Meet the Hakamichis –A USM Summer Series Conclusion Update

[Hoitash]

Because when you get people together with a similar interest in a niche field, they’re gonna have a good time.

Even if the terrain is textbooks and cell phones.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Eight: Alternate Strategies


On a barren world on the spinward edge of the Eastern Fringe, a group of Eldar Rangers hunkered behind the ancient ruins of one of their ancient cities, built before humanity even learned to swing a bone like a club. Across the wasteland, a veteran squad of Imperial Guardsmen moved from cover to cover, attempting to bring their plasma guns to bear against the xeno foe. Another squad was attempting to flank the Rangers, but the eldar had spotted them. Bringing the humans into their sights, the Rangers opened fire on the flanking veterans.

“Son of a bitch,” Lynda grumbled, “It’s crap like this that put us on the endangered species list.”

Hisao looked down at the dice rolls of one’s and two’s, “Wow, that’s conscript level failure, right there.”

Lynda sighed and grabbed the dice, “I miss my Seers.”

After a particularly exhausting tutoring session, Hisao had recommended the two play a killteam game using the models they had bought in town. Fortunately Hisao had glue and snippers handy.

Finding a place to play had taken a bit more thinking, but, remembering her stepbrother’s dedication to the game, Lynda recommended the basement. Once they were down there, all it took was a card table, some books, and a couple plastic cups, and they had a viable, if somewhat small, game space.

The basement itself was full of boxes and shelves of boxes, and while some were labeled, most weren’t. Lynda had a suspicion that most of the unlabelled ones contained the possessions of the late Mrs. Hakamichi, but was unwilling to voice her suspicion. In the end it didn’t really matter; the two had a place to play each other using dice and overpriced plastic and metal models.

Communicating during the game was its own challenge, but the two had developed a pidgin of sorts composed of Japanese, English, and sign language. Fortunately, angry, incoherent nerd rage transcended all languages.

“So assault phase,” Lynda rolled her eyes, “Your turn. Come at me, bro.”

“If by ‘come at you’ you mean ‘Rapid Fire range’ then yes. Yes I will.”

“I hope your plasma vets blow themselves up.”

“They will,” Hisao stated, “It’s what they do.”

Hisao grabbed his tape measure and started moving the plasma veterans forward, out of the cover provided by one of the books so that some of them could take shelter behind a plastic cup. Once those actually holding one of the precious weapons was safely behind cover, Hisao quickly shuffled the remaining six soldiers and their powerfist armed sergeant out into the open. When that was done, he did the same with the other squad, though they were completely exposed, the cover of a cell phone only a few inches away.

“Shooting phase,” Hisao declared, “Melta vets are gonna run….”

Hisao rolled a single D6 and grumbled when it rolled a two; the cell phone was at least three inches away. Hisao carefully measured the movement of the Guardsmen, to get them as close as possible to the cup. The lasgun toting cannon fodder were in front of their meltagun armed fellows and their chainsword wielding sergeant. Having moved the flanking squad of veterans, Hisao turned to the other squad, whose plasma guns were poised to rip a killteam style volley of death upon their xenos foe.

“Firing plasma vets,” Hisao said, and, having declared his target, used the tape to confirm that the Rangers were in range.

All three Vets were within twelve inches, and Lynda sighed, “This is gonna hurt.”

“Hopefully,” Hisao stated.

The first plasma gun was equipped with killteam cheese, and fired two large blasts over the hunkered eldar squad. The first blast went wide, nearly vaporizing the melta vets, but the second blast was right on target. Half of the surviving eight Rangers were under the blast.

Fortunately the Rangers were Shrouded and Stealthed, and so as long as Lynda avoided rolling a one for cover saves, she was fine. The second plasma vet, however, cared nothing for cover, and easily blasted one of the Rangers to atomic oblivion. The third veteran blew himself up, as his weapon overheated in his hands.

Hisao sighed, “You know, the sad thing is that that’s still a net gain for me.”

Lynda nodded, “Lasguns?”

“My kingdom for an officer,” Hisao remarked.

None of the lasguns managed to down any of the eldar, and when Lynda asked if Hisao was going to declare an assault, he just chuckled and waved for her to go.

“Screw moving, time to return fire,” Lynda declared, “Thanks for recommending this, by the way.”

“I thought you were a bit stressed out lately,” Hisao said, grimacing as the xeno snipers ripped through his veterans, “this seemed the best way to help that didn’t screw with your meds.”

Lynda chuckled and nodded, “Your turn.”

“We’re at turn… three?”

Lynda nodded again as she grabbed her dice and set them aside, “You know if you assault me I’m fucked, right?”

Hisao smirked, “Maybe~. So, what do you think of Hakamichi Manor?”

Lynda smirked at the nickname and thought the question over while Hisao moved both veteran squads –what was left of them, anyway- closer to her precious eldar.

“Well, it’s certainly not boring,” Lynda declared, “I never knew such a large house could feel so crowded.”

“Getting cabin fever?” Hisao asked, “Melta vets are gonna shoot their melta guns and the Sergeant’s plasma pistol only.”

“Crap,” Lynda said, “And kinda. I mean I like it here –you guys are great, and Hideaki is… Hideaki, and Mr. Hakamichi… is he deliberately trying to be here as little as possible?”

Hisao nodded, “It’s his way of being supportive. Speaking of, it sounds like you need some space from this place. Wow, that was terrible.”

“That’s BS 3 for you,” Lynda stated, “and maybe. Guess I’m used to being a city girl; staying at a house all the time feels weird. Even if we are going into town, it just seems… off, somehow.”

“May I make a suggestion?” Hisao asked, “Besides die under the overwhelming firepower of the Imperium, I mean?”

Lynda nodded, “You gotta hit me first.”

“Go out on a date. Just you, Misha, and a nice, quiet restaurant in town. Also, plasma vets are firing.”

“Shame you didn’t have the points for shotguns.”

“Right, ‘cuz that woulda made the difference. Rolling to wound.”

“Ow, my fragile space elf bodies. Cover saves. That sounds like a good idea, actually. Gives us an excuse to dress up before we pull off our clothes.”

Hisao coughed and watched as the eldar evaded the searing pain of plasma fueled vengeance, “I can recommend a place, if you like. Assault phase, melta vets are charging.”

“Over watch, and fail your damn Pinning Test this time.”

“I’ll do my best,” Hisao quipped.

“What day would we go? And don’t forget your Fear test.”

“Friday? I’ll have to work on that. And I gave the sergeant Zealot, remember?”

“Right, forgot. One hit with Overwatch.”

“Armor save… crap. Poor Jenkins. Rolling charge distance… I’m an inch short, aren’t I?”

Lynda used her tape measure to check the distance between Hisao’s melta vets and her hunkered eldar.

“…Yeah, just shy.”

“Stupid Imperial system,” Hisao grumbled.

Lynda grinned, “Oh the irony. Oh, and thanks. For the advice and help, not for failing your charge like bitches. Although I appreciate that, too.”

Hisao nodded and ended his turn. Lynda was preparing to unload a volley of sniper rounds into the plasma vets when the basement door opened and Hideaki’s head appeared.

“Dinner’ll be ready in a couple minutes,” he declared.

“What did Mr. Hakamichi make?” Hisao asked.

“Takoyaki and grilled salmon,” Hideaki replied, “He said my tako-less takoyaki was an insult to the family name, and the only way to regain our lost honor was for me to wax the SUV. Twice.”

“Well, I liked it, for what that’s worth,” Lynda declared.

Hideaki nodded once and retreated, closing the door as he left.

Hisao looked at Lynda, “To be continued?”

Lynda nodded, “Sure. Although as soon as you get in Assault I’m fucked.”

“Maybe, but I gotta get there first. While we’re up there I’ll see what I can do about the restaurant.”

“You don’t have to go to any trouble,” Lynda said.

“I know this town,” Hisao retorted.

“…Fair point. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Hisao said, and headed for the door.

+++
Next Chapter

Because I’m so much better at writing date scenes than gaming scenes…

I’m not sure if that was sarcasm or not. That’s how far gone I am.

Ah well.

[turbulentDuvet]

I started USM before I droppoed of the forum, just finished thus far of meet the Hakamichis... I have moar reading to do now ._.

And it is great to see you are still writing <3

[CoffeeDrive]

Who in their right mind plays Imperial Guard? Damn man, play Chaos, win everything.

[Hoitash]

I started USM before I droppoed of the forum, just finished thus far of meet the Hakamichis... I have moar reading to do now ._.

And it is great to see you are still writing <3

Thanks, glad you're enjoying the ride

I'm glad I'm still writing, too. Even if it can be a pain sometimes, it's part of who I am and what I do (seriously, it's on my business cards.)

Who in their right mind plays Imperial Guard? Damn man, play Chaos, win everything.

I play orks and Sisters of Battle, so I really have no ground to argue, except ALL THE TANKS.

Also, fuck tau. With all the tanks.

[Mirage_GSM]

Maybe, but I gotta get their first.

And you almost made it to the end of the chapter...

[Hoitash]

Maybe, but I gotta get their first.

And you almost made it to the end of the chapter...

D'Oh! So close, and yet so far.

Also fixed. Thanks, and sorry 'bout that.

[turbulentDuvet]

Thanks, glad you're enjoying the ride

I'm glad I'm still writing, too. Even if it can be a pain sometimes, it's part of who I am and what I do (seriously, it's on my business cards.)

I have been written by the writing bug after getting my evenings back, and as such have started reviving my fanfic 'Summer Break'

So you're a professional writer? That's so cool :O My dayjob is engineering, the tomes through which I peruse aren't exactly stimulating... I took up writing originally as something to liven up the day, bashing a few thousand hasty words at lunch and then spending an evening crafting them into beautiful prose ^^

[bhtooefr]

Maybe, but I gotta get their first.

And you almost made it to the end of the chapter...

Nope, you missed the "you're turn"s.

[Hoitash]

Maybe, but I gotta get their first.

And you almost made it to the end of the chapter...

Nope, you missed the "you're turn"s.

Whoops, was wondering about that.

Thanks for that

[SpcPotshot]

Well, I can see why Hisao lost (or close enough); he kept referring to his meltas by their proper name and used them against infantry. That's the 40k equivalent of breaking a mirror under a ladder in front of black cat.

[Hoitash]

Well, I can see why Hisao lost (or close enough); he kept referring to his meltas by their proper name and used them against infantry. That's the 40k equivalent of breaking a mirror under a ladder in front of black cat.

Well, it's not like there was a lot of vehicles on the board. Killteam has a 200 point limit.

Really he should've brought another squad of plasma vets, or if he had been able to wrangle the models a Chimera or some Sentinels.

Although for that matter, Lynda coulda brought Harlequin's with a Seer and royally screwed him up.

But as an ork player who has seen IG in melee, the idea that the fight hinged on a Strength 6 Powerfist is, too me, hilarious.

[Hoitash]

The threads of history span all generations and cultures. There’s an anthropological term called coeval that may or may not apply here, but regardless: stop! Chapter Time!

Previous Chapter

Chapter Nine: The Price of A Mile


Shizune and Misha headed into town after dinner, so Hisao and Lynde went to resume their game as planned. On their way to the basement, they ran across Mr. Hakamichi, who was staring intently at Lynda.

“Miss Long,” he grunted.

The two stopped in their tracks while Lynda replied –in Japanese, of course, “Yes, Sir?”

Mr. Hakamichi looked to Hisao, “Pay attention, you might need to translate something.”

Hisao nodded.

Mr. Hakamachi grunted to show his appreciation, before turning back to Lynda, “Nakai said you were planning on taking out Mikado on a… for the evening, this coming Friday. Correct?”

Not sure where the line of questioning was going, but fluent enough to have understood it, Lynda nodded and replied, “Yes, sir.”

“Nakai mentioned to you a place he could recommend?” Mr. Hakamichi continued.

“…He said he could recommend a place, but did not elaborate.”

“Typical.”

“No sense overloading her with information she might not need,” Hisao stated, “She’s on edge as it is.”

Mr. Hakamichi glared at Hisao for a moment. Hisao glared back. After a few moments of silent glaring that made Lynda want to slowly back out of the room, Mr. Hakamichi nodded once.

“True. Unfortunate, but true. In any case, I have the relevant information in my study, so if you would come along with me, I can arrange the reservation for you.”

“…Um… thank you? Sir?”

Mr. Hakamichi sighed and glared at Hisao again, “You didn’t even tell her I was the one who had recommended the place to you in the first place?”

Hisao smirked and replied, “Irrelevant. What mattered was that I knew a place where she could have a nice, relaxing evening with just her and her girlfriend. Who the source was didn’t matter.”

“…Come along, Long.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

“And do calm down,” Mr. Hakamichi said, “You are a guest, not some lowly peasant who has to grovel to avoid getting his head lopped off.”

Lynda glanced at the sheathed katana in Mr. Hakamichi’s hand and muttered, “Easier said than done.”

“I’ll be downstairs,” Hisao stated.

“I’ll be down in a bit,” Lynda replied. Leaning towards Hisao, she whispered, “If I don’t come back, tell Misha I love her.”

Hisao smirked and whispered back, “Trust me; if he wanted us dead, we’d be gone by now.”

By then Mr. Hakamichi had started marching towards the stairs, so Lynda followed, carefully staying a respectful pace behind as she followed the imposing man. He had a brisk pace and long strides, but Lynda didn’t have a problem keeping up with him. She silently followed him up the stairs to his study, which had a door that looked like all the others on the second floor. The door was closed, so Mr. Hakamichi swung it open and walked inside. Lynda paused for a moment, wondering if she should wait for an invitation to enter. Still in the hall, she settled for standing on the outside of the threshold.

Mr. Hakamichi’s study was clean to an almost disturbing level. The floor was carefully vacuumed, the many bookshelves neatly packed and ordered, and the cabinets carefully labeled. The desk, a massive piece of cherry wood that was three large pieces angled together in a partially enclosed square, facing towards the door, was carefully organized. An ancient, bulky computer sat next to an equally old printer connected to a scanner and a fax machine. An old landline corded phone was next to the fax.

A line of pencils, black pens, and red pens were next to the front portion of the desk along with a rolodex, while on the other side were several massive bound books of documents. The chair behind the desk was a simple brown leather that matched the wood. Two smaller chairs were on the other side of the desk. A large ceiling fan hung overhead, and was currently providing both lighting and a gentle breeze.

Mr. Hakamichi was intently flipping through the rolodex, his teeth clenched in a scowl as he searched. Lynda quietly stood in front of the threshold, occasionally smoothing out imaginary creases from her purple summer dress. Mr. Hakamichi must have caught her movements, because he looked up from the rolodex to look at Lynda.

“Come in,” he grunted.

Lynda nodded and took two steps inside the study. This allowed her to see the large glass case in the left corner. It was placed on top of a dark wooden dresser with two doors. Inside the glass case Lynda could see a well polished suit of samurai armor. On top of the case was a sheet of velvet cloth and a sword stand, which housed the smaller companion to the one Mr. Hakamichi had with him.

Mr. Hakamichi continued to flip through the rolodex until he found what he was looking for. Holding the relevant card with one hand, he used the other to pick up the old phone, which he placed firmly against his neck and shoulder before dialing.

“…Yes, I’d like to speak with the manager… Jigoro Hakamichi, I’m an old business associate… thank you… Hikky, it’s Jigoro… Yes, I was hoping you could arrange a reservation for me... this coming Friday… I know, that’s why I’m talking to you… it’s for a friend of my daughter’s… I knew you’d manage… What time? Six-thirty… really? Stop, the less I know, the better. Can you make it seven? Good, and make it worth the hassle of me having to call you myself. Exactly. Put it under Lynda Long… This young woman is… seeing my daughter’s closest friend, do you get my meaning? Good, I’m glad we still understand each other. No, that is all, but say hello to Umi for me. Goodbye.”

Mr. Hakamichi hung up the phone and sighed, “You leave for a few decades and everyone gets uppity. As if I still don’t know names,” Mr. Hakamichi turned to glare at Lynda, “Forget I just said that.”

Lynda nodded, and, trying to distract herself from the awkward situation, carefully looked around for something to focus her mind on. As it stood out from everything else, it wasn’t too surprising that she ended up focusing on the armor in the corner. By taking a tentative step forward and to the left, and tilting her head, she could even see the whole thing.

Though polished and clearly well cared for, the suit had definitely seen heavy use. The helmet was dented, several of the plates along the torso were scratched, and part of the right shoulder had a large chunk missing, in a jagged pattern Lynda suspected was from a musket ball.

While Lynda examined the armor, Mr. Hakamichi grabbed one of the pens on the desk and opened a drawer. He pulled out an index card and started scribbling on it. He filled out both sides before realizing he had written entirely in kanji. Growling at his mistake, he crumpled the card and tossed it at a basket in the corner. He repeated the process with a new card, which Lynda could see had English on it. When he was done, he capped the pen, put it back, and walked over to Lynda.

He held out the card for Lynda, who accepted it and looked it over. It was the name of a restaurant, an address, phone number, the information for the reservation, contact info for a taxi service, and a url for the restaurant’s website.

“This should cover everything,” Mr. Hakamichi said, “If you need anything else, let me know.”

Lynda stared at the card for moment and managed a muttered thanks and a bow.

Mr. Hakamichi grunted in reply, then glanced at the armor, “I saw you looking at it, by the way. Impressive, isn’t it?”

Lynda glanced at the armor again and nodded, “May I ask how long it has been in your family?”

“Nearly two hundred years,” Mr. Hakamichi replied, “Same with the swords.”

Lynda nodded and was about to turn to leave, but was reminded of something she had read, so instead she asked, “If I may, you mentioned in your autobiography that your fraternal grandfather fought in the war?”

Mr. Hakamichi raised an eyebrow, “You read my autobiography?”

Lynda nodded, “I like to be prepared.”

“Admirable. And yes, he did. He died at Guam. Why do you ask?”

“…At the risk of offending you, I’m surprised you still have both swords.”

Mr. Hakamichi stared at Lynda for a moment, and Lynda wondered if she might have hit a sore point concerning the family honor –for all she knew, the one he carried around was a reproduction, and the real family katana was on some veteran’s wall in a ranch house somewhere.

[Hoitash]

Part II:

But Mr. Hakamichi merely smirked and stated, “My grandfather was issued a sword when he received his commission, and felt it prudent to take it over the family heirloom. A wise choice, as it turned out.”

“Smart man,” Lynda remarked, though she hadn’t fully understood the reply, she had gotten the gist.

Mr. Hakamichi nodded, “Indeed. Did your grandfathers fight in the war?”

Lynda nodded, but paused, unsure if she could properly reply entirely in Japanese.

Seeing her hesitate, Mr. Hakamichi sighed and bellowed, “HIDEAKI!”

Less than a minute later, Hideaki’s head appeared in the threshold, “Yeah, Dad?”

“Get in here and translate for Long.”

“Okay,” Hideaki said.

Hideaki walked up next to Lynda and waited. Lynda raised an eyebrow, but finally responded to Mr. Hakamichi’s question.

“My mother’s grandfather was deployed to Belgium to bolster the Brits, and my fraternal grandfather died at Juno Beach during the Normandy Invasion. My stepfather’s father was part of the Sicily Invasion, and was seriously wounded there. As a result, he spent the rest of the war recuperating. Which seems to be a running theme with his family.”

“How so?” Mr. Hakamichi asked.

Lynda was a bit surprised by the question, but perhaps it was his way of trying to get some kind of connection. The flags were different, but a military heritage was something they both had in common.

Whether that was the case or not, Lynda really didn’t replying, and responded, “My stepfather’s family have served in the army since before the United States existed –You know I have dual citizenship with Canada and the US, right?”

Mr. Hakamichi nodded and waved for her to continue.

“Well, his family were originally Hessian mercenaries who settled down to farm after the Revolution, and ever since they’ve had a long military tradition. They also seem to get wounded a lot –shell shock, mustard gas, amputations…” Lynda repressed a sigh, “occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Naturally.”

Mr. Hakamichi gestured for Lynda to leave, and she once again bowed and turned around, Hideaki close behind. Mr. Hakamichi was about to follow them when the phone rang. Grumbling under his breath, he turned around and picked up the phone. Wondering if it was related to the reservation, Lynda went out into the hallway and sidled up to the wall by the doorway to listen in. With nothing better to do, Hideaki took up a position on the opposite side of the hall.

“Hakamichi residence, Jigoro speaking… He did something, didn’t he? He did what?! Does that inconsiderate farce of a father of yours ever think about the consequences of his actions? And he wonders why he’s not welcome here! It’s not your fault, although you’d be better off here than in a hotel… are you sure? Has Ikezawa been informed she was invited? Really? Unfortunate. Nothing else to do but salvage what we can, then. Oh, and try and grab the most expensive bottle of scotch from his liquor cabinet to bring with you. I’ll use it to light the hibachi…. Do you need me to send a car? Has your sister been notified? Good… understood. Goodbye.”

Mr. Hakamichi hung up with a hard clang and promptly shut the door of his study. Lynda stared at Hideaki, and, not wanting to let his father know they were still there, asked, [What was that about?]

[I’m not sure… wait, yes I am. My cousin was supposed to visit us in a couple weeks and bring her sister. Apparently there’s been a change of plans.]

[That’s awful sudden.]

[Uncle Hiro’s not one to mull things over very much. He acts first, never asks questions, and then does damage control.]

[Great, just when I thought things couldn’t get more tense around here.]

[Don’t worry,] Hideaki said, [Akira and Lilly are fine. It’s just their father who’s a gigantic jerkass.]

[Good to know, I guess.]

[…Shouldn’t you be meeting Hisao in the basement?]

[Shit, you’re right! And it sounds weird when you phrase it that way.]

Hideaki shrugged and wandered off downstairs. Since that was the direction she was going, Lynda took up pace beside him, mulling over her conversation –such that it was- with Mr. Hakamichi.

Apparently she looked deep in thought, because Hideaki, proving both disturbingly perceptive and mildly tactless as usual, asked, “Something on your mind?”

Lynda shrugged, “Just something I said to your Dad reminded me of something sucky.”

Hideaki nodded, “He can have that effect on people. Was it about you and Misha?”

“No, it was about my Dad,” Lynda said, “My stepdad, I mean. He was in the Army when my mom met him, and shortly after that he was deployed to Iraq. They kept sending him, tour after tour, so we barely saw him. And now that he’s finally back home, I’ve grown up, my stepbrother’s grown up, Mom lives in Vancouver, and Dad’s gonna move there too eventually… it seems like I was robbed of a father twice.”

“That is indeed sucky,” Hideaki declared.

Lynda snorted and stopped at the stairwell pivot. Hideaki stopped, too, blankly watching Lynda as she sighed.

“I don’t blame Dad; it’s not his fault,” Lynda stated, “and there’s not much I can do about it now, ‘cept be grateful the bomb didn’t kill him and he didn’t get redeployed to Afghanistan.”

Hideaki nodded sympathetically, even though he didn’t fully understand Lynda’s meaning.

Lynda sighed and shook her head, causing her long black hair to slap Hideaki in the face.

“Sorry,” Lynda said, “Trying to shake some sense into myself.”

“Did it work?”

“Maybe,” Lynda stated, “Thanks for listening to my bullshit again. You are freakishly good at getting me to spill my guts.”

Hideaki shrugged, “I listen. I don’t judge. I’m like a puppy that eats bagel bites and cheetos instead of dog food.”

Lynda snorted and patted Hideaki’s head, “Well, you’re a good boy, Hideaki.”

Hideaki sighed, and, when Lynda had removed her hand, declared, “I don’t fully understand your family dynamic –any more than you do mine- but at the end of the day, there’s not a lot we can do but go with the flow. We may sometimes get to choose our course, but, in the end, we are merely leaves on the wind.”

“…Is there a picture in the attic of you getting older?” Lynda asked, “Or did you just spend all your free time as a child listening to the crazy old man down the street?”

“It’s the janitor at the convenience store, actually,” Hideaki replied, “Goes by the name of Bucky, for some reason. Lousy golf player.”

“Huh,” Lynda grunted, “Oh, can you do me a favor and tell Hisao I’m on my way? There’s something I wanna do that might take a few minutes.”

Hideaki nodded and headed downstairs. Lynda bolted upstairs to the guest room, where she quickly pulled her cell phone from her purse. After using an app to check the time zone conversion, she hit the speed dial, sat on the edge of the bed, and waited.

“…Hey Will, it’s Lynda. I know it’s kinda early, but is Dad there? I really wanna talk to him. Thanks….”

+++
Next Chapter

Math time! Er, sorta.

Jigoro states in Shizune’s route that he’s 46. Presuming he said this in 2007, that would mean he was born around 1961. Also presuming that conservative cultures tend to marry young and have children young (like Mormons, I guess) it would be unlikely that Jigoro’s father would have served in World War II.

HOWEVER.

It is entirely possible that Jigoro’s grandfather –probably both- were old enough to not only serve, but to have done so while having already sired their children –or at least a child.

Furthermore, considering he keeps waving the blasted thing around, it’s also possible the Hakamichis are descended from a samurai family who managed to not lose their money during the waning years of the Shogunate. Or their just posers who picked the right side during the Imperial Era.

Either way, I have put far too much thought into the lineage of a fictional character and whether or not his grandfather was shot to ribbons by a BAR while leading a Banzai Charge (which is probably how most of Kenji’s family died in the Master Detectives universe.)

Also, I’m going to Gen Con (because money is for losers) so not only may next week’s chapter be delayed, but I might not be able to skitter off to the computer lab/borrow a laptop to check the threads. Rest assured that if anything happens to me, I have arranged for Helbereth to receive my hard drive, so he may continue where we left off.

[Mirage_GSM]

Dad’s gonna move their too eventually

It's not me/I this time. Progress?

Lynda snorted and part Hideaki’s head

patted?

Rest assured that if anything happens to me, I have arranged for Helbereth to receive my hard drive, so he may continue where we left off.

That is comforting at least.
Nice chapter. Setting up a huge CF for future chapters I see...

[Hoitash]

Dad’s gonna move their too eventually

It's not me/I this time. Progress?

Here's hoping, though normally I catch those.

Lynda snorted and part Hideaki’s head

patted?

Indeed. It's been an odd weekend.

Rest assured that if anything happens to me, I have arranged for Helbereth to receive my hard drive, so he may continue where we left off.

That is comforting at least.

Even if I'm not alive to witness it, I shall take comfort in seeing our works released to the world at large.

Nice chapter. Setting up a huge CF for future chapters I see...

You meant a cluster-fuck, right?

We shall see. Time is a mysterious thing, but, then again, it also makes fools of all men.