Katawa Shoujo Forums

*Sigh* This is what happens when I ask questions that shouldn't be asked and I get an answer for it....

Leaty: Try as I might, I can't bring myself to write an Iwanako/Kenji story.
atw_ah: I just realized, how would a Iwanako/Kenji storyline even start without Hisao being in Yamaku in the first place?
Mirage_GSM: Easy: You just have to make up the situation where they are meeting instead of copying it from the VN.

Let me explain the events that followed my reading of Mirage's post. I laughed at his post because it was the perfect answer to such a foolish question. I started to think about how it would work out and kept coming up blank by trying to follow Leaty's Iwanako. Gave up on trying to do that and started to work on the next Bloodline chapter. Came up blank on Bloodline because the Kenji/Iwanako pairing was infecting my mind. Left my laptop to go for a walk to clear my head. Inspiration hit! And so this was born. Enjoy!

Part 1 (This post)
Part 2

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Challenge Accepted

It's hot, unusually hot for this time of year. To think that just a few months ago this place was covered in a blanket of white. No one could have expected that once the snow melted it would be so unbearably hot. There are already kids running around enjoying the fresh air, taking full advantage of the time they have outside before the school year starts anew.

The city is what you'd expect any other city to look like, tall buildings scraping the sky and traffic as far as the eye can see. Sights and sounds barrage the senses, there is always something happening, always something to be seen or heard. Everyone rushing around as if they were bees, each one having a specific job to do and a time limit to do it in. No one slows down, who would want to? No one wants to be the person that makes everything come to a screeching halt. But someone has to be, there's always some poor soul that carries that burden.

As I make my way through the city, I can start to feel the heat get to me. I try looking out into the distance in hopes of seeing my destination but all I see are mirages where the horizon melts the earth and sky. I take refuge in a small cafe and order myself a tall, cold glass of milk. I made sure to keep small bills in my wallet to pay with, it's bad luck to do break a bill for less than half its worth after all.

Preferring solitude, I find an empty table near a window where I sit to recollect my wandering thoughts. I can hear the people around me talk about one thing or another. Some talk about the latest blockbuster to come out of Hollywood or the gossip of some new teen idol. No one talks about what I came here for, no one would. However, every so often someone whispers something softly, something that's supposedly taboo, something extremely close to home...

Death.

It was in this city where it happened. They said it was an accident, that no one could have seen it coming. No one knew that the boy had a heart condition and that he couldn't stand the shock of a confession from a girl. It ran in all of the papers with different titles that included some ridiculous ones: "Love Hurts," "Better to Have Love and Lost," or even "The Possible Start of a Love Story." No charges were filed because the girl didn't have an ill will towards the boy. How could she possibly know something that no one in the entire world knew. No one questioned it, no one looked into it, they all accepted and believed it.

Everyone, except the last sane man in an insane world.

I finish off my glass and head out of the cafe with a renewed sense of vigor. This is what I must do, it's my duty to find out the truth that no one wants to admit. Feminists are everywhere, lurking and waiting for a right time to strike. They hide in plain sight and slowly grow in number. They already outnumber us in Japan and no man is willing to stand up to them, at least not yet.

This boy he could have a been a hero. He could have been the one to save us all but he died well before his time. But why? Was it because of some heart condition that he was unaware of or was it something else? I don't think he died because of an accident, no, it'd be too perfect for that to happen. He was killed by the Feminists. He probably discovered something, some secret that they didn't want to get out. So the Feminist use their killing machine, the rock-fish-kid, to conveniently cause a heart attack. The boy dies, the Feminists keep their secrets, and no one is to blame for it. Perfect crime, right?

Wrong!

They made a mistake, they were too busy with their nails to hide the name of the weapon and location of the event. The ultimate clue, the one chink in their massive armor, left forgotten, ready to be maliciously abused by me. This is one opportunity too great to pass up. Granted it might be a trap, but I'll regret it if I don't take this chance now.

The sky overhead is quickly covered up by the canopy of trees. The temperature significant drops as I step into the woods. Each step I take on the ground makes countless noises as twigs break beneath my weight. I quickly realize that any stealth would be next to impossible under these conditions. If I'm found out, I'll have to feint ignorance and hope that they don't use the rock-fish-kid against me. I hasten my pace to reach the location of the event. The sooner I investigate the area the faster I can leave. I don't want to be found by any Feminist, Lord knows what they'll do to me.

A shrine, nothing too fancy or big but still an honor to the poor soul that lost his life here. There's a picture of the boy surrounded by a large display of flowers. Hisao Nakai looks at me with his innocent, smiling face. It's hard to believe that this messy-haired boy discovered a secret about them. He looks too inexperienced and average to have done something by himself. What a shame that he never learned the value of avoiding the fashion that the Feminist try to force down our throats. Maybe if he had something that set him apart from others, like my scarf for instance, he wouldn't have fallen so easily.

I offer my respects to my fallen brother-at-arms and begin my investigation. I spend several minutes inspecting the area for any clues left behind by the clean-up crew. Nothing. Not even a speck of dust from the rock-fish-kid weapon. I sigh loudly before starting again. This time I take careful precautions not to overlook even the small-

"What are you doing here?" Somehow a small, timid, feminine voice managed to sneak up on me.

I had rehearsed for this exact situation. "Oh, hey. I'm just saying paying my respects to an old friend."

The long-haired brunette makes her way towards the shrine and stands in front of it for a few moments. She has a sad expression on her face as she stares at the picture. "So you knew him too?"

"Yeah, he and I go way back. Shame that we never got a chance to hang out again." You're never supposed to lie about those who can't speak but I think the universe can forgive me this one time. It's for the greater good.

Tears begin to form at the corner of the girl's eyes. She wipes them away before she places a flower in front of the shrine. "I come here every day and ask for his forgiveness. I didn't mean for this to happen. I just wanted to," she begins sobbing and her words get muffled. "I just wanted to love him."

A Feminist that wants love? It has to be a trick, it must be the way that the rock-fish-kid works. I have to keep up this facade so I don't get caught

"Hey don't cry. I'm sure that-" a quick look at the name plate, "Hisao wouldn't have blamed you for any of this."

My words don't help as the girl falls on her knees and begins crying without restraint. "I know that he wouldn't blame me, no one ever did. But it's my fault, he died because of me!"

The sound of her crying is painful to hear. It's not one of a cold-hearted killer but of an inexperienced one regretting her first kill. It's really sad but good for me, I can use this to find out about the rock-fish-kid.

I sit down next to her and put my hand on her shoulder. "Hey listen, you don't have to blame yourself. Things like this happen and people eventually die, but they wouldn't want you to just regret their loses." The girl stops crying and stares at me, she's actually kinda cute. "You have to cherish the memories they left you and honor them by being happy because of it."

Or something like that. I'm honestly just pulling clichés from old movies. Seemed the best way to comfort her.

I'm caught off guard as the girl wraps her arms around me. This is it! I screwed up and now I'm going to die like that kid. I close my eyes and brace myself for the cold grasp of death. I sit there for what feels like eons but it never comes. The girl buries her head into my chest and cries into it.

Is this a hug? My shirts getting wet though. I guess the common response would be to return the gesture.

We sit there for a few moments until the girl stops crying. I help her off of the ground and she once again bows her head in front of the shrine. We walk together towards the edge of the woods and back to the sights and sounds of the city.

I turn my head and look at the girl next to me. She still seems sad but she has a slight hop to her step. She must have strengthened her resolve back there, but she is still vulnerable enough to spill the beans on about the Feminist agenda.

I have to remain undercover and try to find the secrets she's hiding. "Hey, do you feel up to doing something today? Maybe bowling or something along those lines."

A small smile is visible on her face, "I'd like that. I'm Iwanako, by the way."

By the looks of things, I'll be undercover for a long while. Might as well get used to it. I smile and warmly answer, "I'm Kenji."

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Fun facts:
1. At one point, I wanted to incorporate this into Bloodline but since Hisao is dead in this continuity, it's not possible to follow this train of thought within that story.
2. Although it probably wasn't meant to taken this way, Mirage's post felt like a challenge to me and the competitive spirit in me wouldn't let that stand.

Part 2

See? That wasn't too hard, was it?

Ahem, I mean I would like to state that in no way was my post the other day meant to be a challenge of any kind.
I approve of the results, though.
A few typos:
Tall building scraping the sky...
Feminist are everywhere...
You're never suppose to lie...
...corner of the girls eyes.
...keep of this facade...
...raps her arms around me...
...the common respond would be...
She must have strengthen her resolve...

Btw, what's a rock-fish-kid?

Mirage_GSM wrote: Btw, what's a rock-fish-kid?

In one of the Storylines Hisao tells Kenji he got a letter from Iwanako, to which Kenji replies with a remark about a Rock-Fish-Kid.
The last sylable "Ko" in a name could be translated to "Child of" (Aiko - Child of Love). Where-as Iwa translates to rock (most famously in the Naruto series : Iwagakure no sato = Village of the Hidden Rock)
Not sure about the Na - Fish one though

Duh... Yeah, following Kenji's logic can hurt sometimes...
And yes, the "na" can mean fish, and "ko" means child - not necessarily "of". That depends on the context.
So you could write Iwanako's name with the Kanji for rock, fish and child. Not sure which Kanji they actually use, and I can't write Kanji on my tablet...

Yeah, I just assume that Iwanako's name is 石魚子 (which I can't help but read as Shiyuzi) and run with that. I'm a Mandarin speaker, but I've found that trying to puzzle out how Hanzi would be pronounced as Kanji is insufferably difficult. Her name is kind of cool, though, because if you read the characters as "Stone-Fish-Child," it sounds like "Stonefish Child." Stonefishes (Synanceia) are the most venomous fishes in the world.

Anyway, I approve of this story. I wasn't quite sure where you were going with this, but I found the results very amusing, so kudos to you.

A very original idea for this highly unusual pairing. Great find!

Indeed, this is a very original idea. And, side from some minor spelling and grammar gripes, very well written. I only have one major concern; the whole time, Kenji talks about how undercover he is and what not... then, at the end, he introduces himself with his real name. I can't see a paranoid guy like him using his real name, especially with a 'Feminist'. Unless... (hmm, I suppose Kenji is crazy enough to make this work) unless he used his real name in the belief that the Feminists would assume it wasn't his name, and thus not look for Kenji Setou because it's a 'fake' name. Actually, in a way, that sounds kinda reasonable. Especially with the 'hiding in plain sight' thing he mentioned when he went and bought that invisible hat.
Cheers, BlackWaltz.

So generally, April first is treated as a day to be silly and what not. I kinda wanted to write a fake story for Bloodline or Nomad (which I will eventually get back to writing) but I couldn't find a good way to work it in. So that's when I decided to write something silly instead. But I'm not much of a comedy writer so I had to do things in my own way which lead to me going back to an older story of mine. I was planning on eventually turning this thread into a one-shot collection, but now I think I'll leave it like this because, well, it's a silly little story of my own.

Now then, onward to the sequel that no one asked for!

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Challenge Accepted 2: Challenge Harder

There they are; all of them going about their lives as if nothing in the world mattered. They act as if the world is just some happy place that'll fully support them in any endeavor that they attempt. They frolic and play in their little festival completely ignorant of the dark hands that pull at their strings.

None of them know. None could possibly imagine what lays behind the curtain. It is a monster beyond belief. A monster that eats everything we know and love. This monster and its dark hands, the diabolical puppeteers that control everything around us, go by a certain name...

Feminists.

Their influence is limitless. From every national election to the prices of everyday essentials, their dark hands are firmly grasped around the throat of the free world. Each and every day the grip becomes tighter and more constricting. Slowly the free world suffocates until the day it all comes crashing down.

On that day the world will be lost. Presidents, Prime Ministers and Kings will be nothing more than pitiful pawns without an ounce of power. The lives of every man, woman, and child will become meaningless. Everything will be controlled; no one would be able to move an inch without the Feminists approval.

Those that somehow manage to escape will be looking for a leader, a symbol to guide them to the promise land. When the madness of the world overwhelms them, they'll turn to the last sane man in an insane world and shout 'save us!'

And I'll look down, and whisper 'no.'

They had their chance, all of them. They could have done something before the world turned to ash. They could have followed in the footsteps of good men, decent men that could have lead them to great things. Instead they allowed themselves to be seduced by the Feminists. They allowed the world to be the Feminists' play thing and didn't realize the path lead over a precipice until it was too late.

No, if the world is to be saved it has to be before it is too late. There is still time. My plan has to work. I need to know what the Feminists are plotting and how it will lead to the destruction of the free world.

I need to break the code of the rock-fish-kid.

"Kenji, what are you doing standing so close to the edge?" The soft, timid voice of a cute girl breaks the silence that I've been enjoying.

I am the only one who's gotten this close to a Feminist and lived to tell the tale. I can't let this opportunity go to ruin. I have to keep up my facade until she drops her guard and tells me what I need to know.

"Just enjoying the view from up here. It's not every day that you get to see the results of such hard work."

Several month ago, I went to a nearby city to investigate the mysterious death of a local high school boy. The story ran in all of the papers that the boy died of a heart disease that he didn't know he had. The event was triggered by being confessed to by the girl. No one was able to save him in time and he died a dog's death.

I couldn't find any physical evidence of any weapons used but I did discover her, Iwanako Daidouji. Turns out that this girl is a low ranking Feminist assassin who was sent to kill the boy with an experimental weapon. The weapon, the rock-fish-kid, worked perfectly but left the user in a state of despair. Most likely this despair resulted from the girl's own inexperience in the matter.

Whatever the case may be, this girl is my only lead to find the Feminists' hideout. I have to keep acting like I'm interested in her and willingly to stay with her until she spills her guts out. Either that happens, or she spills my guts; it's a dangerous game I'm playing here.

I take a hesitant step away from the ledge and slowly face the girl. One deep breath later, and I once again take on a fake persona as I approach her.

"What's all this? I thought you just went to find a restroom."

The girl is sitting on the ground with a blanket under her and a picnic basket to her left. I never saw any indication that she had this in the vicinity. It couldn't have been any more than four minutes that she left on her own. This could be the way that she snuck her weapon around.

Damn it all to hell! I knew I should done a much more thorough inspection of the area instead of a brief glance here and there. I hate undercover work! It forces me to be in such a vulnerable position that only an amateur would be in.

"Well, I thought that since no one else is up here we could enjoy this privacy."

I flinch as she reaches into her basket. Fully expecting the rock-fish-kid, I relax a little as she pulls out some form of liquid, a pair of glasses, napkins and various finger foods.

How distastefully feminine.

Albeit reluctantly, I sit down across from her and accept the glass she hands to me. She smiles and pours the clear red liquid into both of our glasses.

As if sensing my question she quickly answers, "It's fruit punch; it's one of my favorite brands."

It appears that some form of precognitive techniques are taught to assassins. I make mental of that. When she isn't looking I take a quick whiff of the drink. There doesn't seem to be any indication that this has been tampered with. No scent seems out of place in the fruit drink, but I have to see her drink it first before attempt to do so myself.

The vast array of food she's brought is still in its originally packaging. She's mentioned before that she is a terrible cook. It makes sense since Feminist want to make men their slaves. No reason to cook if you have someone else to do it for you. In makes my skin crawl just thinking about what this girl could be planning to make me do when she makes me her slave. On the plus side, it lessens the chance that the food has been tampered with. It only lessens the chances though. Much like the juice, I'll have to let her eat it first before I do.

As she busies herself with unwrapping the food, I go over the sequence of events that lead me to this moment. After walking away from the scene of the crime together, the girl and I went bowling. I couldn't get to her to reveal anything about the Feminist agenda but I was successful in obtaining her basic information.

After that we kept in contact, through traditional mail mostly until I was forced to purchase a mobile phone. I hate those infernal things, they're easily traceable and produce high frequency, brain-altering sound wave. Plus they go off at just about any hour of the day.

Through our conversations over the phone, we were able to arrange many meetings throughout these months. At each of these meetings, I would analyze her movements and her habits. From what I've gathered, she has little to no training in bringing physical harm to someone. Her resolve can shift from being completely unbreakable to being as brittle as glass. She is extremely clumsy and gets distracted easily. The makings of an assassin she is not.

When she finishes putting out the food, she raises her hands up in the air with a soft 'ta-da.' Little sandwiches, cheese and crackers, cut fruit and other small little snacks are spread across the blanket. My sour expression lightens up when I notice that she also brought a bag of pretzels.

At least there is something I can eat here with damaging my pride too much.

We begin our little picnic in silence. I keep an eye on the girl and watch what she eats. Surprisingly, she has quite an appetite despite her slender figure. She eats a little bit of everything, which is good for me. Unfortunately, she doesn't touch the pretzels, and they just lay there doing nothing. I can't just grab them for myself. They could be poisoned, but I can't just leave them there. They're the most manly thing here.

Damn it woman! You did this on purpose didn't you! You knew the pretzels would be the one thing I would want to eat.

"Is something the matter, Kenji?" she asks.

I rub the back of my head and offer a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it, nothing is wrong."

The girl follows my line of sight and notices the bag of pretzels. "Oh, did you want these? I'm sorry I kept these from you." She grabs the bag and holds it out to me.

I thank her and take the bag. I hesitate for a moment before deciding what to do next. Do I eat a pretzel, or do I just put it down? She hasn't eaten a pretzel yet, so I have no way of knowing if they've been tampered with or not. On the other hand, I can just put the bag down and leave it aside, but she already noticed that I wanted the pretzels. If I don't eat it than it would have been as if I made a big deal out of nothing. She'll question why I didn't eat it and figure out that I'm on to her secret. She'll then pull out the rock-fish-kid and kill me here and now where no one will ever find me.

Okay, I've decided. I'm going to risk it all and eat the pretzel.

I slowly reach into the bag to grab one of the hard, salty mini-pretzels. My hand brushes against one that seems to not be broken. I take hold of it and pull it out of the bag.

I stare at it for several seconds and imagine all of the ways that this could have been tampered with. It could be laced with a poisonous powder. It could not be a pretzel at all and be a miniature explosive that would go off when I least expect it. One of the salt crystals could be a nano-drone that would eject itself out of the pretzel before I chew and inject itself into my brain in order to control me.

Oh God, what have I put myself into. The girl is already eyeing me strangely. I have to do this, now or never.

I close my eyes and put the pretzel in my mouth. I chew once... twice.. and three times before I swallow. Whatever harm may come to me now, I'll know what caused it.

"Those look pretty good. Mind if I have one?" the girl asks as she reaches over and takes the bag from me. She then proceeds to take a few pretzels in her hand and shove them in her mouth.

It doesn't take too long for us to finish the rest of the food. Once everything is thrown away, we stand near the edge of the building and look down at the lights from the festival below. The sight before me, bright lights surrounded by nothing but the dark unknown, serves as a reminder of my mission. I have to keep that light from ever going out. I have to protect it no matter what.

I turn to the girl next to me. She stares out to the light with a small frown on her face. She seems troubled by something. I could use this to my advantage.

"Is something bothering you? You don't seem like your usual self," I ask in the most kind, supportive voice I can muster.

"This school... There's a lot of student here aren't there?"

Yes, yes there are. Too many women though.

"That's right, it's your first time here at Yamaku. I probably should have told you more about it."

She slowly nods her head and doesn't say anymore.

"Yeah, students come from all over just to come to this school and enjoy the environment that Yamaku has." I think that's how the brochure describes it. There might be some other things about the nursing staff or whatever, but I can't say that without sounding like I rehearsed it.

"Are all of them... disabled?" She tenses up at the word 'disabled.' She turns to face me and looks apologetic.

I adjust my glasses before continuing. "Not everyone, but yeah. Most of the students here are disabled in some way."

The girl turns back to the festival, her hands on the fence in front of her and her feet shuffling on the ground. "Do you think he would have come here? You know if he didn't..."

She goes quiet. Once again, she shows how inexperienced she truly is. She's told me before that she still has nightmares about that boy she killed. She keeps telling herself that it was an accident, that she never meant to hurt him, but it doesn't help her.

It's such a shame. The Feminists could have had a great assassin if they waited for this girl to be older before sending her to kill that boy. Their great mistake will be my ticket to discovering their secret plans for ruling the entire world.

Either way, I can't let her stay in this train of thought for too long. If she were to stay like this, I would never be able to get information out of her.

"Who knows if he would have come here. It's not my place to say."

Oh damn it. My answer seems to have had the opposite effect. She looks more depressed now than she just did. Come on, there has to be something I can say that would make her feel better.

She turns away from the lights and rests her back on the fence. "I shouldn't be here. It just feels so wrong to be here. It's because of me that someone—"

"What difference does it make?" I interrupt her in order to keep her here. If she leaves now then I wouldn't have learned anything. At least now she's giving me her attention, but now what do I say?

"Even if he didn't..." The look on her face makes me stop before I say something she doesn't want to hear. "Even if things had turned out differently, there's no reason for you not to be here."

"Sure there is. I'm not even a student here, I'm just some stranger that just came here."

"You're not a stranger. I invited you here, you're my guest. That's enough of a reason for you to be here." There has to be something I can say. Some movie, book, any old cliché is fine. I just need to say the right thing.

"It still feels like I shouldn't be here, though."

I can't think of anything to say. Damn it, she needs to stay here! If she leaves now then what has this whole day been for? It wouldn't be any better than me just staying in my room all day. Wait, that's it!

"The world is a little better because you're here."

"No, it's not." Her voice is weak, and it trembles slightly.

"Iwanako, if you weren't here, I wouldn't be here either. I would most likely have spent this whole day in my room avoiding everyone down there. I would have never gone up here and I would have never seen the festival from all the way up here. "

Her visit is also the reason why I didn't have to help with the stall my class set up for the festival.

"At the very least, you made my life better."

Iwanako turns back to face the festival lights. Even though the lights from down below are dim, I can still see the tiny smile that has formed. For some strange reason, seeing that compels me to smile too.

These Feminists are crafty in their ways to attack our emotions.

A sudden flash of light and followed by a loud roar causes me jump back.

Oh God, it's started! The Feminists are attacking! I'm too late, the free world is doomed!

Before I can get my bearings straight, I feel something wrap itself around my arm. I flinch and freeze up. When I turn my head, I am meet with the sight of Iwanako with her arm intertwined with mine and a big, cheeky grin as she looks up at me.

"Well what's this? You wouldn't happen to be scared of a few fireworks, would you Mr. Setou?"

I scoff at the notion. "No way! Fireworks don't scare me, they just took me by surprise."

Iwanako giggles as she rests her head on my shoulder. "Don't worry Kenji, I won't tell anyone about this. Your secret's safe with me."

For minutes on end, we stand there and watch the show above us. A few shouts can be heard from the festival below us and a blissful sigh comes from Iwanako's lips.

Damn it, why does she have to cute?

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This was actually pretty fun to write. I forgot how fun it was to write a story without having to worry how it'll fit with other chapters. I might do this again later on.
Anyway, time for some fun facts.
1. This was started on April 1st but put on hold because of distractions
2. Iwanako Daidouji is the name of Leaty's version of Iwanako. Since the idea for Challenge Accepted came from there, I figured it would be a nice little reference.
3. Oddly enough, if you turn back the clock about 6 or 7 years and slightly exaggerated my thoughts from that age, then you would have the mind set of this Kenji.
4. Kenji's first monologue was based on Rorschach's monologue from Watchmen. (and now the image of Rorschach Kenji is stuck in my head, time to bust out ye old photo-editing skills)
5. The title is based off of Die Hard for which you can blame on Hoitash for giving me the association
6. Hm, "Challenge Accepted with a Vengeance" has a nice ring to it...

atw_ah wrote:2. Iwanako Daidouji is the name of Leaty's version of Iwanako. Since the idea for Challenge Accepted came from there, I figured it would be a nice little reference.
4. Kenji's first monologue was based on Rorschach's monologue from Watchmen.

I recognized those. I'm stealing Daidouji for her name in a fic, too. And I've read Watchmen about a dozen times.

I created this account just to say that I literally let out a squee when I saw that this existed. For some reason, I've wondered how Kenji/Iwanako would work for a while now, but never thought anyone else would have such an idea.

DLMicheru wrote:

Mirage_GSM wrote: Btw, what's a rock-fish-kid?

In one of the Storylines Hisao tells Kenji he got a letter from Iwanako, to which Kenji replies with a remark about a Rock-Fish-Kid.
The last sylable "Ko" in a name could be translated to "Child of" (Aiko - Child of Love). Where-as Iwa translates to rock (most famously in the Naruto series : Iwagakure no sato = Village of the Hidden Rock)
Not sure about the Na - Fish one though

Wait, so TIL 'Aiko' means love-child... sounds inappropriate. I like it!
(I picked a random name from a list, so shoot me)

griffon8 wrote:

atw_ah wrote:2. Iwanako Daidouji is the name of Leaty's version of Iwanako. Since the idea for Challenge Accepted came from there, I figured it would be a nice little reference.
4. Kenji's first monologue was based on Rorschach's monologue from Watchmen.

I recognized those. I'm stealing Daidouji for her name in a fic, too. And I've read Watchmen about a dozen times.

This is delightful. If Daidouji somehow manages to become accepted as Iwanako's fanon surname, I would be too pleased to express myself.

I really love this ficlet, by the way. I pretty much inherently like anything that features Iwanako prominently, but this has the added benefit of being hilarious.

griffon8 wrote:I recognized those. I'm stealing Daidouji for her name in a fic, too. And I've read Watchmen about a dozen times.

So I'm not the only one who started calling her Daidouji; that's good to know.
I just had a thought. I wrote Kenji to monologue like Rorschach after discovering the death of Hisao, and Rorschach was doing that after discovering the death of The Comedian.
Hm, now I just need a Moloch...

Shaztrot wrote:I created this account just to say that I literally let out a squee when I saw that this existed. For some reason, I've wondered how Kenji/Iwanako would work for a while now, but never thought anyone else would have such an idea.

I feel incredibly satisfied whenever I see a comment like this. It makes me feel like I've done some good in this world.
Unless you turn around and start spamming the place...
Yeah, this version of Kenji/Iwanako probably won't be in anybody's head canon for many reasons, but at the very least it is some attempt for a pairing that is not seen all too often.

Helbereth wrote:Wait, so TIL 'Aiko' means love-child... sounds inappropriate. I like it!
(I picked a random name from a list, so shoot me)

Wait, so you didn't know what the name of the main character in the story you've been writing for months meant until you read this?
I'm not secretly judging you right now or anything, I promise.

Leaty wrote:This is delightful. If Daidouji somehow manages to become accepted as Iwanako's fanon surname, I would be too pleased to express myself.

I'm not really sure if anyone has given her a surname before. The stories I've read all reference her on a first name basis. As far as I'm concerned, you're the only one who's given her a full name. So if this trend keeps going, you'll be single-handedly responsible for her surname. Congrats.

Leaty wrote:I really love this ficlet, by the way. I pretty much inherently like anything that features Iwanako prominently, but this has the added benefit of being hilarious.

Hooray, praise!
It's good to know that someone found this funny. IRL I'm not a funny kind of guy. I can't tell jokes or amusing anecdotes; I'm on the the ball with quick wit and sarcasm though. So to do this with the intention of it being funny is a bit of a departure for me.I'm glad that it had the intended effect.