

    Maybe she’d look into it tomorrow.
  20. Hitomi Miho - HomeReceiving no response, Miho advanced apprehensively into the dim house, the rustling of the bags looped around her wrist gauchely disturbing the still air. “Dad?” She called once more, her voice catching. Again, she heard no response, save for the steady hum of a television, emitting a melody of game show music and raucous laughter. As she began to reach the end of the hallway, she could see the harsh light cast off from the TV, spilling from the entrance of the living room. Miho gagged as a sudden wave of stench hit her, reeking strongly of alcohol and stomach acid. Dropping the bags, Miho stepped through the archway, pinching her nose in an effort to keep from emptying the contents of her own stomach. Her father sat slumped in his chair, surrounded by empty bottles, and covered in vomit. With a sigh, Miho switched off the television, sending the room into pitch blackness. “Fuck.” Miho cursed, stumbling past the TV as she groped blindly for a lamp, before finally brushing the cool, steely support of a floor lamp. After a few unsuccessful attempt at locating the switch, she finally managed to click it into place, and suddenly a muted light was cast across the room, stopping only a few feet before the entranceway of the room.

    Sighing, Miho wasted no time in cleaning up her father’s mess, wiping down the chair and changing his puke-covered shirt. He slept through the entire process, not stirring even as she washed his face with a hot rag. Once she was done and the smell of bile had finally begun to fade, she made her way to the kitchen, picking up the bags of Ramen as she did. Carefully, she slid them into the cabinet, squishing the plastic bags into the trashcan in an attempt to flatten the almost over flowing garbage inside. Being past 7 PM, she half-heartedly bypassed dinner, the voice of her mother ringing in her head.

    “Remember Miho, you eat at 7, or you do not eat at all.”

    It was with this reminder that Miho opened her father’s liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of cheap sake. Eating may be off limits, but drinking was not. Perhaps it should be, Miho thought, as she retreated to her room, taking a swig straight from the bottle. The dry taste was warm, not unlike her earlier coffee, but it felt like dusty water on her tongue, and she was quick to swallow it, having no desire to taste it for longer than necessary.

    Pushing the door closed with her foot, Miho wiped her mouth with a swipe of her sleeve, before exhaling heavily. Guided by the dim streetlight filtering through her blinds, she made her way to her bed, setting the bottle of sake on the floor before collapsing onto it. She scrambled back up as the sharp edge of a box dug into her back, reaching somewhat blindly for the lamp near her bed. Pulling the switch, a dim light filled her room, identifying the item she had fallen onto. A small box sat atop her sheets, only slightly disturbed by the aforementioned crushing. Miho stared at it for a moment, wondering how it had gotten into her room. It couldn’t have been from her father; he was much to inebriated to think of such a thing. And none of her friends, even Ririko, ever entered her house when she wasn’t there. Finally, curiosity took its hold, and she reached for the small box.

    Opening it carefully, the top gave way to reveal a thin, red flip-phone, and a yellow sheet of paper. Blinking, she reached for the paper, before suddenly changing her mind, and grabbing the paper instead. Unfolding it somewhat roughly, she read the message, tilting her head slightly, before reading once more. “The fuck…?” She murmured, rubbing her eyes to make sure she had read it correctly, and not imagined it. As she pulled her eyes from the paper to look back to the flip-phone, she felt a sudden heat rise to her skin, as perplexion gave way to anger. Crumpling the paper into a ball, she threw it to the side, and with a violent kick, shoved the box off her bed with her foot. This had to be one of Keiji’s little games. He was always doing stupid little pranks, trying to play clever. But why would he go into her house? He knew no one was allowed in without her…

    Furrowing her brow in aggravation and confusion, she reached for the bottle, taking another swig. Whatever. She could rip him a new one tomorrow.
    #20 Karo, May 3, 2015
    Last edited: May 3, 2015