Hisao and Kenji: Masterful One Shots! Winter Update!

[Hoitash]

Part III:

Quelling the foreboding sensation building in the pit of my stomach, I grabbed the pruning shears and left the garage, my fellow exterminators right behind me.

“Soon-hee,” I said, “are you sure you're okay helping us with this?”

“I am,” she said, “they’re just bugs, after all. Well, insects. Large insects with stingers that can fly. But we’re in the suits, so we’ll be fine.”

“Damn right!” Kenji cheered.

We all paused as we neared the awaiting nest, the hornets buzzing to and fro, stupidly large and angry looking. Seriously, there should be a rule about an insect being an apex predator.

“Kenji,” I said, my eyes on the nest as I asked, “You’re sure these suits are thick enough, right?”

“I am,” he replied, “Now man up and get in position.”

Rolling my eyes, I shuffled into place under the nest, where hornets the size of squirrels buzzed to and fro about their daemonic bullshit.

Never before had I wanted a flamethrower as much as I did in that moment. As all I had was a pair of shears, though, so I readied them as per Kenji’s plan. Kenji, meanwhile, bug bomb in one hand and detonator in the other, watched as Soon-hee opened the big garbage bag and positioned herself under the nest.

“Do we have a plan if the nest doesn’t land in the bag?” I asked.

“Set off the bomb and run for the garage.”

“Do we have a plan that doesn’t get me arrested?”

“Are you gonna nitpick or are you gonna get ready to snip?”

“I am perfectly capable of doing both.”

“The hornets are bigger than I thought they’d be,” was Soon-hee’s contribution to our banter.

Trying to ignore the increasingly angry drone of the oversized insects, I opened the shears at the appropriate branch. For the moment, they ignored us, fortunately.

“We got one shot at this,” I warned, “if I don’t pull off a clean but they’re gonna attack before we can toss ‘em in the bag.”

“I know, man,” Kenji said, “now get ready to snip in three… two… NOW!”

I squeezed the two handles with all my medically inhibited might. The sturdy branch gave way and fell into the bag with a disturbing smacking sound. Kenji spiked the bug bomb into the bag and Soon-hee closed it with her hands, holding it tight as Kenji triumphantly pushed the button.

Nothing happened.

Kenji pushed the button again. Nothing happened again. Like Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight, he proceeded to mash the detonation button as if he was playing a fighting game using an overpowered secondary attack.

“Kenji,” I said to get him to stop, “what was supposed to happen?”

I could imagine him glowering at the button as he replied, “The bug bomb shoulda gone off and choked those hornets in glorious chemical death!”

“And what actually happened?”

Finally giving up on the button, Kenji turned to me in his suit and said, “Jack-shit, that’s what.”

“So what does that mean?”

“I need to stop buying shit from Russia.”

“Besides that?” I prompted.

“Um,” in lieu of raising her hand, because they were the only thing holding the bag of by now no doubt blood enraged hornets, Soon-hee spoke up to get our attention, “it means I’m holding a bag of giant hornets that are probably incredibly upset?”

“Exactly,” I replied, “so then, Kenji, do we have a Plan B?”

“Um,” Soon-hee spoke up again, “If we can tie the bag closed, I can smash the nest with a hammer, or something equally large and useful for smashing.”

Kenji turned and pointed to what he probably thought was my house, “To the garage!”

Well, at least we wouldn’t make a mess.

“I’m sure Hana has some spare wire lying around,” I said, “and I think we have a sledgehammer somewhere.”

“I’m not picky,” Soon-hee said,” as long as it smashes.”

With Plan B planned, we proceeded to the garage, the only thing between us and hornet catastrophe a thin layer of plastic. As for those stuck out of the nest, they’d disperse eventually, and if not, I still had my sprayer. Suppressing the thought of what would happen if the bastards got loose, I shuffled ahead to try and find some wire, or a very large twist tie.

I found metal chains and snapped engine belts.

I sighed as I looked for a belt long enough to do the job, “Why does she keep these?”

“Did you find something?” Kenji asked.

I turned to face the two as they entered the garage, “Yeah, I found some old engine belts or something. That should do the trick.”

“How about a hammer?”

“That’s next,” I said, “Let me tie up the bag before the things get loose.”

I heard Kenji snort from within his suit, “I told you man, it’s gonna take more than some bugs to tear that bag.”

Tying up the bag with some broken belts, I retorted, “You also said your bug bomb would work.”

“That was the Russian’s fault!”

“There’s a hammer over there,” Soon-hee said, pointing, “Should I smash the bomb too?”

I turned from Kenji to address the girl, “Yes. There’s a chance it’ll explode, so after you take it out, hit the nest too, just in case.”

“Got it,” she said, and headed to the hammer.

Kenji sighed and watched her as best he could, “She is enjoying this a bit too much.”

“Everyone needs a hobby,” I said, “and she never gets to use her weapon training… why am I the one advocating your child’s desire to smash things?”

Kenji turned to me in his suit, “Huh… that is a good question. Must be a parent thing.”

Before I could respond to that, Soon-hee returned with what looked to be a 40 lbs sledge. Before I could question why we owned such a heavy tool –or how my wife could lift it for that matter- Soon-hee hefted the hammer and brought it down on the bomb.

I chose to attribute her exuberance to thoroughness. Also, Kenji’s bomb was so horribly constructed the gas didn’t even puff out. Kenji’s reaction to that revelation was so loud and creatively profane I wanted to cover Soon-hee’s ears.

At the end of it, though, the nest was destroyed, Hana’s karma was fine, Soon-hee got to smash something and eat cookies, Kenji learned never to buy anything made in Russia, and I learned never to let Kenji try and make pest control equipment.

I’ve had weirder summer experiences, so all in all that one was a resounding success.

+++

Fuck Japanese hornets.

I don’t mess around with insects the size of birds. That’s just tempting evolution right there.

Oh, and happy summer!

/smokebomb

[Mirage_GSM]

save me hundreds of dollars a year?

Does he send his car to the states to have it fixed?

“are you sure your okay helping us with this?”

You're

Hanako is overreacting a bit here, but hey, it's one of your stories, so par for the course, eh?
Also we get more Son-hee which excuses a lot

[Hoitash]

save me hundreds of dollars a year?

Does he send his car to the states to have it fixed?

...This is what happens when I'm out of practice, apparently.

Fixed.

“are you sure your okay helping us with this?”

You're

Also fixed.

Hanako is overreacting a bit here, but hey, it's one of your stories, so par for the course, eh?
Also we get more Son-hee which excuses a lot

I figure Hanako has a strong maternal instinct.

Also glad I can still count on my Number 1 Soon-hee/Hee-chan/Sonny/Muscles/Heeneesan fan

Geez, girl has more nicknames than I do.

[Hoitash]

Well, my liver hasn’t failed yet, so let’s get this done.

Ilya, push the button!


Insert Obvious Joke Here- A Soon-hee Winter Special


One winter evening, after spending too much time in the library, I walked back to the dorms. A fair bit of snow rested on the ground, and was still falling as I left the warmth of the main building for the chilly December air. Darkness settled over the land, the lamps above the walkways illuminating the snow and causing the falling flakes to sparkle.

I wouldn’t be staying at Yamaku for Christmas break, but I was there for a few days after exams. Miya had a deadline on a big job and Kenji was wrapping up a case, so for a little while I remained at the school with the handful of remaining students.

I’ll admit I missed my effectively adoptive parents, knowing they’d be picking me up, but not yet. Most of my friends at school had left by then, but as long as the pool and library remained open, I’d be okay.

Besides, I liked the dark, and so far, I liked winter, too. I wasn’t too fond of the cold, though, and being as small as I was did not help with that. The snow made up for that, though. I liked snow. I couldn’t really say why, except for the same reason that I liked stars: it was pretty.

For that reason, I took my time getting back to the dorm despite the cold. The mountain breeze stung the small part of my face not protected by my scarf and made me glad I thought to put on some goggles. Excessive, maybe, but when your guardian is motherfucking Kenji, you tend to be a bit over-prepared.

As I walked along the path back to the dorm, I noticed something moving in the snow. I immediately froze, focusing on the movement as the hairs on my neck tingled in anticipation of flight or fight. I relaxed after I realized the movement involved a student making a snow angel.

Apparently the student noticed me, because they ceased their efforts, hefted themselves up, and started walking towards me. Thanks to the light from a nearby lamppost, I recognized them once they entered conversation distance.

“Hello, Sempai,” I greeted.

Aya Nakajima, one of my dormitory hallmates, most of her features covered in clothing, smiled at me as she entered the light. Of average height –so naturally a few centimeters taller than me- her earlier activity meant most of her clothes held a dusting of snow.

“Hello, Sonny,” she greeted, using the nickname Setsuko came up with, “coming back from the library?”

I nodded from behind my scarf, lowering it so I could properly talk to her, “Yeah, I ended up doing another Wiki Walk on the computer. Are you staying here over the break?”

“Not entirely, God willing.” She crossed herself and asked, “How about you?”

“If all goes well I should get picked up in a day or two.”

The conversation died off there, leaving us awkwardly standing in the winter air. Nakajima’s hands were shaking despite her thick gloves, and I struggled to find a conversation topic to keep the flow.

Suppressing a sigh, I settled on the obvious, “Were you making snow angels?”

She nodded, grimacing slightly as she explained, “Yeah. I wanted to make a snowman, but my hands are shaking so bad today I can’t really use them.”

“Oh,” I said, “I’ve never done that –make a snowman, I mean.”

“Huh,” she grunted, “that’s a shame.”

Nakajima glanced behind us, to the field of snow, largely undisturbed thanks to the lack of students. Turning back to me, she grinned, and I had a sneaking suspicion of what she was going to ask.

“Do you wanna build-” she started singing in English.

I raised a hand. “Please don’t. My little brother loves Disney movies.”

Nakajima smirked at me. “Fair enough. But do you?”

I glanced at the field of snow, intrigued. I’ve never been big on making things, but the chance to do something I never have before did get my attention. It was also a chance to do something with the third year, who despite her extroverted nature lived a somewhat hermitic lifestyle like myself. Like calling to like, I guess.

So in the end I nodded and said, “Sure. Western or Japanese style?”

“Japanese would be easier,” she replied, “the real question is if the snow will pack right or not.”

I looked over the field of snow, as if just looking at it would answer her question. Since it wouldn’t, I reached down and grabbed a handful in an effort to pack it into something resembling a ball.

“Seems sticky enough,” I remarked.

Nakajima closely examined the ball of snow in my hand. Giving it a careful poke, she tilted her head like a bird and muttered, “Didn’t hold when I tried earlier.”

“Sorry.”

The third-year smiled at me. “For what? You got way better arm strength than I do. So let’s get building before you get too cold.”

I found myself returning her smile as I went to work. Well, I said work, but rolling two balls and plopping one on top of the other didn’t strike me as that difficult. Then again, I failed to account for the fact that my hands are best used for throwing people twice my weight and eating cookies, and not molding snow.

“Huh,” I grunted, “making proper spheres is trickier than I thought.”

Nakajima examined the large ball of snow I’d rolled into creation. “Looks fine to me.”

I quirked an eyebrow at the oddly shaped lump. “Really?”

The third-year smiled and nodded, “Yep! Why complicate something like snow with geometry? We’re not alchemists.”

“Those were circles, but same idea. Either way we just need a head.”

She nodded and started examining the surrounding snow. The wistfulness in her eyes got me thinking.

“You should do the head,” I said.

The third-year looked back to me, then her hands, which shivered slightly as she eyed them, “I’m not sure I could, honestly.”

“I’ll help,” I told her, “I do that sort of thing in Judo club with stance adjustments.”

Nakajima blinked at me a few times. “Well… if you’re willing.”

Honestly I had my reservations, but it was something I’d have to get used to anyway if I wanted to be a physical therapist, and I did help the club members sometimes, so it shouldn’t be weird.

I was wrong. It was weird, and not in some yuri slash-fic sort of way; Nakajima’s coat was puffier than I thought, which made keeping close harder than I expected. Still, her hands weren’t shaking anymore, just shivering like she’d been lifting for too long. Guiding them to grab and pat the snow proved pretty easy itself.

“Thanks for the help,” she said, “you’re more dexterous than you give yourself credit for.”

“You’re doing the real work,” I replied, “I’m just holding the ladder, so to speak.”

Nakajima giggled lightly at that, “Well, you’re very good at it.”

“Thanks. Do you think it’s the right size?”

The third-year took a moment to examine the ball of snow in our hands before nodding.

“I think so.”

“Can you put it on top?”

She nodded, and I stepped back so she could stick the head onto the snowman. Her hands seemed pretty steady by then, and she managed to plop the smaller blob of snow in place easy enough. That done, she took a step back, and I sidled next to her to eye our creation.

“It needs a face,” she declared.

I watched as Nakajima reached into her coat and pulled out two small black stones and a piece of black chalk.

Holding her hand toward me, she said, “You’re turn.”

I blinked at the offered items before accepting them. Walking up to the snowman, which stood a couple heads shorter than me, I carefully set the little black stones –which were actually glass- for eyes and the chalk for a nose. For completeness I sketched a smile on its face with a finger.

Taking a step back, I mused aloud, “Think he needs arms?”

She shook her head, “I think its fine.”

I found myself agreeing. Though slightly lopsided, the snowman seemed content as he was. He was smiling, after all.

“We should probably get inside,” I remarked.

“Yeah, I could use a cup of tea.”

“I… have tea in my room,” I offered, “and cookies.”

Nakajima turned to me, tilting her head slightly. I’d never invited her to my room before, but considering the whole building a snowman thing together, I figured it a good way to wrap things up for the day.

Besides, my room was closer, and I said as much, which earned me a small smile.

“We’re in the same hall, but alright. Thank you for the hospitality.”

“Thanks for the snowman. Oh,” I pulled out my phone and took a quick picture of the snowman to send to Kenji and Miya-san.

That done, we left the grounds to go back inside, get warm, and have something hot to drink.

+++

I regret nothing.

Merry Christmas, Happy Belated Hanukkah, and Happy New Year!