From: Chris Schumacher <kensu__@hotmail.com>
Subject: [KOR][FanFic] Spring Wonder (Pt. 1)
Date: Wed, 09 Aug 2006 19:43:00 -0400

KOR: Spring Wonder!


                           Kimagure Orange Road
                              Spring Wonder
                                Chapter 1

Written By: Chris Schumacher
Based on the characters and situation created by Matsumoto Izumi.



    They stood in winter-chilled grass before the worn stone. The
marble had faded over the years. Gone was the melodious mixture of
vibrant blues and cool greys. The stone had sat here for many lonely
years, a sentinel of the dead.
    Etched on its surface were lines, swirls, loops, dashes and
points which represented thoughts: symbols. The largest symbols meant:
spring, sun, beauty, sunrise. The beautiful rise of the spring sun.
These symbols were a name: Akemi Kasuga.
    Today was the first day of spring, sixteen years after Akemi's
last breath. Those that Akemi left behind stood before the marker,
dressed all in white. There were three children that Akemi wouldn't
have recognized, and a husband who was almost two decades older.

    Kyosuke only had one memory of his mother, an inconsequential one:
little more than a tattered strip of film in his mind, an eternally
replaying image of a woman walking across a room. He couldn't even
remember her face.

    Neither Manami or Kurumi had ever known their mother: their
entrance into the world had forced her exit. Manami always lived with
the guilt of what her life cost her family.
    As she stared at her sister, she wondered if she felt the same
kind of guilt. Though Manami wondered if Kurumi had yet the emotional
depth to hold such a view.

    Takeshi remembered the day it happened. He'd been in the room.
He remembered gushing over Kurumi and her "cute little bald head".
Then the horrible silence that followed, as his wife said nothing. He
turned, his head feeling heavier than it possibly could be. The doctor
was concerned, nurses ran into the room. There was a whining noise from
a machine in the corner. This can't be happening: it just can't.
This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of his life... When
the doctor pronounced the time, he felt like a shard of cold,
crystal-clear glass thrust into his heart. How can you move between so
many extremes so rapidly? How could this be real? How could his
daughters never know their mother?

    Kyosuke looked at his crying father. He felt a little embarrassed,
but that was dwarfed by the horror he felt. His father was the bedrock
of their family. If he could be overcome with emotion like this...
Then his dad was just a normal person like him... or his mother. Oh
god, his father was going to die one day. How could he live in a world
without him? How could the world go on without his father in it?

    Kurumi had trouble summoning sorrow for someone she never knew,
and only felt a nagging sense of guilt. She spent the whole time
thinking about spoons.

                             -> -> ->

    Laughter filled the smoky air around their table. Kurumi stood on
the table and danced jerkily to the Duran Duran song the DJ was playing.
    "What's this one called?" Kyosuke asked.
    "'Avenue Skill', I think," Komatsu said.
    Kyosuke ran those two words through his brain. He remembered very
little English, and the name didn't make much sense to him, but hey,
it sounded good. That's what mattered, right?
    "Get down here, Kurumi, before you break something," Ayukawa said.
    Kurumi stuck her tongue out and did a few kicks in the direction
of the dance floor. Hatta laid back in his seat, trying to get a look
up her skirt. Kyosuke reached across the table and punched him in the
arm.
    "You no good pervert!" Kyosuke shouted.
    "Hey! You know you'd look if Hikaru was up there!" Hatta said.
    Kyosuke sighed through his nostrils. It was hard to admit, but
he probably would.

    It was too dark for Komatsu to get a good peek. He leaned back in
his chair and closed his eyes. He couldn't believe nobody wanted to be
part of his next project. TAP GUN 2: This Time It's Personal--how could
that possibly fail?
    Hikaru refused to work with him because of TAP GUN's ending.
Kasuga told him to stick it. Ayukawa said life was too short.
Kurumi couldn't sit still during filming, and had consequently only shown
up in 30 seconds of the finished film. Even that was a bitch to shoot,
with Kurumi's wild gesticulations and frequent ad-libbing.
    If the movie had been better received, they might be more inclined
to help. However the reviews in the Indie Film magazines were some of
the worst he ever read. There was one that seemed okay at first;
but then he realized that "derivative", in a non-mathematical context,
was a bad thing.
    Kurumi's foot came down on the bowl of beer nuts. One nut shot up
at an angle and hit him in the eye.

    "I'm blind! My film career is over! Now the world will have to do
without the next Stephen Spielberg!" Komatsu whined.
    "Just as well," Akane said, sipping her beer. "One of them was too
many."
    "What?" Hikaru sputtered. "You don't like Spielberg? But that E.T.
was sooo cute!"
    "You know, I was just thinking about that movie the other day.
I'm starting to think it was a parable about nudism," Madoka said.
    "Oh?" Kasuga asked, as he succeeded in pulling his sister down
from the table. "How's that?"
    "If those guys didn't walk around naked, they'd have pockets.
And if they had pockets, they could carry around communicators.
Then it wouldn't have taken E.T. a month to build that damn thing,"
Madoka said.
    "Wow, you really spent a lot of time thinking about that movie,
didn't you?" Manami asked.
    Madoka started to blush. She wasn't about to admit she'd seen the
movie 17 times. Though she stopped crying when E.T. died around the
fifth time.

    Akane stared at Madoka's beautifully blushing cheeks. She felt
a giddy warmness fill her chest. Then she felt her stomach cramping.
    She was so close to Madoka right now. She could physically reach
out and touch her... But Madoka had no idea how she felt, so there
might as well have been an ocean between them.
    But looking at Madoka now made her feel warm inside. Though she
was sure that was partially due to the half-gallon of beer in her gut.
    Sometimes she woke up in the morning, and before she opened her
eyes, she imagined a nude Madoka next to her. She'd sit there,
watching Madoka sleep. Seeing Madoka's face--far too often drooping
with sorrow, or contorting with rage--in an expression of peaceful
bliss.
    She wished she could stick a teddy bear in the bed next to her
and use her powers of illusion to make it look like Madoka, but she
was the only person who those powers didn't work on.
Ironically, that was the only good use she could find for the damn
thing.

                              -> -> ->

    They left Disco Moebius at 11:27, exactly five minutes after
Kurumi vomited for the first time; they did not leave by choice.
    The slightly-chilly night air was a welcome change from the
tobacco smoke-filled interior of Disco Moebius. Madoka could feel her
head clearing already, though she still saw small haloes around lights.
There wasn't a cloud in the sky, the stars shone brightly far above
them.
    Kurumi sat on the curb, her head between her knees. Her stomach
gave off threatening noises. Madoka sat next to her, her arm draped
over Kurumi's shoulders.
    "What're we going to do?" Manami said. "Dad can't see this!"
    Kasuga sneered at his inebriated sister. "Have you even heard of
'self-control', Kurumi?! We're going to get grounded for this!"
    "Keep your voice down!" Ayukawa said.
    "Ooohh... If I'm sitting still, why is the world still moving?"
Kurumi said.
    "Keep your eyes open, Kurumi. Closing them only makes it worse,"
Madoka said.
    Kurumi opened her eyes and looked at the street. "That's a little
better... I still fell like I'm on a roller coaster, though."
    "How long is this going to take to wear off?" Akane asked.
    "Hmmm," Hikaru said. "That was a whole glass of brandy, so I'd
say it'd be at least five hours."
    "That's four hours after our curfew," Manami said.
    "She can dry out at my place," Madoka said.
    Suddenly Kasuga stopped pacing. Manami looked relieved. Akane
looked a little happy. Madoka had lived alone ever since her sister had
moved out. It was a large house, with many bedrooms and bathrooms: the
perfect place for a drunk to lay low.
    "Well, okay then," Kasuga said.
    Madoka jumped to her feet, and pulled Kurumi up. "The trouble is
getting there. Hikaru and I've been ticketed for underage drinking
before. We're going to have to be careful."
    Hikaru put on her serious face. "Right. I'll run on ahead and
run interference. Be careful though, no puking in the street."
    Hikaru started to run in the general direction of Madoka's house.
    "Aside from Hikaru, we've all had a bit to drink. So let's split
up, take parallel streets. Kurumi and I'll stick together," Madoka
said.
    Akane, Manami and Kasuga scampered off. Madoka slung her arm
around Kurumi and helped her down the street.

    Kyosuke was glad that Ayukawa chose to escort Kurumi. Aside
from not wanting to be vomited on, he didn't think he could stand up
to a cop the way Ayukawa could.
    He was about 3 kilometers from Ayukawa's house, so he'd get there
in about half an hour. He reached the end of the current block and
looked down the alley. He heard footsteps from the street on the other
end. After a moment, Darth Vader walked into the alley. He turned to
face Kyosuke and held his right hand out in a choking grip.
    Kyosuke started at the sight. He gritted his teeth and chided
himself. "Very funny, Akane," Kyosuke said.
    A girlish chuckle came from within Vader's mask. The illusion
faded away gradually, like fog in the wind.
    "Just trying to keep you on your toes, cousin," Akane said.

    Later, Kyosuke heard familiar shuffling footsteps behind him. He
turned around to see his sister walk towards him, moonlight gleamed
off the lenses of her glasses.
    "Mind if I walk with you oniichan?" she whispered when she got
near.  "I'd rather not walk alone."
    "Sure," Kyosuke said, and the two began to walk in lockstep.
    Manami suddenly thrust her arm onto her brother's chest, and the
two skidded to a halt. She pointed at the pavement, and her brother's
gaze followed. There was an arrow on the pavement, drawn in eyeliner.
Next to it was drawn a curly hiragana "hi".
    "Police box in the next block," Manami said.
    "Oh, yeah," Kyosuke said.
    They walked off the street, following the arrow, and found
themselves in a park. There was another road that ran parallel, just
over the hill. Kyosuke didn't remember there being any police boxes on
it, at least not until they reached Ayukawa's house.
    "It's a bit... dark," Manami said.
    "It's all right, I'll be with you. And I don't think there's a
thug on this planet that can take two ESPers at once," Kyosuke
said.

    Manami and her brother trudged through the newly mown grass.
The only light Manami could see was cast from the street lamps far
behind them, and a halo that crested the dark hill in front of them.
She could barely see her hand in front of her face. She reached out
and grabbed her older brother's hand. He returned the grip firmly.
    "Steady now, no reason to be frightened," her brother said.
    The small spasm of fear ended, and Manami calmed down. As
long as onnichan was here, she thought, things would work out. He
always took care of her, for as long as she could remember.
    She took in the shimmering stars high above them. It had been a
very warm day, so it seemed strange that Orion, or any of the summer
constellations, weren't in the sky.
    But back to onnichan... She found it strange that all of the
things lacking in Komatsu were present in her brother. Was she using
her brother as a template for her ideal partner? Was that a "well"
thing to do? Even though it appeared, on the surface, incestuous, it
didn't seem wrong.
    Why couldn't more guys be like her brother? Maybe they were, but
they just acted differently towards their sisters than towards their
girlfriends. She had to remember that there was things Komatsu wanted
from her that her brother didn't.

                              -> -> ->

    "...and with it being so late, dad, I think you can understand,"
Manami said.
    Even though Kyosuke was sitting in an uncomfortable dining room
chair, he found himself dozing off. He sat up, and the sight of his
bespectacled sister on the phone snapped into sharp focus. So sharp,
in fact, that he realized that he must be sober again.
    "Oh no, Kyosuke's already on his way home," Manami said, sparing
her brother a glance.
    "Awww!" Kyosuke sighed.
    "And could you please pass the message on to Akane's parents as
well? Thanks, love you, bye," Manami hung up the phone.
    "You're a very good liar," Kyosuke noted. "You should be a
lawyer."
    Manami stuck her tongue out at him. Kyosuke smiled inwardly. It
was nice to see her act immature again once in a while. It reminded him
that, somewhere beneath that motherish persona, the Manami he grew up
with still existed.

    Several chunks of partially digested yakitori and french fries
floated in the toilet. Kurumi pulled her head back, and closed her
bloodshot eyes. She heard a clinking of glass and metal from behind
her, and the soft padding footsteps of Madoka's slippered feet.
    "Here, drink this," Madoka said.
    "Whazzit?" Kurumi slurred.
    "It's better you drink it first," Ayukawa said.
    Somewhere in Kurumi's clouded mind something told her that made
sense. She took the glass and quaffed the liquid inside. She tasted it
for just a second, and it was unlike anything she'd tasted before.
Or more to the point, like a bunch of things that she'd tasted before,
but never together. She felt a heave starting.
    "Keep it down!" Madoka said urgently. "You'll thank yourself
tomorrow."
    Kurumi fought the urge to hurl, and with a few deep swallows
managed to keep the concoction down.
    "What was that?" Kurumi asked again.
    "Water, pickle juice, soy sauce, sesame oil..." she trailed off.
    Kurumi felt herself fighting the heaves again.

    "Here," Madoka said, handing Akane the nightgown. "You'll have to
change in here, Kurumi's still throwing up in the bathroom."
    Akane's mind raced; was Madoka going to change in front of her?
That would be so... Oh, she sighed. Madoka walked into the hallway
and closed the door behind her.
    That's a shame--Akane wasn't shy at all... Damn it.
    Akane started to pull off her tank-top, but stopped and looked
around the room. She'd never been in Madoka's room before, she realized.
Everything was so vibrant and light. There were no lame pastels, just
bright, solid, primary colors.
    She walked over to her desk and looked at the bookshelf. Quite a
selection. The Odyssey, The Great Gatsby (in English!), Harusame
Monogatari (so, she had a macabre bent)...
    Akane felt a knotting in her stomach. That horrible,
all-too-familar feeling of hopelessness.
    Why didn't Madoka love her?
    Did she even realize how Akane felt about her? About how she
lulled herself to sleep at night by imagining the pillow talk between
them?
    She saw a picture of Kyosuke on Madoka's dresser. God, she
couldn't believe that putz had a better chance of ending up with Madoka
than she did. And he had Hikaru, too, and all she had was... Well,
Yuki... But that was another case of unrequited love all together.*
    She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, filling her lungs
with Madoka's scent. Madoka was so beautiful, so smart, so graceful,
so perfect... Why was Akane so damned, to have this goddess enter her
life, but as nothing more than a friend?
    She opened her eyes, and wondered how long she'd been in Madoka's
room. She jumped up and pulled off her tank top, dropped her shorts,
and pulled on the nightgown.
    She felt an electric pulse shoot up her spine as she did so. She
suddenly felt warm in a very personal place. This was Madoka's
nightgown. This piece of cotton had spent countless nights rubbing
against her skin. She sniffed the sleeve, but smelled only the faintest
hint of laundry detergent: Madoka's scent was gone.
    For a moment Akane considered putting on some of Madoka's panties:
but she supposed that was crossing the line. That was the sort of
thing that Komatsu would do.

    "Has the room stopped spinning?" Madoka asked.
    Kurumi opened her eyes for a moment. "Yeah," she said weakly.
    Madoka smiled. Many families had hangover cures, but hers was the
only one she knew of that had a cure for the worst parts of drunkenness.
    Madoka tucked Kurumi in. When she looked up, she saw that Kurumi
was already fast asleep. She really envied someone who could fall
asleep so quickly. Madoka was not the type of person who fell asleep
in class or while watching TV. She needed to completely relax before
she could sleep, and that usually took about forty-five minutes from
the moment her head hit the pillow.
    While looking at Kurumi's peaceful, sleeping face, she felt an odd,
warm tinge in her. She wondered if this is what it was like to be a big
sister. The sweetly warm feel was tinged with bitterness, as she now
regretted never having the opportunity.

    In the living room the long-shuttered windows had been thrown
open, and pure, cool spring air permeated the room. An old jazz melody
lilted through the air, composed of strong and certain keystrokes from
Katsuhiro Ayukawa's grand piano.
    Madoka's friends were gathered around the table in the center of
the room. Each of them was enthralled by the deceptively simple tune
that Madoka's slender fingers played for them.
    When she finished, they applauded.
    "Woohoo!" Hikaru shouted. "Wonderful as ever, Madoka!"
    "You're truly talented," Manami said, breathlessly.
    "That's some of the most moving music I've heard in my entire
life," Akane said.
    Madoka stood and took a bow. The applauding recommenced. Madoka
walked over to the table, and sat down next to Hikaru.

    They talked long into the night. The night air coming through the
open window became cooler and crisper as the night wore on.
    The topic of conversation had turned to boys: as it always seemed
to these days.
    "Komatsu?" Hikaru said. "Pffft. Complete perv. Don't let him get
you alone."
    Manami started to turn a little red from embarrassment. Hikaru
noticed she often did when the conversation veered towards sexual
matters.
    "He's better than Hatta, though," Madoka said. "Hatta's got all
the hormones and none of the brains. He gives lie to the myth of
glasses denoting intelligence."
    "It's too bad they can't all be like sempai," Hikaru sighed.
    "Kyosuke?" Akane said with a snort. "He's Komatsu with bedroom
eyes."
    "He is not! He's kind and honorable! Why he's never once tried
to take advantage of me!" Hikaru said. She tried to keep the regret
out of her voice.
    "I have to say, I couldn't hope for a better big brother," Manami
sputtered, quick to change the conversation. "Though he's a little
full of himself."
    "You've been rather quiet, Madoka," Akane said. "What do you think
of Kyosuke?"
    Hikaru noticed a strange tone in her voice; but she couldn't make
sense of it. Madoka was silent for a long moment.
    Finally she said: "Well, if Hikaru likes him, that's good enough
for me."
    Hikaru felt a suddenly tightness in her chest. Something was
wrong; she felt like this sometimes when they talked about Kyosuke
There was something wrong, but she couldn't quite put her finger on
it.
    "Have anyone of you had your first kiss yet?" Hikaru asked. "I
really want my first one to be with sempai," she felt inclined to
add.
    Manami let out a short, harsh laugh. "I'm so shy around guys,
though I'm surprised Komatsu hasn't tried anything yet. I guess it
would help if we actually went on dates instead of going out in
groups," Manami said.
    "Kisses? Sure, I've done that lots of times," Akane said, sounding
bored.
    "Which guys did you kiss?" Hikaru asked excitedly.
    "Uh..." Akane stared down at the table and mumbled: "No one you
know. They're...um...in Hokkaido and all that."
    "I'm more concerned with finding that special someone than
kissing," Madoka said. "When you find them, kissing's just a fringe
benefit."
    Hikaru felt that stabbing sensation again.

    "It's true!" Hikaru insisted. "I can't remember where I heard it
from, but everyone seems to know it."
    "But what if you don't decide you're going to do it until you're
already on the date?" Madoka asked.
    "Maybe it's to stop you from doing that. By wearing red panties,
not only do you have something he finds sexy, it also tells him that
you were planning to sleep with him all along," Akane said. "It takes
the ball out of his court."
    "That's very Machiavellian," Madoka said. She smiled. "I like it."
    Akane felt her heart start to race. Madoka just complimented her!
Madoka thought she was insightful! Akane couldn't help but crack a
smile; though she was sure none of them knew why she was smiling.
    "But... what if you don't have any red panties?" Manami said,
turning a little red herself.
    "We need to take her out and buy her some!" Hikaru said.
    "Oh no, no need!" Manami flustered. "I'm not going to be needing
them any time soon."
    "Speaking of panties," Madoka said (Akane almost fell off her
cushion). "I saw this weird pair when I was Shibuya last month. Have
you ever heard of a t-back?"
    "That sounds like some sort of shirt," Manami said. "Why do they
call t-shirts that anyway? They aren't shaped like t's. And tank-tops
don't look like tanks either; but they look more like t's than
t-shirts do."
    Akane patted Manami on the head. "Someone needs a little sleep.
What were you saying, Ma-, ah, Ayukawa?"
    "Well a t-back doesn't really has a back, it just has this long
strip of cloth. When I asked one of the clerks about it, she said it
was for eliminating panty lines," Madoka said.
    "I bet it would really show off your ass, too!" Akane said. "I
heard of those before, but I thought they were called g-strings."
    "Euphemism," Manami said. "G-strings have connotations of hookers
and strippers. If you release something like that for 'good girls',
you've got to change the name."
    "That must be a pain to wear," Hikaru said. "It's probably keep
getting caught. You'd have to keep pulling it out."
    "Something that exotic is never going to catch on," Akane said.
"People will only sacrifice comfort so far."

    Much later, Manami and Hikaru were fast asleep. Madoka was nursing
a seltzer and staring out the window. Akane got up to go to the
bathroom.
    She walked past the bathroom, and tip-toed up the stairs, down
the hall, and into Ayukawa's room. The window had been left open,
showing the light blue horizon far off: it would be dawn soon. Only
the brightest stars still shone in the dark blue sky.
    When she'd been in her earlier, a germ of an idea had taken
root. Over the long hours of girl talk, it had sprouted into a healthy
and full plan.
    When she had been here before, she had wondered why Madoka didn't
love her. She thought she now understood. Madoka was her ideal, the
person she most wanted to be. In order to win Madoka's heart, Akane
must become hers.
    "I will do everything in my power to be the woman who can turn
you," Akane said, her fist clenched before her. "I will be yours,
Ayukawa Madoka."
    At that moment, the sun rose.

                             -> -> ->

    "They won't let us film on school property?" Hatta shouted.
    Komatsu winced. "Not so loud. I had a lot to drink last night."
    The two were walking to the local Burger King to have an early
lunch. Hatta had spent the night on the floor of Komatsu's room.
Komatsu's mother had discovered this when she stepped on what she
assumed was a pile of dirty clothes, and it groaned. Her scream had
woken Komatsu several hours before he wished.
    Not that Komatsu had wanted Hatta to spend the night. They had
walked home together, as Komatsu's house was closer. After Komatsu
went inside, he assumed Hatta went home. But when he looked out his
bedroom window, he saw Hatta in earnest conversation with a tree in
his front yard. It was then that Komatsu decided he wasn't safe to
walk home.
    "I guess that kills 'The Slutty Schoolgirl Murders'," Hatta said.
    "That, and the fact that there was no way in hell I would have
signed off on that," Komatsu said. He really didn't get slasher films.
He thought that teenagers should be rewarded, not punished, for having
sex so early in life.
    "How about a silent movie? That would cut the costs in half, since
we wouldn't have to rent any sound equipment or buy tape. We could do
something Buster Keatonish," Hatta said.
    "No thanks. I have no desire for a broken neck," Komatsu said.
    "That was only one time," Hatta grumbled.
    "I'm not going the art house route," Komatsu said. "We need
something original, but recognizable. Something challenging, but
comforting. Something groundbreaking, but familiar. Something complex,
but simple."
    "You are aware you're contradicting yourself," Hatta said.
    But Komatsu barely heard him, he started to walk across the
street, to where a puppet theatre had been set up. A couple of kids
were sitting on the sidewalk, looking enthralled.
    "I am neither drunk or out of mind," one of the puppets said.
    "This is it!" Komatsu said.
    "I am simply here to ensure that the sentence is carried out
swiftly," another puppet said.
    Komatsu turned to Hatta. "This is it!" he repeated. "Our national
legend, the bedrock of our very culture! A story everyone recognizes!"
    "It's just a stupid puppet show," Hatta said.
    "No, you fool! Can't you see? This is what George Lucas did! He
purified Western culture into its purest form, or more to the point he
got some sucker to do it for him, then he threw in ray guns and it
got him millions of dollars!" Komatsu said.
    Hatta stared at the puppet show for a few more moments. "Yeah,
but they've made a bunch of movies out of this story. How could you
possibly expect to stand out? Are you going to make it a porno?"
    Komatsu thought about that for a moment. "No, it would have to
be yaoi then. I really don't like that. No, we're going to make it
very popular by following in the footsteps of giants. We're going to
make the 47 Ronin..." he paused for effect. "...In Space!"

                             -> -> ->

    Akane sat on her bed and stared at the wall. She'd gotten home
almost an hour ago. After assuring her father she'd had a good time at
Madoka's, she came up here to think.
    It was a question of restraint, she decided. Remembering that old
novel Moby Dick (or rather, the general impression of the book she got
from modern culture), she decided that she should set some limits on
what she would do to win over Madoka.
    She'd gone wrong before by attempting to tear down Kyosuke. She
had believed that by making Madoka hate him, she would look better.
Although she didn't like Kyosuke, she found that she loved him. She
cared what happened to him--and didn't want to cause him pain, either
by action or inaction.
    Since she could not tear down her competitors, the only option
was to make herself better in Madoka's eyes. This had been the idea
she got last night, and through several hours of contemplation she'd
realized it was the right one.
    Then she began to ponder one of the great eternal questions: how
does one impress Ayukawa Madoka?

                             -> -> ->

    "Thanks for inviting us to lunch," Kyosuke said as he unwrapped
his whopper.
    "Oh it was no problem at all," Komatsu said. "After all, it's the
least we could do for the rising stars of the Japanese film industry."
    Kyosuke set his hamburger down and let out a long sigh. "You
can't just let this go, can you?"
    Kurumi said, in a raspy voice: "What's he talking about?"
    "We've come up with an idea for a better movie," Hatta said.
"It'll make us more famous than you could possibly imagine."
    "We're going to do the 47 Ronin... IN SPACE!" Komatsu said.
    Kyosuke rolled his eyes. "Where are going to get 47 actors from?"
    "Well, they'll be wearing helmets, so we can double up," Komatsu
said.
    "Having five people play 47 Samurai would require a lot more than
DOUBLING UP!" Kyosuke said.
    "One person would have play approximately 9.4 ronin, yes, I get
that," Komatsu said. "But it'll add to the charm of the movie."
    "But more than five of them couldn't be onscreen at any one time,
don't you think the audience would notice that?" Manami asked.
    "Well, we could use dummies," Hatta said.
    "We already have two of them," Kurumi said, and stuck out her
tongue.
    "Wait a second, you're going to have women playing ronin?"
Kyosuke said.
    "Well, we're never going to show them without their helmets on,
but yes," Komatsu said.
    "So you're just looking for a warm body, huh?" Kurumi asked.
    "Well..." Hatta said "I suppose we could write a new role."
    "A princess!" Komatsu said. "Every good epic needs a princess.
We'll call her the princess... of silence!"
    "Because she doesn't have any lines," Kurumi said. It was not a
question.
    "No, she'll have lines," Komatsu said.
    "Then why is she the princess of silence?" Kyosuke asked.
    "Because we like the sound of it," Komatsu said.
    "Why don't you just call her the princess of pregnancy and bare
feet?" Kyosuke said.
    "There's no way I'm going to be in your stupid movie," Kurumi
said. "I have better things to do: like going to the dentist and
stepping on rusty nails."
    "Count me out too," Kyosuke said. "I have a reputation to think
of."
    "A reputation as a weak-willed, indecisive, waffling jerk?"
Komatsu asked.
    "Better than being a C-movie star," Kyosuke said with a snarl.
    "I'll help you," Manami said.
    "Oh! Thank you, thank you!" Hatta said. "You'll make a wonderful
Princess of Silence!"
    Komatsu regarded her with a stern look. "I'm afraid I must ask,
Manami: are you helping us out of pity?"
    Manami blushed. "I... I suppose I am."
    Komatsu shrugged. "Works for me. Welcome aboard."

                             -> -> ->

    Akane laid the marker down and stood back to admire her work.
It was nothing more than a neatly grouped collection of words, but she
felt an odd sense of satisfaction as she gazed at it. She had managed
to completely dissect Madoka's character.
    Beautiful, graceful, musical, glamorous, cultured,
"tough guy"/"bad girl" image... and at the very bottom was written
"strange sadness?".
    Akane started to play with a yo-yo as she stared at the chart.
It helped her think. These qualities, she noted, are what made Madoka
who she was. These were also the things that Akane loved about her.
    In order to become the ideal that Madoka would fall for, she would
need to replicate each of these qualities in herself. Akane sighed:
it was overwhelming.
    Beauty would be easy: she knew she wasn't bad to look at. Guys
used to hit on her all the time until they realized what she was.
    Grace would be a hard one. She was always so hard-headed and
ham-handed. Kyosuke once said that she moved around like an ape. She'd
smashed his face into the pavement; or so she liked to remember. She
wasn't much of a bruiser, she'd never done more than slap someone or
fight during a field hockey game. But all that would have to stop, she
realized.
    Akane gulped: something was wrong. Realizing that she had to
monitor her actions from now on--it felt like she'd lost a part of
herself. Could she truly change her actions? That's just so much
pressure...
    She sat on her bed, a heavy frown forming on her face. After a
moment she looked to the ceiling, where a picture of Madoka was
plastered.
    She had to remember what she was doing this for. She had to
remember WHO she was doing this for. What's a little personality change
if she could wake up next to Ayukawa Madoka every morning for the rest
of her life?
    Akane threw her shoulders back and let out a deep breath. She
stood up and went back to the chart.
    Musical ability. She'd tried to play the trumpet as a kid, but
couldn't get it to sound right. She'd told the band teacher that she
couldn't get the trumpet to make the right noise. He'd looked at her
like she was a retard. She hadn't picked up an instrument since.
    She looked at her hands: Madoka played the piano as well as the
saxophone. In fact, she was better at the piano. Akane liked using
computers: she could type over 80 WPM. Surely she could learn to play
something like a piano?
    Except they didn't have a piano... Madoka had this great old
upright piano in her living room that she practiced on. Akane supposed
she could borrow the one at the school... but she was going to soon
lose access to that one.
    Akane felt a cramp deep in the pit of her stomach. Yes, that was
the part that wasn't on the chart, because she couldn't bring herself
to put it on there.
    The key to winning Madoka's heart wasn't any of these things:
though certainly, they would help. What she needed most of all was
familiarity. And she couldn't gain that sort of familiarity during the
few times they met on the weekends, and the rare times they met after
school.
    The first step on this long road was by far the hardest. It was
also one she could never take back once she committed herself.
    Akane needed to get herself expelled.

                             -> -> ->

    "Is something wrong, Akane? You didn't say a single thing during
lunch," Michi asked.
    Akane looked up from her algebra book. "Didn't have much to say,"
Akane said.
    "You've been pretty quiet all day," Chie said, adjusting her
glasses. "Something on your mind?"
    "Oh, the usual things," Akane said with a shrug.
    Of course that was a lie. She'd spent all morning thinking of ways
to get expelled. Graffiti wasn't enough to get her expelled. Property
damage was, but then she'd have to pay for it and might even get in
trouble with the cops. All the other methods she came up with involved
hurting people, and that wasn't something she wanted to do.
    Anno-sensei came in from the hallway, readjusting her blouse.
Akane cocked an eyebrow: she must've met the gym teacher in the
equipment shed again. Maybe she could try to blackmail her... No, it
was pretty much an open secret. Everyone who would have a problem with
it already knew.
    Anno-sensei pulled out the waka book they'd been reading for the
past two weeks. "I hope everyone's done their homework for today's
Japanese class."
    A few students groaned. Akane indifferently pulled her Japanese
folder out of her desk and took out a single sheet of paper. The poem
had been deceptively easy to write. She had a great muse, after all.
    "Akane, would you like to read yours first?" Anno-sensei asked.
    "Not especially," Akane said, candidly. Insubordination would
help, she suspected.
    Anno-sensei just stared at her, Akane eventually had to break
eye-contact. She shuffled to the front of the room. She looked down
at the poem and suddenly felt better. She set it on the podium and
began to read:
    "The Beauty of Lady M
    In the cool moonlight,
    Her long hair shimmers,
    The color of midnight,
    Yet each strand glimmers

    Smooth cheeks blush in the brisk night air,
    Bright eyes and sensuous soft lips,
    Her complexion so very fair,
    Her body's curve crests at her hips.

    She wears a perfectly white kimono,
    Which shows the line of her perfect round breasts,
    Her body's frame is built like a willow,
    And its supple fruit her perfect round breasts,

    Fabric hides the silky smoothness of her long legs,
    Bare feet as lovely as the Platonic ideal
    Under her skirt: lower cheeks, formed like perfect eggs,
    So lucky am I, that this Lady M is real."

    Her heart had begun to race as she read it, it was all so TRUE!
She had expected some applause, or even just Anno-sensei telling her
to take her seat: but there was nothing but unearthly silence.
    Akane looked up, and everyone in the room was staring at her in
wide-eyed shock. Anno-sensei's mouth was hanging open.


    "You must understand why we find this poem of yours disturbing,
Akane," the headmistress said.
    "No, I don't," Akane said. "Since when was an examination of
feminine beauty a crime?"
    "It isn't what you said in this poem that bothers us, it's why
we think you said it," the headmistress said.
    Akane sunk into the chair, a defiant scowl crossing her face.
"I wrote it as a self-portrait. It's the love I feel for myself, and
shows how I find myself attractive. Now if you find self-love to be
a bad thing, you should get rid of those Self-Esteem pamphlets in the
student center-"
    "I wouldn't describe your hair as 'the color of midnight', Akane,"
the headmistress said.
    Damn, Akane thought. "It's more broad then self-love, it's
praising the female physique in general."
    "But you already said it was a self-portrait, Akane. And even if
this ode to physique is all this is, that's just as bad," the
headmistress said.
    There was an anger inside Akane that been there constant since her
moment of self-discovery at the age of 8. This anger, which was usually
nothing more than a soft buzz in her skull, suddenly spiked. Akane's
face curled into a snarl as she began to shout at the headmistress.
    "What the hell is your problem, anyway? So what if I like women
and not men? How is that any skin off your nose? For the love of Christ,
why can't you just live and let live?" Akane bellowed.
    "Because, Akane-san, there is right and wrong in this world, and-"
the headmistress began.
    "Yes, I quite agree that there are some things which are inherently
wrong. But I don't think that love between two consenting adults,
regardless of gender, qualifies as wrong or evil! What kind of psycho
are you that you can think that way?!" Akane said.
    "Watch your tone, Kasuga-san," the headmistress said, with what
Akane later realized was a dangerous tone.
    Akane rose and slammed her fist onto the desk. "You are nothing
more than a small-minded bigot!"


    Yokoi-sensei was explaining how to rationalize a denominator when
she heard someone run down the hallway. As they got closer, she
remembered that Keiko had gone to the bathroom about five minutes ago.
    The feet skidded to a halt before the classroom, and Keiko yanked
the door open. She rushed in, panting. She tried to speak, but had to
catch her breath first.
    Yokoi-sensei looked at her sternly. "Keiko, what's the meaning of
this?"
    "A-a-Akane!" Keiko finally managed to say.
    Yuki stood up from her seat. "What happened to Akane?!"
    "Akane... She's been expelled!" Keiko said.
    Suddenly Yokoi's scowl vanished, and she fell into her chair,
speechless. There were gasps from all corners of the room; many were
completely in shock. Several even started crying.
    Far off, the school clock struck the hour.


    After the principal's secretary had tried three times to get
Akane's mother on the phone, the principal had one of his
student-toadies escort Akane off-campus. She then walked to the park
across the street and sat on a bench.
    She stared at Hoshi All-Girl's School. She didn't hate Hoshi's;
she'd enjoyed going there. She liked the students, the teachers, and
she thought they liked her. That's why this hurt so damn much.
    The really funny thing is that she hadn't been trying to get
expelled. She was trying to figure out a master plan, and this just
fell in her lap. She couldn't help but smile at that.
    "Excuse me, miss, shouldn't you be in school?" a voice said from
behind her.
    Akane looked over her shoulder and saw a police-man standing
behind the bench. She recognized him as Officer Saito, who covered this
neighborhood's truant beat.
    "I don't have a school to go to, I've been expelled," Akane said.
    "Surely you can do better than that," Saito said.
    Akane took the note to her parents the principal gave her and
handed it to Saito.
    Saito unfolded the paper and glanced over it. He stiffened as
he did so. He folded it over and handed it back to Akane.
    "Shouldn't you be going home?" Saito asked.
    "I just want to sit here for a while..." Akane said. Then she
shrugged. "Besides, my parents aren't going to be back until 6 anyway."
    Akane thought Saito looked confused. He chewed on his lower lip
for a few moments. Finally he said: "Stay out of trouble," and moved
on.
    She wondered how long it would take to get into Kouryou; probably
not tomorrow. Maybe if she went over and talked to the principal.
Her parents would have to admire that kind of take-charge attitude...
    But she'd told Saito the truth: she really just wanted to sit
here for a while, and ponder the life-chaning events that had taken
place.


    Yuki was halfway through her salami sandwich when Kaori came over
to talk to her.
    "Guess you blew it, huh?" Kaori said.
    Yuki looked up from his fashion magazine. "What are you talking
about?"
    "Now that Akane's out of our school, any chances you had with
her now approach zero," Kaori said.
    Yuki felt her nostrils burn, as they were wont to do when she
felt grief. She shrugged it off; literally, so Kaori could see it.
    "I assume she's having a great time with that boyfriend of hers.
I, of all people, should accept that you can't change or challenge
how people feel," Yuki said.
    "Her boyfriend?" Kaori said, wrinkling her nose. "Oh! That
Kyosuke guy?"
    "Yeah, you met him?" Yuki said.
    "No, but I heard from Chie about that. He's actually her cousin.
She was only pretending to date him to get her and Michi to stop their
griping about her not having a boyfriend," Kaori said. "Just between
you, me, and the salami sandwich: I hear she likes girls."
    Yuki started to feel her blood boil, but it was overshadowed by
a bright deluge of hope. Akane liked girls! There was still hope.
    Then Yuki felt depressed again. How often was she going to see
Akane, now that they didn't go to school together anymore?
    But she couldn't let an opportunity like this go. She couldn't
allow this love to remain unrequited. She had to convince Akane to
give her a shot: by any means necessary.

                             -> -> ->

    This will be where the rockets take off, Komatsu thought to
himself. He took in the long fields of billowing green grass and
smirked. He held up his Polaroid and snapped a picture, not bothering
to look into the viewfinder.
    "I thought this was going to take place in space?" Hatta said.
    "Nah, you can't have it set completely in space. Either you're
stuck making expensive effects shots, or cramped interior shots on
expensive sets," Komatsu said. "What we do is we film on a day where
there's no clouds, and we use Chromoa Key to turn the sky purple and
drop in a couple of moons."
    "But those shots always look so fake! Remember the Master in that
episode where Tom Baker died?" Hatta said.
    "Well, technology has come a long way in the past five years,"
Komatsu said.
    "And why are we here, anyway? These don't look much different than
the fields by our school," Hatta said.
    "Because there are more girls here," Komatsu said with a perverted
giggle.
    Hatta smiled. "I was beginning to think your newfound love of
movies had neutered you."
    "Have to keep an eye out for Akane, though," Komatsu said. When
Akane was around, he wasn't able to hit on girls. He felt threatened
in a way he couldn't quite explain. Hatta seemed to feel the same way.
    Komatsu checked his watch. "What's taking them so long, anyway?
We got let out half-an-hour ago."
    As if in answer, at that very moment, the school's bell rung for
the final time that day.


    "This place is going to suck without you," Michi said.
    "That's so true!" Chie said. "Everyone was saying that.
Chikako-sensei was crying her eyes out when she heard!"
    Akane continued to stare at the school building from her bench
across the street.
    "Yeah, well, sometimes sacrifices have to be made," Akane said in
a haunted tone.
    Chie squinted. "What are you talking about?"
    Akane finally turned to her friends. "Never mind. Everything's
going to be all right. We'll still be able to see each other on the
weekends," she said.
    "But who's going to show the teachers their place?" Michi asked.
    "Who's going to force us to have extraordinary lives?" Chie asked.
"Without you, the school's...normal." She spat out the last word like
a curse.
    Akane jumped to her feet, and held up in her fist. It was a pose
meant to inspire. "I'm moving on to greener pastures, my friends. I
will finally win the love of Ayukawa Madoka!"
    Michi rolled her eyes. "Not THIS again!"


    Madoka? That was a girl's name, Yuki thought. So Kaori had been
right: Akane had only been pretending to be straight!
    Yuki snuck another peek around the tree's trunk. The three girls
were still deep in conversation, and didn't notice her. Yuki moved back
behind the tree and leaned against its trunk.
    This complicated things, of course. She had competition, and her
competitor was an unknown quantity. What kind of girl would it take
to get Akane all weak in the knees?
    Akane was so strong, smart, and popular. What would it take to
make her all gooey inside, and leave her lost for words? Who did she
think about when she was in bed at night and reached down to...
    No, enough of that, Yuki upbraided herself. Just the half-formed
thought had gotten her flushed. She let out a long, hot sigh.
    "Stupid teacher," a male voice growled. Yuki looked over and saw
two guys crossing the street. One of them had something hanging around
his neck that looked like half of a pair of binoculars. She had the
strangest feeling she'd seen them before.
    "You gave up too easy! You don't think she was really going to
call the cops, do you?" the one with glasses asked.
    The first one didn't reply to his friend, as he had noticed Yuki.
He rushed over to her.
    "Hello cutie, I haven't seen you around before," he said.
    Yuki narrowed her eyes at him. She had trouble understanding the
attraction women had to men in general, but she couldn't conceive of
how someone could possibly find a slug like this attractive.
    She was about to use some colorful language to get rid of him,
when she heard Akane chortle. She felt a hot spike of anger stab
into her chest. She'd felt this once before, when she'd seen Akane
hugging that Kyohiro guy: bitter, bitter jealousy.
    Suddenly she felt a release, and the wonderful feeling of
weightlessness that comes with intuitive insight: she knew how she
could make Akane notice her. Jealousy.
    "I think I would've remembered seeing someone like you," Yuki
said, in saccharine tones. "You from around here?"
    "Ah, no. We don't go here...well, obviously, we got to Koryou,
and, uh..." the guy just stared at the ground for a few moments.
    Yuki walked closer to him, getting inside his comfort zone. He
gulped as he stared at her. This was going to be so easy.


    School had been over for two hours, and the wind had gained a
chill. Akane found it refreshing.
    "So... I guess this is it," Chie said. Akane imagined she saw
tears in her eyes.
    Akane checked her watch and frowned. "Yeah, time to go face the
music."
    "Perhaps we'll go to the same college," Michi said.
    Akane smiled, and rubbed Michi's cheek. "Pollyannaish to the very
end, ne?"
    Akane turned as she heard a familiar voice from a nearby grove of
trees. Yuki emerged from the grove, followed by Komatsu and Hatta.
    "Don't worry, silly boy, of course I'll call you," Yuki said. She
caught Akane's eye, and pulled a business card out of her breast pocket
and handed it to Komatsu. "But you can call me first if you want."
    "Oh! Oh, thank you!" Komatsu said.
    Akane raised both eyebrows in surprise. Some poor girl had finally
taken an interest in Komatsu. She felt her heart warm, and she found
herself smiling glibly. Although she wouldn't have chosen to inflict
Komatsu on anyone, much less Yuki, Akane was glad she'd finally found
someone.


                             End Part 1

* - for Yuki's introduction see Volume 13, story 9 of the manga.
(v.8, story 4 in the wideband.)
Script available here:
http://www.animeraiders.com/creed/Kortrans/Korw0804.txt

----------
From: Chris Schumacher <kensu__@hotmail.com>
Subject: [KOR][FanFic] Spring Wonder pt. 2
X-Original-Date: Wed, 31 Jan 2007 14:05:02 -0600



Kimagure Orange Road
Spring Wonder
Chapter 2

     The dark blue horizon was rimmed in red as the sun struggled to
rise above it. The park's grasses were inching back towards a healthy
shade of green; the frozen dew on them sparkled. 
     The air was clean and had a chill that only an athlete could
appreciate. Akane filled her lungs with the crisp, clean airs until
she felt as if her lungs would explode. She then let it out in exhales
which were indiscernible from sighs of contentment. She cycled air
rapidly,
as she jogged down the sidewalks of her hometown.     
     Track season was more than five months in the past, or three into
the future; but that isn't why she was running.
     She'd had trouble sleeping, in anticipation of this day that was
slowly dawning. There was something special, almost ethereal, about
doing something for the first time.
     Today would be her first day at Koryou, the school where her
cousin Kyosuke, and the love of her life Madoka, went. She hoped it
would be the beginning of a new period in her life. 
     She had been so deep in thought that she'd made the last few
turns on auto-pilot, and hadn't realized she was on her own street.
She skidded to a halt in front of her apartment building and flew up
the stairs and into the entryway.
     As she was showering she began to reflect on the gravity of what
she was doing. She'd given up her old school for this--a school she'd
loved. She could only hope that it would be worth it.
     She slapped both her cheeks to bring herself back to reality. Of
course it was worth it. She had to remember why she was doing this.
     Her shower done, she wrapped herself up in a towel and walked
back to her bedroom. She threw open her closet, where her new outfit
was hanging. It was a nice ensemble: a lace-up top with frilly 
sleeves. Below it was a khaki miniskirt with a very chic belt with a
double-toothed metal buckle.
     She'd bought the new clothes in Shibuya, though she didn't pick
them out, oddly enough. When she was waiting at the local station for
her train, she'd run into Komatsu. He was taking measurements with a
light meter, looking bored and despondent. Akane would too, if she
were Komatsu. She didn't think he had a snowball's chance of getting
into a good school. She suspected he knew that.
     It was then that Akane realized that Komatsu might have a better
idea of what would be considered fashionable that she would. She
couldn't believe all the strange conversations she'd overheard Komatsu
and Hatta having about women's clothes.
     Komatsu was more than happy to have an excuse to hang around a
women's clothing store in Shibuya and came along. Akane went along
with it mostly as a joke at first, but his comments had ended up
being extremely insightful.
     Akane took the two hangers out of the closet, and looked at the
rows of Hoshi uniforms that she hadn't taken down yet. It was a good
opportunity for her, since she didn't have the Koryou uniform yet,
she could wear anything she liked the first few days. Fortunately her
mother hadn't made a special trip to get her a new uniform.
     Her parents had been oddly silent about the whole thing. They
were uncomfortable about why she was expelled--but they still thought
she should've had more tact. But when she seemed so dedicated to
making
a fresh new start, they became confounded. As such, she hadn't been
yelled at at all, and her parents didn't mind the money they spent in
Shibuya. (Fortunately her mother didn't know that there were a few
shops in Shibuya that sold uniforms.) Or the money she'd spent on the
manicure. Though they did ask about the shouts and frequent swearing
coming from the bathroom as she brushed all of the gnarls out of her
hair. She really regretted wearing a ponytail.
     Akane rushed out the front door, being careful that her parents
didn't see her. She would have trouble explaining her attire. As she
rushed down the streets, she realized that she was going to be about
an hour early to school. This was unfortunate, since Madoka tended to
be late far more often than early. She wondered what she would do with
the time.

                              ->   ->   ->

     "Time to get up!"
     "Mfff... Go away," Yuki mumbled.
     Sakurai yanked the blanket off of the bed, causing Yuki to
shiver.
     "Damn it, mom!" she shouted, finally opening her eyes.
     "I want you at the breakfast table in twenty minutes!" she looked
down at her watch and pretended to press a button on the side. "Mark!"
     Seventeen minutes later, Yuki staggered to the table.
     Sakurai slid a soup bowl in front of her daughter. Yuki's hands
fumbled for the coffee pot and filled her cup.
     "You're rather out of it, I thought you went to bed at 9," 
Sakurai said.
     "Maybe I slept too long," Yuki mumbled.
     Sakurai went back to her breakfast, trying hard to appear 
indifferent. Yuki had been moody all weekend, and Sakurai was tired of
trying to get her daughter to open up.
     She wondered if it had something to do with a boy. However, Yuki
hadn't shown any interest in boys. Whenever Sakurai brought up the
subject, Yuki simply rolled her eyes. Of course, that's what Sakurai
expected from a teenager.
     She remembered how secretive she'd been at Yuki's age. She
wondered about all the things that Yuki had done or been involved with
that she would never know about. It made Sakurai worry, considering
the things she'd been into at Yuki's age.
     Sakurai found herself not being to understand her daughter. A
month into junior high she had joined the track team: it spite of the
fact that Yuki hated every sport under the sun.
     She'd started watching baseball games with her father, and had
long conversations about batting averages and trades. At the same
time, Yuki hadn't painted a brushstoke in over a year. All her 
acrylics were withered up in their boxes, and there were five
canvases in the basement that had never even been touched.
     As Sakurai looked across the breakfast table every morning, she
discovered that she recognized her daughter less and less.
     "What're you staring at?" Yuki said with a scowl. A scowl she'd
seen far too often these days.
     "Nothing," Sakurai said with a sigh. "You'd better get ready for
school."

                              ->   ->   ->

     "Okay, so these invisible forces: fate and time, disintegrate
his body. Next thing he knows, he wakes up on this cliff, feeling
disoriented. He jumps to his feet and walks to the edge of the cliff
and stares down onto this vast, blasted plain. He sees the eternal war
between Demons and Devils. The war that his deeds, which he has only
recently been able to remember, have damned him to be part of for all
eternity.
     "Looking down at that eternal punishment, we hold on this damned
soul, as it sinks in where he is, what's happened; and he feels that
complete and total regret. But he gets over it, he runs over to a
nearby corpse and picks up its weapon and runs down to join the fight.
     "Because, you see, although he is damned, he isn't running
anymore. He's doing the right thing, and there is some solace in that.
And as he does so, the question that defined the whole thing echoes
back to him-"
     "All right, all right!" Komatsu said, exasperated. "I've heard
enough. Look, it's a nice story and all, but it's not really our bag.
We're going to go ahead with the 47 Ronin in Space and the Princess
of Silence."
     The exchange-student furrowed his brow. After a moment he made
a gesture with one hand, said "Screw you guys!", and walked away
across the school's courtyard.
     "Impudent punk," Komatsu said. "In a few years, when I'm the
leading light of a new generation of Japanese filmmakers, he'll be
sorry he was so rude."
     "I did kind of like the bit with the rats, and the brothel,"
Hatta said. "Which reminds me, doesn't 'The 47 Ronin and The Princess
of Silence' sound like the title of a porno?"
     "That's just a happy coincidence. It's like Naked Lunch, by the
time they realize it isn't, we'll already have their money," Komatsu
said.
     Hatta stared, slack-jawed, off into the distance.
     "What're you drooling at?" Komatsu asked, then turned around.
Then he understood. He reached over and closed Hatta's jaw for him.
"Don't bother, she doesn't like guys."
     "I was always so scared of her that I never noticed... Damn, has
Akane ever got a BODY!" Hatta said.
     "Don't bother, it's hopeless. No use burning yourself out for
something you can't ever have," Komatsu said.
     "But isn't that what we always do?" Hatta said.
     "Hey! We've been on dates!" Komatsu said, then paused. "And, I
have a girlfriend now, you ass!"
     "Maybe it's just a phase she's going through," Hatta said. "Maybe
she's just toying with the idea of being a lesbian."
     "Did you ever toy with the idea of being gay?" Komatsu asked.
     "No! Who would want to do another guy? Yuck!" Hatta said.
     "Why would it be any different with girls?" Komatsu said.
     "Well... LOOK at them! I mean, damn, how could you not adore that
soft skin and all those wonderful curves..." Hatta said, his face
flushing. "Besides, since when are you so understanding about these
matters?"
     "I had a long talk with Akane the other day. She has it bad for
someone of the female persuasion. She wouldn't tell me who, though,"
Komatsu said.
     "I wish I knew, then I'd be able to have an accurate fantasy,"
Hatta said with a stupid grin.
     "Dude, I said we're not going to talk about that anymore!"
Komatsu said.

                              ->   ->   ->

     Kyosuke was defending his choice of corn-cob holders as an
anniversary gift for Ayukawa's parents when she went slack-jawed. He
quickly turned to follow her gaze, and his jaw assumed a similar
posture.
     "What's Akane doing here?" Ayukawa asked.
     "Hooking, if those clothes are any indication," Kyosuke said.
     He felt a sudden surge of pain in his right arm as Ayukawa
punched
it.
     "I have an outfit like that!" Ayukawa said.
     "Yeah? How come you never wear it around me?" Kyosuke asked.
     He got punched in the left arm for that one.
     "Hey guys!" Akane said as she approached.
     "Hi cuz, what're you doing here?" Kyosuke asked. "Is your school
off today; or did you get expelled?"
     "Well, as a matter of fact..." Akane said.
     

     After a few moments of shocked silence, Akane explained the
situation to her cousin and Madoka. Naturally leaving out the exact
circumstances of why she was in the headmistress's office to begin
with.
     "But why are you dressed like that?" Kyosuke asked.
     "Well, I haven't had a chance to get the Kouryou uniform yet,
so I figured I'd just wear my street clothes," Akane said.
     Kyosuke was about to say something, but Madoka cut him off.
     "They're very becoming on you, Akane. Are they new?" Madoka
asked.
     "Yeah, I got them in Shibuya a few...weeks ago," Akane said. Then
she blushed. "I haven't had the nerve to wear them outside the house
before."
     Madoka smiled tenderly. "Ah, we all need to show off once in a
while. Especially with a body like yours."
     Kyosuke started to go a little red, his lips quivered, and Akane
could hear the squeaking of his teeth grinding together; but he said
nothing.
     "However, I think you should've worn your old uniform," Madoka
said. "It wouldn't do to get in trouble on your first day. Especially
considering how you ended up here."
     "I...." Akane said.
     "Run home and change," Madoka said. "If you don't get back in
time, Kasuga and I'll run interference for you."
     "Well... Uh, okay," Akane said.
     She took to her heels and ran, taking curves at dangerous speeds,
cutting through people's yards, and jumping over fences as she went.
     She knew she should feel embarrassed: and she did, a little. But
the clothes had served their purpose: she'd just been complimented by
Madoka! And Madoka was willing to get in trouble to save her 
reputation.
     With each passing day, Akane felt herself falling more and more
in love with Madoka.
     As she barreled down an alley, some salaryman wolf-whislted at
her. On impulse, she threw an illusion at him: made him think he was
being attacked by a snake. She didn't know what kind of snake, since
she wasn't well versed in ophiology, but it looked like a cross
between a boa-constrictor and a cobra.
     But then Akane skidded to a halt. Why was she attacking him?
She dressed like this so she would get this sort of reaction. Why
punish him for responding the way she intended?
     The illusion vanished from around the cowering salaryman. Akane
resumed running. Well, at least he'd have an interesting story to
tell the guys at work.

                             ->   ->   ->

     When Manami got down to the courtyard picnic table where she
often ate her lunch, she found Komatsu sitting against a tree and
singing.
     "Oooh-ooh, ooo-ooh, Lloyds of London. Oooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, Lloyds
of London," he belted out.
     Manami sat down on the bench nearest him and took out a piece of
paper with crudely scrawled hiragana on it and showed it to him.
"What did you want to see me about?"
     Komatsu jumped to his feet and sat on the bench across from her.
     "It's about the movie," Komatsu said.
     "Look, I already told you I'm in. You can stop begging," Manami
said.
     "Uh... I'm afraid that's not it. Quite the opposite, in fact,"
Komatsu said.
     Manami turned that around in her head. What would the opposite of
"I'm in" be? Everyone but me in the world is out? No...wait, that was
the complement. Then she got it.
     "You're... firing me?" Manami said. That didn't sound right, she
didn't think Komatsu would ever be in the position to fire anyone.
     "I'd be happy to have you on as an extra, but the thing is that
I've found someone else. You would've made a good Princess of Silence,
Manami, but this girl was born to play it. I mean, why have Patty
Duke play Princess Leia when you've got Carrie Fisher, ya know what
I'm saying?"
     Who the hell was Patty Duke? Manami was about to protest, but
Komatsu was already rising.
     "Sorry I have to cut this short, but I'm meeting a friend 
off-campus for lunch," Komatsu said.
     "You can't leave campus for lunch," Manami said; it was the only
clear thought in her head.
     "Then this will have to be our little secret, sweet cheeks. See
you in the funny papers," Komatsu climbed the tree and proceeded to
jump over the fence; in spite of the fact that the gate was ten feet
away, and open. He always had to be so theatrical.
     Manami ate her lunch in silence for several minutes, until Hatta
arrived.
     "You look bummed," Hatta said. "I suppose he told you."
     "I don't know if I'm more hurt or confused," Manami said.
     "Yeah, he isn't acting like himself anymore. It's that skirt he's
going out with," Hatta said.
     "He's got a girlfriend?!" Manami said, ashamed that she sounded
so surprised.
     "That girl is all he can see anymore. You wouldn't believe all 
the great fight scenes he cut out of the script so his girlfriend 
could have more lines. Damned studio couch!" Hatta said.
     Manami spit her milk across the table.

                              ->   ->   ->

     Yuki chewed on her tasteless lunch and gazed over the treetops
with an ambivalent mix of apathy and profound longing.
     She wasn't supposed to be on the roof. Since it was against the 
rules to come up here, it meant she was able to eat her lunch in 
solitude. Or so she thought.
     Several people ate their lunch in the courtyard twenty feet
beneath her dangling feet. Kaori had come out and was calling her
name.
     "Yo!" Yuki said.
     It took a few moments for Kaori to figure out where her voice was
coming from. She craned her neck to look up at her friend.
     "What are you doing up there?" Kaori asked.
     She hadn't needed to raise her voice. Yuki always wondered why
you had to shout to be heard over horizontal distances, but not
vertical ones.
     "Eating; and thinking," Yuki said.
     "Coach Watanabe wants to see you," Kaori said.
     Yuki groaned. "I'm eating lunch." She didn't mention that it 
wasn't giving her much enjoyment, though.
     "She made it sound like it was important," Kaori said.
     Yuki sighed, nodded in assent, and rose to her feet. She crumpled
up her lunch bag and threw it into the wastebasket twenty feet below.
It bounced off the rim and sunk into the liner. The lunch-eating
students below started cheering.


     As Yuki walked down to Coach Watanabe's office, she wondered what
Watanabe could possibly want. She hoped that the coach wasn't going to
make a pass at her. Watanabe was a little long in the tooth for her
tastes.
     "What up, coach?" Yuki asked as she walked into the office.
     Watanabe looked up from her submarine sandwich. Geez, didn't
anyone eat Japanese food for lunch anymore?
     "Ah, Yuki. Please, sit down," she indicated a chair.
     "Something up?" Yuki asked.
     This was the first time she'd talked to her old coach since the
end of the track season last September. Yuki hadn't expected to see
her for at least another month.
     "I assume you intend to try out for track again this year?"
Watanabe said.
     Yuki almost went with her knee-jerk reaction of 'yes', but then
remembered that Akane wouldn't be on her team. In the fall and winter
she'd enjoyed not going to practice. She liked having more time to do
homework and goof-off.
     "I'm sort of one the fence right now," Yuki said. "Truth be
told."
     "It would be a horrible mistake if you didn't come back. You have
genuine track abilities," Watanabe said.
     Yuki started to blush, but then gave Watanabe a strange look. How
could she have possibly know she was ambivalent about coming back?
Even Yuki hadn't known until a couple of minutes ago.
     "Coach... Why did you call me down here?" Yuki said.
     "Now that Akane is gone, we need a new team captain. We need a
natural athlete that is likable and can lead the other team members.
At the end of the day, the team captain teaches the team more than
even the coach does... It takes an exceptional person to perform that
job, Yuki. I believe that person could be you," Watanabe said.
     Yuki almost jumped from her chair. She always thought that was
an expression; but the surprise caused jolts to go through the
muscles in her legs, and it was hard to keep seated.
     "Coach, I don't think I could even make a passable team captain;
much less follow an act like Akane," Yuki said. "Besides, I'm just
a sophomore. I'm not even an upperclassmen yet."
     "Don't misunderstand me, Yuki. I've had my eye on you since day
one. Even if Akane was still here, I still would've seriously 
considered making you team captain anyway," Watanabe said.
     "Uh huh," Yuki said.
     Watanabe gave her a strange look. Then she rose and walked over
to the window, she motioned for Yuki to follow her.
     "Look at them down there, I saw what happened with the trash
can. How do you account for a reaction like that?" Watanabe said.
     "It was a lucky shot," Yuki said. "That impressed people."
     "It's so much more than that, Yuki. I don't know why you can't
see it, but you've made an impact. You've become popular without even
trying. You're a genuine celebrity," Watanabe said.
     Yuki stared down at the crowd of lunch-eaters and let the coach's
words sink in. Did the other kids really like her that much? She
hadn't
noticed.
     "I don't want to be a celebrity," Yuki said. It was true, there
was only one thing she wanted: and it seemed forever beyond her reach.
     "I know that you worshipped Akane, Yuki," Watanabe said. "But
perhaps it's your time in the spotlight now."
     "You'd be surprised how unmoved I am by all of this," Yuki said.
     "How can you be so pigheaded?" Watanabe shouted. "Can't you think
of the team? They need you!"
     Ah, the old 'team player' strategy. Yuki walked away from the
window, past the chair, and towards the door.
     "I'm sorry, Watanabe-sensei. I honestly am; but this isn't who I
am anymore. Give my best to the team," Yuki said.

                              ->   ->   ->

     It was Akane's first math class at her new school--and she was
bored out of her mind. She had been continuously writing and rewriting
a note to Madoka in her mind; but that was difficult to do with the
teacher yapping on about Jacobians.
     Akane finally decided to make simplicity and forthrightness her
watchword. She folded the note up and--when the teacher's attention
was elsewhere--flung the note across the aisle.


     Kyosuke's field of vision was momentarily interrupted by a white
flash. His glance jerked along its trajectory, and he saw a piece of
folded paper land squarely in Ayukawa's lap.
     A note? Who would...
     Then Kyosuke remembered who sat across the aisle from Ayukawa
now. This couldn't possibly be good.


               M-sama,
               Are you working after school today?
                              -A-san
     Madoka tore a sheet of paper out of her notebook and started on a
note of her own.


               A-san,
               No, I'm not. Did you have something
               in mind?
                         -Madoka
     Akane couldn't help but stare at the note in admiration for
several
moments. Madoka had such beautiful penmanship. Akane wondered how
adept
she would be with an inkstone and brush.

               M-sama,
               Would you like to go for coffee after
               school? I know a good place in Omiya.
                              -A-san
     Akane flipped her pen back-and-forth between her fingers like a
see-saw. Omiya was far enough away to make it unlikely they would run
into anyone they knew. Well, anyone she knew. Old acquaintances of
Madoka showed up in the oddest places. Even in Saitama.
     She also believed she made it clear that it would only be the
two of them...
     Somewhat satisfied, she folded up the note and tossed it across
the aisle. Less than a minute later, a reply landed on the desk in
front of her.
                    Love to. =)
                    -Madoka
     Akane' heart began to race. Her plan was working. It was actually
working!

                              ->   ->   ->

     A couple of miles south of Koryou High School, past the JR-line
tracks, the ground rises twenty feet in less than a foot of space,
making a large and moss-covered cliff.
     Because of this sudden rising, it was possible to look out the
window of a 9th floor apartment and be at eye level with the man
working
in the garden next door.
     Also on this immense cliff was a small park. Sitting beneath a
tree
during this lazy afternoon in April were two people who seemed to be
very
much in love. Which just goes to show how deceptive looks can be.


     Yuki moaned as Komatsu rubbed her shoulders. "Mmmm, I have such
a wonderful boyfriend."
     "Does he know about me?" Komatsu asked.
     Yuki laughed and let herself fall farther back into Komatsu's
arms. He really did seem to have the magic touch.
     "Akane seems to be fitting in, in case you were wondering. Oh!
Are you okay? You just stiffened up there..." Komatsu said.
     Yuki shrugged it, and Komatsu, off. "It's nothing, my muscles are
just a little sore. We were doing gymnastics in gym class today."
     "Oh?" Komatsu said, salivating. "I would've loved to have seen
you in one of those tight leotards."
     Yuki felt good in spite of herself. Yes, he was a pig, but it
felt good to know SOMEONE appreciated that she was in shape.
     "Do you want to do something this weekend?" Komatsu said.
     "We have finals coming up: don't you?" Yuki said.
     "Yeah, well, I never study for them," Komatsu said.
     "You're that good, huh?" Yuki said.
     "Well... It's more that I don't really care," Komatsu said. His
laugh was that of a boy who knew he should be ashamed but wasn't.
     "Sorry, but I have to study. If I don't keep my grades up,
they'll
kick me off..." Yuki said. "You know, I think that's a good idea. Are
there any movies you want to see?"
     "Nah, that's so impersonal. I'd rather do something where we
could
get to know each other better," Komatsu said.
     Yuki felt a pang in her chest. Komatsu would make someone a very
good boyfriend, she thought. He was deeper than he appeared at first.
She couldn't believe that they'd been here for more than an hour and
he hadn't brought up his stupid movie or movie-making even once.
     He really was a nice guy, after all. They could be friends; even
good friends; but nothing more. She just didn't swing that way.

     How lucky I am, thought Komatsu. This had started out as
flirting,
and even for the first couple of dates he hadn't taken this seriously.
He'd just stick around until he lost his virginity, then he'd be on
to someone else...
     Or so he'd thought at first. He was ashamed of his original 
attitude. This girl was warm, caring, interesting; she was... a
person.
Who would've thought that within that pretty head of hers were
thoughts
as deep and complex as his own?
     He never would've believed it, but he was falling in love with
Yuki. What a lucky man he was.

                              ->   ->   ->

     Omiya was a good 45-minutes by train. Akane spent most of the
time working their coffee-conversation over in her head. The train was
too noisy and public to have any meaningful conversation.
     After some light conversation, Madoka blind-sided Akane with a 
question she'd grown tired of: "Have you thought about what university
you're going to apply to?"
     "I thought Koryou had an escalator system," Akane said, suddenly
realizing that her stall for time had raised a legitimate point.
     "There's no college, though, it stops at high school," Madoka
said.
     Stupid Akane, she chastised herself. She'd spent over two weeks
going over those stupid pamphlets and handbooks as she went through
the lengthy process to get accepted into Madoka's school. She imagined
she wouldn't have been allowed entry if it weren't for the ten letters
of recommendation from her teachers at Hoshi's.
     "Well, I'm not really sure what I want to be yet," Akane said.
"What are you thinking?"
     "My parents want me to go to school in America," Madoka said.
     Akane felt her body temperature drop ten degrees. Though, oddly,
her chair felt warmer.
     "Oh," was all she managed.
     "I'd rather stay around here, though," Madoka said.
     "Oh," Akane said cheerfully.
     "So, you have no idea what you want to do when you grow up?"
Madoka said.
     "Does that sound so unusual?" Akane said.
     "I suppose not. It's just strange to me, since I've known since
I was a a kid," Madoka said.
     "Really?" Akane said, blinking in surprise. "How did getting into
gang fights as a kid fit into you plans as a musician?"
     Madoka looked embarrassed, but she also adopted a smile that
Akane
thought was genuine.
     "Hikaru told you about those, huh?" Madoka said.
     "We talked at lunch," Akane noted.
     "My parents wanted me to be a musician; so naturally I rebelled.
It didn't matter that I was good at it, and secretly liked it. Just
the fact that my parents approved was enough to make me hate it,"
Madoka said.
     "So you finally matured and accepted it," Akane said. Madoka was
so cool!
     "Well, no, I took up the saxophone," Madoka said. "My dad blew
his top at first. You'd think someone who loved music as much as him
would appreciate jazz. Finally he grew to accept it.
     The trick is this: do what you're best at, but do it on your own
terms."
     "But don't you still play the piano?" Akane asked.
     Madoka shrugged. "I don't think we can ever completely escape our
parent's expectations."
     That statement sounded far more ominous that Akane suspected
Madoka intended.

                              ->   ->   ->     

     Late that Afternoon Akane, jittery on caffeine and high on
endorphins, returned home and went up to her room. She hummed a jaunty
tune to herself as she dug through the pile of mail on her desk.
The usual stuff--pamphlets from colleges that wanted her to attend
because of her apparent athletic prowess. Among them she found a
pamphlet for a charm school. She would've been insulted if she hadn't
ordered it.
     She pushed the mound of other pamphlets to the floor with her
arm; then sat down to look over her chosen pamphlet.
     She sighed longingly as she looked at the pictures of cute young
women in ball gowns, kimonos, and other types of formal wear. It made
her feel warm in a very personal place.
     After a few minutes of looking at the pamphlet and dreaming, she
let it fall closed and looked out the window at the setting sun. She'd
need training in the matters of polite society if she wanted to join
Madoka in it. But she couldn't ask her parents to pay for it. There
would be too many questions...
     She opened up the pamphlet to the last page and looked at the
figures. She could probably pay for the school with a part-time job.
She smiled as she realized another point of kinship with Madoka. They
would be defying school rules together. 

                              ->   ->   ->

     Two weeks passed. Two long, balmy, wonderful spring weeks. Then a
gigantic storm struck Tokyo, leaving the Kyosuke's huddled in the
basement of Green Castle apartments for the better part of a night.
The next day the students of Koryou High School found their usual
class schedule canceled. This would normally be a cause for
celebration--
but the grueling cognitive labor had been replaced with grueling
physical labor. It was their job to clean up the storm's effects on
the school grounds.

     "Put your backs into it!" Komatsu shouted.
     "How the hell are we supposed to do that when we're picking up
leaves?" Hatta asked.
     "Dunno. I just know that what's you're supposed to say when
people are slacking off," Hatta said.
     "Maybe we'd be more apt to work if our fearless leader was
actually helping," Hatta said, holding the trash-stick up
threateningly.
     "I'm an overseer, that means my job is to see. Now how can I see
over you guys when I'm down there in the muck with you?" Komatsu said.
It wasn't just a clever phrase: this area of the yard was covered with
mud. Komatsu suspected that's why the headmaster had assigned his
group there.
     Komatsu suddenly stiffened his pose. "Look alive and decent
chaps,
a member of the fairer sex is approaching!"

     Komatsu was the only member of his crew that wasn't completely
covered in mud. He was also the only one wearing the plastic apron
that the teachers had handed out that morning.
     "Hello Manami, beautiful day, isn't it?" Komatsu said.
     It wasn't. The sky was covered with grey clouds, and an 
unpleasant chill was in the air; reminding them that winter wasn't
going
to be forgotten so easily.
     "How's it going over here?" Manami asked.
     "Oh, I'd say we're almost done," Komatsu said.
     Hatta mimed stabbing Komatsu in the back with his trash picker.
Manami almost smiled.
     "Listen, can you ditch these guys for a minute, I want to talk to
you," Manami said.
     "Oooh, Manami's suddenly become a bad girl?" Hatta said. "Hatta
like!"
     Komatsu ignored him and walked off with Manami.
     They walked up the hill and into the small valley between the
line of trees and the stone wall. Manami wondered how many times
Komatsu had dreamed of her--or any girl--taking him here; and then
doing all kinds of things that would probably hurt on a ground
covered with pine needles.
     Manami wondered how she'd start; she'd never had a conversation
like this before. It certainly didn't help that there relationship
had never been clearly defined to begin with-
     "Look Manami, if this is about the Princess of Silence. I'm sorry
I took you out of the loop on that one. But it isn't really tenable
to change things at this point. Yuki has really put her heart into the
role. You can still be an extra, though," Komatsu said.
     "This isn't about your stupid movie!" Manami said, feeling her
face grow hot and her throat grow raw.
     Manami realized something was truly wrong when Komatsu didn't
even notice her outburst. He was looking into the distance with a
dopey look on his face.
     "She's so wonderful, you know, she can feel everything so deeply.
I'm so lucky I found her..." Komatsu said.
     Manami just stared at him, dumbfounded. So this is what love is.
She felt her stomach churn as she realized that Komatsu had never been
that way around her.
   

     "Why should you never wave to Hatta while he's raking leaves?"
     "I dunno, why?"
     "Because he'll fall out of the tree."
     Laughter. Akane tied up the trashbag and threw it onto a pile of
the same. Over the past four hours they'd de-twigged and de-weeded
the school's entire front lawn, and helped moved a fallen tree onto a
dump-truck; but Akane wasn't tired at all. She felt that she could
do this forever.
     Higuchi-sensei came by with a clipboard. She gawked at the large
pile of garbage bags that the two of them had amassed.
     "What next?" Akane asked.
     "Ah, Akane-san, Madoka-san... I think you've done enough," she
said, bemused. "Why don't you just relax until the headmaster calls
everyone in."
     Higuchi-sensei walked off, occasionally turning her head to give
them a bewildered look.
     "Well, what do we do now?" Madoka asked.
     Akane motioned to the large grassy hill that overlooked the
athletic fields. "You wanna cloud watch?"
     "Geez, I haven't done that since I was about nine or so," Madoka
said.
     "Then you're vastly overdue," Akane said. "Come on," she said,
grabbing Madoka's hand.

     
     "I just don't understand boys," Manami moaned.
     "Not much to understand," Kurumi said. She was fighting to bring
a human-powered mower out of the shed. It's been made her task after
smarting off to Aoki-sensei. But the last laugh would be on Aoki
sensei when Kurumi turned it into a psi-powered mower.
     Kurumi finally managed to get it through the door, but it took
a plank-worth of door along as it did so.
     "But Komatsu's been after me since the day we met; why's he
suddenly going after that Hoshi school tart?" Manami asked.
     Kurumi raised one-eyebrow as she looked at her twin sister.
Manami usually never insulted anyone; she must've been really hurt.
She chose her next words carefully.
     "Well, it's pretty hard to ignore someone who's throwing 
themselves at you," Kurumi said. "That Yuki girl is putting it on
pretty darn thick. I think she wants to ride the baloney pony, if you
know what I'm saying."
     Manami blushed; obviously she did. Then something flashed across
Kurumi's mind.
     "Maybe Komatsu never thought of you in that way before," Kurumi
said.
     "Oh come on," Manami said. "I know I'm not much to look at, but
this is Komatsu we're talking about."
     "Well, a lot of people see you as the mommy type; and that's not
really sexy," Kurumi said.
     "I take the irony of that statement is lost on you?" Manami said.
     Kurumi brushed it off with a flippant toss of her hand. "Doesn't
matter, it's still true."
     "Well, I guess..." Manami said. "But what can I do about it?"
     "Let your wild side out," Kurumi said. "It'll be good for you.
If you keep all that inside, you're eventually going to explode."
     "I tried letting it out... once. It didn't go all that well,"
Manami said.
     "Maybe you should try something a little more personal first..."
Kurumi said.
     "What are you talking about?" Manami said.
     "Well... You know, 'get to know yourself'," Kurumi said.
     "Like, what, psychotherapy?" Manami asked.
     Kurumi shook her head furiously. How could her sister be so dense
sometimes? 
     "No, you lay down and you...," Kurumi gritted her teeth. 
"Fingerpaint."
     "Wouldn't you get paint all over if you laid down while doing
that?" Manami asked innocently.
     "NO! You... give yourself the finger; tickle the taco; slap the
south mouth..." Kurumi said.
     Manami slowly seemed to be getting it. "You mean..."
     "Yes," Kurumi shouted. "YOU MASTURBATE!"
     Her voice echoed near and far; and Kurumi thought Manami had
been blushing before. She was surprised when her sister spoke.
     "How exactly does one... get to know oneself?" Manami asked.
     Kurumi shook her head and walked off. "I'm not going to tell ya. 
The real joy comes from figuring that out on your own. Good luck."

                              ->   ->   ->

     "Hmmm, I don't think so, do you have this in a Yaoi?" the 
pimple-faced girl asked.
     "For god's sake, can't you little girls ever read a manga that
doesn't have two guys humping somewhere in it?!" Akane said.
     "What're you, some sort of bigot?" the girl said, stiffening.
     Akane snorted and turned back towards the shelves. The covers
were a sea of pink and red; Akane scanned the covers.
     "I'm sorry, I think that's all there is. I don't think there's
a Yaoi version of Buddha's story," Akane said.
     "Drat," the girl said.
     "What did you want one for, anyway?" Akane asked.
     "My mom thinks the manga I'm reading are rotting my mind. She
says I can't read anything now that doesn't have some historical or
Buddhist junk in it," the girl said.
     Poor girl, Akane thought. Her parents had been like that too.
She'd had to buy her Yuri manga in secret and hide them under her
futon. Then something occurred to her; she walked along the aisle and
finally picked something off the shelf.
     "You ever read this?" Akane asked.
     "Hinotori? No; doesn't look like something I'd like," the girl
said.
     "It's a little more subtle than most, but this one's got a lot
of homoerotic overtones in it. There's this one part where a guy puts
another guy's engorged nose in my mouth. Allegedly to bring down the
swelling; of course, we know how that works," Akane said, bouncing
her eyebrows.
     The girl took it, looked at it dubiously for a moment, then 
nodded. Akane rung her up and she left with a smile. Another satisfied
customer, Akane thought to herself, feeling an odd warmth inside her
chest. She couldn't imagine any worse fate than working in a manga
store for the rest of her life; but it did have its good points.
     She checked her watch and felt giddy. It was almost time. She
untied her apron and popped her head into the backroom.
     "Hey manager, I'm taking off," Akane said.
     The manager didn't look up from the stack of books he was
sorting.
"Can't you wait until Kaori gets here?"
     "I don't want to be late. First day and all," Akane said.
     Manager said. "All right, then. Hopefully Charm School will make
you more pleasant to work with."
     Akane smirked. "Don't count on it. Besides, if you didn't like
my style, you would've canned me the first day."
     "The kids do seem to like your attitude. Take care," Manager
said, finally looking up and giving her a smile.
     "Thanks, you too."

                              ->   ->   ->

     They were assembled in the front hall. The hard teak floor made
Akane's sock-clad feet hurt. However, she was so nervous that she
hardly noticed.
     Occasionally she caught the glance of another girl in line; they
all looked as nervous as she felt. In a situation like this, Akane
would usually crack a joke to break the tension. However, a sign on
the
opposite wall said, in beautiful calligraphy: "Speak Only When Spoken
To". Akane decided it was too early to be breaking school rules; even
if she didn't like a piece of paper telling her what to do.
     A door at the far end of the hallway creaked over. Thirty heads
turned to see who came through it. It was a woman, probably in her
fifties. She had grey hair tied in a tight bun with jade chopsticks
sticking out of it. She wore a heavy light-blue kimono and carried
a polished teak walking stick.
     Silently, she walked to the exact center of the line and turned
to face the new students. She took a long moment to stare each of them
in the eye. When she came to Akane, Akane rapidly dropped her eyes to
the floor. She chided herself; but on recollection she realized that
it was the right thing to do.
     After making her small survey of the new girls, she returned to
her original position, gave one last long, hard stare. Then she banged
her walking stick on the floor. The sound of teak on teak sounded like
a gunshot and Akane felt the girls on either side of her jump. She
sub-vocalized something herself; though she wasn't sure what it was.
     "Follow," the teacher said.
     She whirled around and walked through a door on the wall they
were facing. Akane and the rest followed, their orderly arrangement
quickly falling apart.
     Akane found herself in a locker room. Unlike locker rooms at
school, it wasn't damp nor did it smell of armpit. It smelled like
wood polish and incense. On each locker was a label with a name
in gorgeous calligraphy on it. Akane would later learn that the labels
had been created by the previous class, as their last assignment in 
calligraphy.
     Akane found hers and stood before it. She heard the clack of the
walking stick and turned to face the teacher.
     "After you change, meet me across the hall. Be prompt," she said.
She then turned and left. The clacking sound of her stick slowly
faded.
     Akane pulled open the locker (there was no lock). Inside was a
white kimono. A TRUE kimono, the old type that she'd only seen in
movies. The kind she saw Empress Kojun wear on TV.
     She quickly got out of her street clothes and pulled on the
heavy kimono; she needed help from the girl next to her, and Akane
returned the favor in kind. The kimono fit perfectly; which surprised
Akane, even though it shouldn't. She had provided her measurements on
the application form, after all.
     As she went to put her clothes into the locker she saw a silk 
ribbon neatly folded on the bottom. She looked at it, stupefied, for a
moment. Had there been some part of the kimono she'd forgotten to tie?
She looked around and saw a girl with long hair tying the ribbon into
it. Akane quickly picked it up and did the same.
     Next to the door leading out was a full-length mirror. Each girl
checked herself out in it before she went through. When Akane got
there, she looked on in slack-jaw amazement. She hardly recognized
herself. She looked so... eloquent.
     "God," she mumbled. "I don't look like such a punk anymore."
     The girl behind herself started laughing. Akane turned to give
her an angry look, but then she saw the girl's smiling face.
     "It's weird, isn't it?" the girl said. "I didn't think I'd ever
look like a real woman either."
     Akane returned the smile, somewhat relieved. She hadn't wanted
to make an enemy here; at least, not on her first day.
     "I'm Akiko, by the way," the girl said with a slight bow.
     "Akane," Akane said, with the same bow. "It's a pleasure,"
     They walked across the hall together and into what Akane would
later term the classroom. It didn't look like any classroom she'd
ever known.
     There were no chairs, for one thing. There were small desks on
the ground with cushions set in front of them. There was a large
cushion at the front of the room; on which the teacher was sitting.
She was sipping from a tea mug.
     Akane and Akiko took one of the desks near the back. It was an 
old habit to take one near the back; that way the teacher couldn't 
hear them when they chattered. Akane made a mental note to sit closer
to the teacher next time. She actually wanted to learn THIS material.
     "Welcome," the teacher said. Even though her voice was strict,
Akane noted some warmth behind it this time.
     "Do any of you know why you are here?" the teacher said.
     A few raised their hands. Akane sat perfectly still.
     "I suspect a depressingly large number of you are here because
you parents forced you to come here. For that I apologize. However,
you are here; you might as well learn something. Though, be warned: I
will suffer no obstructions. Don't make yourself, and your classmates,
suffer; we did nothing wrong, and your hostility is not warranted and
will not be tolerated," she gave the entire class a mighty glare.
     "Some are here because they believe that what I can teach will
get them ahead in life, or achieve some goal that has alluded them.
I will try not to disappoint; but you are short-changing yourself.
What I will teach is not simply a means to an end, but an end in
itself. I just hope you realize that someday.
     "I cannot know for sure why you took this class: but I will tell
you why I am teaching it. I believe that if we turn our back on our
past that we lose a vital part of ourselves. I believe in no dogmas;
even and especially those that say that everything that is new is
absolutely good. It's inverse is also not true: not everything that
is old is bad.
     "It would do to remember that the physical laws that brought
forth this industrial revolution were discovered over 300 years ago."
the teacher said.
     "I also don't believe in the superiority of the Japanese culture.
Which I'm sure will surprise you," the teacher said.
     Right on, Akane thought.
     "The purpose of these classes is to become citizens of the world.
You will learn French and English while you are here. These are the
two most important languages in the international world. You will also
learn the customs of many different countries. When you are finished,
your specialty will be etiquette and protocol,"
     "Like C-3PO?" someone blurted out. It took a moment for Akane
to recognize it as her own voice.
     The room was filled with laughter; and the teacher turned an
ice cold glare towards her.
     Aw, crumbs.


     Akane sat against the wall and let out a long sigh. Way to go,
she thought. She hadn't even made it an hour without screwing up.
     She can't believe she'd said that. She didn't even like those
movies. Well, except for the third one. She loved the way Leia looked
in that metal bikini; she saw that movie five times when it was at
the theater.
     She heard the door squeak open; she hopped to her feet. The girls
shuffled out, most of them avoiding eye contact. Akiko was one of the
last out; she walked over to Akane.
     "She wants to see you," Akiko said.
     "Did she seem angry?" Akane asked.
     "Can't really tell," Akiko said.
     "What's her name, by the way?" Akane said.
     "Shimizu-san,"
     
     
     "Shimizu-sama?"
     The teacher looked up from her book, and gave Akane a
disapproving
glance.
     "Akane-chan, please sit," Shimizu-sensei said.
     Akane sat down on the nearest cushion. To say that she was
nervous would be an understatement.
     "I'm sorry about-" Akane started.
     Shimizu-sensei shook her head in disappointment. "Speaking out
of turn is always inappropriate; even when apologizing."
     Akane hunched her shoulders and sighed.
     "I took a look at the money-order you paid with," Shimizu-sensei
said. "I noticed it had your own signature on it. Not that of one of
your parents. I'm curious about that."
     Akane waited a moment, Shimizu nodded her head for her to speak.
     "I couldn't ask my parents to pay for this. It's not their fault
I have no manners," Akane said.
     "Is it only manners you seek?" Shimizu-sensei said.
     "I want to be a better person, frankly," Akane said. "I've heard
there's more to life than dating, parties, and soccer games. I'd
like to know if that's true."
     "I believe you were apologizing for something when you came in
here, Akane-chan," Shimizu-sensei said.
     Was she even listening? 
     "Yes, that's true," Akane said. "I'm sorry about speaking out in
class. It was intended as a joke; I'm sorry I disrupted the class.
I just couldn't control myself."
     Shimizu-san nodded. "We come here to become civilized. It is the
purpose of this class to teach us to act against our instincts."
     Akane felt something odd stir in her; she imagined she smelt a
whiff of lavender in the air.
     "I hope you will do well in the future to repress these impulses,
Akane-chan. I look forward to seeing how you progress. You are 
dismissed."

                              ->   ->   ->

     Yuki couldn't believe what she'd seen. It couldn't possibly be
true. Akane, her strong healthy Akane, going into a charm school?
     She walked home, slouched in misery. Akane hadn't been gone even
a month yet, and she'd changed so much. It's amazing what you missed
when you didn't see someone on schooldays.
     She got home and threw her bag onto the kitchen table in a surly
manner. Her mother was cutting carrots and watching one of those
stupid
game shows on a portable TV.
     "Hey honey, how was school?" Mom asked.
     "It was almost adequate," Yuki said.
     "Well, if school wasn't trying, people would never want to 
graduate out of it," Mom said.
     Ah, more homespun wisdom. Days like these, she just couldn't get
enough of it.
     "Mom," Yuki started. Best just to say it. "Can I go to charm
school?"
     Her mom gave a hearty laugh. Then she saw her daughter's eyes.
     "Oh, you're serious," she said, starting to blush.
     "What's so funny about that?" Yuki fumed.
     "It's just, dear, you really don't seem the type," Mom said.
     "Isn't that why people go to charm school?" Yuki said.
     "Don't you want to do something with your life, Yuki? Why would
you want to settle for just having a rich husband?" Mom said.
     "That's the farthest thing from my mind. You can trust me on
that." Yuki said.
     "The answer's no, Yuki," Mom said.
     "All right then, I'll ask dad," Yuki said.
     "Go ahead. He needs a good laugh."


     Yuki looked at the bookshelf and let out a sigh. It was
impossible
to get cultured in this house. Her parents owned nothing but spy and
mystery novels. There weren't even trashy romance novels with
inaccurate historical settings.
     She sat down in her father's leather armchair and sighed. What
was culture anyway? So many people kept gushing on about the rich
Japanese culture. Was it really anything more than dressing up in
Kimonos in August and launching little boats in the river?
     What made something cultural? She supposed culture would be the
good aspects of one's society. For instance, the desire to conquer
Asia would not be a part of Japanese culture. Well, at least not
anymore.
     And that was just the problem. Who decided what was worthy of
cultural preservation? Was The Tale of Heike (gods, she hated that
book) really more culturally significant than Urusei Yatsura?
     All right, now that she'd abolished all preset standards, she
could decide on her own standards. For instance, anything with blue
catlike robots in it was bad. Everything that could be played with a
joystick was good. Except for centipede; that game really pissed her
off. Wait, that was played with one of those rolly-things... what
did her geek cousin it? Yeah, a trackball. Trackballs aren't good...
well, except when you use them to move those three little shields
around on the Macross.
     Yuki shook her head, as if to unclutter her thoughts. She was
getting off the point. Culture was all around her. Therefore if she
wanted to become cultured, she simply had to observe. She could read
the trashy spy and suspense novels... or she could watch television.
     Yes! That was it. She checked her watch; yes, a Jidaigeki program
usually started around this time of day. Her father liked those, but
she didn't. She really wasn't interested in Japanese historical
dramas...
     Ah, stories set in old Japan. That could be... cultural; to the
others. Okay, maybe she could give a shot. Perhaps she'd learn
something.
     She walked over and flicked on the TV then flopped back down on
her father's armchair. 
     She gave the show ten minutes. The acting was on par with a
sentai
show. She'd gotten accustomed to it when the samurai and his captive
(a woman, who Yuki was sure would fall in love with him by the end
of the hour) went to meet the Samurai's shogun. In one of the long
shots during their conversation, Yuki saw that the shogun was wearing
a digital watch.
     It was a whole five minutes before she managed to quiet her
spasms of laughter.

                             ->   ->   ->  

     Yuki found herself wandering the halls of Hoshi's All-Girl School
long after everyone had gone home. These halls, so often echoing with
the sounds of myriad footsteps and voices, were unearthly silent at
this hour. The only thing Yuki heard were her soft footsteps and the
blood rushing in her eyes. Naturally she felt on edge.
     She found an open window in the middle of the floor. She stood
there, chin resting on fist, for a immeasurably long time. She 
breathed in deeply; she loved the smell of freshly mown grass.
     As she stared out into the utter blue sky, she felt as if she
were in a dream. She'd experienced this before, maybe half-a-dozen
times before. It was like she existed in an eternal moment, outside
of time. She was able to look back at everything she had done,
everything she had been, and somehow it made sense to her. Everything
locked into place, and she had an odd, hazy confidence that her life 
was going in the right direction.
     Yuki was so deep in this haze, that she didn't notice the
music until after she'd been listening to it for a minute. She
probably
wouldn't have noticed the music if wasn't so obviously being played by
an amateur.
     Yuki didn't bother to follow the music, because she knew there
was only one place it could be coming from. When she reached the music
room, she was stunned to see Akane sitting at the piano. Perhaps, she
thought, this a dream after all.
     No, it couldn't be. Akane was wearing a school uniform that she
didn't recognize. In her dreams, Akane always still went to Hoshi's.
     "S...Sempai?" Yuki said uncertainly.
     Akane stopped and turned around on the bench. From her confused
glance, Yuki suspected it took Akane a minute to remember who she was.
     "Yuki? What are you doing here? Everyone else has gone home,"
Akane said.
     "I was taking a test. I was sick last week and had to make it
up,"
Yuki said. "Can I take it the headmistress relented? Are you back with
us?" Yuki asked.
     She didn't know why she bothered; somehow, deep down, she knew
Akane wasn't supposed to be here.
     "No, I, just..." Akane blushed.
     Yuki looked past her and saw a first-timers piano book on the
stand above the keyboard. It even had Hello Kitty in the page corners
holding up a sign with the page number.
     Akane slammed her palms down on the keyboard, the discordant
notes finally shook Yuki out of her haze. She went over and sat down
on the bench next to Akane. She tingled being so close to Akane;
especially since she hadn't seen her, outside of her dreams and a
couple of times on the street, for almost a month.
     "I... I don't know why I bothered," Akane said, embarrassed.
     It was the first time Yuki had ever seen her embarrassed. It
didn't
even occur to her that Akane COULD be embarrassed.
     "I guess I'm just not musical," Akane said.
     "Oh come on, we're all musical," Yuki said.
     "I just don't have the talent," Akane said.
     "Music doesn't come from the mind, Akane, it comes from the soul.
You're telling me that someone with a beautiful soul like yours can't
create beautiful music?" Yuki asked.
     "What makes you think I have a beautiful soul?" Akane asked.
     Yuki felt sweat pooling up in her armpits. This was it, this was
the moment. She'd tell Akane how she felt about her. Certainly Akane
couldn't refuse such a heartfelt confession-
     "How's Komatsu, by the way?" Akane asked.
     Yuki felt like she'd been stabbed through the heart. There was a
gleam in Akane's eyes that she did not at all like. Perhaps Yuki was
wrong about her having a beautiful soul.
     "Uh... Why do you ask?" Yuki said.
     "He's always babbling on about you two. He makes it sound like
you have one of the all-time great romances," Akane said with a smile.
     There was no malice in the smile, Yuki noted. Was Akane... Wait,
Akane thought that she was straight, that she was in love with
Komatsu.
So Akane meets with this girl that used to have a crush on her, after
she's "recovered". They meet in the music room on this beautiful
spring
afternoon, one false word and they end up on the floor, with their 
hands all over each other. Suddenly Akane is the other woman...
     Yuki felt warmness rush into her chest; Akane had been trying to
keep her honest--keep her from doing something she considered a
mistake. She did have a beautiful soul; the most beautiful Yuki had
ever seen.
     "I... I don't know how it's going to end up," Yuki said.
     "Remember, patience and understanding are the keystones of any
good relationship. And communication; patience, understanding and
communication. Oh! And affection, we can't forget..." Akane trailed
off, her face in a strange frown.
     After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Yuki pulled a kazoo
out of her bag. "As I was saying, the hardest part is to find the
right instrument."
     She played the Galaxy Express 999 theme on her kazoo. Akane's
expression changed, but remained equally puzzled.

                             ->   ->   ->

     At approximately six minutes before five, Manami came in to get
her porn. Akane ducked under the counter to retrieve the brown-paper
wrapped parcel.
     "That's a pretty eclectic collection," Akane said. "Conventional,
yaoi AND yuri. Is there something you want to tell me?"
     Manami scowled. "I'm trying to figure out something, and Kurumi
refused to help."
     Akane stared at her cousin for several moments in silence. A
quarter of her wanted to know what Manami was talking about; the
other three-quarters were convinced she would never sleep well again
if she did.
     "Look, if your dad or teacher's discover you have those, don't
tell them where you got. Not only will I lose this job, but my parents
and the school will know I was working," Akane said.
     "Don't worry, my lips are sealed," Manami said. She then blushed
a deep violet.
          

     As Akane walked to charm school, she felt the urge to whistle.
The crushing depression was gone. The worst part of it had been how
helpless she'd felt. Once she realized that she wasn't helpless, that
all that she needed to get anything, ANYTHING was to keep plugging
away until she succeeded.
     Akane realized, now, that nothing was beyond her reach.
     That's when she tripped down the train platform's stairs.


     After class broke up Akane went up to Shimizu-sensei. (she
stopped
calling her sama after Shimizu informed her that it made her sound
like a smart-ass.)
     "Sensei, I was wondering if I could have a word," Akane said.
     "You may have several, Akane-chan," sensei said.
     Now who was the smart-ass?
     "I had a question about etiquette. We haven't gotten around to
it yet, but I was wondering... How does a lady go about asking someone
out on a date?" Akane said.
     Sensei tutted. "You should know by now, Akane-chan, that a lady
does not ask, she waits to be asked."
     Akane let out a long sigh. "Swell."


     "Ah good afternoon Yuki," the vendor said. "What can I get you
today?"
     "Hmmm," Yuki said, looking over the selection. "Some cake, 
perhaps?"
     "Oooh," the vendor said, miming pain. "Broken heart?"
     "With perception like that, you should be a psychiatrist," Yuki 
said with a smile.
     "I got a nice white cake with lemon frosting. It's a bit summery
for this early in the season, but you're probably getting sick of
those earthy chocolate cakes," the vendor said.
     "I'll take a coupla slices of that," Yuki said.
     While the vendor was wrapping up the cake, Yuki looked out the
window. She saw Akane coming down the street.
     Yuki unbuttoned the first two buttons of her blouse. The vendor
gave her an odd look.
     "I'll be right back," Yuki said. The bell tinkled as she ran
out the door.
     Yuki started to walk nonchalantly down the sidewalk towards
Akane.
When she got to about half the distance, she noticed that Akane's hair
had a white silk ribbon tied in it. Yuki felt herself flush, it made
Akane look so sophisticated and cool...
     "Hey sempai," Yuki called out.
     Akane noticed her for the first time. Yuki was happy to see that
Akane recognized her right away this time.
     "Oh, Yuki, hi," Akane said, a little nervously. "Uh, what're
you doing in this part of town?"
     "I was visiting my grandma," Yuki said. That's what she'd been
doing when she saw Akane go into charm school a couple of weeks ago.
     "Oh," Akane said, still nervous.
     What could she possible be so nervous about, Yuki asked? Was this
nervousness around something you had a crush on? Yuki felt a spike of
elation, which quickly ebbed. Akane was probably worried about Yuki
seeing her going into her charm school. It might ruin her reputation;
of course, why did she care what the Hoshi girls thought about her
now?
     "Oh, hey, you might catch cold," Akane said. She reached forward
and buttoned up Yuki's blouse. "You'd better be careful about that,
there are some dirty old men around here."
     Yuki felt all gooey inside. The touching, the tenderness, how
she'd dream of that... But she also felt a little disappointed; it
wasn't the reaction she'd been looking for.


     "You know, one of these days I'm going to ask where you go every
afternoon," Kazuya said.
     Akane stuck her tongue out at him and threw her bookbag on the
kitchen table.
     "If you really want to know, why don't you just read my mind?"
Akane said.
     "One day I'm going to get past that mental block of yours,"
Kazuya
said and walked into the living room.
     Akane noticed that there was a note scrawled on the notepad next
to the telephone.

                    Madoka-chan called, 3:32.

     Akane scowled; he had the nerve to call her that. Madoka gave
him all that attention and treated him so nice, just because he was
a little boy. Let's see how much she liked him when he was a shiftless
teenager.
     Akane punched in Madoka's number, which she'd known by heart
long before she called it on a routine basis.
     After a couple of rings, the angelic voice of Madoka said
"Hello?"
     "Ah, Madoka, I just got your message. What's up?" Akane asked.
     "Oh, I was wondering if you were free Friday night?" Akane said.
     "I'm free after five, why do you ask?" Akane asked.
     "I was wondering if you wanted to go out to a movie," Ayukawa
said.
     Akane jittered so much that she almost dropped the phone. "Just
the two of us?" Akane asked.
     "Well we can invite the rest of the gang along, if you like, but
I like it when it's just the two of us sometimes," Madoka said.
     "Oh, sure, yeah, that's great...er, fine. What time, then?"
Akane said.
     "Why don't you come here around 6. The movie theatre I want to
visit is closer to my house than yours," Madoka said.
     "Swell," Akane said, and proceeded to feel all gooey inside.

                              ->   ->   ->

     Late Friday afternoon. The man in the crab-suit was reading.
Komatsu flipped through the pages on his clipboard and paced
nervously.
     "We should've started with something smaller, I just know it,"
Komatsu said. "What was I thinking, shooting the battle between the
ronin and the Giant Crab of Ondos first?!"
     Hatta flipped the page with his giant claw. Komatsu noted that
he had remarkable dexterity with it. "Calm down. We always do the big
stuff first, then we can relax and film all the easy scenes."
     "Yeah, but forty-seven samurai fighting a big crab?" Komatsu
said.
     "Yeah, but we're going to do it five at a time. It's just like
Star Wars; you have this giant intergalactic war-"
     "Intra-galactic," Komatsu noted.
     "What?" Hatta said, confused.
     "Intergalactic suggests that the war spanned more than one 
galaxy. There was only in one galaxy in the movies," Komatsu said.
     "Yeah, but they were outside the galaxy at the end of the second
movie," Hatta said.
     "That's still a far way from being in another galaxy. And they
could've been in one of the spiral arms. You know that we can see
most of our own galaxy in the sky," Komatsu said.
     "We're getting off the point. So there's this big... galactic
war, yeah? But we never see more than ten stormtroopers on screen at
any given time, right?" Hatta said.
     "Yeah, but Lucas never had them fighting a big crab," Komatsu
said.
     "Don't be so sure, he's still got six movies to go," Hatta said.
     "Seiji?" a perky voice said.
     Komatsu looked over, and a lot of her nervousness faded away.
There's something about a beautiful woman, especially one in a white
robe wearing a tiara, that made him feel at peace.
     "Wow Yuki, you look gorgeous!" Komatsu said.
     The flush in Yuki's cheeks stood out against the white of her
robe.
     "Hmmph," Hatta said. "A robe and a tiara doesn't a princess make.
She's still a peasant."
     Yuki just smiled. "Interesting book, Hatta?"
     Hatta grunted.
     "How much of it have you got colored in?" Yuki asked, ratcheting
the smile up a notch.
     Hatta mumbled something. Komatsu was pretty sure he heard the
word "whore".

                              ->   ->   ->

     Akane danced around her room, not caring how foolish she must
look. She'd sing, if she knew of some song that was as blissful as
she felt.
     As she danced around, she pulled off her clothes and threw them
all around. It was a vivacious, disorganized strip-tease. She
considered
humping the bedpost to complete the effect.
     She danced over to her closet and looked at the array of clothes
hanging there. Everything seemed just so...ordinary. Nothing befitted
such an important occasion in her life. The only thing that seemed
appropriate was her charm school kimono, and that would look odd.
     Then she noticed the outfit she'd worn on the first day of
school,
the one Madoka had admired. The one that her parents didn't know
about,
and wouldn't let her leave the house in.
     She'd have to sneak out the back way.

                              ->   ->   ->

     "All right, places everyone. Let's make this one count," Komatsu
said. One of the Hoshi girls held the clapper up in front of the
camera and clapped it.
     "Action!"
     Komatsu slowly panned the camera across the field. The dark
clouds on the horizon made the shot perfect. Even if there was a
screw-up, he was going to cut this pan in somehow.
     Komatsu made a chopping motion with his right-hand, not taking
his eye out of the view finder. The Hoshi girls in Samurai armor
started shouting and ran across the field, against the pan of the
camera.
     "All right, cut, that was perfect!" Komatsu said. "Change
helmets, and get ready to run in the other direction."
     "Where did you guys get all this samurai stuff anyway?" the girl
with the clapper asked. Komatsu remembered Yuki calling her Kaori.
     "Hatta's family were samurai before the Meiji restoration," 
Komatsu said.
     "And his parents are okay with this?" Kaori asked.
     "This will be our little secret," Komatsu said. "Hatta, get
ready to menace the princess,"
     "With pleasure," Hatta said, saluting with his right claw.
     Hatta and Yuki took their position, as did the Hoshi girls, with
their helmets swapped.
     "All right guys, this is the money shot, let's make this one
count," Komatsu said. He needed a new catchphrase. "Er, let's make
history!"
     Kaori held the clapper in front of the camera. Komatsu noticed
that she'd written "money shot" instead of the correct scene number.
     "Action!"
     Hatta clawed at Yuki, who let out a scream. Slow pan over to
reveal the five ronin running at her, screaming ad-libbed battle
slogans. They proceeded to beat on the crab with their plastic swords.
Komatsu again noticed how cool the dark clouds in the sky made the
scene look.
     "There's something oddly familiar about this," Kaori whispered to
Komatsu.

                              ->   ->   ->

     The movie had been boring. Akane had wanted to enjoy every
moment of this "date", but she just couldn't take this much syrupy
melodrama. Twenty minutes in, she felt herself drifting off. By
the half-hour mark, she was completely asleep.
     When she woke up later, the movie was still going on. The back
of her blouse was drenched in sweat, but she felt remarkable
refreshed.
She worried what Madoka wouldn't be pleased with her falling asleep...
     She turned to see that Madoka was fast asleep in the seat next
to her. Her face was so peaceful when she was sleeping. It looked
exactly as she'd always imagined it.
     Akane felt a surge of bliss. She'd gotten what she wanted, if
only for this moment. She and Madoka had slept next to each other.
In a short while, Madoka would awake, and that peaceful expression
would disappear. But just for this moment, Akane would stand guard
while her love slept.

                              ->   ->   ->

     Around eleven, after the rest of the family had gone to bed,
Manami sat in the living room, nervous. She'd been working on a
jigsaw puzzle all night, but hadn't manage to get more a dozen pieces
together.
     This was the time she'd been waiting for. This is the time that
she'd finally do it. Or do herself, rather. She couldn't imagine the
panic attack she'd have when this involved another person.
     She turned out the light and walked up the stairs to her room.
The window was open and the shades were open. She wondered if she
should close the window: she didn't know how loud the noises she
might make could be. But the breeze was soothing, especially to 
someone as flushed and sweaty as she was.
     She drew the shades and locked the door. She turned down her
bed and pulled off her clothes. She considered putting her pajamas
on; and decided that if she was too shy to sleep in the nude then
maybe she shouldn't be doing this.
     She slid under the covers, took off her glasses and turned off
the light. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. She could
hear her heart beating, it drowned out the blood rushing in her ears.
     Maybe she could just go to sleep, and forget all about this.
Part of her wanted to do that; but another part wanted to follow
through. She didn't want to fear this anymore, this was part of her;
it was part of what made her human. This was something, unlike the
Power, that she shared with everyone else on Earth. It was something
that made her feel like she belonged.
     She thought about what she had to do... The manga hadn't been
much help at all. They gave a vague description of what to do, but
left out all the details.
     Manami let out a sigh. The first cavewoman who discovered this
didn't need a manual to tell her what to do. You knew you were doing
it "right" if it felt good.
     Manami reached down and touched herself. It took a while before
she felt something other than self-consciousness.
     She'd hated Kurumi for not being more forthcoming; but she'd
been right. The best part was figuring these things out for herself.
     That night, Manami felt things she'd never felt before. She'd 
felt small stirrings before, but this was opening the floodgates.
It felt so good, but in a strange sticky way. She felt herself losing
control, but she liked it. It was like being on a roller-coaster.
     When it was over, she lost control of her muscles and assumed
a position she'd often seen in the manga, her legs bent, back arched,
a moan escaping her mouth.
     It was amazing how calm and relaxed she felt. She couldn't
remember feeling like this since... She couldn't remember ever feeling
this peaceful or right, even as she drifted off to sleep each night.
     She slid into slumber, more content than she had ever felt
before.

     As the night wore on, the cover of dark clouds became thicker.
But Manami slept peacefully in her bed, oblivious to what was
happening
high above her.
     At three minutes after four on that spring morning a flash of
lightning jumped across the sky, and the apartment shook with a rumble
of thunder.

                              End Part 2

----------
Subject: [KOR][Fanfic] Spring Wonder, Pt. 3
From: Chris Schumacher <kensu__@hotmail.com>
Date: Wed, 30 May 2007 13:42:16 -0400

Author's note: if you've never read the manga, it would be a very
good time to read a synopsis of the last volume.

A cold wind blew through the empty streets of Tokyo that night, even
though winter had died more than a month ago. The sudden, and equally
unwelcome, chill had been heralded by a thunderstorm that-despite its
fierceness-had  lasted only twenty-seven minutes and eighteen seconds.
 In a bedroom of an apartment in a certain part of Tokyo,
something queer was afoot.

 Manami walked into Kyosuke's bedroom to find Ayukawa waiting for
her. She sat on the end of his bed wearing nothing but one of his
school shirts. Manami could see a black t-back beneath the shirt
tails.
 What a wonderful experience of youth this was, Manami thought.
The love of her life stopping by for a quick, passionate, roll in the
hay.
 "Hey honey," Ayukawa said. "I've got what you've been craving."
 Part of Manami realized this sounded nothing like Ayukawa, but
most of her didn't seem to give a damn.
 They necked passionately, Manami kissing Ayukawa's neck and
undoing the buttons on her shirt. Manami got a whiff of that vinegary
smell of Ayukawa's that Manami loved so much.
 Shirt: off. Bra: being unfastened as we speak. Panties: don't
get ahead of yourself, Kyosuke.
 Then again, why not? Before she knew it, Manami was making love
to Ayukawa. It was something she'd wanted to do since they first met,
and it was every bit as good as she imagined it would be...

 Manami jerked awake from the cold. Her nose was running, and the
room was filled with the smell of wet pavement. She wiped her nose on
the back of her hand as she jumped out of bed. She was shocked to
discover that she was naked; but quickly remembered how she got that
way. She ran over to the window and slammed it shut. She switched on
the light and got her winter robe from the closet. She'd almost put
it into storage with the rest of her winter clothes; she was now glad
she hadn't.
 She sat down on her bed and looked at the myopia-blurred walls
of her room. What in god's name had THAT been?
 Was she gay? She'd never had thoughts like that before; EVER.
She'd been reading that Yuri manga earlier, and even though she found
it kind of sweet it hadn't made her want to go out and give it a try.
 But, wait a second, in the dream... she had a penis.
 Her confusion was magnified when she realized that the dream was
still going on inside her head.
 &"Oh, Kyosuke, you're such a man to make me feel like such a
woman!"&
 Manami would've recognized that maudlin dialogue anywhere: it's
how her brother talked. She tried to stop the fantasy, but she
couldn't. It wasn't even like when she stopped thinking about
something and her mind kept creeping back to it.
 It was then that she first noticed a very alien "taste" to the
thoughts. Then, with a dreadful certainty, she realized: they weren't
her thoughts at all.

                                           ->   ->   ->

 Kazuya was having a wonderful dream: he was Black Flash, the new
leader of Flashman who came down to Earth to show his brethren what
was what. He and the rest of Flashman were fighting Za Snotlocker
when he was violently shaken awake.
 "Kazuya!" a girl's voice said, with a certain hint of urgency.
 Kazuya opened his eyes and looked around. His cousin, Manami,
was there, in her pajamas.
 "Whazgoing on?" Kazuya said, rubbing the crud out of his eyes.
Was she sleeping over or something?
 "I teleported over, I need to talk to you about something,"
Manami said.
 Although Kazuya was annoyed, he was curious. It wasn't like
Manami to act like this.
 "Yes, I know I'm acting strange, but this is important," Manami
said.
 Kazuya looked up sharply. This couldn't be...
               &can you read my thoughts?&
 "Yes, I can," Manami said.
 Kazuya's eyes bugged out. "That's... That's impossible! You
never could before!"
 "That's why I needed to talk to you!" Manami said.
 Kazuya felt a burst of emotion from her, scattered thoughts. She
was terrified. He backed away from her, rubbing his forehead.
 "Shut up! Just shut up!" Kazuya said.
 "I'm not saying anything," Manami said. Feelings of hurt.
 &you know what I mean!&
 "Oh," Manami said. She gulped and closed her eyes. After a few
moments, the rush of thoughts slowed to a trickle.
 How could this happen, he wondered. He concentrated on the
thoughts in his cousin's mind, and began to push slowly. He had to
know what had caused this...
 There was a flash of images; it was pure thought: impossible to
put into words. It gave him a feeling of warm and sticky joy that he
wasn't at all comfortable with.
 He was so lost in his cousin's thoughts that he didn't notice
her shoving him off the bed. He only came out of it when he hit the
floor.
 "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" she shouted, looking down at him. Her eyes
burned with rage behind her glasses. The anger simmered off her like
waves of heat.
 Kazuya quickly scanned the minds of his parents and Akane: Akane
was slightly aroused, but turned over and fell back to sleep. His
parents hadn't heard anything.
 "You idiot!" Kazuya said. "I'm trying to help you!"
 "I'm sorry..." Manami trailed off. Feelings of hurt, of anger,
of violation. She reached down and helped him up.
 &you know, I could always read your mind, Manami. This is no
different.&
 \It's different because I never knew you were doing it before.\
 Picture of stick man weeping. &boo-hoo&

                                               ->   ->   ->

 The sky was a dome of interlocking grey clouds. The cloud cover
was so thick that it was impossible to tell where the sun was.
 Manami shivered from the cold, in spite of the thick winter coat
she was wearing. She hadn't remembered it being this cold even in the
darkest depth of winter.
 "Zip up your coat," Manami said.
 &what're you, my mother?&
 "You're cold, I can feel it, and it's making me even colder!"
Manami said.
 &pfffft, fine&
 Manami wondered why he bothered to make the lip-flapping sound
in his mind. She wondered how people would communicate if they didn't
have mouths, and only telepathy.
 &I never thought of that before...&
 /When did you first realize you could read people's minds?/
 &It was more that I discovered that other people couldn't. You
wouldn't believe how much I freaked out the kids in preschool.&
 "It must've been easier, growing up on a farm like you did,"
Manami said.
 &WITH YOUR MIND! it's faster&
 Manami noticed a hum in her mind. She turned to her cousin.
 /Are you-/
 "Someone's coming," he said out loud.
 &Brace yourself. Normal people don't keep their minds tidy like
I do.&
 A salaryman turned a corner a few blocks ahead of them. The hum
in Manami's head slowly resolved itself into chatter.
 ^How much farther? Damn it, where were my gloves? They were in
my coat pocket, did someone take them... Hey, what's this? Cute kid,
and I'd like to take a shot at his sister. I bet she's a screamer.
Dammit, why don't they ever repair these sidewalks, they're always so
unlevel....^
 His thoughts dissipated with distance. Manami was blushing.
Kazuya looked at her.
 &What did he-& He got a flash of images. &Ew, gross! He's my
father's age!&
 /I never knew anyone thought that way about me before./
 &I hear thoughts like that all the time when I'm out with Akane.
She'd be surprised how many guys want to do stuff to her.&
 "We're almost to the donut shop. This is going to be quite a
shock, cuz," Kazuya said.
 She got the image of someone falling into a pool. They struggled
and drowned. The image played back, but this time the man didn't
struggle. He sank right to the bottom of the pool, and then floated
back up. He kicked his legs a little and it kept him afloat.
 &It's like that. If you try to force their thoughts out of your
head, you'll drown. You need to let yourself go; allow the thoughts
to pass through your mind and out the other side. If you don't
believe you'll drown, you'll float on the thoughts of others.&
 /I understand./
 &It's not that easy, but you'll see.&
 They walked into the donut shop. As it was early, there were
only three people there. To Manami it was like walking into a sawmill.
 &Yeah, fat guy, you really need six more donuts.& #..from the
file, into the char*. Dammit, if only we could read more than a
character at a time. Why won't that jackass let us use C++ instead?#
 The girl behind the counter really had to go to the bathroom,
but had to wait half-an-hour for her next break. Manami could feel
the pain seep into her.
 &Hold on Manami& The words were much stronger than any of the
others. Kazuya must have a much stronger mind, Manami thought.
 &Don't fight; ignore.&
 He sent that as text, complete with punctuation.
 &When your mind is full of their thoughts, you feel no need to
think your own. Count backwards from 50.&
 /Fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight/ &Graphically! It centers you
more.&
 /50,49,48,47... You know, for a kid, Kazuya knew quite a lot,
46/ &You know a lot about walking, because you do it all the time,
right? Of course I'm an expert. So will you be, one day.&
 /If this doesn't wear off./
 Kazuya turned to look at his cousin, she felt disappointment
from him.
 &You would really give this up?&
 /I don't want to know other people's thoughts./
 &But it makes you better prepared. It makes people easier to
deal with. It makes you...&
 /Powerful/ Manami gave her cousin a sour look. The Imperial
Theme from Star Wars played in both their heads.
 &It's not like that. It's not like we're cheating; we can't
think as deeply as other people because of the clutter.& Image of the
ground evening out.
 /It's working... I can still hear their thoughts, but I can talk
to you at the same time./ &If you're really tired, it'll be hard to
shut them out. And you'll start having other people's dream if
they're in close contact&
 /You mean I'll never dream my own dreams again?/
 &Probably not. You can't be in control when you're asleep.&
 An image of a piece of Manami's torso falling to the ground.
Kazuya gave her a strange look.
 &You're really strange.&
 /You've been reading my thoughts for ten years now, and you're
only realizing that now?/
 Manami felt a block in his mind, and some embarrassment.
 "The truth is..." Kazuya said.
 /You never found me interesting enough to pay attention to my
thoughts before./
 &Well, they're like my mother's thoughts. Kyosuke's used to be
really cool because he had these space battles going on in his head.
But now all he thinks about is girls. He thinks like he talks too, by
the way.&
 /Yeah, I noticed that./

                                       ->   ->   ->

 Manami had never known dread before; but she did today as she
walked through their apartment's front door. She walked into the
kitchen and switched on the lights. She heard the distant buzzing of
Kyosuke's electric shaver.
 She put the pink box of donuts down in the center of the table
and called out: "Breakfast!"
 Manami took a seat and braced herself.
 First down was Kurumi, still in pajamas. Her burbled thoughts
told Manami she was fresh from bed; or perhaps she always thought
like that. It matched the way she spoke.
 "All right, donuts!" Kurumi said as she sat down. /It's a nice
change from that traditional stuff she makes us eat/
 Manami glared at her sister, but quickly took on a calm
expression. She couldn't react to people's thoughts, or her secret
would soon be out.
 Kurumi proceeded to eat three donuts in less than a minute. The
only thoughts in her head was the theme song of a Saturday morning
cartoon she looped constantly.
 Kyosuke came down next, a band-aid stuck on his face.
 /I'm going to look like such an idiot/ he thought. /It takes a
real brain-trust to nick himself with an electric razor./
 He sat down at the table and took a couple of the chocolate
glazed donuts. Feelings of glee and appreciation washed over Manami.
She couldn't help smiling.
 As Kyosuke ate, his thoughts turned back to the dream he'd had
the night before; the one that Manami had inadvertently witnessed. He
kept replaying the more explicit parts of the dream, causing Manami
to blush. She had to excuse herself, claiming she had to get some
juice from the refrigerator.
 Manami couldn't believe how graphic and sensual her brother's
thoughts were. Not only did he replay the image, but he imagined what
sex must feel like, and ruminated on how good it must feel. But it
wasn't just that... Mixed in with the pornographic images and
thoughts were ones that were downright wholesome. The warm feeling he
got when she smiled; an elated feeling when he saw her walking across
the field behind the school, the sky utter blue, her sleek black hair
blowing in the wind. The warm feeling he got seeing her in a sweater
with a red scarf draped over her shoulders. Then, an image of Ayukawa
eating a Vienna sausage. Okay, that last enough was closer to the
other category.
 Manami stared into the refrigerator, lost in thought. The light
inside dimmed as the compressor hummed to life. These thoughts
Kyosuke had... It couldn't simply be lust, not if he thought about
Ayukawa that way. She'd never felt this type of thought before, but
was this love? Was her brother in love with Ayukawa?
 Manami had always secretly hoped that her brother would end up
with Ayukawa; but it seemed that he and Hikaru were the sure thing.
Did Hikaru know how her brother felt?
 She got back to the table, and Kyosuke's mind had wandered. He
was now remembering when he, Ayukawa and Hikaru had sailed their
little boats during the O-Bon last year. His memories were
accompanied by painfully melodramatic narration.
 Her father came out of the darkroom, reeking of developer and
fixer. He sat at the table and looked at the donuts.
 "Hey donuts! Nice to have a change of pace," he said as he took
one. /Was it too much trouble to make breakfast? It's not like I ask
much of that girl./
 Manami felt herself tearing up. She excused herself and slowly
walked up the stairs. They couldn't see her eyes, so their was no
point in running to give the game away.
 She sat in the bathtub in the darkened bathroom and cried until
it was time to leave for school.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 When one is out of one's depth, it is irresponsible not to ask
for help. As Yuki wasn't one of the more feminine people she knew,
she felt her love-letter writing skills were sorely lacking. So she
sought out the help of her friend Kaori, who was the most femme
person she knew.
 They were sitting at a picnic table in the park across from
school; it would be more than an hour before the first bell rang. If
Yuki had known it would've been this cold, she wouldn't have arranged
this meeting the night before. Their breath formed into mist as they
spoke. The clouds overhead were deep gray, making the landscape look
wetter than it really was.
 "Look, right here," Kaori said, pointing to something on Yuki's
rough draft. "Generally speaking, a phrase like 'shit happens'
doesn't belong in a love letter."
 "Noted," Yuki said with a nod.
 Kaori let out a sigh. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean,
you've got Komatsu."
 "I only started going out with him to make Akane jealous. She
was, is, and always shall be my only love," Yuki said.
 Kaori frowned at her. "Maybe you shouldn't string him along,
Yuki. I mean, I know how he appears at first... but he's actually a
really nice guy. He doesn't deserve being toyed with like that."
 "I know, I know..." Yuki said. "This has gotten out of control.
I thought that Akane would get jealous; I guess I thought somewhere,
deep down, she felt the same. But she doesn't."
 "Then why are you writing the letter?" Kaori asked.
 "She doesn't feel that way YET. How could she? She barely knows
me. That's why I need to let her know how I feel, through this. Then
maybe she'll think that I'm worth a shot. If she knew me, I'm sure
she'd grow to love me."
 "I don't know, Yuki... Do you think you could love someone who
would use Komatsu the way you did?" Kaori said.
 "We all have our moments of weakness," Yuki said. "She can
forgive me that... Even if he never can."
 "When do you plan to tell him?" Kaori said.
 "Not right away; the relationship has to experience some
turbulence first. If I play this right, I can make him dump me. Then
I won't have to feel at all guilty," Yuki said. She looked up as she
heard a sharp intake of breath. Kaori was staring at her, bemused.
"What?"
 Kaori just shook her head.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 "This is such a tragedy," Kyosuke said. "It's really spring now,
the weather's got no business being so cold!"
 Manami simply nodded, seemingly lost in thought.
 Kurumi wasn't with them, as she was just getting into the shower
as they left. Doubtless she was going to be late for school; though
it wouldn't be the first time.
 "Oniichan," Manami began.
 Kyosuke looked at his sister: it was unusual to hear her so
serious. Kyosuke wondered if she was going to reveal some intimate
detail of her life. He smiled inwardly: they had gotten so close. It
must be difficult for her to speak of such things, so he'd have to be
kind and considerate.
 "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about. I
just wasn't sure how to broach the subject," Manami said. "If you're
uncomfortable talking about it, I understand,"
 Ah, that was it, Kyosuke said. She was in love with someone. He
imagined how hard this must be for her; to discuss the innermost
workings of her heart. However, he felt gratified that she trusted
him this much.
 "No, please, I think I have an idea what you want to tell me,"
Kyosuke said.
 "Well, it's about you and Ayukawa," Manami said.
 Kyosuke stopped so fast that his sneakers squeaked. "WHAT?!"
 "I've known for a while how you've felt about her," Manami said.
 "How? I mean, what?!" Kyosuke felt his heart racing. "I mean,
how?"
 "Umm... That's not important. But, I am right: aren't I? You're in
love with her?"
 Kyosuke felt nervous; then he realized he had no need to be. He
let himself remember Ayukawa, all the things about her that made her
so special; all the things that made him...
 "Yes. Yes it's true, I love her," Kyosuke said. It was a relief
to say those words out loud; to tell someone, anyone, what he'd kept
bottled up all these years.
 "But what about Hikaru?" Manami asked. There was no challenge in
her voice: only concern, and sadness.
 "That's really not something I want to think about," Kyosuke
said.
 "But you have to!" Manami said. "You can't just continue to lead
her on, you-" Manami's face scrunched up, and she backed away from
her brother.
 Kyosuke's flash of turmoil and grief dissipated and he grabbed
his sister to steady her.
 "Manami, are you all right?" Kyosuke asked.
 "I didn't know you felt that strongly," Manami mumbled, her eyes
still tightly closed. She then opened her eyes, and looked
embarrassed. "I'm fine, oniichan. Just a little headache; I didn't
get much sleep last night."

                                               ->   ->   ->

 The sudden onset of cold forced everyone who usually ate their
lunch in the school's courtyard back into their crowded, stuffy
classrooms. Hence, Kasuga was forced to have lunch with Komatsu and
Hatta; something he hadn't been forced to do since before the spring
equinox.
 "So, if you had to choose, which would you rather be: a Time
Lord or a Jedi?" Hatta said.
 "Pffft, that's a stupid question. A Time Lord. Jedi's are just
cops with shiny light swords," Komatsu said.
 "Yeah, but the Jedi are in touch with the Force; they can see
things before they happen," Hatta said.
 "What, and a Time Lord can't? Hello, Hello anybody home? Think,
Hatta, THINK: a Time Lord can cross time as easily as we walk across
a room. A Jedi's got nothing on that," Komatsu said.
 "Okay, if they're so powerful and shit, then how come they need
those blue boxes to move around in?" Hatta said.
 Komatsu let out a long, impatient sigh. "Look, how many times do
I have to say this: only the Doctor's TARDIS looks like that. The
camouflage system got stuck; the other ones blend into the
environment."
 "Well if the Time Lords are so great, then how come the Doctor
can't fix his stupid TARDIS so it doesn't have that shape anymore?"
Hatta said.
 "Well, you're a human being, and I don't think you could've come
up with the calculus," Kasuga said.
 "Oooh, Kasuga, that's harsh..." Komatsu said. "That's like
something Ayukawa would say," He looked around the room. "Speaking of
which, where is the little delinquent?"
 Kasuga look concerned. "I don't know; Hikaru's absent too..."
 "Maybe they're off doing something together..." Hatta said. Then
he got a perverted look on his face. "Like each other. Heh-heh-heh...
They would make such a cute couple, don't you think?"
 "Couldn't be," Akane said from across the aisle. "Ayukawa's
straight."
 "Are you certain of that?" Komatsu said.
 "Yes," Akane said, with sadness in her voice. "We can smell our
own."


 It's probably true, Akane noted to herself. The assumption that
it was possible to change someone's sexuality was not only ridiculous,
but made her a hypocrite.
 But... Madoka and Hikaru had apparently always been very close:
perhaps its possible that there was something more than friendship
there. Of course, that presented an entire host of different problems.
But perhaps Madoka was the water-carrier in that relationship, and
Hikaru was as straight as a laser beam...
 Akane shook her head; she was hoping for something that was so
improbable: there was a better chance of the Japanese economy
collapsing.
 Akane finished off her sandwich and wiped the crumbs from her
hands. She reached into the bag for her desert, and discovered that
her mother had packed a pear for her. Akane felt a pang of anger, but
she did love the look and feel of pears.
 Pears reminded her of the waist/hip curve of a woman's body-
easily the most sensuous part. She remembered the first time she'd
seen Madoka in a bikini; her curves were so sublime. Akane moved the
pear towards her mouth, and ran her tongue along the unbroken skin.
 She couldn't give up, she realized. All of her doubts were
obliterated in that moment. If there was any chance at all, she had
to take it. Some things were worth fighting for.


 Hatta's nose was starting to bleed. He, Komatsu, and Kasuga were
intrigued by the attention Akane was giving to the pear. After a
moment, she bit into it; they all winced in pain.
 "Well," Komatsu said. "...well," was all he could come up with.
 "I've... uh, gotta go to the bathroom," Komatsu said.
 "Yeah, I've got to go to the roof, and, uh... check for UFOs,"
Hatta said.
 "I've going to the gym supply room to make sure nothing's been
stolen," Kasuga said.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 Manami's head was throbbing by 11:50. It was easily the worst
headache she'd ever had: complete with the visual aura associated
with migraines. Unless that was another new power she had. It hurt
her head even more to think about that.
 The thoughts had gotten louder during lunch, contrary to
expectation. They weren't passive, bored thoughts like during class.
They were active and involved; Manami kept losing the thread of the
conversation, and once found herself answering one of her classmate's
thoughts: gaining her the strangest look she'd gotten in her entire
life.
 She decided to go the library, the place she remembered for
being quiet and serene. It would be the perfect place to lay low for
a couple of periods. Then she'd brave the last three periods and go
home.
 The halls were empty, it being the middle of a period, so
Manami's mind was already beginning to relax. The power of thoughts
diminished with distance; and, oddly enough, the intensity of a
thought didn't seem to lengthen its range. That caused quite a shock
when she came in the orbit of someone who was experiencing a crisis.
 Manami arrived before the giant oak doors leading into the
library; she stood there for a moment, allowing a smile to come to
her lips. This was going to feel so good; like crawling into a warm
bath after a long day. She gripped the handle and pulled open the
door.
 Her minded was almost deafened by the onslaught. So many
different thoughts, from so many different minds, racing at a speed
she hadn't experienced in another person.
 @Co-sine of the arc-sine is theta itself... No, wait, that isn't
right...@   !The power of the individual is paramount, as only the
individual can be decisive! #The most merciful thing in the world is
the inability of the human mind to correlate its contents.#
 Manami grabbed her head, and rushed out of the library. It was
astounding, she thought when she was able; her teachers would be
quite angry if they knew how little thinking their students did in
class.
 Manami leaned her back against the wall and allowed herself to
slide to a sitting position. She pushed her glasses up to her
forehead and rubbed her eyes. She didn't hear the door opening or the
footsteps, but knew one of her classmates was passing by the presence
of his thoughts.
 #Hey, Kasuga Manami... Zowie! I'd like to find the area between
those curves!#
 This was followed by a flattering, and very inaccurate,
rendering of Manami in the nude. She felt herself blush; she looked
up, but the boy wasn't even looking at her. He was walking down the
hallway, humming something she didn't recognize in his mind.
 She tried to remember his name; she thought it was Katsuhiro.
She'd never noticed him before-she certainly had no idea that he, or
anyone, thought about her in that way. There had been the dirty old
man in his thirties she'd met on the street earlier, but that hadn't
been someone she knew.
 The irony was sickening: Manami had gotten into this situation
because Kurumi had convinced her that all the guys had seen her as
some sort of mommy figure. Manami now knew that guys needed very
little prompting to think of girls in erotic ways.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 Charm school was winding down for the day. Akane and Akiko sat
at their desk, working earnestly on their flower arrangements.
Periodically Akiko glanced at the clock.
 "It doesn't look right," Akiko said, trying to move her lips as
little as possible.
 "It's free expression; we'll be graded on form, not contents,"
Akane said without looking up or moving her lips at all. She simply
parted them to let the sound flow out.
 Three minutes later Shimizu-sensei walked among the rows of
desks and appraised each arrangement. By the time she got to their
desk, she looked weary from disappointment. She gave Akiko's a
cursory nod, but took some time to look at Akane's.
 "That's an interesting use of materials, Akane. Perhaps you'd
like to tell us what you were thinking," Shimizu-san said, challenge
in her voice.
 Akane smiled good-naturedly. "Well it's about the splendour of
spring. You see, that's why we have the long grass around the edges.
Not especially elegant, but its wonderful verdant hues are refreshing,
as is the smell. Dandelions aren't even flowers, but again they're
associated with summer, and these young dandelions let us know that
even though summer is not yet here, it will be soon. The cat-tails
remind of those fields in Hokkaido where I grew up."
 "Akane... Are you aware of the fact that there are no actual
flowers in your flower arrangement?" Shimizu-sensei asked.
 "Flowers are over-perfumed, bitter and remind me of enclosed
spaces. There are some things they aren't able to convey," Akane said.
 The two locked gazes for a long moment.
 After a moment, Shimizu-sensei smiled. "Exceptional job, Akane."
 There was a collective sigh of relief from the rest of the room.
Shimizu-sensei walked back to the front of the room and sat down.
 "Class dismissed," she said.


 "Wow. That really took guts, Akane," Akiko said.
 Akane and five of the girls from her class were filing out of
the building onto the sidewalk. Each of them had a bad case of the
shivers as the biting wind hit them.
 "She respects strength," Akane said.
 "That certainly doesn't sound like the Shimizu-sensei I know,"
one of them, Haruki, replied.
 Akane clucked her tongue several times in disappointment. "You
haven't been paying attention in class, Haruki. A lady should be
strong, but not insolent. Insolence presents a challenge, but hidden
strength gets past defenses and awakens reason."
 "Wow!" another of the girls, Eri, exclaimed, her eyes shining.
 "You're really good at this," another one, Ryoko, said. "You'd
put the empress to shame."
 "You must've grown up in an upper-class household," Eri said.
 Akane sighed. "Weren't you listening in class? I spent most of
my life on a farm in Hokkaido. You just need to pay attention to the
material; it's amazing what you can do when you try."

 By the time they reached Shinjuku station, Akane and Akiko were
the only ones left. Akiko  and Akane stared through the window at the
landscape as it blurred by.
 Akane felt strangely numb inside. She liked insolence; some of
her best friends were insolent. Hikaru, and Madoka in her better
moments. Wasn't what was wrong with society these days is that people
weren't insolent enough?
 "How do you do it Akane?" Akiko said.
 Akane shook off her ponderings and looked to her friend. Had she
missed something? Had she been so deep in her thoughts that she
missed something else Akiko said? Probably not, there were only five
people on the train, and no one else was talking.
 "I'm sorry, what?" Akane said.
 "How did you manage to become so popular?" Akiko said.
 It was a strange question; one which Akane hadn't ever conceived
of before. Was she popular? Well, not in school... Wait, she had been
popular at Hoshi's; very popular in fact. And she'd become popular in
charm school as well. She'd never thought to ask why.
 "I don't know," Akane said. "I shouldn't be, should I?"
 "Why not? You're the best student in the class," Akiko said.
"The other day, after class, Shimizu-sensei said you were the best
student she ever had; and she taught the empress."
 Akane felt herself blushing, she also felt her skin crawl. This
is how spies must feel, she realized. How do they keep on living the
lie like that?
 But that thought passed out of her mind as she thought back to
her popularity. She was very popular among girls, she realized. She
suddenly got a devious smile as the realization dawned: she was a
babe-magnet.
 That little ego-boost carried her through the rest of the day
without any guilty feelings whatsoever.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 Manami kicked off her shoes and crawled under the sheets. The
bed was still unmade, she hadn't had the chance to make it after she
departed abruptly that morning. Manami took off her glasses and
snuggled the comforter. She didn't believe she'd ever felt more
relieved to be back in bed.
 It was just a little past four, but Manami was profoundly tired.
She realized that she'd been up since three that morning, and she'd
only gotten three hours of sleep the night before. She felt a surge
of hope in her heart: so it wasn't just the telepathy that had made
her feel so overwhelmed today. Tomorrow might be better, she thought.
That is, if the power didn't fade, or she didn't find a way to get
rid of it.
 As her muscles untensed, she allowed the steel-grip she kept on
her thoughts-or more to the  point other people's thoughts-to relax.
It was almost quiet here, the background buzz was nowhere near as
strong. The population density in a residential neighborhood was
smaller than that of a school. Perhaps she could stay home from
school tomorrow?
 She listened to the buzz for awhile as she drifted off. Finally
her curiosity got the better of her. The buzz was like background
noise, it only sounded like a buzz because she wasn't attempting to
listen to any part of it. She concentrated on a thought pattern she
recognized very well, and strained to listen. It was shocking how
clearly she heard the thoughts. This wasn't like squinting or
straining to hear: the strength of thoughts diminished with distance,
but their content did not.
 Kazuya was in his living room, taking a Famicom Disk System out
of its box. Manami remembered that his birthday was the following
week. She had to remember to get him something.
 &A cake would be nice. You know mom's cooking.& he sent.
 Manami's muscles tensed. Across the street in his apartment,
Kazuya smiled; Manami could feel the muscles in his face contorting
into the proper shape.
 &That's pretty impressive long-distance telepathy, Manami. Why
don't you try poking around some more. I have some...& He looked down
at a plastic sleeve containing a small yellow disk and read the label.
&...Hyrulian Adventuring to do.&
 \All right.\ Manami sent.
 She listened to a few more thoughts, looking for Akane's, but
couldn't find any.
 &She's not here; she usually doesn't come back until six. I have
no idea where she goes. You can't read her thoughts anyway.&
 \What? Why not?\
 &She's partially telepathic, so she knows when someone's probing
her mind. You might be able to overpower the block, or she might let
you in. But she's never done that for me.&
 Manami gave the telepathic equivalent of a grunt of
acknowledgement, and continued to browse through the buzz that
surrounded her mind.
 #The evil that men do lives after them, the good if oft interred
with their bones, so let it be with Caesar#, first in English, then
quickly translated into Japanese. Manami wished she had that depth of
skill.
 $This is how we brush our teeth, brush our teeth, brush our
teeth, so early in the morning$ the thought echoed in her mind. She
suddenly realized that it was one thought, being thought by many
different minds. She'd never felt something like this before, and it
was scary in its starkness. She realized that the thought must be
coming from the preschool a block over.
 She listened to a few more verses of the song, the slow, strong
melody lulled her to sleep.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 She awoke just before seven, the sun had just set and the clouds
about the horizon were blood red.
 She sat up and rubbed the gunk from her eyes. She'd has the
strangest dreams of her entire life. Then she realized: they hadn't
been her dreams.
 Still, she felt as she'd been reborn. As she walked down into
the family room, she was able to silence the thoughts of her family
with minimal effort. She'd never thought herself a quick-study, but
she had managed this admirably. Of course, she'd had plenty of
practice.
 After they'd eaten (Manami made yakitori that night) Manami
cloistered herself in her room, claiming she had some studying to do.
She took out a map of the Kanto region and made several marks on it.
That done, she pulled on her coat, placing the folded map in one of
its pockets, concentrated, and teleported.
 It took six jumps to get to her grandparent's house. These were
the long-distance, exhausting jumps that she and her siblings rarely
made. When Kurumi was younger, she used to hop around Japan and
decorated her room with all sorts of trinkets. Their friends and
neighbors wondered how the Kasuga family could take so many family
trips without anyone ever noticing.
 Kurumi had once even threatened to jump across to China or the
Korean peninsula, but their father finally put his foot down. When
one of them failed to make a jump to the correct location, they
usually ended up somewhere in-between; and Kurumi wasn't that good of
a swimmer.
 Manami finally made it to her grandparent's front door. She
knocked, and after a moment her grandmother answered.
 "Good evening," Manami said, the world swimming around her. "Is
grampa around?"
 Her grandmother's bewildered face was the last thing Manami saw
before she was swallowed in darkness.


 The next thing she saw was her grandfather's face above her. He
looked more amused than concerned. Manami sat up, finding herself on
the couch in the living room. There was a sweet smell in the air-hot
chocolate, she realized.
 "Grampa..." she said, at a loss for words. She couldn't remember
why she was here.
 "Take it easy, my child. You've had a busy day," her grandfather
said.
 Then she remembered everything. Her grandfather helped her over
to the table. She sunk her feet into the leg-warmer beneath the table,
and her grandfather gave her a mug of hot chocolate. She sipped it,
and felt luscious warmth flow into her. It had been such a cold day.
 Slowly and carefully, Manami told her grandfather what had
happened. She didn't go into details about what brought on the event,
but her grandfather gave her a knowing look while she sputtered over
that part.
 Finally she asked the question she'd come there to ask. "Is
there a way to make this go away?"
 "You need to understand Manami, that you weren't just granted
this power out of the blue. You've always had it; you just needed a
strong enough emotional experience to shake it loose," her
grandfather said.
 "But I couldn't have had this power and not known it!" Manami
said. "Kazuya said he could read minds as far back as he could
remember."
 "Yes, as far back as he can remember," her grandfather said.
"His first few years of life were happy ones for his family. As such,
the feelings around him were of warmth and love."
 "What are you saying?" Manami said, growing angry. "Our family
isn't a dysfunctional one! Our father never abused us or molested us.
What the hell are you..." Then she got it.
 "Yes. During those first few months of your life, your father
and brother were overtaken by almost unbearable grief over the loss
of your mother. It stands to reason that if you could feel their
thoughts and emotions you would react in a way to make that pain go
away. You suppressed the power, and you've always been suppressing it
unconsciously. Just as you constricted your emotions," her
grandfather said.
 Manami leaned back until her back was on the floor and stared at
the ceiling. It was true, she realized. It was not only her own
feelings that she had been holding back all those years.
 "But grampa... I can't cope with this. Kazuya's had his entire
life to learn how to deal with this. I'm a teenager, I have enough on
my plate already!" Manami said.
 "What would you have me do?" Grampa asked.
 Manami sat back up. "There was that ring you let me borrow when
I was sick, so I could keep my powers from getting out of control#,"
Manami said.
 "You mean this?" Grampa said, taking the ring from one the right
sleeve-pocket of his yukata. He was full of surprises--he knew she'd
ask. "Here," he said. "Take it."
 Manami took it; suddenly she felt indescribable dread. It felt
like once when she'd been electrocuted by the electric mixer. But
this was worse, it was dark, and vile, and alien. She dropped the
ring, it clattered on the floor.
 "It's... It's alive!" Manami said.
 Grampa gingerly picked it up and stuffed it back into his
sleeve-pocket.
 "Yes, it contains some kind of parasite that feeds on our powers.
It must be very long lived: this ring is as old as the village that
once stood here," Grampa said. "As you can see, it's only useful in
the most dire situations. I have no idea what the long term effects
would be, but I doubt they're good."
 Manami sighed; as disturbed as she was by the feel of the ring,
she still wished it had worked. "Kyosuke once told me about how he
went back in time..."
 "Yes, but that has its own problems," Grampa said. "You may be
able to go back to yesterday and stop yourself from doing whatever it
was that gave you this power--"
 Manami blushed.
 "--but you need to understand that you're simply traveling back
and forth on your own time-stream; the you that exists now is the you
that will appear twenty-four hours ago. You'll still have the power,"
Grampa said.
 "What if I left myself a note and then jumped back to the
present?" Manami said.
 "Do you remember reading a note last night?" Grampa asked.
 "No," Manami said.
 "Then you didn't leave yourself a note," Grampa said.
 "But if I go back and leave myself a note, then I will have read
it," Manami said.
 "But if you do that, and never get the power, than you won't
have a reason to go back and leave yourself the note," Grampa said.
 "But I'll tell myself in the note to go back and leave myself
the note," Manami said.
 "But it won't be the same you that went back and left the note
in the first place. And since that you never existed to start the
loop, the loop never started to begin with, and you're back where you
started," Grampa said.
 And Manami thought that telepathy gave her a headache.
 "Temporal dynamics aside, Manami, do you really want to live the
rest of yourself without experiencing the thing that freed this
ability in you?" Grampa asked.
 Manami thought about it... The aftermath had scared the hell out
of her; but what she felt... That little explosion inside her; she'd
never felt anything that good before; and the feeling of peace and
rightness she'd felt afterwards... These were things she wouldn't ever
want to give up; not if she didn't have to.
 "I... I suppose telepathy is a small enough price to pay," Manami
said.
 Grampa nodded in approval. "Just remember that, when you feel
you can't bear it anymore. It'll carry you through the hard times."
 "Grampa, there's something else... Only Kazuya knows I have this
power, and now you. I don't want anyone else to know," Manami said.
"It's one thing to know that I can move things around with my mind
and teleport... But if they know I can read their minds, they'll never
look at me the same way again."
 "I understand Manami; but don't you think they have a right to
know?" Grampa said.
 "I'll tell them, eventually; but I don't need them trying to
cope with my new abilities at the same time I am," Manami said.
 "All right, that's settled then. Now, I suggest you get some
sleep. I'll help you teleport back later," Grampa said.
 "But I need to be back for school," Manami said.
 "Don't worry," her grandfather said, his eyes gleaming. "I'll
get you back before dawn."

# - see "The Rumbling Spirit" by the same author.

                                               ->   ->   ->

Tuesday.
 Akane was worried. Madoka had been absent for two days in a row.
Akane wouldn't put it past Madoka to skip a couple of days of school,
but she couldn't help feeling concerned.
 It was those feeling of concern that brought her to the
Ayukawas' front door on this cold day in April. Akane sighed and
noticed the sigh float past her face as clouds of mist. She'd checked
the weather section of the Tokyo Times at breakfast, and it didn't
look like this cold snap was going to pass anytime soon. This weather,
combined with Madoka's absence, made her incredibly irritable. It
certainly didn't help that it followed such a blissful weekend.
 She had rung the doorbell three times, and had waited at least
two minutes since the last ring. Painful thoughts wormed their way
through Akane's mind. She took a few deep sniffs, but smelled only
the nostril-stinging freshness of the newly fallen snow; no decay. So
either Madoka was still alive, or not near the front door.
 She tried to turn the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge. She
walked around the perimeter of the house and found the sliding door
that led out onto the patio. She felt a gush of relief as it slid
open.
 She walked into the darkened kitchen. She noticed several dirty
dishes in the sink. Akane frowned; that wasn't like Madoka. She
washed up after every meal: Akane had even joked about her having
Obsessive-Compulsive disorder. But... what if the dishes weren't
Madoka's?
 Horrible ideas flashed through Akane's minds; an older man, from
out of town. He showed up every month or so, and he and Madoka slept
together. She imagined Madoka's naked form squatting atop him,
writhing in ecstasy.
 It was certainly possible; as Kyosuke once said, they knew so
little of Madoka's gang years. It was quite possible she'd have an
old beau from back then.
 Akane stopped, with her hand resting on the yule-post of the
staircase. Did she really want to know if it was true or not? It was
probably better to always have some doubt; but she couldn't imagine
going the rest of her life not knowing.
 She steeled herself and walked up the stairs. The upstairs
hallway was as dark as the rest of the house, no light came from the
doors leading into the various bedrooms. One door alone was closed:
the door leading into Madoka's room. Akane went over to it, and
turned the knob.
 It was just as dark inside. In the dim greenish light of the
alarm clock's LED display she saw Madoka lying in her bed, alone.
Akane's heartbeat raced; she flicked the light switch on and light
flooded the room.
 There were empty instant ramen boxes on the bed stand, as well
as some empty bottles of juice, and a few dirty wineglasses. Madoka
was cocooned in dirty sheets; a layer of grease covered both her face
and hair. Her eyes flung open and she sat up, alarmed.
 "Madoka, I....," Akane started. No, this wasn't about her. "Are
you okay? I called you seven times last night,"
 Madoka breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed on her bed. "Oh,
Akane... Thank God," she said.
 Akane walked over to the bed.
 "I've got a bad case of the flu. I haven't felt this bad in my
entire life," Madoka said.
 "Have you seen a doctor?" Akane asked.
 "Yeah, my parents have a friend that still makes house-calls,"
Madoka said. She pulled the blanket up over her dirty nightgown self-
consciously. "I'm sorry, I must look horrible, I didn't expect
company,"
 "I just wish I could look that beautiful when I was sick," Akane
laughed. She wasn't joking, though.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 "The oxygen tubes won't fit into the samurai helmet," Hatta,
wearing his prop-master hat, said.
 "Well, just tape them on then, the thing doesn't have to be
functional," Komatsu said in a worn-out voice.
 "What, and have the tape show up on film? We have standards in
this film company," Hatta said.
 "And that crab suit of yours was the pinnacle of
verisimilitude?" Yuki said.
 "Verisawhat?" Hatta said.
 "It's a big Scrabble word for believability," Komatsu said.
 Hatta sneered and walked off, yelling at one of the Hoshi girls
to get him some tape.
 The cold wasn't doing much to help Komatsu's mood. Had it been
only three days ago when they started shooting? Everything seemed
fresh and new then. It was an exciting time; now they were shooting
linking footage.
 Komatsu shuddered as the words passed through his brain; was
there any viler combination of words in the Japanese language than
that? The scenes no one ever notices, but their absence destroys the
movie. They could also completely ruin them by introducing continuity
errors--which were impossible to check since the film for the scenes
they linked hadn't been developed yet.
 "You know," Yuki said. "This film of yours really sucks."
 "Yeah, I know," Komatsu said.
 Yuki looked at him, nonplussed. After a moment she continued.
"You know movies like Gamera and Godzilla are not something you
should be seeking to imitate."
 "I know, I was a fool," Komatsu said. He reached his hands out,
as if he was grasping the air. "I want to do something serious and
mature, but I'm stuck doing this," Komatsu said. "It's hard getting
up in the morning knowing I'm making something that people will
consider a joke." He shook his head. "I bet you Kurosawa never had
days like this."
 "That's because Kurosawa was a far superior director," Yuki said.
 "I know! But how does someone like me become someone like that?
No one is born a genius; they have to learn the ropes, the same as
everyone else. But how do you become great? What is it that people
like Kurosawa, Kubrick and Welles do that those others don't? How do
I stop being a hack?" Komatsu said.
 Yuki just stared at him; after a moment she shrugged.
 "Thank you, Yuki," Komatsu said, jumping to his feet. There was
a gleam in his eyes that wasn't there before. "You've given me the
courage to go on. I don't want to spend the rest of my life as a C,
or even B, director. I'm going to push myself, and discover what it
is to be great!"


 Komatsu kissed her hand and then rushed off onto the field,
shouting commands at his crew.
 Yuki emitted a groan of frustration. She'd been trying to insult
him and cause a breakup. How could he be so damn dense?!

                                               ->   ->   ->

Wednesday.
 Hikaru was still feeling a little out-of-sorts, but part of that
was the knowledge that she had to go back to school tomorrow. She had
long ago learned to distinguish between the two types of weariness:
the healthy kind that felt good when you finally lie down at the end
of a long day, and the vitality-sucking halo of dizziness that
accompanied sickness. The latter had finally left her; leaving her
with more than her fair share of the former.
 Hikaru rang the doorbell and waited. She couldn't help feeling
guilty. Madoka had asked for help; which she almost never did.
Hikaru's illness, the same that had felled her friend, prevented her
from offering it. Luckily she had recovered first and would be able
to do something.
 The door swung open and Hikaru saw Akane standing there. She was
wearing an apron and bowed to Hikaru as if she were the lady of the
house.
 "Greeting Hikaru-chan, come in, come in!" Akane said.
 Hikaru wondered if Akane could invite her into someone else's
house; luckily she wasn't a vampire and wouldn't find out. She walked
across the threshold.
 "Uh, what're you... I mean..." Hikaru stumbled. How could she ask
while still being polite?
 "Please, have a seat," Akane said, motioning to the living room.
"I've got to check my dumplings. I'll be right back."
 Akane slid on her slippered feet into the kitchen. Hikaru, for
lack of anything better to do, went into the living room and sat down.
The blinds had been pulled up, not simply open, and the room smelled
of fresh air, even though the windows were closed. Akane must've
aired out the house, Hikaru realized.
 What the hell was going on? Akane was behaving like Madoka's
mother. Were Madoka and Akane such good friends already? Surely you
had to be very good friends with someone to care for them when they
were sick...
 Akane came in, still clad in apron, and sat across the table
from Hikaru. "You probably want to see Ayukawa, right?" Akane said.
"She's taking a nap right now, but if you can stay until five, that's
when I'm waking her."
 Hikaru felt a creeping emptiness inside her. She'd felt it
before: it was how she felt when she wanted something she couldn't
have. Not so much jealousy as despair. But it didn't make sense for
her to feel that way; not now.
 "I..." Hikaru said. She couldn't think of any way to ask the
question without sounding petty; so she gave up on it. "How is she?"
 "Getting better, I hope. She said that her stomach cramps have
gone away now that she's eating real food," Akane said, a hint of
pride in her voice. "She's also got a runny nose, which means she's
in the last phase of the flu. She'll probably be back to school on
Monday, if not Saturday."
 "...That's good to hear," Hikaru said. It was, so why did she feel
so bitter?
 Hikaru shocked herself when she realized that she had no
interest in seeing her old friend. She rose to her feet. "Tell Madoka
I was here; I might stop by tomorrow."
 "Oh, it's only an hour and a half," Akane said. "I'm sure seeing
you will make her feel a lot better."
 "I've got four days of homework to catch up on," Hikaru said.
"Tell her I hope she gets better soon."
 She didn't spare another word to Akane as she left. She walked
almost a mile, deep in thought, before she realized she was walking
in the wrong direction. Even though it was Akane and Madoka's
relationship that was bothering her, for some reason she kept
thinking about Kyosuke.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 Madoka looked refreshed when she awoke. Her face was losing its
paleness, and the glow that Akane so loved was returning to her
cheeks.
 Akane brought her tea on a bed tray, and pulled up a chair next
to the bed as Madoka drank it.
 "I'm going to be a little late tomorrow," Akane said. "So don't
expect me before six. I'll come over on the way to school to make you
breakfast, though."
 "Thank you Akane, but that isn't really necessary. I've almost
beaten this bug, it's time I spent some more time up and around,"
Madoka said.
 "It's no trouble at all," Akane said with a flustered smile.
"I'm glad to do it."
 Madoka gave her a cheerful smile. "I'm lucky to have such a good
and devoted friend, Akane."
 Akane couldn't help feeling stung. Friend: is that all she was?
 "The mail came while you were asleep," Akane said. She handed
Madoka a purple envelope. "I got one of these yesterday. It's an
invitation to a party being thrown by some guy called Jun Ryoushi.
You ever hear of him?"
 "Ah, Jun," Madoka said, her cheeks blushing just a bit. Akane
didn't like that look one bit. "You wouldn't have met him, I suppose.
His name starts with r, so he's in the other homeroom. We were good
friends back in elementary school, though," Madoka said, and smiled a
mysterious smile.
 "Is there something you want to tell me?" Akane said, trying to
sound playful. There was a surge of angry jealousy inside her, making
her chest burn.
 "Perhaps another time," Madoka said. "I really hope you're going
to go, Akane. You'll really like him, I think. He's a great guy."
 Akane almost mentioned that she had no interest in guys, but
something held her back. Was it possible that Madoka didn't know that
by now? She must; she must!
 "I might, unless you're not well by then. We could have a movie
night," Akane said. "I've been wanting to take a crack at that
Laserdisc player in your living room."
 "Oh, I know I'll be better by then," Madoka coughed then, as if
she were disputing the point. "On the other hand, maybe it's a good
idea not to rush it," she wavered.
 Madoka pulled her winter kimono tight around her shoulders. "I
just wish this cold weather would pass."
 "I know what you mean," Akane said. "After this last month, I
feel slighted."
 Madoka shook her head. "It's not just that. I don't want some
middling warm weather, I want summer. I want my arms and shoulders to
bake in the sun; I feel like I've been frozen to the bone this winter.
It'll take a while for me to thaw."
 Akane nodded sagely. She knew that only too well.

                                               ->   ->   ->

Thursday.
 Manami was getting the hang of this. It had been difficult at
first; dreaming other people's dreams, having to build a wall in her
head whenever she was close to someone, and the constant background
buzz when she was alone.  None of that bothered her anymore. She'd
even managed to get through yesterday without a single migraine. She
was still drained at the end of the day, however.
 She was sharpening her pencils with a handheld sharpener when
Hikaru arrived. Manami recognized her first as a mind in the distance
that she hadn't felt before, but which felt familiar at the same time.
She looked up and saw Hikaru taking her usual seat across the aisle.
 "Feeling better?" Manami asked. "You look great."
 "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks. It's great to be back!" Hikaru said.
 Manami gave Hikaru a strange look. Hikaru sounded like her usual
cheery self, but her mind was a maelstrom of gloom and hurt. Manami
wondered if its was Hikaru's sickness; she'd never read the mind of a
sick person before.
 But, no, that isn't what this was. This was depression, not just
fatigue. Manami heard that sometimes people got depressed when they
were ill, but there was something else.
 Hikaru turned to look at her. "What? Are you okay Manami?"
 Manami saw her own face flash before her mind's eye; it had a
confused and concerned look. But Hikaru noticed something, the sheen
of the hair, the shape of the nose; suddenly her face morphed into
that of her brother's...
 It was the most beautiful feeling Manami had ever had; pure,
perfect love; but it was tinged with despair. Manami felt a phantom
cramp in her stomach: Hikaru was afraid of losing him.
 Then Manami realized where she'd felt love like that before.
 "I... I'm fine, I just," Manami said, stumbling out of her chair.
She quickly walked out the door and into the hallway. It was still
between classes and there were people in the hallway, so Manami cast
her eyes down so that people wouldn't see the tears.
 Hikaru really loved him, Manami thought. It wasn't just
infatuation; it may be an inconvenience for her brother, but it was
no less real than his feelings for Ayukawa.
 Manami got to the bathroom and sat in one of the stalls. She
pulled off her glasses and wiped the tears from her eyes. A sob
started, but she arrested and repressed it.
 It seemed that things weren't going to be as easy as I thought,
Manami thought. Something like this, unrequited love, wasn't all that
uncommon. People with crushes; children who hated their parents;
people cheating on their spouses; salarymen robbing their employers...
All of these things she would be privy to.
 When the next sob came, she didn't hold it back.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 Akane stared out the window at a wondrous sunset. The sky was
dark-blue and the brightest stars were already visible; the horizon
was rimmed in red and bands of orange light rose from it into the
young night sky.
 She heard the clank of Madoka's spoon in her coffee cup; Akane
spared her a glance. She looked a little pale. It was only a mile
from Madoka's house to this coffee-shop, but she looked pooped. Akane
was glad she was able to dissuade Madoka from walking all the way to
ABCB.
 "That was a glorious walk we had," Madoka said. "It's too bad it
was so cold."
 "Maybe it was too soon to leave the house," Akane said. "I
could've fixed us dinner there."
 "No, I'm feeling much better; not a hundred percent yet, but I'm
getting there," Madoka said.
 "By the way," Madoka said, motioning with her spoon. "That
ribbon is very becoming on you."
 Akane gritted her teeth. She kept forgetting to take the silk
ribbon out of her hair when she left charm school. Usually she caught
her reflection in a shop window and took if off before she got home.
She'd been in such a rush to get to Madoka that she hadn't had time
to look in any shop windows this evening.
 "Uh.... Thanks," Akane said. "I'm trying out a new look," Akane
said, trying to sound casual.
 "I'm all for it," Madoka said with a smile. "You'd be surprised
how much accessorizing can improve your appearance. It's a nice
confidence boost."
 Akane laughed nervously. "I don't even own any jewelry. I could
never get my ears pierced: afraid of needles."
 "Well you don't need to poke a hole in your skin to add a little
something. Try headbands, necklaces, bracelets, anklets-" Madoka said,
stopping as Akane snorted. "What?"
 Akane adopted a wide, sheepish grin. "It's just, the thing is...
At Hoshi, anklets had a special meaning."
 "What, like gang signs or something?" Madoka said.
 "Not quite," Akane said. "You see, a girl wears an anklet to
show that she lost her virginity."
 "Ohhh," Madoka said, and then was quite for a moment. "So you've
never..."
 "Nope," Akane said. "How about you?" Then, quickly: "If you
don't mind answering; that is."
 "It would be disingenuous of me not to answer after I asked
you," Madoka said. "It's safe to say that this flower has not yet
been plucked. Hey, you're blushing!" she said with a laugh.
 "It's just, I've never talked about these things before... " Akane
said. With someone I loved, she commented to herself.
 "I'm sorry, if you're uncomfortable we can talk about something
else," Madoka said.
 "No! That's fine, it's nice being able to talk about these
things with someone," Akane said.
 Akane squirmed in her chair; the next question was going to take
guts. "When was the first time that you thought about... doing it."
 Madoka stared up at the ceiling in thought. "Back in junior high,
I guess. There was this guy that Hikaru and I used to run around with.
He was older; about five years or so. The first crush I ever had."
 Akane thought that it sounded like Madoka wanted to say
something more, but she just stared out at the setting sun.
 "What about you?" Madoka asked.
 "A bit earlier, there was...someone when I was 10. Same age,
though, in my case," Akane said.
 "Funny, I would've expected you'd be after someone older. Guys
mature later than we do," Madoka said.
 Akane felt her face flushing. "Yes, well...."


 An hour later they were walking home. Madoka was shivering.
 "Maybe this really wasn't such a good idea," Madoka said.
 "Don't worry, it's only a couple more blocks. You're strong,
Ayukawa, I know you can make it," Akane said.
 Madoka looked pale in the cold moonlight. Akane couldn't help
remembering Higuchi Ichiyo, who they'd been learning about in
literature class. Madoka looked like those pictures she'd seen of her
in books; when her lungs were being eaten from the inside by
tuberculosis germs and she didn't even realize. Akane felt a shiver
that had nothing to do with the cool night.
 As they were walking past the front gate of Madoka's house,
Akane caught a flicker of movement down the street. She pretended to
look at the nameplate on the stone fence, but kept flicking her eyes
over to the grove of trees at the end of the street. She could make
out a pair of shoes on the ground, but the rest of the figure was in
shadow. Akane probably would have thought she was seeing things if
she'd couldn't feel the dim buzz of a mind associated with those pair
of feet.
 "Is something wrong?" Madoka asked. "Our family name isn't all
that interesting."
 "No, it's nothing... Just a little tired I guess. But hey, look
who I'm talking to. Let's get you inside," Akane said.
 A few minutes later, after Madoka was safely tucked away in bed,
Akane snuck out into the front yard, pulling the door shut with a
soft swoosh and click. She crept along on her hands and knees until
she got to the stone fence. She slowly looked over the lip of the
fence; the figure was still there. She locked onto the mind and
projected an image of a piece of cardboard falling from the top of
the stone fence to the sidewalk, and the wind blowing it towards him.
 Hopefully the lurker wouldn't notice that there wasn't a breeze
blowing the piece of cardboard. Akane moved softly; she could block
her footsteps mentally, but it would be far too much trouble.
 She cross the street, the piece of cardboard the figure saw
would be flipping over a couple of times. She walked straight down
the sidewalk, coming to rest about ten feet away from the figure. She
could make out more detail now: it was definitely a man; but one of
medium build. Nothing she couldn't handle, even without the Power.
 When she was within five feet of him, she dropped the illusion
and leapt at him. He let out a cry of surprise; Akane wrestled him to
the ground. In the pool of the streetlamp their struggle had moved
them into, Akane could see his face clearly: the face of her cousin.
 "Kyosuke!" Akane yelled. "What the hell are you doing lurking
around here? Wait, never mind, I have a fair idea."
 She got off him, and he climbed to his feet. He gave her a
terrified look.
 "Please Akane, you can't let me know I'm here!" Kyosuke said.
 Akane gave him a cockeyed look.


 "So when exactly are you from?" Akane said. She blew on her
coffee.
 "November. The 17th, actually," Kyosuke said.
 "Of this year?" Akane said. She never imagined herself having a
conversation like this. Kyosuke had, of course, told her stories
about his adventures in time. Akane had always assumed they were
bullshit. She still wasn't sure he wasn't having her on.
 "Yes, this year," Kyosuke nodded. He took a bite of his danish.
 In spite of the odd situation, Akane realized that she was going
to have a hell of a time falling asleep tonight. Two coffee shop
visits in under two hours; but where did you take your cousin from
the future for a little talk? Beef bowl?
 "How could you be nostalgic for seven months ago?" Akane said.
 "You wouldn't believe how much has changed..." Kyosuke said, then
gasped. "No, I've said too much."
 "You haven't said enough!" Akane said. "What's the big
difference? In November we'll still be in high school, we don't
graduate until next April."
 Kyosuke said nothing, Akane looked at his reversed image in the
meniscus of his coffee.
 What could've gone wrong? Did someone die? Akane felt her chest
go cold at the thought; the hair on her arms stood up. Who? Not
Madoka!
 Wait a second, Akane thought to herself... Kyosuke must know how
her master plan ended up. She was planning to soon tell Madoka how
she felt; could that be what shattered his world? In his present,
were she and Madoka lovers?
 "There's something I'm been meaning to talk to you about," Akane
said. "About you and Hikaru."
 Kyosuke looked up, there was incredible sadness in his eyes. It
took Akane a moment to remember what she was going to say.
 "You two do make a great couple," Akane said. "One of the best,
in fact. I don't see why you can't be happ-"
 "Shut up!" Kyosuke shouted.
 Several people turned and stared at them. Akane marveled at the
self-control of the people who didn't. Akane folded her arms and
looked at her cousin. He was still in love with Madoka; even though
she had obviously spurned him.
 "It isn't settling, Kyosuke, she's a wonderful girl," Akane said.
 "You don't know anything!" Kyosuke said through gritted teeth.
 "I know that you're chasing rainbows," Akane said. Why couldn't
he just accept defeat?
 "I'd almost forgotten what you used to be like," Kyosuke said.
 "Have I changed that much in the future?" Akane asked.
 "You're deeper; better," Kyosuke said.
 Love can do that, I guess, Akane thought. She always imagined
that the love of a good woman would turn her into a better person.
What was the Akane that this Kyosuke knew like? She felt that she was
finally getting things right-she could only imagine how much farther
along she would be in November.
 After they finished their coffee, they went for a walk. The grey
cloud-cover had finally lifted, and the stars shone crystal clear
above them.
 "So, is there anything more you want to see in the past?" Akane
said.
 "No, who knows who else I might run into," Kyosuke said. "I
suppose it's about time to go home. I'm not looking forward to it,
though."
 Akane clenched her right hand into a fist. "Tell me, cuz, what
was the weather like on the day you left?"
 "Cold... Almost as cold as this. The leaves had fallen from the
trees; I could smell someone burning them. It was a beautiful,
peaceful day, this autumn of my youth," Kyosuke said.
 Akane rolled her eyes; Kyosuke could probably go on for hours if
no one stopped him. Akane came to a halt, her cousin walked a few
feet in front of her. Quickly, she barreled forward and punched him
square in the back of the head. He stumbled and fell, but vanished in
a flash before he hit the concrete.
 Akane cracked her knuckles; she'd enjoyed that a lot more than
she felt was decent. Shimizu sensei wouldn't be pleased.
 Aw, screw her.

                                               ->   ->   ->

Friday.
 Manami sat on the roof overlooking the courtyard where, on
warmer days, the students ate their lunches. It was empty today,
which gave Manami no small amount of relief. The buzz in the back of
her mind was as persistent as ever, but quiet enough for her to
ignore.
 Her lunch today was curried chicken. She didn't used to like
curry; she'd eaten it once when she was a toddler and never recovered.
However she'd been exposed to the sensory information of Kurumi
eating some, and tried some herself. She soon like curry as much as
her sister did.
 That really bothered it. Had she simply never given curry a
chance; or had her experience with Kurumi rewired her brain so that
she liked it? If the telepathy could change that, could it change her
favorite color, her political views, even her sexuality?
 She was no longer afraid of being overwhelmed by the thoughts of
others; but she was afraid of her own personality eroding away, until
there was nothing of herself left.
 She hadn't mentioned this to Kazuya, because he had never known
a world without telepathy; it's possible that there never was a
"real" Kazuya, he was simply the sensory and cognitive programming he
got from the people he was around.
 This wouldn't have bothered Manami if she'd been a Buddhist;
because this lack of self was what they strived for; but the Kasguas
had never been Buddhist.
 Manami saw two figures walk out of the school and into the
warren of trees in the courtyard. They were too far aware to hear
with her ears, but she could hear their words through their thoughts.
It was weird because she heard the conversation take place in four
different voices, and always two simultaneously: how each person
sounded to themselves, and how the other heard them.
 It was Komatsu and one of the girls from Hoshi; Manami
remembered her name being Kaori. She wondered if she should be
listening; but she didn't want to waste energy repressing their
thoughts.
 "Komatsu-san, this is going to be hard to hear; and I'm not the
one who should be telling you; but Yuki doesn't have the decency or
courage so I'm left without a choice," Kaori said.
 "What're you talking about?" Komatsu said; confusion, dread.
 "Yuki's only been going out with you because she wanted to make
someone else jealous. It didn't work, and she doesn't have the guts
to tell you," Kaori said.
 In Komatsu's head was an odd emotion; Manami had no name for it,
but it translated as: "I knew it was too good to be true". It was
quickly repressed by one Manami recognized all too well: denial.
 "You don't know what you're talking about! How dare you impugn
Yuki's honor like that!" Komatsu shouted; but in his mind he was
realizing that it was true.
 "I'm sorry, Komatsu-san," Kaori said, her eyes began to tear up.
Manami could feel her sinuses prickling. "When she told me what was
going on, I was horrified."
 No you weren't, you liar, Manami thought. You only started to
feel guilty when you discovered that Komatsu wasn't the lummox you
believed him to be.
 Manami started as she recognized the vibe inside Kaori's head:
she was in love with Komatsu!
 "Why would she do something like that?" Komatsu said; Manami
felt his eyes tearing up as well.
 "Because she's so in love with this person that she can't think
straight. She didn't realize what she was doing to you at first. She
was trying to get you to stop liking her so you'd break up with her;
but I guess you must really love her."
 He did; and now all three of them were crying. Manami reached
under her glasses to wipe her eyes.
 "Who is this guy? Do I know him?" Komatsu said.
 "Ummm..." Kaori said.
 Manami sat up straight. She mumbled a swearword under her breath.
 "Well there's something you need to know about Yuki. Do you know
the reputation that girls, especially freshman, have at Hoshi's?"
Kaori said.
 "Yeah, they're all really slutty because there's no guys
around," Komatsu said.
 Manami thunked him in the head using telekinesis; he looked
around, bewildered.
 "Uh no, they're kinda... lesbians," Kaori said.
 "What?!" Komatsu said. There was a flash of pornographic scenes
through his head. Manami recognized one from a Cream Lemon LD cover
she'd seen once.
 "A counselor once explained it to me once, it has to do with
their sexuality awakening when there's no men around. Usually by the
time they graduate it wears off; but there are some who really are
lesbians; and this girl and Yuki are of that sort," Kaori said.
 Komatsu felt like he was standing in a shaft of sunlight. "It's
Akane Kasuga, isn't it?"
 Kaori was shocked. "Why, yes, it is... How did you..."
 "We discussed this once. I guess I can't blame Yuki for wanting
her; but... I can't forgive her for what she did," Komatsu said.
 "Please, be gentle with her," Kaori said. "She feels the exact
same thing you do; Akane doesn't love her, and never will. She
already knows the pain you feel."
 "I'm hold back as much as I can," Komatsu said. "But I can't
make any promises."
 "Don't hit her," Kaori said sternly. "I don't know if that's the
kind of man you are-"
 "Don't worry, I'm not. Besides, Yuki could break me in half,"
Komatsu said.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 Hatta found Komatsu sitting alone in one of the classrooms. An
eerie silence filled the room. Komatsu sat in one of the student
desks and stared out the window on the opposite side of the room.
 In spite of himself, Hatta followed his gaze. It was a beautiful
day; there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the grass far beneath them
was lush and green. It was impossible to believe that it was five
degrees below freezing outside.
 "Komatsu," Hatta finally said.
 "Yeah?" Komatsu said, not shifting his gaze.
 "We'd better go, they'll wonder where we are. It's been almost
an hour since the last bell," Hatta said.
 "They won't be waiting for us," Komatsu said. "I called off
shooting for today."
 "What?" Hatta gasped. "Why?"
 "It's too cold; and I thought they could use the break," Komatsu
said.
 That made sense, Hatta thought. They'd been filming every day
since they started.
 "You went all the way over to Hoshi to tell them that?" Hatta
asked.
 "I was there for other reasons," Komatsu said.
 Something clicked in Hatta's mind. Komatsu and Yuki had broken
up; it was the only possible explanation. As Hatta looked at his
friend's glassy stare he wasn't sure what to feel; he had his friend
back... but at what cost?
 "I got the film back from the lab," Hatta said. "We can start to
cut it..."
 "Take the day," Komatsu said. "Who knows when we'll get another
break."
 Several moments passed, but Komatsu didn't say anything more.
 "Well, the cans are in the A/V room if you want to get started
without me," Hatta said.
 "Thanks, I just might," Komatsu said.
 "Are you still going to Ryoushi's party tomorrow?" Hatta said.
 "Of course," Komatsu said, allowing himself a smile. "He's the
one that got me into film in the first place."


 Half an hour later, Komatsu found himself in the A/V room. He
wondered why he hadn't just gone home. The last thing he wanted to
deal with was his stupid movie; he hadn't even begun to think how he
was going to cut the Princess of Silence out of the second half.
 He picked up the first canister and slammed it down next to the
viewer. The label identified it as the first reel of footage they
shot on the second day. This contained the opening shots of the
movie; or that is, the first shots that appeared that weren't special
effects. They were going to shoot those after everything else was
done; he hadn't even begun to think how he was going to accomplish
that.
 He loaded the strip into the viewer and set the speed to real-
time. This was the establishing shot of the hill on that distant
planet where we first meet the ronin. Forty-three seconds in, he
found a perfect start pointing; he rewound the film and slashed the
forty-three second mark width-wise with a razor blade. He pulled the
forty-two seconds worth of film out of the viewer and dropped them
into the trash can.
 He ran it through again: without a fade-in the screen leapt from
black to a full-blown image. Komatsu liked the way it flowed; he
seemed to cut through the nonsense. Just having the scene start
immediately showed such audacity... No, Komatsu realized, not
audacity: confidence. He was playing straight with the audience: "Hey
you guys out there, the ones in the sticky seats. I've got a story to
tell you, and I'm not going to pretend it's the best damn thing under
the sun, and I don't think I'm the best thing since sliced bread, and
neither should you. I got a story to tell, I think it's a good one,
and if you give it a chance, I don't think you'll be disappointed."
 Komatsu smiled. He made a few more cuts to quicken the pace; he
used scotch tape to hold the new filmstrip together, and ran it. The
slow pan on those green fields, up to our two figures in samurai gear,
having their earnest conversation.
 Komatsu cut the film at that point and rewound it onto the first
reel, which he put into a small film case. He wrote "Scene 1,
establishing" on the label and put it aside.
 The next scene would be the close-ups between the two ronin;
those were shot just yesterday, so they'd be in a complete different
reel. Komatsu went to the last film case, the one against the wall,
and found yesterday's date on it.
 As he began to spool, cut, and tape, he couldn't remember the
last time he'd felt so alive. Perhaps it was simply because he was
keeping himself busy. What Yuki had done had hurt him-but life was
still worth living; even with the pain.
 After an hour of work, he spooled up and played the first five
minutes of the movie. He was in awe: it actually looked like a movie.
He'd made an entire movie in TAP Gun, but that had been videotape,
edited inside a VCR. As good as even the best shots were, it still
had the quality of a tape of someone's birthday party.
 But this was film-the same kind of film that Apocalypse Now,
Star Wars, and Ran were on. Without even realizing it, he had been
inducted into a special guild: the brotherhood of filmmakers. It felt
good to belong.

                                               ->   ->   ->

Saturday.
 Akane was using her boomerang to take out a Keese when the call
came in.
 "Can you get that?" Akane's mother called from the other room.
 "Why don't we have an answering machine?!" Akane said in rage.
Kazuya stared at her with predatory glee; rather, he stared at the
red-and-gray controller in her hand.
 Akane let it drop, and her brother caught it before it hit the
ground. He flicked the reset button on the Famicom and her Hyrulian
Adventure vanished in an instant.
 Akane growled at him and rushed into the other room, where the
phone rang for the fifth time. She picked up the receiver and
muttered a hello.
 "Greetings, is this Akane?" a familiar voice said.
 "Oh, headmistress!" Akane said. "How can I... Wait a second, why
are you calling me?"
Did principal's have a habit of calling their former students? Well,
maybe if they were favored pupils; but Akane had never been one of
those. Her teachers liked her; the disciplinary staff loathed her.
 "I was wondering if you and your parents could come in and see
me today, Akane. After school, naturally," the headmistress said.
 "That's all right, I suppose..." Akane stopped. "Wait a second,
you can't tell me what to do! That's a privilege you so blithely
threw away."
 Akane's father took the phone from her hand and gave her a dirty
look.
 "Excuse me, is this Akino-san? Ah yes, hello. I'm sorry about
our daughter, she's obviously distraught..." her father said. "Oh? Is
there any particular... Well, no it shouldn't be any trouble. All
right, we'll see you then." he hung up the phone.
 "Say hi to her for me while you're there," Akane said. "'cause I
ain't going."
 "Try to behave, for once in your life, Akane-chan" her father
said. "Speaking of which, school starts in half an hour, shouldn't
you be out of your pajamas by now?"
 "Did she say why she wanted to talk to us?" Akane said.
 "She said she wanted it to be a surprise," her father said.
 Akane gave him a cockeyed look. "I have a bad feeling about
this."

                                               ->   ->   ->

 Akane and her parents walked into the headmistress's office a
little after one o'clock. The headmistress rose and bowed to her
parents. She gave Akane a smile, which left her bewildered.
 They exchanged vapid pleasantries, and discussed the weather;
Akane couldn't help but squirm in her seat. She had no happy memories
of this room-and it was disconcerting that she still had no idea why
she was here.
 "Now, the reason I've called you here is because I got a call
from Shimizu-san yesterday," the headmistress said.
 Akane's jaw fell open. Her parent's looked confused, but were
too polite to interrupt.
 "She was my teacher when I went to finishing school twenty years
ago," the headmistress said. "So I know I can trust her judgment. She
told me about Akane's progress in her class, and how she is the most
earnest and capable student she's ever had," the headmistress said.
 "I'm afraid there must be some mistake..." her father began. He
stopped and stared at the carpet in confusion.
 Akane's mother looked at her. "Akane, when were you enrolled in
charm school?"
 Akane sank back into her seat. "I'm still enrolled; I've been
going since the beginning of this month."
 "She's made quite an impression on Shimizu-san," the
headmistress said. "Though Akane seems good at hiding her proficiency
for ladylike behavior."
 Akane noticed a cold glint in the headmistress's eyes. Shimizu-
san had forced her hand; she doesn't want to do this. Whatever it was
she was doing. Akane had a very bad feeling she knew what that thing
was.
 "How could you have gone to charm school without us knowing
about it?" her mother asked.
 "Where did you get the money?" her father asked.
 "I've been working at a manga store after school three days a
week, it pays the tuition," Akane said.
 "Part-time jobs are against the rules, Akane," the headmistress
said. "You're going to have to quit; it doesn't befit a Hoshi
student."
 "Excuse me, did you say-" her mother said.
 "Yes, Shimizsu-san convinced me that I had been hasty in my
decision.," the headmistress said.
 Akane's mother grabbed her arm. "Honey, that's great!"
 Akane's father patted her on the back.
 Akane gripped the arm-rests of her chair and gave the
headmistress a penetrating stare. "I have no interest in returning,"
 "Akane, I know my actions must have hurt you," the headmistress
said. "I acted in haste, and out of hurt feelings. What you said
deserved nothing more than a reprimand. I was wrong, Akane, and I
apologize," the headmistress said. "The students and teachers miss
you terribly. I think it's time you came back."
 Akane shook her head. Her head was swimming; this couldn't be
happening. Her plan couldn't be falling apart. The headmistress did
NOT just admit she was wrong and apologized.
 "No. I'm not coming back-" Akane said.
 "Akane!" her father said in a scolding tone. "Hoshi's is one of
the best schools in the country. Do you know how hard it was to get
you in here in the first place?"
 "Even if I did want to come back, it's a month into this
trimester. I just can't switch back," Akane said.
 "That's a good point," the headmistress said. "You can transfer
at the end of the trimester; at the end of summer vacation you'll
come back here instead of Koryou. I can even get one of the students
to give you the summer homework a little early so you can catch up."
 "I didn't agree-" Akane started.
 "I believe that's settled," her mother said. "We're glad to be
back."
 "The school just hasn't been the same without Akane," the
headmistress said. Akane noted some regret in her voice.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 The wind picked up around 2:00, and screamed across Tokyo in
strong gusts.
 Akane, in the process of deciding what to wear at Ryoushi's
party that night, looked out the window and saw the leafless branches
of the trees violently shaking. She switched on the TV and allowed a
weather report to reassure her that a hurricane wasn't imminent.
 It rattled the windows of Komatsu's bedroom; causing him to look
up from the chroma key manual he was reading. He drew the shade and
watched as the wind caused the trees in his front yard to shake, and
tossed a neighbor's trash can down the street.
 Just across the street from where Akane was watching the news,
Manami sat alone in her room and tried to keep her mind from drifting
to the thoughts of others.
 Kyosuke ignored the howling sound coming from his window and
continued to concentrate on a difficult physics problem. Not for the
first time, he despaired of his chances to get into a good university.
 Hatta and Yuki, though ten miles apart, were so engrossed in the
Yuri manga they were reading that they didn't even notice the tempest
outside.
 Ayukawa lay floating in her bathtub, unaware of the wind storm.
She enjoyed being able to breathe without obstruction. She felt the
most relaxed she'd felt in a long time. She thought of the man she
had fallen in love with-and regretted that he didn't have the courage
to admit he felt the same.
 Hikaru sat at her bedroom desk; she looked up at the lonely
sound of the howling wind, and reflected on the horrible emptiness
that had taken hold of her.
 The wind blew on, as it had for aeons, oblivious to the ones it
had touched.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 Akane rang the doorbell and turned to the mob that stood behind
her. "Don't be shocked if she appears a bit frail; it was a pretty
nasty bug."
 Madoka's house was the last stop on their cross-city tour before
they made their way towards Ryoushi's beach house.
 Kyosuke and Komatsu were better dressed than usual, their hair
far neater than Akane had ever seen it; impressive considering how
windy it was. On the other hand, Hatta was his usual slobbish self.
Manami wore a blue dress with a low hemline and a high neckline.
Kurumi wore a black number that left little to the imagination.
 Hikaru wore a sleeveless blouse with a black micro skirt. She
hadn't said much on their journey, and had responded coldly to any
attempt to bring her into the conversation. Akane hoped she would
perk up now that Madoka was with them.
 Kaori, who had begged Akane to take her along, wore a white
dress that was almost as conservative as Manami's.
 The door opened and Akane gasped at the sight. Madoka was back
in full-force. The bloom was back on her cheeks, the sheen had
returned to her hair, the cloudiness had faded from her eyes, leaving
them crystal clear. Her face contained one of those smiles that
destroyed any doubts Akane could ever have about her sexuality.
 "It's great to see you all," Madoka said in a musical voice. She
stepped back and motioned for everyone to enter.
 "We can't stay long, it's a long, and cold, train ride out to
the shore," Kyosuke said.
 "Oh, don't worry about that. In light of this momentous occasion,
and the weather, I ordered a limo to take us out there and back
again," Madoka said.
 There were gasps of amazement from everyone in the mob.
 "Ayukawa-san, you are the best friend I've ever had. Marry me!"
Komatsu said.
 Akane felt her right-hand gripping into a fist. She noticed that
Kyosuke had done the same. She let it pass, and Madoka didn't even
deign to respond to his comment.
 "Sit down, I'll make us some tea while we wait," Madoka said.


 Hikaru hadn't said a single word as they made the tea. As it
boiled, she simply started at the counter with a strange expression
on her face.
 "You look much better, Hikaru," Madoka said. "It looks like the
virus didn't hit you as hard as it hit me."
 Hikaru simply hummed an acknowledgement and drummed her fingers
on the counter.
 This simply was like her, Madoka thought. Hikaru was capable of
getting enthusiastic about anything. Could she still be sick?
 "Are you feeling all right, Hikaru?" Madoka asked.
 "I'm feeling just well, Ayukawa," she replied.
 Madoka felt her chest grow cold; Hikaru hadn't called her by her
family name since kindergarten.
 She just stared at Hikaru for a few minutes; she wasn't sure
what to say. It occurred to Madoka that something else was wrong, but
with her. There had been fights between them in the past too; but
they always ended with them both admitting that they still loved each
other; and nothing could stop that.
 So why didn't Madoka want to pry any deeper? Why didn't she talk
plainly to her friend and ask what was bugging her. What could be so
terrible that it could end their friendship?
 Madoka felt her stomach knot up-and for once she fully allowed
herself to accept that  something, or someone, had entered their
lives and had come between them. She'd known this was coming, with
the same sense of inevitably she felt about her parent's death. She
just didn't think it would've happened this soon.
 So Madoka didn't say anything more while they were in the
kitchen together; and they shared scarcely a word for the rest of the
night.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 "Do you know anyone who wasn't invited to this party?" Hatta
asked.
 "Nuh-uh," Kurumi said. "Even the freshmen were invited, and
they've only been at our school for a few weeks."
 "It shouldn't be surprising," Ayukawa said. "Jun Ryoushi isn't a
member of any clique, and yet he's part of all of them."
 Manami felt feelings of goodwill and tenderness from everyone in
the car, except for Akane, who felt a little bemused. Manami didn't
think it was possible for anyone to be so universally liked; but
apparently they all through as fondly of Ryoushi as she did.
 Manami remembered the first time she'd met Ryoushi; she'd been
sitting in the courtyard of school last fall, working on a poetry
project for her Japanese class. She hadn't been very good at it.
 He'd been walking by, and mentioned that he couldn't help
noticing the syllable markings on her paper, and asked if she needed
any help. Over the course of the next hour, he'd taught her how
better to express herself. She ending up getting an A on the poem,
and it was entered into a regional competition. It'd ended up in 17th
place, but that was out of 500, so Manami didn't feel that bad about
it.
 She hadn't picked up the ink stone and brush after that, though.
She'd always feared that without Ryoushi to help her, she'd never be
able to write another poem. She remembered the feeling of peace
writing this first poem had given her; she wondered if she could ever
feel that stillness inside her again, with the thoughts of others
within her.
 Which reminded her... She had met Ryoushi in the hallway the
other day. She had decided to strike up a conversation with him, RSVP
in person as it were. She hadn't managed to feel any thoughts coming
from it all. It didn't feel like Akane's mind did; where she could
feel the presence of Akane's thoughts but couldn't 'decode' them. It
was as if Ryoushi hadn't been there at all.
 The limo drove on into the night.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 The entire school must be here,  Komatsu thought as she looked
around the ballroom. Then he realized that that might be literally
true. Ryoushi seemed to be a friend to everyone.
 "Hey Komatsu," a female voice said.
 Komatsu turned around and saw the voice belonged to Kaori. Now
that she was out of that heavy coat, he saw that her dress exposed
her shoulders. He had once heard that men got hot seeing naked
hemispheres of flesh; which meant that men not only found breasts
arousing, but also knees, elbows, and shoulders. At the moment,
Komatsu was inclined to agree.
 "Hey Inoue-san, great party, huh?" he asked.
 "Yeah, this wine is great," she said, indicating her glass. "It
has this wonderful cherry flavor, and I can't even taste the
alcohol."
 "That's because it's cherry Kool-Aid," Komatsu said.
 "It is?" Kaori said, examining the glass. "Was I supposed to mix
this with vodka? I didn't see a bottle."
 "Ryoushi believes people can have fun without alcohol," Komatsu
said. "It sounds lame, but he's managed to have some of the best
parties on earth. I'm not quite sure how he pulled that off-but I'm
just happy to be invited."
 "Hey, would you care to dance the next number with me?" Kaori
asked.
 "Oh... I didn't think you danced with guys," Komatsu said.
 "What?" Kaori said, giving him an odd look.
 "I mean, you came with Akane. So I assumed the two of you were...
well, you know," Komatsu trailed off.
 "I just wanted to come to this party, and Akane wasn't taking
anyone, so she decided to help me out," Kaori said, and then laughed.
 "Oh, well, very well then," Komatsu said.
 Almost as if on cue, the current song ended. Kaori offered
Komatsu her arm. He took it and walked out into the center of the
floor. The next song started, some slow number by Kanako Wada.
 After a few moments, Komatsu got the courage to look his partner
in the eyes. She looked beautiful; her smooth soft skin, her sleek
black hair done up in a ponytail.
 Their glances met, then broke in a bout of self-consciousness.
 Half-way through the song, Kaori leaned forward and whispered
into Komatsu's ear. "You know Komatsu, the real reason I came to this
party... was you."
 "What?" Komatsu hissed. His heart leapt, but he quickly beat the
feeling of elation down. He'd fallen for this once before.
 "I've enjoyed working with you on the film," Kaori said. "I love
that giddiness you get when you're working on that film; when you
have that light dancing in your eyes."
 Yuki had never said anything like to him, Komatsu thought. Come
to think of it, he couldn't remember her ever complimenting him on
anything specific, ever. It had always just been "you're a great guy",
"you're a wonderful boyfriend", "I can't believe you ate the whole
thing."
 "I don't know what to say," Komatsu said. He hadn't ever thought
of Kaori in that way. He'd only ever known her when he was Yuki.
She's the one who'd introduced them, when they were looking for cast
and crew.
 "After what Yuki did to you, I can understand that you feel like
you can never trust a woman again," Kaori said. "But I want to know
you better, Komatsu. I want you to be part of my life."
 The song ended, and the two of them parted. Kaori reached into
her purse and pulled out a slip of paper. She handed it to Komatsu,
he saw that a phone number had been written on it. She'd prepared it
beforehand; perhaps she really did only come here for him.
 "I can wait until you're over Yuki," Kaori said. "If you ever
need something to talk to, I'll be there."
 She gave him a tender smile and walked away.
 Komatsu looked down at the slip of paper; he couldn't believe
that just yesterday he'd had his heart ripped out. He had begun to
wonder if all women were as cold and manipulative underneath as Yuki
was. Then he realized the truth: Yuki was that way because she was a
bitch, not because she was a woman.
 Komatsu folded the piece of paper in two and placed it in his
pocket and allowed himself to grin.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 Akane was wondering if she had the nerve to ask Madoka to dance
when she heard a tapping noise over the PA system. She turned and saw
a guy about her age standing on a table. He had a microphone in his
hand, which he was tapping.
 "Is this thing on?" he asked jokingly. A few people laughed.
 Akane felt something like an itch in the back of her mind. She
had the strangest feeling that she'd seen this guy before; and yet
she recognized neither his features or his voice.
 "Hi folks, are we having a good time?" Ryoushi asked.
 The partygoers cheered in response. Ryoushi smirked and bowed in
appreciation.
 "I'm glad you all decided to join me here tonight, because I
have something important to say; though I truly wish I didn't have to
say it," Ryoushi said.
 He sat down on the edge of the table. "I've thrown parties like
this once every season for the past three years; entire classfuls of
people have come and gone. It saddens me to have to tell you that
this party is going to be my last."
 Sounds of dismay echoed from every corner of the room. Akane saw
that her three cousins were in wide-eyed shock.
 "My parents have been transferred overseas, and I'll be gone by
the first of May," Ryoushi said.
 Kurumi was in tears, Manami's face showed the strain of
repressing deep feelings of sorrow, Kyosuke continued to look shocked.
 "I consider everyone in this room my friend, and I love you all
dearly. If it was up to me, I'd never leave, but my time here is over.
Everything ends, my friends, but every ending is a beginning in
disguise. I know it's tempting to cling to the past; and we had some
wonderful times together, but we can't just live off our old memories.
If we did so, we'd be cheating ourselves. We need to move on, and
make every day better than the one before it," Ryoushi said.
 A guy in a grey jacket walked up to the table and whispered
something in Ryoushi's ear.
 "What? Really? You're kidding me," Ryoushi said, then seemed to
notice he was still on the PA. "Our friend Baienno has just informed
me that the temperature outside is at least 60 degrees, so I suggest
we all move out of doors and onto the beach!" Ryoushi said.
 Akane rushed to the nearest door and threw it open. A warm
breeze blew past her, ruffling her hair. She walked out, mouth agape.
It must've risen 20 degrees within the last hour.
 "I heard about this on the news," Kyosuke said. "There was some
blast of tropical air coming, but it wasn't supposed to hit us until
tomorrow afternoon."
 Komatsu yanked his sports coat off. "The cold snap is over!" he
shouted.
 Akane kicked off her shoes, hiked up her skirt, and ran over
sand-covered terrain to the shore.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 By 2:00, Kyosuke and his friends were the only people left on
the beach. Even Ryoushi had gone inside to go to sleep. Everyone else
had to catch the last train; but the limo service Madoka had used was
available twenty-four hours a day.
 Just after midnight the temperature had settled down into the
fifties, so they had gathered driftwood and made a fire. They'd sat
around it for the past two hours and talked and told jokes. Around
one o'clock they'd started to tell stories. Hatta was in the process
of finishing his.
 "...and so the women pulls out his can of mace and yells at the
guy running towards her 'Get back!'. The guy says 'look lady, I'm
sorry I had to push you off the road like that, but there was a guy
sitting in your backseat, and he had a knife.'
 "So naturally the woman doesn't believe him, so she chases the
guy off and finds a payphone and calls the police. But as she's
waiting for them, her curiosity gets the better of her, and-"
 "Yeah, yeah, yeah, we get the point," Ayukawa said. "She goes to
the car and finds the body of the murderer in the back, impaled on
his own knife. I've heard it a thousand times before."
 Komatsu was sitting on his back, his mind engulfed in the stars
that burned high above them. He was so absorbed that he didn't notice
that Ayukawa was talking to him until Akane nudged him with her foot.
 "What? I'm sorry, I missed that," Komatsu said as he sat up.
 "I said it's your turn. Everyone else has told a story. I would
prefer it if it didn't involve yet another woman being stalked by a
bloodthirsty murderer with a knife," Ayukawa said.
 "Or ghost stories," Kyosuke said. "Those really scare Ayukawa."
 Ayukawa shot him a dirty look. Hikaru gave a chortle that
Komatsu could've sworn sounded mean-spirited. Akane looked bewildered.
 "All right then. My story is going to be a little different,
it's not really a campfire story, but..." Komatsu said. He took a
deep breath. "All right, let's begin."


 A long time ago there lived a Shogun who had a son who was more
interested in painting pictures and being friendly with girls than
doing his duty as a samurai.
 One day the Shogun, who was by that time an old man, met a
peasant who he sees fight off a horde of brigands. As the old man
watches the battle, he wonders why his son can't be more like this
peasant. The old man is shocked to discover that the peasant looks
almost exactly like his son.
 The old man has the retainers bring the peasant before him, and
he informs the peasant that he has come up with a plan. Since the
peasant looks like his son, and has natural martial abilities, he
will train him in the ways of the samurai and pretend that the
peasant is his son. When he chooses to retire from the shogunate, the
peasant would take his place.
 ("But what about the real son?" Hikaru asked. "Did he just kill
him?"
 "I'm getting to that," Komatsu said.)
 A few days later, the prince was captured while he slept by
several of the Shogun's elite guard. He was taken to one of the old
man's more secluded estates out in the country. He was then forced to
wear a sack with eye and mouth holes cut out of it. He was never
allowed to take the sack off, even to clean his face or hair.
 ("Ewwwww," Kurumi said.)
 Now I know this seems cruel, but the prince loved this. The
country life was peaceful and provided him with plenty of inspiration
for his paintings. Now that his father had given up on him being a
warrior, he was happier than he had ever been before.
 Meanwhile, back in the capitol, the peasant was undergoing
extensive combat training under his father's own instructor. He made
tremendous progress, and the instructor admitted that the peasant may
be even more skilled than the old man was in his prime.
 Now one of the old man's vassals wasn't at all happy with this
situation. He was a real blue-blood and he would never allow a mere
peasant to lord over his country. So he made plans to assassinate the
boy and bring the real prince back from the country.
 However, just as he was about to put his plans into motion, the
old man's chief scribe stayed his hand with an incredible revelation.
Not only did the two boys look alike; they had the same birthday. The
two boys were twins!
 The scribe and vassal go to the shogun with their discovery, and
he is befuddled. He can't think of any way that this situation could
happen: how could one of his sons have ended up as a peasant? The
shogun decides to seek out the boy's nanny, who now lived in a far-
off kingdom.
 When the shogun finally finds the nanny, she informs him that
the truth is even more complicated: the boys are twins, but neither
are his son!
 You see, the shogun's wife had died in childbirth.  (Manami
sniffled a little) But she had given birth not to a son, but a
daughter!
 One of the old man's most trusted advisors, now long since dead,
knew that the old man and his wife truly loved each other. He knew
that it was very unlikely that the shogun would ever marry again, so
there would be no prince to take up the throne when the shogun passed
on.
 So this advisor traded the daughter for a son of a peasant
family. The peasant's sister was the shogun's real child!
 The shogun is livid and returns home. He has the peasant
imprisoned, and sends several of his soldiers to bring the "prince"
back from his country estate.
 He then goes into town to visit his daughter. He meets his
daughter, a peasant woman who had just been engaged to be married.
His daughter is a gentle and happy young woman, who comported herself
with decency and respect.
 The old man can't bring himself to tell his daughter the truth;
for, you see, his daughter has managed to find true happiness. The
prince was sensitive and too easily depressed; whereas the peasant
had a steely resolve and ambition, but neither of his "sons" were
ever truly happy.
 The old man's successor surpassed him in all things. The new
shogun was remembered for centuries to come as a capable political
leader and military commander. He was a polymath: able to conquer on
the battlefield, but also capable of bringing about peace and
prosperity without resorting to war. He was also, I might note, one
heck of a painter.


 Komatsu let out a long sigh. That story had taken a lot out of
him. It had grown as he was telling it.
 "That was a good story," Hikaru said.
 "Indeed," Manami said.
 "Why don't you make a movie out of that, instead of that stupid
tokusatsu thing you're working on?" Ayukawa said.
 "It's just a story," Komatsu said. "It's not a movie. I mean,
there's no camera movements, transition effects, allusions to other
films..."
 Komatsu stopped; something clicked into place in his mind.
Movies were stories; everything else was just the way the story was
told. The story was paramount; what he wanted to do was let people
see the world the way he saw it. All this technical jargon and
referencing other people's movies just got in the way.
 Komatsu felt a steely resolve of his own; once he was done with
the 47 Ronin, he was going to abandon the cheesy crap all together.
His next movie was going to be heartfelt; he was going to tell a
story, damn it. If he made something he could care about, then other
people would care too.
It was the literary golden rule; and it was his key to greatness.

                                               ->   ->   ->

 By dawn, Akane was the only one left awake. She stirred the fire
with a stick and looked at her sleeping friends.
 This night had reminded her of another one, the night after
Spring Day, more than a month ago. She and her friends had sat in
Madoka's living room, listened as her delicate hands played the
piano; then they had talked long into the night about the things they
never seemed to talk about at any other time. But this time the boys
had been along: and they had all added something to the proceedings.
 Akane looked at the red clouds floating just above the golden
horizon. There were moments in life that were nothing short of
perfect. Nothing you could add could make them better, anything you
took away would lessen them.
 Akane took a deep breath of cool, salt air. These were moments
where you took account of everything that had happened to you, and
found a positive sum. Life had led me to this perfect moment; so
everything that I endured was worth it.
 Akane Kasuga, seventeen years old, experienced one of those
perfect, golden moments, as she watched the sun rise that morning in
late April.

                                        End Part Three

To be concluded in Part Four.

Since I can't take credit where it isn't deserved, some of the prose
stylings in this chapter were heavily derived from Alfred Bester's "The
Demolished Man", which I highly recommend. Even if it does make this
story look like a piece of excrement.