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Part III:

“We’re lost,” Kwan declared half an hour later.

I looked up from my book to examine the scenery. We had abandoned the restaurants, hotels, and gas stations of the highway’s exit and found ourselves in what looked like farm land. Fields of grass and various vegetables were spread out as far as I could see, except behind us, where I could just make out the edge of a forest.

“We’re not lost,” Emi insisted, “Tokyo is south west of us. All I have to do is keep driving and eventually we’ll find a road to get us there.”

“That would be correct,” Kwan stated, glancing at the compass, “except we’re going north east.”

“Son of a bitch!” Emi snapped, thumping her head on the steering wheel. She pulled off to the side of the road, shut off the engine, and turned to face Kwan, “okay, we’re lost. How the hell do we get back to the highway?”

I took a look around the car to see how everyone was reacting. Hisao was re-reading Simon R. Green’s Deathstalker, while behind us Lilly seemed to have fallen asleep. Her head was resting on Kenji’s right shoulder, and she was snoring like a beached whale. Kenji was reading something, but what I couldn’t tell. Probably a book on how the Illuminati tried to take over Canada, or something like that.

Kwan and Emi looked over the map, trying to figure out where we were.

“We turned left here,” he said, indicating a small line on the map that led away from the highway and Tokyo, “instead of right.”

“Oh!” Emi exclaimed, “And then I made a right at the next road, so I thought we were going the right way.”

“Looks like,” Kwan concurred.

It took a few more minutes of navigating, but eventually the two figured out how to get back to the highway.

“Here goes nothing,” Emi announced, turning the ignition and tapping Bobble Chris.

“Meow,” Miki declared from the wayback.

I went back to my book only to find myself unable to focus on the pages, the words on them a fuzzy blur of tiredness. I must’ve been more tired then I thought, or maybe I was having a caffeine crash. I closed the book and shut my eyes.

“Tired?” Hisao asked.

Still keeping my eyes closed, I nodded.

I felt him put his arm around me and I started slightly. He paused for a second, slowly resting his hand on my left shoulder. Then he carefully eased me onto his own shoulder.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, exhaustion starting to overtake me, though I dimly heard Emi ask Kwan some navigation directions.

“No problem,” Hisao said, his arm still around me.

I was almost asleep when I heard him shout, “cow!”

“Huh?” I mumbled.

I felt the car lurch suddenly and my eyes snapped open. The force of the lurch pushed me away from Hisao’s shoulder, but his grip on me tightened and kept me from flying into the door as he dropped his book to cling to the seat belt with his other hand. Emi had swerved into the right lane to avoid a very startled looking cow that had meandered onto the road.

“Stay off the road you fucking hamburger!” Emi shouted.

“That sounds unsanitary,” Lilly muttered behind me, likely roused by the swerve- Kenji had grabbed her to keep her from flying like Hisao had with me.

“Sorry, everyone,” Emi said, “I refuse to yield to dinner.”

“Just don’t damage the paneling,” Kenji said as he let go of Lilly, “Oji’ll have a fit if the paneling gets damaged; he says it’s the best part.”

“Speaking of which,” Hisao said, “I shoulda asked this earlier, but you checked the car for drugs, right?”

“Of course, man,” Kenji replied, “there was an ounce of pot in the glovebox, so he decided to make brownies.”

“Is everyone okay?” Kwan asked, bringing us back to the matter at hand.

Everyone was, so we settled down and awaited the return to the highway, which Kwan said would take another fifteen or so minutes.

“Wonderful,” Kenji snapped, “I’m not counting this as part of your hour, you know.”

“That’s fair,” Emi stated, “and don’t worry about us being behind schedule, I can make up the difference.”

“Please don’t,” Lilly said, “I’d rather not be pulled over today.”

“I don’t see why not,” Hisao cut in, “what could possibly be suspicious about six twenty-somethings in a forty-year old classic American car, none of whom have their names on the title?”

I giggled and settled back into Hisao’s shoulder. He held me a bit tighter and asked, “You okay?”

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled, the shock of the cow incident wearing off already. Apparently even all the tea I had consumed wasn’t enough to make up for getting up early and dealing with Kenji and Emi’s bickering.

I felt Hisao kiss my forehead. Blushing lightly, I almost missed him whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I managed to mumble before sleep finally asserted itself.

+++
Next Chapter

Road trips can be tiring. Also: awwwww.

So now our traveling circus has a mascot. They were gonna give the job to Emi, but she refused to wear the cat ears… Oh God that would be so adorable… I need to go play Dust 514 to reassert my manliness. Or go bear hunting with a lever action shotgun and a machete. That sounds like too much work though.

And yes, I am aware that keeping an animal in a car for a weekend is a Very Bad Idea. Emi’s not the most fore thinking of people, however. We’ll say the parking structure has a cooling system, or something.

Next time, Miki the Cat causes some trouble and Hisao beseeches the Omnissiah for help, but will it be enough? At this rate, will they ever get to Tokyo?

Oh, and while I’m here:

I am the very model of a nineteenth cent’ry historian
I have information Lincoln, Polk, Jacksonian
When it comes to US battles I am very full of trivia
From Montezuma to the shores Algeria
Roosevelt I envy for his awesomeness
Coolidge I disdain for his shamefulness
My forte urban and Michiganian
I am the very model of a nineteenth cent’ry historian.

The Civil War was a great big mess
Sorry I tend to digress
Forgoing things Canadian
I am the very model of a nineteenth cent’ry historian.

From the States Bar’bry to San Juan Hill
And the evolution of the dollar bill
I remember the war with Mexico
Even though nothing rhymes with it-ico
Spain and the US once did clash
And we gave them a chunk of cash
Not a poet coach or musician
I am the very model of a nineteenth cent’ry historian.

From Jefferson to McKinley
I remember him most distinctly
I’d talk with him if I had a De’Lorean
I am the very model of a nineteenth cent’ry historian.

Springfield rifles ruled the west
Except for Custer’s big distress
If only he’d listened to Gatling
He could have gone on battling
I read about the Toledo War
It took some time to settle that score
Sorry for another digression
I am the very model of a nineteenth cent’ry historian.

I may not be very good at sports
Or read of Rome’s great cohorts
My forte urban and Michiganian
I am the very model of a nineteenth cent’ry historian.

Quoth the kitten, “Meow.”

You just couldn't resist, could you?

Slowly and surely, the mystery of why Kenji was so fucked up was being unraveled.

Indeed...

“That’s more then I got,”

than*

No cow-tipping? What kind of shoddy road-trip is this?

Helbereth wrote:You just couldn't resist, could you?

No, I could not . I mean, two literary references in one chapter (Of Mice and Men was the first)? How do I resist that?

Got the than, thanks for that.

No cow-tipping? What kind of shoddy road-trip is this?

The kind when they're in a hurry, unfortunately. I'd imagine Hanako would have some words about such antics as well.

Such antics are best done at night, anyway. Which gives me an idea for a one shot involving Oji, some weed, and a bottle of Jack Daniels...

I literally can't read anything involving "modern major general" without thinking of Mordins "Scientist Salerian".

AntonSlavik020 wrote:I literally can't read anything involving "modern major general" without thinking of Mordins "Scientist Salerian".

Yeah, that was on my mind when I came up with my own lyrics.

He even gave me a fifty percent discount on this stuff

And the prices are still insane?
Anyway my bet is, he trained the cat to run away at the next stop and come back to him to be adopted by the next gullible person.

She’ll be fine in the car if we crack a window and it stays cool in the parking structure because she’s, you know, a cat?

a) How does she know ther will be such a thing?
b) Leaving a cat in a car that is precious to someone else is certain to bite her later on.

and we wouldn’t reconnect until over a decade later. That’s a different story, though, and not mine to tell in any case.

This chapter is narrated by Hanako. Does she even know that story?

Mirage_GSM wrote:And the prices are still insane?

She's complaining more about convenience store prices generally, then the specific cost she paid, I figure. I haven't shopped at one recently enough to do the math one way or another, sadly.

Anyway my bet is, he trained the cat to run away at the next stop and come back to him to be adopted by the next gullible person.

As I understand it, the only thing cats can be trained to do is rip out someones throat.

a) How does she know ther will be such a thing?

She doesn't. As I said, Emi didn't quite think this through. Rest assured that Miki the Cat is in no danger from car related harm, through sheer dumb luck if nothing else.

This chapter is narrated by Hanako. Does she even know that story?

She knows it exists, because once Miki touched base with Hisao and Kenji, the two started communicating again (Miki herself will appear in my next one shot, which has something to do with cake... or ninja's, I can't quite remember.)

The version Hisao told her is probably "Kenji and I went to a bar, and turns out it's owned by Miki and her husband. She went on a drunken bar crawl for a while before joining AA and getting an augment to replace her hand."

This, of course, presumes that Hanako is neither aware of Hisao's memoirs (which is basically what you're reading), or has no hand in writing them .

Hoitash wrote:This, of course, presumes that Hanako is neither aware of Hisao's memoirs (which is basically what you're reading), or has no hand in writing them .

Considering the way this story has worked from both angles, I assume Hanako is much more aware of Hisao's antics than we're led to believe in H&K:MD, if only years later. The Halloween story, for instance, leaves a lot of very suspicious circumstantial evidence that I doubt would go completely unnoticed by Hisao's literary-inclined wife. Perhaps it took years for Hisao to finally tell her all the gritty details, but, if he's writing memoires, I doubt she isn't at least aware of them and their contents--no doubt she would try to impose help on him, seeing as she's the writer while he's a scientist.

This is all circumstantial, of course, but to assume Hanako never had any real clue what was going on would be insulting her intelligence. Given her history, having lived through her parents' demise, and later spending most of her childhood being ridiculed, she's probably acutely aware of people's facial tics and body language. Honestly, the only way I think she might not know anything about Hisao's gallivanting around the globe hunting down conspiracy theories with Kenji is if she completely denied all the evidence and concocted some kind of fantasy explanation.

Helbereth wrote:

Hoitash wrote:This, of course, presumes that Hanako is neither aware of Hisao's memoirs (which is basically what you're reading), or has no hand in writing them .

Considering the way this story has worked from both angles, I assume Hanako is much more aware of Hisao's antics than we're led to believe in H&K:MD, if only years later. The Halloween story, for instance, leaves a lot of very suspicious circumstantial evidence that I doubt would go completely unnoticed by Hisao's literary-inclined wife. Perhaps it took years for Hisao to finally tell her all the gritty details, but, if he's writing memoires, I doubt she isn't at least aware of them and their contents--no doubt she would try to impose help on him, seeing as she's the writer while he's a scientist.

Yep, that's pretty much it. You could say the memoirs are as much meant for her and his children as they are meant for us. Now, the heap of 'splainin' he had to do probably cost him a few months on the couch, but hey, no good deed goes unpunished.

She never truly bought the whole "storm damaged the summer home" story, anyway. Although I imagine it took some convincing for her to believe the real culprit.

While I find it odd that they would all think bringing a kitten along with them is a great idea, the potential for humor in the cat's naive antics should make for some amusing moments. I wholeheartedly hope that we shall have a chapter in which the gang has to protect the kitten from a series of Looney-Tune-esque dangers whilst engaging in slapstick cliches. Alternatively, you could just crossover Katawa Shoujo with "Feed the Kitty" and substitute the bulldog Marc Anthony with the slightly dumber Kenji.

That, or we could just make bad cat puns.

octovaitor wrote:That, or we could just make bad cat puns.

What, like mentioning there's now one extra pussy along for the trip?

Helbereth wrote:

octovaitor wrote:That, or we could just make bad cat puns.

What, like mentioning there's now one extra pussy along for the trip?

That purrfect pun gave me paws . You certainly don't kitten around when it comes to these things.

Hoitash wrote:

Helbereth wrote:

octovaitor wrote:That, or we could just make bad cat puns.

What, like mentioning there's now one extra pussy along for the trip?

That purrfect pun gave me paws . You certainly don't kitten around when it comes to these things.

Hey here's a question for philosophical debate: why didn't you use the local 'nyan' over 'meow'? At this point, I doubt many readers here would complain...

Helbereth wrote:Hey here's a question for philosophical debate: why didn't you use the local 'nyan' over 'meow'? At this point, I doubt many readers here would complain...

Because the cat is talking, not trying to be adorable. Besides, I tend to consider "nyan" an honorific due to my K-On! fandom. Now, I could have the cat say "nya" (and originally did) like Rin from Love Live! School Idol Project tends to do, but I figured people would get upset if I did.

There's also a translation convention with KS where frankly it feels weird to write it like its anime fanfiction. Maybe its because so few such items are in the novel itself.

So in the future, I will embrace my otaku dorkdom. Those who prefer I do not may blame Helbereth .

Don't worry, I'm kidding. Maybe.

"For Christ's sake men- come on! Do you want to live forever?" –Sergeant Major Daniel Daly

Previous Chapter

Chapter Eight (Hisao): Next Time, Stay in the Barrel


Hanako spent most of the rest of Emi’s driving shift sleeping against my shoulder. I was worried she might have a nightmare –they tended to sneak up on her, and still do occasionally- but she just quietly laid against my shoulder, her breathing calm and peaceful, a small smile still etched on her features from before she gave in to the exhaustion.

Emi offered to keep driving, but I knew when Hanako found out I’d shirked my duty for her sake, she’d blame herself. Besides, I really needed to use the bathroom, and having the weight of another person braced against my shoulder wasn’t really comfortable for long periods, not that it wasn’t worth every bit of discomfort.

So with Hanako navigating, I took my shift at driving, Kwan and Emi in the wayback looking after the kitten, while Kenji and Lilly sat in the back. Lilly was fingering through a book while sipping from a cup of tea, the book placed carefully in her lap. Kenji was alternating between reading a copy of The Da Vinci Code and looking back to help with the kitten, which mostly consisted of help with the litter box.

“We should probably empty that,” Kenji stated about half an hour into my shift, “since it’s so small.”

“It is not a pleasant smell,” Lilly added, though I think she was the only one who could smell it –Daredevil senses and all that.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Emi chirped, “All they had was the cheap litter that doesn’t have the odor-eater stuff.”

“It happens,” Kenji said, then turned forward to look at me, “hey, man, if you could take us off the road somewhere, I can empty it and replace the litter.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s littering,” I replied.

“Kitty littering, actually,” Hanako quipped.

I chuckled and nodded, “good point.”

“There’s an exit up ahead,” Kenji stated, examining his maps for confirmation, “we can spare a few minutes for the sanctity of our nostrils.”

“And I don’t think Miki likes her litter box dirty,” Emi observed, “she keeps glaring at it.”

“Well, we are training her,” Kenji said, “It’s probably freaking her out a bit.”

“Meow,” Miki declared.

“And I’m not thrilled with having a dirty litter box with us in the event of a sudden stop,” Kwan added.

“Okay,” I sighed, “I’ll get off, though this exit doesn’t seem to have many gas stations or anything.”

“The Agricultural Ministry uses the forests for research,” Kenji explained, “so it can’t be developed within a certain number of kilometers off the road. That’s what they claim, at least. I’m pretty sure that Kawasaki is mining minerals from under the forest, and they can’t risk it being revealed.”

“Why would they do that?” Kwan asked.

“Duh,” Kenji said, “‘cuz they’re under the thumb of the Illuminati.”

“You think every company is under the thumb of the Illuminati,” I countered as I drove off the highway onto the road.

(As it was, there were entry requirements, but never mind that mess.)

The road we drove onto from the highway was a narrow, two lane path of aging pavement that was heavily cracked and filled. It was lined on either side by a massive sprawl of trees of several species, their vast array of green leaves casting shadows on the lush looking grass and shrubs at their feet. There wasn’t another car or any sign of human life for kilometers, except every now and then it looked like a camera had been strapped into one of the trees.

“See!” Kenji snapped, pointing at one of the gray boxes as we passed it, “they’re using the ruse of forest research to spy on us!”

“How the fuck can you see one of those cameras?” Emi asked, “But you can’t see a book shelf half a meter in front of you?”

“You planted that shelf to sabotage me, you feminazi agent!” Kenji retorted.

“I thought you got over that anti-feminist crap,” Emi sneered.

“There is nothing wrong with fighting the Freemason’s female auxiliary!” Kenji nearly shouted, making Lilly flinch, “They may have corrupted the sanctity of America’s housewives, but I will not let them corrupt our supple Japanese women with their zealous lesbianism!”

“Play nice,” Kwan said, “I’d hate for Miki’s parents to fight.”

“Meow,” Miki mewled.

Kenji growled a bit before sighing. With a visible effort he inhaled, exhaled, and slowly nodded, his jaw set, “fine. Sorry, Lilly.”

“I should be used to it by now,” Lilly mused.

Kenji nodded stiffly, massaging his spleen lightly as he gazed out into the forest. Emi, meanwhile, redirected her umbrage at Kwan.

“Wait,” Emi snapped at Kwan, “what do you mean ‘Miki’s parents’?”

“You’re the cat people,” Kwan replied, “my family only ever kept pigeons.”

“That explains why she keeps sniffing you,” Emi mused.

“I’m pulling over now,” I announced, since no one was paying attention.

“Thanks, man,” Kenji said as I stopped the car and popped the hatchback, “I’ll be back in a sec.”

“Wait,” Emi said, “aren’t you gonna show me how to clean it?”

“When we’re at the hotel,” Kenji said, “for now I’m just dumping it.”

“I hope that litter is biodegradable,” Kwan said.

“It is,” I said, “I checked the composition at the last stop.”

“Nerd,” Emi muttered.

Kenji hopped out of the hatchback, the oil pan/litter box held carefully in both hands. Before he could close the back, Miki leapt onto his shoulder –I could see through the rear-view mirror.

“You comin’?” Kenji asked her, grinning widely.

“You sure you wanna go?” Emi asked.

“Meow,” Miki declared.

I was starting to think that cat was slowly making all of us insane. Perhaps it was a Great Old One in disguise.

“If anything happens to her…” Emi snarled at Kenji.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kenji said with a wave, “my balls are yours. Nothin’ bad’ll happen. Except maybe a bear, or giant hornets, but I am prepared for such threats.”

“What about his balls?” Kwan asked.

“Don’t be too long,” I said as I shut off the car to save gas, “we’re behind schedule as it is.”

“Don’t worry,” Kenji said, “I got this.”

With that, Kenji closed the hatchback and wandered off into the woods to our left, occasionally holding the pan with one hand to rub his spleen as he ventured into the woods.

“Godspeed, Kenji,” Lilly declared.

“How much tea have you had?” Hanako asked, startling me slightly; her firm tone caught me off guard.

“I’m fine, Hanako,” Lilly declared, though the fact she was vibrating slightly rendered her statement somewhat implausible.

“You’ve been drinking more tea than water,” Kwan observed.

“If it keeps her from beating Kenji and Emi with her cane,” I added, “its fine.”

“I would never do such a thing,” Lilly said, “no matter how tiring their bickering becomes.”

“I th-think it’s cute,” Hanako said, “l-like an old m-married couple. Oh!” Hanako turned to look toward Kwan, her face flushed, “s-sorry! It-its j-just s-something I-I n-noticed, I d-didn’t m-mean a-anything b-by it!”

“Forget it,” Kwan said, chuckling lightly and waving a hand above his head, “you have a point; they bicker more then we do, at least.”

“You two seem to get along rather well,” Lilly added as Hanako slumped back into her seat in relief.

Kwan sighed, “Yeah, sure seems that way.”

I opened my mouth to prod about that, but a distant shout stopped me.

“Roll up the windows and start the car!”

“Was that Kenji?” Lilly asked.

“It wasn’t Townsend Harris,” I quipped, “roll ‘em up.”

Hanako and Lilly rolled up their windows, and I turned to watch the forest for a sign of Kenji. I didn’t have to wait long, because a few seconds later he came charging out of the forest like a hunter at a PETA convention. He was clinging to the litter box with his left hand, his right holding on to my commissar cap. Miki was curled into a ball in the empty pan, and I could hear her frantic meowing from here.

“What the fuck did he do to Miki?!” Emi barked.

“START THE FUCKING CAR!” Kenji screamed, loud enough to make Lilly flinch.

I blinked and turned the ignition. The car sputtered but refused to start. I looked at Kenji to shout something through the window, but it died in my throat as I saw the full scope of how fucked we were about to become.

An unearthly series of screeches and hoots had filled the air; the screeches and calls of the spawn of Damnation themselves were screaming at Kenji and Miki, blood in their eyes as they surged forward.

“What is that awful sound?” Lilly asked.

“Jesus Christ,” Emi breathed, “er, no offense, Lils.”

“None taken,” Lilly said, “but what is going on out there?”

“Kenji and Miki are being chased by a troop of macaques,” Kwan declared.

Troop was an exaggeration. There were, however, six very angry, very large monkeys hurtling themselves at the two as they charged for the safety of the car. Covered in light brown and gray hair, with red faces, the animals were each a little over half a meter long, their tales twitching in rage as they charged at Kenji and Miki on all fours, screeching and hooting in what I suspected was bloodlusted rage.

“Lilly, open your door,” I instructed, “the second you feel Kenji dive past you, shut it, understand?”

“Yes,” Lilly responded, her door opening with a click.

I leaned back to shout out the open door, “Kenji, dive for it!”

“Save Miki!” He snapped, and tossed the oil pan.

“MIKI!” Emi screeched.

The oil pan sailed through the air, spinning like some weird Frisbee. I fully expected the thing to slam against my door or for Miki to be flung from it off into the wilderness, so I was incredibly surprised when it easily slipped past Lilly and settled on the seat next to her.

“Miki!” Emi squealed, quickly scooping up the oddly calm kitten, “are you okay?”

“Meow,” Miki declared.

“Huh,” Kwan said, observing Kenji’s mad dash for the car, “he runs faster then I’d expect.”

“Good form, too,” Emi added, glancing at Kenji as he bolted for the relative safety of the car.

“He runs with me a couple times a week,” I explained. A routine that would prove disturbingly helpful in the future, as it turned out.

“Lilly, brace for impact!” Kenji barked, and dove.