Asoko Desu's one-shots and short pieces ( December 01 / 2024 – "When it Swims it Rains")

[Asoko_Desu]

Story Title: Noughts and Crosses (complete)
Author: Asoko_Desu
Type: Side-Story - part of "Adventures in the 'Emiverse'"
Status: One in a series
PoV-character: Rin’s parents - Mr. and Mrs. Tezuka
Pairings: Rin x Tetsu
Begins: After Home Phone for Sweetie
Warnings: Painfully homey
Remarks: An exercise in omote and ura

December 15, 2007 — Saturday


After a bit, Mrs. Tezuka hung up the phone. She looked at the receiver with a thoughtful expression, then went to bring Mr. Tezuka his lunch. She mulled over how to discuss the call with him.

She decided some things were better left discussed later - if ever. Other things were best handled strategically, as always.

—

“I've got news - guess.”

“Mmm .. Gojira rose from the ocean and made a snack of the reactor at Fukushima?”

“Not nearly so commonplace - I talked to Rin today”

“That’s a first!”

“Hardly - though it is rare enough. Speaking of which - she’s in a relationship now.”

“You don’t say! Well, she’s at that age - I guess the time was going to come eventually.”

“And I’m going to tell her to bring her partner along for New Year’s if they’re not going home themselves for the holidays.”



“You’re going to ask me to talk to them aren’t you?”



“Please? If not for me, for Rin?”

“Fine. I’ll do my `thing`; if they can handle Rin they can survive me being a bit `out there`.”

“Thank you. I do wish you would be a little more engaging - you are quite charming you know ..”

“We’ve been over this - nobody wants to see me have a panic attack, especially me - and strangers affect me that way, especially if I’m cooped up with them in close quarters.”

“I do wish you’d see a specialist about that.”

“Last time I did they just gave me pills for it - totally demolished my inspiration, and my motivation to work,” he said testily. “I don’t trust `ists` in general, and I don’t trust doctors in specific. Best just to withdraw,” he said with an air of finality.

“Well, if it has to be that way then fine. Just promise me you’ll say a few words to the boy?”

“A boy is it? I wouldn’t have expected something so .. conventional from her.”

“And I didn’t expect anything so conventional from you, and yet - here we are.”

“Here we are indeed; and yes, I promise, there will be a few words. How did they meet?”

“At school I take it - also, he’s not from Japan.”

“An exchange student? That’s so like how we met - how romantic!”

“I expect we’ll get the full story from Rin once she arrives - as full a story as Rin is likely to give us.”


“Takes after her old man that one.”

Mrs. Tezuka held her tongue - Rin could stand to take after her father’s cryptic, idiosyncratic ways a little less in her mother’s opinion, but she loved her husband too much to say so, and to say so would have just hurt his feelings - then he’d disappear into his shop for a week, leaving her to worry over whether he’d ever come out.

“I knew what I was getting myself into, I suppose,” thought Mrs. Tezuka to herself, recalling how long it’d taken Mr. Tezuka to start to open up to her - and this was after they’d been dating for quite a while.

“Is Sana coming this year?”

“We haven’t said anything lately to set her off so .. maybe? I’ll call her to confirm.”

“That would be best - I tend to .. agitate her - not sure why,” Mr. Tezuka mused.

“Well, last time you talked, you asked her to `try not to be such a pill`, which she was being, but that level of honesty is something one does not appreciate hearing from one’s parents - at least Sana didn’t,” - a reflection Mrs. Tezuka kept resolutely to herself.

“Well, whatever - it’s fine; I’ll talk to her. Now eat your lunch - it’s getting cold!”


fin

--

[Sharp-O]

Infinitely More Than We Can Ask or Imagine

Oh, I like this. This is my kind of wacky nonsense. Great job, Asoko!

[Asoko_Desu]

Thank you! It was fun to write - glad you enjoyed it!

Speaking of, I've been reading Flutter and very much enjoying it - your style of writing is drastically different from mine and it's refreshing. Waiting until I get caught up before commenting, but that might take a while

--

[Sharp-O]

Thank you! It was fun to write - glad you enjoyed it!

I really like these kinds of one-shot's that recontextualise KS into a different kind of space. My version of this kind of story is Lost & Found, a future with AI.

Speaking of, I've been reading Flutter and very much enjoying it - your style of writing is drastically different from mine and it's refreshing. Waiting until I get caught up before commenting, but that might take a while

Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying it!

[Asoko_Desu]

That was nice - too bad the image it links to is mssing. I think I see what you mean by ‘recontextualise KS into a different kind of space’ though .. and now I have a lot more one-shots to read!

Not entirely in the same vein, but you might enjoy Dust Bath. It recontextualizes the characters, but not by changing the setting - it tries to recontextualise by changing our understanding of what's driving the characters' words.

Trying to figure out why characters say what their say and do what they do is very much my ‘thing’ (I hear that’s also how some actors get into a role), although it's not to everyone's taste as a writing style -- that and extending a situation to it’s extreme logical conclusion (although I suspect I’ve rather badly, albeit unintentionally, hurt some people’s feelings doing the latter on at least one occasion.)

--

[Sharp-O]

Trying to figure out why characters say what their say and do what they do is very much my ‘thing’ (I hear that’s also how some actors get into a role), although it's not to everyone's taste as a writing style -- that and extending a situation to it’s extreme logical conclusion (although I suspect I’ve rather badly, albeit unintentionally, hurt some people’s feelings doing the latter on at least one occasion.)

I've certainly upset the apple cart here with some of my characterisation choices but I think/hope they make a certain amount of sense given context. Dust Bath is interesting, I did like the visual of Rin's mind being a series of drawers with timers she always means to come back to.

[Asoko_Desu]

I've certainly upset the apple cart here with some of my characterisation choices but I think/hope they make a certain amount of sense given context. Dust Bath is interesting, I did like the visual of Rin's mind being a series of drawers with timers she always means to come back to.

Aye - that's the thing; is a plot / plot element gratuitous or is it justifiable?

Some of the most moving art I've read here has had an unhappy ending and totally made sense (there's one - I forget the name - which really got to me: Miki overhears Nurse encouraging Emi to coach Hisao into running. Miki swans in, hijacks the timeline, and things go poorly for everyone involved - *oof* [ed: found it - brythain's Singlehanded]. There's another one where Emi and Hisao break up; Miki (why is she always the bad guy?) takes Emi's place and Emi has .. regrets.) [ed: can't find the second one, but Decaying_Orbital's Dead Heat also falls into this category.]

The game itself has good, bad, and neutral endings - why shouldn't fiction based on it?

re: drawers and timers - don't know where I got the idea, but she seems a visual person so a mostly visual metaphor for how she remembered things seemed apt

[ Apropos of nothing, when people's posts are commented on they get notified - is there a way to notify people if you mention them in another thread? Something like `@so-and-so`? ]


--

[Asoko_Desu]

Story Title: Shake, Shake, Shake
Author: Asoko_Desu
Type: Side-Story - part of "Adventures in the 'Emiverse'"
Status: One in a series
PoV-character: Hisao
Pairings: Rin x Tetsu
Begins: After Mama Bears
Warnings: Silly, but no one can be unhappy all the time, one hopes.
Remarks: What the weird do when they have fun.
Word Count: 1,204


January 11, 2008 — Friday evening

The early evening light coloured Hisao’s room with deep blue outside of the circle of warmer light cast by his desk lamp.

He gave up - this physics problem wasn’t going to solve itself and there was no way he was going to solve it with that - whatever it was - banging in the background; a rhythmic thumping that seemed to come from all corners of his room.

Breaking the problem of finding the source of the sound down as Mutou-sensei had taught him, he formed the hypothesis that since it wasn’t coming from inside his room, it had to be coming from outside.

“That still leaves a lot of ground to cover ..” he said mostly to himself, sticking his head out the door to be confronted with a heady whiff of garlic from his neighbour across the hall, also sticking his head of of his door.

“Kenji - do you ever brush your teeth?”

“And lose all the flavour of lunch? You have to be kidding me - this way I stretch my yen to the max! Are you the source of that infernal noise? It’s louder here than in my room - must be coming from your room,” Kenji breathed.

Hisao considered his hypothesis while waiting for his eyes to stop watering - the sound wasn’t coming from his room and it wasn’t coming from Kenji’s.

Uninterested in debating Kenji - at least without a gas mask on - Hisao looked down the hall to the common room - “Definitely quieter there,” he observed.

“That’s two down - next step in the hypothesis is ..” he turned to look down the hall to where Tetsu’s door was open and the sound was definitely much louder.

“Cogito ergo it’s coming from Tetsu’s room - it’s possible it may be music.”

“Augh! The music of the Ogres! To hear it means being trapped in their realm!”

Kenji snapped his fingers to ward off evil spirits and slammed his door shut - the clicking of manifold locks followed behind it.

“Actually I think it’s just Disco ..”

Obviously Kenji couldn’t be counted on as backup in this situation; the prospect of running into Tetsu generally galvanized Kenji into action, if by action one meant exiting stage left, spurred by fear of the supernatural.

With nothing to be done but to ask Tetsu to turn it down, Hisao made his way down the hall to Tetsu’s room.

Hisao prepared to knock on Tetsu’s door frame, as the door was already open - not that knocking would have done much good; Tetsu had set up a series of speakers in his room - more a pile of speakers, as many didn’t have cabinets as those that did - and they shook the floor and walls with their vibration.

In the centre of it all was Rin dancing to some oddly compelling song in English; Hisao was struck dumb - he gave his head a shake to regain his voice.


“Tetsu? Tetsu!”

“Hey Hisao - What’s good?” Tetsu yelled over the music.

“That’s Tetsu for you.” Hisao reflected - he didn’t say much, but when he did you never knew what it was going to be, or whether it would make sense. Not as opaque as Rin, but all the more frustrating because it sounded like it should make sense - like badly translated Japanese - but never did - as opposed to Rin’s signature word-salads.

“Music is good, I guess, but not so loud please - I’m trying to do this week’s problem set for Mutou; I’m stuck on the third problem and I can’t concentrate.”

“Hisao -” declared Rin - “You should be dancing!” Another song came on and Tetsu took his turn in the confined space. “Shame on you if you can’t dance too.”

“`Dance` - I guess that’s the right word,” thought Hisao to himself, watching Tetsu nimbly avoid knocking furniture into the walls, all the while flapping his arms in time to the music - or at least Hisao had no better word for what Tetsu was doing.

Rin called to him - “Come on Hisao - Get up and boogie!”

“`Boogie`?” Hisao turned the English word over in his head - it sounded weird, even for English. “Is that what you’re doing? Boogie-ing?”

“That’s Right!” Answered Tetsu, a little too enthusiastically.

“Hisao - you’re hogging the view; let a lady pass.”

“Oh, hi Miki - are you familiar with this important cultural event of `The Boogie`?”

“Oh, you know ..” Miki gently hip-checked Hisao - “I’ve boogied once or twice.”

At this Hisao felt a sweat break out on his brow - best to avoid that line of thought if he didn’t want Emi to spot his unease when - and not if - she asked him if he’d been a good boy this week. Of course - sometimes it was more fun when he hadn’t been .. which made him sweat more still.

“Who’s thinking naughty thoughts? Don’t think I can’t spot that guilty look - I’m telling Emi ..” Miki said in a sly tone, observing Hisao’s barely restrained distress.

“Hisao’s thinking naughty thoughts? Tell!”

“Later - it’s your turn,” and Tetsu pulled Rin back into his room as the next track on Tetsu’s laptop started. What Rin lacked in hand jive she more than made up for with jumps, kicks, twirls, and combinations of the three. How she avoided knocking Tetsu’s laptop across the room Hisao couldn’t tell, but she seemed to know what she was doing.

Tetsu got up at the end of the song - “OK - I guess we’ve had our fun.”

Switching off the music app, Tetsu picked Rin up and, with a hand on her midriff, held her over his head - her arms outstretched like she was flying.


“Having fun, Squish?” asked Tetsu, to which Rin nodded enthusiastically.

“Good thing we don’t have ceiling lamps here ..” Hisao opined to himself.

“Who’s showing off her core work?” Miki asked, in mock exasperation.

“Me?” Tetsu lowered Rin into a hug as she wrapped her legs about his torso.

“This would be more fun if we weren’t wearing clothes,” she observed, seriously.

“Well - that’s my cue to leave!” Mission accomplished, Hisao went back to take another crack at his particularly intractable set of physics problems.

“Hisao!” Tetsu shouted down the hall after him, sticking his head out the door - Rin having migrated around to Tetsu’s back.

“The third question - it’s an angled track; you need to break gravity down into vectors to get the normal force. Without that you can’t figure out the drag on the cart.”

Plugging in the numbers, Hisao was taken aback - “What the actual fuck .. it works. How did he figure that out?”

Miki stuck her head in Hisao’s door — “We’re going for dinner Mister Spock - you coming?”

“Sure, why not ..” Hisao thought he might also pick Tetsu’s brain about Newtonian mechanics - “I think he said his old school was a bit ahead of ours in their science curriculum; he’s certainly comfortable with coefficients of friction.”

Hisao pulled on his jacket and took off down the hall after the other three, Rin having moved on to Tetsu’s shoulders, dancing in place with her legs crossed over his chest.

“She sure can shake her booty .. dammit - bad thoughts!” Emi was really going to tan his hide for that one .. ah well - “Sufficient unto the day the evil thereof,” thought Hisao as the elevator doors closed.


fin

[Asoko_Desu]

Story Title: When it Swims it Rains
Author: Asoko_Desu
Status: Complete
Word count: 944
Post Date: 2024/12/01
Begins: Before Bundle of Hisao – decades before
Warnings: A monologue, mostly.

–

I stayed way past closing. We talked into the night – he gave me one of his carvings and I gave him my number.

The carving was the body of a fish, shaped like the petals of an orchid – delicate and translucent, joined in one subtle location. It could have been leaves of paper joined together in one place like a butterfly’s wings, but had been carved from a single piece of wood. I carried it back to my apartment in cupped hands, worried that the slightest gust would carry it away.

“When it swims, it rains.” he’d said.

I hung it up in my window – I didn’t understand what he meant until one day when the rains were due to come, its little wooden body - sides carved impossibly thin - started to gently warp and twist in the breeze and the changing humidity, swimming in the air like bonito flakes on takoyaki.

The next day a monsoon lashed Osaka.

All of his works were like that - alive in some way or other, or seemingly so. I’ve never figured out how he does it – he’s never let me into that part of his workshop.

––

We met by chance. He was having an art showing at a gallery next to a hole in the wall sushi bar that I was supposed to be meeting friends at – friends who stood me up, but that turned out to be for the best.

I wandered next door to his showing and, after a glass of wine or two, introduced myself as I expected people do at such events – which I’ve learned they almost never do; people show up with their friends and talk amongst themselves. The artist talks to their friends - if any show up - or talks to no one and stands around looking .. artistic, I guess.

He was handsome, if underfed - his clothes rumpled; he looked like he needed someone to look after him which flipped the switch on a nurturing instinct I hadn’t known I’d had.

I’d never heard of him of course, being from North America. I found out through friends, later, that he was something of a thing – new, but already known in the Japanese art world; a young prodigy.

None of this mattered to him of course – he just wanted to carve living things out of their hiding places in wood.

He’d spend hours in dusty supply warehouses turning timber blanks over in his hands, infinitely patient stockists standing just out of distraction range in an oh-so Japanese way, as he’d try to divine which piece of raw wood contained a spirit waiting to be released.

He was handsome, hated doing showings and, maybe, with the right person at his side to handle the more mundane matters of life, could be impressively successful.

I didn’t have ambitions for him so much as I felt the world needed to experience his art and together we could make that happen. Almost as soon as we started dating I started handling his gallery itinerary and, with incredibly rudimentary Japanese plus a very North-American smile, made it happen. He was more than happy to wash his hands of logistics, which he considered so mundane as to border on torture.

Perhaps the oddity - uniqueness - of us as a couple was a draw; a slight, shy, Japanese woodcarver, and his vivacious, outgoing (I like to think!) red-headed (more white now) North American girlfriend.

Before long a baby was on the way, but that didn’t hold us back.

Sana was born - I named her, in a portmanteau of my name, Anna, and something vaguely Japanese sounding. We brought her with us on trains across the country; her strapped to my front in a papoose, and suitcases on wheels - filled with styrofoam-packed impossibly delicate wood carvings - pulled behind us.

––

When Sana was four I was pregnant again.

I’d been feeling quite ill - the nausea was overwhelming and wouldn’t go away so the doctors prescribed something strong for it.

I’d been spotting heavily so I hadn’t suspected I was pregnant - over the counter pregnancy tests weren’t super available in Japan back then and we were on the road constantly anyhow so we didn’t give it much thought but, before we knew it, I’d started to show.

By then the damage - if you choose to call it that - had been done.

An ultrasound showed some .. abnormalities. It was highly likely the baby would be born with issues, but it would survive if we let it.

–

“She will be beautiful” Chihiro said.

“But crippled.”

“Special. She will be special, and beautiful.”

–

I’d felt that ‘Special’ was a euphemism, especially given Japan’s focus on uniformity and perfection, but the way Chihiro said it – he already loved her completely.

If Sana was disappointed by the prospect of no longer being an only child she didn’t show it - she was always a dutiful daughter.

–

“She’ll be different from the other children,” Sana observed.

“Yes - that’s what ‘special’ means.”

Chihiro never saw her as anything less than special – or beautiful – and was poetically pragmatic about the life she’d have.

“But how will she feed herself?”

“Like all other babies feed themselves - just like you did. Later, she’ll fend for herself on her own terms.”

“But she can’t ..”

“She’ll find her way – we all have to.”

––

And when she arrived she was beautiful. And, as it turned out, as gifted as her father, although, perhaps, in a slightly different direction.

“What shall we name her? I chose Sana’s name – it’s your turn.”

“Rin.”

–