Those stories are just great =D
I loved each of them ^^
Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
Appreciate it Mr.Android dudemagzh wrote:Those stories are just great =D
I loved each of them ^^
My fine literary endeavors: Real, M&M, Rat Race, and Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness. Feel free to stroke my ego and read them.
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey-Sanic
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey-Sanic
-
OtakuNinja
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Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
Apparently I'm not the only one who calls him that.DanjaDoom wrote:Appreciate it Mr.Android dudemagzh wrote:Those stories are just great =D
I loved each of them ^^
Last edited by OtakuNinja on Fri Aug 24, 2012 3:38 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Emibro, Hanabro, [Lilly Lover], Rin Kin, Feminist, Two-timer
(Passively working on my KS YouTube series. Someday...)
Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
=) nice to have a new nickname (I am already tired of my old ones)DanjaDoom wrote:Appreciate it Mr.Android dude
Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
Why contain it? More camp-related shenanigans. I love this story. I literally can't run out of ideas, here.
Anyway, enjoy and please leave a comment so I don't think I suck.
Campology Part 2: Thunderous Boogaloo of Manliness
This isn’t a morning. Mornings are serene, tranquil. They’re a time to reflect and prepare for the adversities of the day ahead. A beautiful, ethereal note for an otherwise chaotic and broken melody.
Not this morning. This is a Hakamichi morning. Hakamichi mornings in the great outdoors consist more of random people screaming in Vietnamese while my father makes an admirable effort to worsen the situation with all of his might.
It’s just as hellish on my eyes as on my ears. Let’s take note, shall we?
We have the always key essential ingredient of my father in his “10,000 yen boxers” cooking up a potential forest fire with defective outdoor cooking ware he refuses to replace. Of course we have the loud, old Vietnamese couple (it’s always a Vietnamese couple) insisting that the runoff from his burning styrofoam (in reality, flapjacks) has driven off a grazing herd of deer near their campsite. Luckily I took that Vietnamese class in school to avoid this egregious plothole.
At this point, dear readers, my father can simply settle this matter amicably and agree to not cook three pounds on flapjacks at once and potentially cause the death of the indigenous deer via smoke inhalation. But they have made a critical error, my friends.
They’ve underestimated the potential my father has to be, for want of a better word, a dickhole.
A highly opinionated dickhole.
Jigoro is insistent that he had nothing to do with driving those deer off. Not because it’s wrong, but because if he really wanted to kill some deer he wouldn’t go about it “like some circle jerking French people in the feminine hygiene section,” he would kill them as nature intended. With a rock. A heavy rock.
The husband yells out something in Vietnamese that I can’t seem to place, but it sure sounds risque.
“Hey, take your goddamn complaints to Jane Fonda, cause I frankly could care less!”
“It’s ‘couldn’t’ dad.”
“Shut up, Hideaki!”
Poor Lilly. She seems to be torn on what course of action to take. On one hand, she can take a seat and indulge in a semi-burnt flapjack along with the rest of us, and on the other she can tap into her class representative side and attempt to solve the debate peacefully and with minimum phone calls to the police.
Shizune feigns interest in her fluffy, baked meal as she eyes her blonde rival like an expectant piano teacher who also happens to be a hawk. She knows as well as I that breaking up a fight, be it verbal or physical, involving Jigoro is like dangling your scrotum over an anthill whilst attending a Blood on the Dance Floor concert. It’s painful to all senses, is what I’m getting at. Shizune doesn't care, though. Just once she wants to see the saintly nature of her rival be her downfall.
Wrath. Just one more thing she has in common with my father.
Eventually things settle down between my father and the Mr. and Mrs. Old Vietnamese Couple, reassuring Lilly that she needn’t interfere, at least for now. Much to Shizune’s discomfort, Lilly chooses the spot next to her to indulge in her sugary confections.
Jigoro returns to rest around the ashen and smoldered campfire, displeasure evident in his body language.
“Fuckin’ old bastards, think they own the campground! I bet that guys prostate’s the size of a regulation bocce ball!” he yells, just loud enough so it can chase after the departing antagonists.
Hearing talk of an old man’s rectal organs isn’t the most appealing breakfast talk, so I reluctantly push aside the last quarter of my flapjack and watch helplessly as Misha devours it.
The obnoxious clanging of a cooking pot brings us all to attention.
“Alright, here’s the gameplan for today, folks!” Jigoro barks, channeling Patton in front of the American flag. “We’re going hiking! And not some fruity, osteoporosis commercial hiking either, I’m talking real, manly man hiking! If you see a bear, don’t run! Challenge it! They’ll respect you for that.”
Misha raises her hand and begins to speak through a mouthful of flapjack. “Do bears really know about respect?”
“Of course they do, pink girl! Then again, I’m sure you kids wouldn’t know that, considering the only time you all step away from your Applebooks is to go out and loiter at some seedy internet cafe and shit your pants about how great it is to spend half your paycheck on strawberry flavored water!”
Long, emphatic slurping can be clearly heard out of my left ear. Akira’s either practicing her venom sucking technique or is attempting to not respond to the stupidity of my father. Both are viable, I’d say.
“A hike sounds nice, actually. It feels wonderful today,” muses Lilly, the desperation to keep things cordial written clearly on her face.
Jigoro beams proudly. “Well said, Lilly! Good to know someone around here appreciates the great outdoors! Now, we’ll be leaving within the hour, so get your stuff together and get ready for some manly-hiking!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Flashlight. Check.
Compass. Check.
Baggy of Count Chocula. Check.
I’d say I’m all set to go out. I can’t say the same for the rest of the camp, unfortunately.
Shizune’s just finished explaining (in her own special way) that no one in the history of ever has needed an Adele album to survive in the wilderness, unless one of the rabid bears just went through a bitter divorce and needed someone to relate to. Even then, they’d probably be better off going with Frank Ocean.
Lilly looks... good. Well, more than good, but if I began to describe how good she looks right now I’d be here all day. Her khaki short-shorts and plain white tank top nicely accentuate the healthy curves on her body. I’m honestly a bit surprised that her clothes are so...revealing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wearing less than a sweater and long skirt, even during the summer months.
I guess the point I’m trying to make here is holy shit her thighs are fucking gorgeous goddamn it’s like looking at long, soft pearls you just wanna rub your face against oh my god I’m going to--
…...
Ahem. Like I said. She looks good.
“Hey now, I hope you’re not eyeing my sister up you little sneak!” Akira laughs, smacking her hand against my shoulder.
Fuck. I’ve been discovered. By Akira of all people! Oh God, if only I had a defense mechanism right now! Wait, turkey vultures crap on their feet to keep cool, but I imagine it’d be a great defense mechanism as well. Who would want to talk to a guy with poop on his feet, right? Well, unless you’re in Mississippi, but even then--
“... Hideaki?”
--it’s probably frowned upon, at least in public. Ah, forget it. Not only would it be needlessly messy, but I haven’t even eaten anything today.
“You alright kid? You like like you’re contemplating pooping on your feet, or something...”
“Perfectly fine!” I answer with a sincere, genuine smile.
“... Are you growling at me?”
I need to work on my smile.
“WE’RE MOVING OUT!” bellows a large shrub in hiking boots. I’m not making that part up, though I wish I was.
“Jigocchan, why are you dressed like a bush?” asks Misha.
“Dammit pink girl, once again your ignorance disappoints me! This is a full tactical ghillie suit, made specifically for survival in the harshest and most demanding of environments!”
I try to take what he’s saying seriously, I really am. But seeing my father’s scowling face obscured by a full bush costume is enough to bring on the laughter. Well, it would if I wasn’t still self-conscious about my weird smile.
“You look like a full tactical jackass. We’re going for a hike, not joining the Spetsnaz!”
It wasn’t a matter of if Akira would antagonize Jigoro. Merely a matter of when.
The perpetually agitated face of Jigoro only gets more agitated-y. Once again, the added feature of the giant shrub costume really just makes the whole thing funny.
“It’s that kind of attitude that’s going to bring this country to its knees! ‘Ohhh, why do things to the fullest when we can just stick our thumbs up our assholes and skirt through everything in life!’ For my sake I hope I don’t end up with someone like you at my next prostate exam!”
With that, he stomps off, his leaves swaying back and forth like a sassy little army of Queen Latifah’s. Was that ‘thumb up the asshole’ quip a pun? It may be, but I don’t want to give my father too much credit.
A light (but firm) tug at my shoulder distracts me from any more inner monologues.
[Why is he dressed like a bush?] asks my sister.
I shake my head woefully, like one would when discussing a long dead relative.
[He has lost his way. He knows no other path. He must take his vengeance against a society that has wronged him. He is Bushman. He is the night.]
[Hideaki?]
[Yeah?]
[Shut up.]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Let’s see, I have repellant, a flashlight, some bandages...huh, that’s strange. I don’t remember putting my underwear in this bag.”
Off in the distance I hear a distinctly hushed and baleful laugh that could only come from one blue-haired deaf girl. Something tells me that’s not Lilly’s underwear. Something also tells me chloroform is involved somehow.
After a final inventory check, we make our ways towards the forest entrance, leaving the safety and comfort...yeah, I can’t finish that sentence. We left the campsite and now we’re heading into what may be, at least for one of us, our gravesite.
And dad’s still wearing that fucking bush outfit.
“Jigocchan, how long will we be going out for?” Misha whines, hopping on one foot as she attempts to dislodge a pebble from her shoe.
Dad cranes his neck around (at least I think he did, I saw some leaves rustle) to answer her.
“We’ll be done with our hike when I’m confident that all of you have grown to respect the mighty force of nature!”
Akira tilts her head upward, calculating mentally. “So, like, an hour?”
“Give or take, I want to get back before Bonanza starts...”
The further we head into the forest, the more serene it grows. Cool air tickles the hair on my arms and brings everyone in the general vicinity a few inches closer.
Misha is parked right beside Shizune as usual, pointing out wondrous sights such as birds wallowing in a nearby stream, a trio of rabbits crossing the road, and a squirrel eating its own feces. It’s good that Shizune is paying attention to her, because she would probably go on another rant if she saw Lilly. The blonde is walking as though she stepped out of a fairy tale, her blonde hair flowing behind her in a scene that even I admit is a bit cliche. Of course, the ever-present figure of Akira is nearby, leading her arm in arm and describing all the wondrous scenes happening around her. All the while, Lilly has a smile on her face.
No snarky jokes here. This really is an enjoyable moment.
“Hey, Hideaki?”
Hearing her voice only makes it sweeter. “Yes, Lilly?”
Akira’s watching me. She’s not trying her hardest to hide it, either. I think she wants me to know. She wants me to be afraid. Or nervous. Nervously afraid.
“Have you ever heard the legend of this area?”
Something about her smile weirds me out. It’s so unlike her. It’s so...puckish.
“No, I can’t say that I have.”
The smile on her face brightens, evidently giddy that she’ll be able to tell her tale.
“Well,” she begins, tilting on the balls of her feet as she walks. “I’ve heard people say that, in this area, there have been sightings of a creature called ‘The Deer Man of Dark Woods,’ or just ‘Deer Man’ for short.”
“Deer Man?”
“Oh yes! Legend has it that a prisoner escaped into these woods almost twenty years ago. No one was ever able to catch him, and the evidence they found for him being there were the bodies of deer, their blood drained from their bodies. The more he drank, they said, the more animalistic he became, until he turned into a monstrous half-man, half-animal abomination. It’s all quite lovely, no?”
I’m taken aback at just how morbid Lilly’s tale has turned out to be. I didn’t figure her to be the type for horror stories, let alone ones about blood-sucking psychopaths hiding out in the woods.
“It’s nice, though have to admit, I didn’t expect you to be one for that kind of stuff...”
“Yes, “ she blushes. “It’s a secret pleasure of mine, really. Of course, all the more gory details I prefer to gloss over, but something about the thrill of being scared is...exhilarating!”
The look on Lilly’s face as she dotes over her secret delight is an endearing one. It even brings a smile to the disgruntled Akira.
A fleeting blur, like a running animal, catches my eye and makes my heart skip a beat. At first I think it’s an animal, but of what little I saw, it seemed much taller than the creatures in this forest, at least the ones that can move that fast.
“Did you see some something, Hidecchan?” asks Misha, though judging by the look Shizune’s giving me, the question might be on her mind as well.
“No, no, just... stretching my neck,” I lie.
My explanation is odd, but they seem to buy it. Or maybe they just don’t want to talk to me and would rather watch a couple geckos fornicating. Such is life.
After a few more minutes of hiking I catch yet another glimpse of the mysterious animal. This time, my view is slightly clearer. It was tall. Wearing something green. Could've sworn there was some black on top...was it a human? Maybe someone out for an off-the-trail run?
… Or a Deer Man?
Oh, wow, Hideaki. Way to be scared of some stupid ghost story. How can you be afraid of anything Lilly tells you? She could be reading Mein Kampf and make it sound like a bedtime story! You’re just being irrational, is all it is.
Still, I can’t shake the goosebumps from forming on my body. In the unlikely event that we all fall victim to a crazed, antler-wearing deer monster, I doubt we’ll stand much of a chance. Presumably Deer Man’s undergone a rigorous exercise program from two decades in the forest. Meanwhile, we have a semi-retarded pink-haired girl, a paranoid deaf girl, a blind girl (who Deer Man will probably take as a wife or something), an andro who’ll need a cigarette in a few minutes, me, and a bush. The aforementioned bush didn’t even bring a katana, which for the first time in his life would have actually come in handy.
We’re fucked.
Well, at least we’re not going to do something stupid like--
“Hey Jigocchan, Shizune and I are going to check out the lake over there, we’ll be back in a little while!”
“HOLD IT! I’ll go with you! I never miss the chance to see a fish die! Also I don’t trust the two of you to not have any heated lesbian encounters. Akira, take Lilly and Hideaki and... I don’t know, look at trees. Well, not “look” but, yeah... You know what, just get out of here.”
Welp.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Goddamn fucking wrinkly-balled old bastard, first thing I’m gonna do back at camp is down a long neck and break it off in his fucking eye... Lilly, you still have your compass?”
The tall blonde jumps at the harsh tone of her sisters words. She begins rummaging through her bad in search for her compass, perhaps a bit more hasty than needed.
“Thanks... and sorry for yelling. I’m serious about that drink though.”
That last part brings an understanding smile to both of their faces. Unfortunately, smiles won’t help us find our way back to camp. After about ten minutes we all three realized that hearing the sweet sounds of millions of small animals trying to get laid just wasn’t for us. Along the way, we got lost, and as can be expected, none of us are particularly thrilled about this development. Aside from a strained lip, however, I haven’t seen any outward signs of displeasure from Lilly. Akira, on the other hand...
“GODDAMN BIRDS, FLY DOWN HERE SO I CAN SHOVE THIS SHIT YOU JUST DROPPED ON MY SHOES RIGHT BACK UP YOUR--”
“Akira, please! We won’t find our way back to camp any quicker if you do nothing but yell and curse!” Lilly says, her voice firm like that of a headmaster at a school for wizards.
Taken aback by her sisters tone, Akira wisely halts her grumbling and looks down at Lilly’s compass.
“We still have a little ways to go northeast. I’d say about...twenty minutes.”
Lilly nods, a bit disappointed by the news. “Very well, I suppose we should keep moving then... Hideaki? Would you mind not crumpling those leaves? They’re hurting my ears.”
Seeing as how I’m a good ways away from any leaf piles, I can only stare in perplexion.
“I’m not stepping on any leaves, Lilly.”
“Huh, that’s strange, I could have sworn I heard--”
THWACK.
An explosion of bark and leaves emerges from the nearby woodlands like a bullet, sending the three of us flailing backwards onto our backsides. Just from getting a quick look at him, I recognize him as the mysterious blur I’ve been seeing since we left the camp.
I can’t make out his face, but I can certainly make out his garb. He’s donned a dress style that would make Rambo proud. Well, if Rambo were about a hundred pounds lighter and paler. Did I say proud? I meant disappointed. Disappointed and more than a little sad.
The only thing threatening about him is the burning glare coming off of his thick glasses.
That and the crossbow in my face. From the dark recesses of his camouflage hood, I hear a voice emanate.
“TRICK OR TREAT, FAGGOTS!”
To Be Continued
Anyway, enjoy and please leave a comment so I don't think I suck.
Campology Part 2: Thunderous Boogaloo of Manliness
This isn’t a morning. Mornings are serene, tranquil. They’re a time to reflect and prepare for the adversities of the day ahead. A beautiful, ethereal note for an otherwise chaotic and broken melody.
Not this morning. This is a Hakamichi morning. Hakamichi mornings in the great outdoors consist more of random people screaming in Vietnamese while my father makes an admirable effort to worsen the situation with all of his might.
It’s just as hellish on my eyes as on my ears. Let’s take note, shall we?
We have the always key essential ingredient of my father in his “10,000 yen boxers” cooking up a potential forest fire with defective outdoor cooking ware he refuses to replace. Of course we have the loud, old Vietnamese couple (it’s always a Vietnamese couple) insisting that the runoff from his burning styrofoam (in reality, flapjacks) has driven off a grazing herd of deer near their campsite. Luckily I took that Vietnamese class in school to avoid this egregious plothole.
At this point, dear readers, my father can simply settle this matter amicably and agree to not cook three pounds on flapjacks at once and potentially cause the death of the indigenous deer via smoke inhalation. But they have made a critical error, my friends.
They’ve underestimated the potential my father has to be, for want of a better word, a dickhole.
A highly opinionated dickhole.
Jigoro is insistent that he had nothing to do with driving those deer off. Not because it’s wrong, but because if he really wanted to kill some deer he wouldn’t go about it “like some circle jerking French people in the feminine hygiene section,” he would kill them as nature intended. With a rock. A heavy rock.
The husband yells out something in Vietnamese that I can’t seem to place, but it sure sounds risque.
“Hey, take your goddamn complaints to Jane Fonda, cause I frankly could care less!”
“It’s ‘couldn’t’ dad.”
“Shut up, Hideaki!”
Poor Lilly. She seems to be torn on what course of action to take. On one hand, she can take a seat and indulge in a semi-burnt flapjack along with the rest of us, and on the other she can tap into her class representative side and attempt to solve the debate peacefully and with minimum phone calls to the police.
Shizune feigns interest in her fluffy, baked meal as she eyes her blonde rival like an expectant piano teacher who also happens to be a hawk. She knows as well as I that breaking up a fight, be it verbal or physical, involving Jigoro is like dangling your scrotum over an anthill whilst attending a Blood on the Dance Floor concert. It’s painful to all senses, is what I’m getting at. Shizune doesn't care, though. Just once she wants to see the saintly nature of her rival be her downfall.
Wrath. Just one more thing she has in common with my father.
Eventually things settle down between my father and the Mr. and Mrs. Old Vietnamese Couple, reassuring Lilly that she needn’t interfere, at least for now. Much to Shizune’s discomfort, Lilly chooses the spot next to her to indulge in her sugary confections.
Jigoro returns to rest around the ashen and smoldered campfire, displeasure evident in his body language.
“Fuckin’ old bastards, think they own the campground! I bet that guys prostate’s the size of a regulation bocce ball!” he yells, just loud enough so it can chase after the departing antagonists.
Hearing talk of an old man’s rectal organs isn’t the most appealing breakfast talk, so I reluctantly push aside the last quarter of my flapjack and watch helplessly as Misha devours it.
The obnoxious clanging of a cooking pot brings us all to attention.
“Alright, here’s the gameplan for today, folks!” Jigoro barks, channeling Patton in front of the American flag. “We’re going hiking! And not some fruity, osteoporosis commercial hiking either, I’m talking real, manly man hiking! If you see a bear, don’t run! Challenge it! They’ll respect you for that.”
Misha raises her hand and begins to speak through a mouthful of flapjack. “Do bears really know about respect?”
“Of course they do, pink girl! Then again, I’m sure you kids wouldn’t know that, considering the only time you all step away from your Applebooks is to go out and loiter at some seedy internet cafe and shit your pants about how great it is to spend half your paycheck on strawberry flavored water!”
Long, emphatic slurping can be clearly heard out of my left ear. Akira’s either practicing her venom sucking technique or is attempting to not respond to the stupidity of my father. Both are viable, I’d say.
“A hike sounds nice, actually. It feels wonderful today,” muses Lilly, the desperation to keep things cordial written clearly on her face.
Jigoro beams proudly. “Well said, Lilly! Good to know someone around here appreciates the great outdoors! Now, we’ll be leaving within the hour, so get your stuff together and get ready for some manly-hiking!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Flashlight. Check.
Compass. Check.
Baggy of Count Chocula. Check.
I’d say I’m all set to go out. I can’t say the same for the rest of the camp, unfortunately.
Shizune’s just finished explaining (in her own special way) that no one in the history of ever has needed an Adele album to survive in the wilderness, unless one of the rabid bears just went through a bitter divorce and needed someone to relate to. Even then, they’d probably be better off going with Frank Ocean.
Lilly looks... good. Well, more than good, but if I began to describe how good she looks right now I’d be here all day. Her khaki short-shorts and plain white tank top nicely accentuate the healthy curves on her body. I’m honestly a bit surprised that her clothes are so...revealing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wearing less than a sweater and long skirt, even during the summer months.
I guess the point I’m trying to make here is holy shit her thighs are fucking gorgeous goddamn it’s like looking at long, soft pearls you just wanna rub your face against oh my god I’m going to--
…...
Ahem. Like I said. She looks good.
“Hey now, I hope you’re not eyeing my sister up you little sneak!” Akira laughs, smacking her hand against my shoulder.
Fuck. I’ve been discovered. By Akira of all people! Oh God, if only I had a defense mechanism right now! Wait, turkey vultures crap on their feet to keep cool, but I imagine it’d be a great defense mechanism as well. Who would want to talk to a guy with poop on his feet, right? Well, unless you’re in Mississippi, but even then--
“... Hideaki?”
--it’s probably frowned upon, at least in public. Ah, forget it. Not only would it be needlessly messy, but I haven’t even eaten anything today.
“You alright kid? You like like you’re contemplating pooping on your feet, or something...”
“Perfectly fine!” I answer with a sincere, genuine smile.
“... Are you growling at me?”
I need to work on my smile.
“WE’RE MOVING OUT!” bellows a large shrub in hiking boots. I’m not making that part up, though I wish I was.
“Jigocchan, why are you dressed like a bush?” asks Misha.
“Dammit pink girl, once again your ignorance disappoints me! This is a full tactical ghillie suit, made specifically for survival in the harshest and most demanding of environments!”
I try to take what he’s saying seriously, I really am. But seeing my father’s scowling face obscured by a full bush costume is enough to bring on the laughter. Well, it would if I wasn’t still self-conscious about my weird smile.
“You look like a full tactical jackass. We’re going for a hike, not joining the Spetsnaz!”
It wasn’t a matter of if Akira would antagonize Jigoro. Merely a matter of when.
The perpetually agitated face of Jigoro only gets more agitated-y. Once again, the added feature of the giant shrub costume really just makes the whole thing funny.
“It’s that kind of attitude that’s going to bring this country to its knees! ‘Ohhh, why do things to the fullest when we can just stick our thumbs up our assholes and skirt through everything in life!’ For my sake I hope I don’t end up with someone like you at my next prostate exam!”
With that, he stomps off, his leaves swaying back and forth like a sassy little army of Queen Latifah’s. Was that ‘thumb up the asshole’ quip a pun? It may be, but I don’t want to give my father too much credit.
A light (but firm) tug at my shoulder distracts me from any more inner monologues.
[Why is he dressed like a bush?] asks my sister.
I shake my head woefully, like one would when discussing a long dead relative.
[He has lost his way. He knows no other path. He must take his vengeance against a society that has wronged him. He is Bushman. He is the night.]
[Hideaki?]
[Yeah?]
[Shut up.]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Let’s see, I have repellant, a flashlight, some bandages...huh, that’s strange. I don’t remember putting my underwear in this bag.”
Off in the distance I hear a distinctly hushed and baleful laugh that could only come from one blue-haired deaf girl. Something tells me that’s not Lilly’s underwear. Something also tells me chloroform is involved somehow.
After a final inventory check, we make our ways towards the forest entrance, leaving the safety and comfort...yeah, I can’t finish that sentence. We left the campsite and now we’re heading into what may be, at least for one of us, our gravesite.
And dad’s still wearing that fucking bush outfit.
“Jigocchan, how long will we be going out for?” Misha whines, hopping on one foot as she attempts to dislodge a pebble from her shoe.
Dad cranes his neck around (at least I think he did, I saw some leaves rustle) to answer her.
“We’ll be done with our hike when I’m confident that all of you have grown to respect the mighty force of nature!”
Akira tilts her head upward, calculating mentally. “So, like, an hour?”
“Give or take, I want to get back before Bonanza starts...”
The further we head into the forest, the more serene it grows. Cool air tickles the hair on my arms and brings everyone in the general vicinity a few inches closer.
Misha is parked right beside Shizune as usual, pointing out wondrous sights such as birds wallowing in a nearby stream, a trio of rabbits crossing the road, and a squirrel eating its own feces. It’s good that Shizune is paying attention to her, because she would probably go on another rant if she saw Lilly. The blonde is walking as though she stepped out of a fairy tale, her blonde hair flowing behind her in a scene that even I admit is a bit cliche. Of course, the ever-present figure of Akira is nearby, leading her arm in arm and describing all the wondrous scenes happening around her. All the while, Lilly has a smile on her face.
No snarky jokes here. This really is an enjoyable moment.
“Hey, Hideaki?”
Hearing her voice only makes it sweeter. “Yes, Lilly?”
Akira’s watching me. She’s not trying her hardest to hide it, either. I think she wants me to know. She wants me to be afraid. Or nervous. Nervously afraid.
“Have you ever heard the legend of this area?”
Something about her smile weirds me out. It’s so unlike her. It’s so...puckish.
“No, I can’t say that I have.”
The smile on her face brightens, evidently giddy that she’ll be able to tell her tale.
“Well,” she begins, tilting on the balls of her feet as she walks. “I’ve heard people say that, in this area, there have been sightings of a creature called ‘The Deer Man of Dark Woods,’ or just ‘Deer Man’ for short.”
“Deer Man?”
“Oh yes! Legend has it that a prisoner escaped into these woods almost twenty years ago. No one was ever able to catch him, and the evidence they found for him being there were the bodies of deer, their blood drained from their bodies. The more he drank, they said, the more animalistic he became, until he turned into a monstrous half-man, half-animal abomination. It’s all quite lovely, no?”
I’m taken aback at just how morbid Lilly’s tale has turned out to be. I didn’t figure her to be the type for horror stories, let alone ones about blood-sucking psychopaths hiding out in the woods.
“It’s nice, though have to admit, I didn’t expect you to be one for that kind of stuff...”
“Yes, “ she blushes. “It’s a secret pleasure of mine, really. Of course, all the more gory details I prefer to gloss over, but something about the thrill of being scared is...exhilarating!”
The look on Lilly’s face as she dotes over her secret delight is an endearing one. It even brings a smile to the disgruntled Akira.
A fleeting blur, like a running animal, catches my eye and makes my heart skip a beat. At first I think it’s an animal, but of what little I saw, it seemed much taller than the creatures in this forest, at least the ones that can move that fast.
“Did you see some something, Hidecchan?” asks Misha, though judging by the look Shizune’s giving me, the question might be on her mind as well.
“No, no, just... stretching my neck,” I lie.
My explanation is odd, but they seem to buy it. Or maybe they just don’t want to talk to me and would rather watch a couple geckos fornicating. Such is life.
After a few more minutes of hiking I catch yet another glimpse of the mysterious animal. This time, my view is slightly clearer. It was tall. Wearing something green. Could've sworn there was some black on top...was it a human? Maybe someone out for an off-the-trail run?
… Or a Deer Man?
Oh, wow, Hideaki. Way to be scared of some stupid ghost story. How can you be afraid of anything Lilly tells you? She could be reading Mein Kampf and make it sound like a bedtime story! You’re just being irrational, is all it is.
Still, I can’t shake the goosebumps from forming on my body. In the unlikely event that we all fall victim to a crazed, antler-wearing deer monster, I doubt we’ll stand much of a chance. Presumably Deer Man’s undergone a rigorous exercise program from two decades in the forest. Meanwhile, we have a semi-retarded pink-haired girl, a paranoid deaf girl, a blind girl (who Deer Man will probably take as a wife or something), an andro who’ll need a cigarette in a few minutes, me, and a bush. The aforementioned bush didn’t even bring a katana, which for the first time in his life would have actually come in handy.
We’re fucked.
Well, at least we’re not going to do something stupid like--
“Hey Jigocchan, Shizune and I are going to check out the lake over there, we’ll be back in a little while!”
“HOLD IT! I’ll go with you! I never miss the chance to see a fish die! Also I don’t trust the two of you to not have any heated lesbian encounters. Akira, take Lilly and Hideaki and... I don’t know, look at trees. Well, not “look” but, yeah... You know what, just get out of here.”
Welp.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Goddamn fucking wrinkly-balled old bastard, first thing I’m gonna do back at camp is down a long neck and break it off in his fucking eye... Lilly, you still have your compass?”
The tall blonde jumps at the harsh tone of her sisters words. She begins rummaging through her bad in search for her compass, perhaps a bit more hasty than needed.
“Thanks... and sorry for yelling. I’m serious about that drink though.”
That last part brings an understanding smile to both of their faces. Unfortunately, smiles won’t help us find our way back to camp. After about ten minutes we all three realized that hearing the sweet sounds of millions of small animals trying to get laid just wasn’t for us. Along the way, we got lost, and as can be expected, none of us are particularly thrilled about this development. Aside from a strained lip, however, I haven’t seen any outward signs of displeasure from Lilly. Akira, on the other hand...
“GODDAMN BIRDS, FLY DOWN HERE SO I CAN SHOVE THIS SHIT YOU JUST DROPPED ON MY SHOES RIGHT BACK UP YOUR--”
“Akira, please! We won’t find our way back to camp any quicker if you do nothing but yell and curse!” Lilly says, her voice firm like that of a headmaster at a school for wizards.
Taken aback by her sisters tone, Akira wisely halts her grumbling and looks down at Lilly’s compass.
“We still have a little ways to go northeast. I’d say about...twenty minutes.”
Lilly nods, a bit disappointed by the news. “Very well, I suppose we should keep moving then... Hideaki? Would you mind not crumpling those leaves? They’re hurting my ears.”
Seeing as how I’m a good ways away from any leaf piles, I can only stare in perplexion.
“I’m not stepping on any leaves, Lilly.”
“Huh, that’s strange, I could have sworn I heard--”
THWACK.
An explosion of bark and leaves emerges from the nearby woodlands like a bullet, sending the three of us flailing backwards onto our backsides. Just from getting a quick look at him, I recognize him as the mysterious blur I’ve been seeing since we left the camp.
I can’t make out his face, but I can certainly make out his garb. He’s donned a dress style that would make Rambo proud. Well, if Rambo were about a hundred pounds lighter and paler. Did I say proud? I meant disappointed. Disappointed and more than a little sad.
The only thing threatening about him is the burning glare coming off of his thick glasses.
That and the crossbow in my face. From the dark recesses of his camouflage hood, I hear a voice emanate.
“TRICK OR TREAT, FAGGOTS!”
To Be Continued
Last edited by DanjaDoom on Fri Apr 11, 2014 9:48 pm, edited 2 times in total.
My fine literary endeavors: Real, M&M, Rat Race, and Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness. Feel free to stroke my ego and read them.
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey-Sanic
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey-Sanic
Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
Holy frak, that was hilarious!
You've also expanded my music knowledge, so plus there as well
You've also expanded my music knowledge, so plus there as well
YES!“TRICK OR TREAT, FAGGOTS!”
"Who are you, that do not know your history?" -Ulysses
Misha Time: United States of Misha Meet the Hakamichis
Awesome, served on the rocks: Hisao and Kenji- Master Detectives! (Check out the Archive for more!)
I wrote a book! Brythain edited it! If you like mystery and history please consider: A Sister's Habit
"You are absolutely insane. And entertaining." -griffon8
Misha Time: United States of Misha Meet the Hakamichis
Awesome, served on the rocks: Hisao and Kenji- Master Detectives! (Check out the Archive for more!)
I wrote a book! Brythain edited it! If you like mystery and history please consider: A Sister's Habit
"You are absolutely insane. And entertaining." -griffon8
-
OtakuNinja
- Posts: 1478
- Joined: Sat Jun 16, 2012 10:42 pm
- Location: Sweden
- Contact:
Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
Nice, but a little hard to follow at some points.
HOLD IT! I’ll go with you! I never miss the chance to see a fish die! Also I don’t trust the two of you to not have any heated lesbian encounters.
Emibro, Hanabro, [Lilly Lover], Rin Kin, Feminist, Two-timer
(Passively working on my KS YouTube series. Someday...)
Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
I may as well have written the entire entry around that one lineHoitash wrote:Holy frak, that was hilarious!
You've also expanded my music knowledge, so plus there as well
YES!“TRICK OR TREAT, FAGGOTS!”
Campology Part Two: Why Kenji thinks you're a faggot
My fine literary endeavors: Real, M&M, Rat Race, and Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness. Feel free to stroke my ego and read them.
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey-Sanic
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey-Sanic
Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
It was a pretty deep story, I knowOtakuNinja wrote:Nice, but a little hard to follow at some points.
HOLD IT! I’ll go with you! I never miss the chance to see a fish die! Also I don’t trust the two of you to not have any heated lesbian encounters.
At his heart, what is Jigoro but a concerned father?
My fine literary endeavors: Real, M&M, Rat Race, and Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness. Feel free to stroke my ego and read them.
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey-Sanic
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey-Sanic
Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
This right here; this made me lose my shit.DanjaDoom wrote:[He has lost his way. He knows no other path. He must take his vengeance against a society that has wronged him. He is Bushman. He is the night.]
[Hideaki?]
[Yeah?]
[Shut up.]
After reading the last line, and realizing who the Deer-Man is, this snippet here became the most frightening sentence in the entire story.a blind girl (who Deer Man will probably take as a wife or something)
-
OtakuNinja
- Posts: 1478
- Joined: Sat Jun 16, 2012 10:42 pm
- Location: Sweden
- Contact:
Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
I agree.Helbereth wrote:After reading the last line, this snippet here became the most frightening sentence in the entire story.a blind girl (who Deer Man will probably take as a wife or something)
Emibro, Hanabro, [Lilly Lover], Rin Kin, Feminist, Two-timer
(Passively working on my KS YouTube series. Someday...)
Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
Weeell, about the Deer Man....eh, I'll explain it in the next part.Helbereth wrote:This right here; this made me lose my shit.DanjaDoom wrote:[He has lost his way. He knows no other path. He must take his vengeance against a society that has wronged him. He is Bushman. He is the night.]
[Hideaki?]
[Yeah?]
[Shut up.]
After reading the last line, and realizing who the Deer-Man is, this snippet here became the most frightening sentence in the entire story.a blind girl (who Deer Man will probably take as a wife or something)
But I appreciate your continued laughter
My fine literary endeavors: Real, M&M, Rat Race, and Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness. Feel free to stroke my ego and read them.
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey-Sanic
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey-Sanic
Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
Welp, ain't this something.
I have a cold, I have to wake up at six tomorrow, and I'm writing cripple girl fanfiction.
You can all thank me later.
Campology Part 3: Return of the Kenji
Think, Hideaki, think! What did dad tell you to do if you find yourself in a hostage situation?
“If they ask you my net worth, slash off a couple million, alright?”
Something else besides that, I’m sure...
“If push comes to shove rubbing excrement on yourself is a reliable method of keeping away three out of four of all potential assailants away. I should know, I watched Dr.Oz the other day.”
Well, that explains that turkey vulture idea I had earlier. There has to be something else...
“Who the hell would want to keep a manlet like you around?”
Well, that’s thoroughly depressing. No wonder I shoved that memory on the backburner.
Speaking of back--
“KEEP MOVING, FEMINIST SABOTEUR!”
Yes, that guy. The anorexic Rambo impersonator. With a crossbow.
Anyway, the joke is he has a crossbow to my back. I don't know what he’s doing here, why he has a crossbow, or why I’m making a stupid joke in the process of being kidnapped and/or being beheaded by a rusty machete.
The most likely explanation is my body has shifted to full on humor mode to fight off the fact that we're about a mile from the nearest camp and I’m one startling noise away from evacuating my bowels.
“Just to let you know, fucker, I can have the cops down here before you can even blink! If I were you I’d let us go right now before you have to start picking pine cones out of your urethra!” Akira barks, hovering close to a frightened Lilly.
Aside from an involuntary twitch at that urethra comment (I did the same) our assailant says nothing, instead taking a moment to adjust the glasses perched on bridge of his nose. I swear, those things are like petri dishes taped to shaved pipe cleaners.
We reach his lair, if you can call it that, a little while later. Considering it’s location, it’s an impressive sight. A cheap television, assorted lawn chairs, a “Free Weezy” poster. The whole works. He even has a quaint little work bench where he can filet my skin into a pair of overalls.
“Get against the wall, usurpers!” he barks.
We cooperate, Akira about as begrudgingly as can be expected.
“Why the hell do you keep calling us that?” she asks, assisting Lilly as they both take a seat against the makeshift shack.
For the first time since we’ve seen him, the mysterious stranger removes the ridiculous tangle atop his head. He refuses to remove his eyeglasses, but we can at least make out his hair. It looks like he used it to put out a grease fire, in every possible way you can interpret that phrase.
“It’s funny, really. Hunting down the feminist horde wasn’t on my agenda for this weekend. This was supposed to be a simple recon mission. But it appears trouble follows the path of the hero wherever he may go! No matter. Come whatever may, I mustn't let the foundations of manhood lax at any moment of any day! That is my bushido. I must uphold it. Or I shall cease to be...”
“... Are you on medication?”
“THE ONLY MEDICATION I NEED IS MANCATION!”
Not long after he finishes saying this, I see him hurriedly toss what appears a white bottle out of sight.
“On the other hand,” he continues. “It’s strange that I should find a fellow Yamaku student around here. And one of the leaders of the feminist revolt at that! Strange, indeed...”
Lilly flinches, as if anticipating our eyes shooting towards her.
“You know this freak, sis?” Akira asks.
Uncharacteristically, the blind girl begins to stammer as she offers an explanation. “W-well, ‘know’ is a bit of a stretch, really. His name is Kenji Setou, and, yes, he was a student in the same year as me. He’s always been a bit on the... eccentric side.”
“You call it eccentricity, I call it preparedness! But enough of the past. Allow me to tell you of my plans for the here and now...”
This is it. I’m doomed to die here. No more fond memories of me and my father... wait, no. No more trips to the... dammit. I haven’t done anything in life. Hopefully Lilly won’t be able to smell my tears.
Kenji begins to rummage behind some plywood boards, his activities carefully hidden from our view. Akira has dropped her air of bravado and now seems to be genuinely frightened.
After what seems like hours, he finally reemerges with what looks to be a thick stack of poster boards, meticulously placed one on top of the other. Unless he plans on paper cutting us to death and making a science fair project about it, I don’t see what those are going to do.
He begins to stand them up, one at a time, until he has a full diorama of graphs, newspaper clippings, and baggies of various unknown substances.
“I’m not here to hunt feminists,” he repeats. “In fact, I’m here to hunt a man.The Deer Man!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“More mandarin tea?”
I decline his offer politely, as opposed to Akira, who looks eager to pour boiling hot tea over his private areas. Lilly, though still shaken, just isn't able to resist a finely made cup of tea.
Kenji puts the kettle away on the outdoor cooker and straightens himself out, peering out towards the open woodland sky like a nostalgic old man.
“Two months ago was when I heard the tale of the Deer Man. I was reading the latest edition of Wake Up Sheeple Monthly when I happened upon an editorial all about this region. Something awakened within me. A sense of wonder! Of belonging!”
He seems disappointed that we haven’t been overcome with the same joviality he’s experiencing. Naturally, the only counter to this is for him to experience an ecstasy induced mental breakdown.
“The Deer Man is what every man should strive to be! He lives free, runs through the hills with no fucks given! Not a one! Free, unburdened by the pressures of matriarchal society! At one with the spirits of the savage ancestors!”
If I didn't know any better, I’d think I was seeing the reaction of the first man on Earth to discover free internet porn.
“So, why would you want to hunt him down, then?” Lilly ponders out loud.
“Foolish feminist!” he shouts in offense. “I don’t want to kill him! I want to meet him! To become a pupil under his tutelage! Imagine how much I could learn from him...”
Akira gets to her feet abruptly, dusting herself off and helping Lilly do the same.
“Let me stop you right there, bud. You’re crazy; and not in a dangerous or cool way either, like Jack Nicholson. I mean ‘dress like a baby and get kicked out of Victorias Secret for asking what the inside of a bra smells like’ crazy. Anyway, I’m leaving, and once I get back to camp I’m going to call the delinquency home you busted out of, and have a very tall glass of gin and tonic. See ya.”
“W-wait, you can’t leave! I’m not done telling you my plan yet!”
Lilly turns her head and nods curtly. “It’s been a pleasure, Kenji... actually, it’s been the exact opposite of a pleasure. Still, it was good to talk again.”
He looks to me expectantly, like a kid watching the rest of his friends leave his super cool slumber party because he kept spamming Pikachu in Super Smash Bros.
“So you’re leaving too, then, huh?”
“Well, yes.”
He sighs pathetically. “Fine, fine, I guess I’ll just go on my epic hunt for Deer Man all by my lonesome...”
“You kidnapped me with a crossbow and called me a feminist spy. Probably should have gone about the whole thing a little bit differently if you wanted my help.”
“Maybe,” he sighs. “Fuck it. I knew this idea was stupid.”
He plops down onto a foldable chair nearby, hands held firmly against his face.
“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. I’ve gotta call my mom anyway, she thinks I’m buying Panera bread at the store.”
“For a whole week?”
“Mom’s a little... out there. Anyway, go ahead back to camp. Sorry for the whole ‘kidnapping you’ fiasco.”
As I turn to leave, I experience an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something about this guy, this kid, just seems so... likeable. Deep down, I don’t think he really meant to traumatize us. Maybe that’s just his way of making friends? Maybe he found his first girlfriend by hitting her over the head with a flower pot, I dunno. He reminds me in some ways of my father.
Kind-heartedness hidden under a facade of belligerent antagonism. And bat-shit insanity.
“Hideaki! You coming?”
Akira taps her foot impatiently, swatting away at the gnats congregating around her head. I take a few steps forward, but at the last minute I begin to hesitate. I’ve never felt something like this before. My mind keeps telling me to get away from this potentially fatal insanity while I have the chance. My gut tells me to do the stupidest thing I may ever do in my life. And my feet are the proverbial rope in this game of tug of war.
I take one last look back. He’s beginning to sullenly pack away his poster boards, tossing them aside haphazardly into a pile on the side.
I suppose it couldn’t hurt.
I mean, it could. Alot.
But you never know until you try, right?
“Kenji.”
He brings his reddened eyes up from his hands to meet me. “Yeah?”
I’m an idiot.
“I’ll help you find the Deer Man.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Your cousin was a lot more understanding than I thought she’d be.”
We’ve been making our way through the wooded terrain for a good half-hour. So far, no signs of any suspicious beings, man or otherwise. Kenji insisted on bringing along his crossbow. Apparently in Kenji World shooting people with an arrow is an acceptable opener to negotiations.
“Oh, trust me, it was only because of Lilly holding her back that she didn’t put her fingers up my ass and drag me back to camp.”
My sub-par joke attempt makes him laugh uproariously. “Too funny! Ah, yeah, I remember my cousins and I used to play a game like that! We called it ‘Cave Explorer’, man that brings back some memories, hehe... that’s what cousin’s do, right, put their fingers in each other’s asses?”
“... No?”
“Oh... guess we were pretty special cousins then! Haha... ha.”
This horrendous display of TMI is thankfully cut short by a mysterious sound a kilometer north of us.
“Get down!” Kenji hisses, dropping down into the foliage. I feel my chest begin to tighten as we see a pair of antlers emerge from behind the trees, bobbing through the air like the antennas of an insect. Judging by the pursed lips of Kenji, he’s even more anxious than I am. His fingers dance lightly over the hilt of his crossbow.
The antlers come out from the treeline in a blur. Expectedly, though still to our disappointment, it turns out to be just a regular deer.
“This isn’t working,” Kenji complains, tossing down his backpack and tossing out a plethora of devices I can’t even begin to name.
“If we’re going to find a guy who’s been hidden for twenty years, we’re going to need to bring out the big guns. Here, take this. But don’t bring it too close to your nose!”
He places a clear tube of translucent liquid into my open palm. The faded and torn label on the front reads Uncle Jimminy’s Sunday Surprise. It smells exactly how I imagined something called Uncle Jimminy’s Sunday Surprise would smell.
“Ugh! What the hell is this stuff?” I ask, clamping my nostrils shut in a futile effort to blockade the smell. It’s somehow finding a way to offend every single one of my senses. Yes, even the psychic one.
“Semen from a mangy opossum mixed with a bit of detergent and vat grease from Carl’s Jr. If this stuff doesn’t knock him out, he’s probably an ancient mutated humanoid and we should run away really, really fast.”
“Noted. Where the hell did you find this anyway?”
“Some imageboard thread. It started off talking about hunting tips, then it sort of devolved into them complaining about cartoon ponies. Weird place. Anyway, hold this for me real fast.”
He hands over a hollowed wooden cylinder, with two small holes carved on either end. It’s obviously pretty old, but at least it smells better than the Sunday Surprise.
“So what’s this?”
“A leprechaun flute!” he beams proudly.
I raise my eyebrow. “But we’re hunting Deer Man?”
“Same difference,” he dismisses. “Besides, they were out of Deer Man flutes. This one’ll probably work well though.”
It’s easier to just assume he knows what he’s talking about. He pulls out the final essential item to give him an edge in his hunt for Deer Man. A nondescript potato chip bag, carefully folded and sealed off with a red clip. The possibilities of what it could be rush through my mind. A werewolf hair sample? Mermaid ashes?
“So what’s in there?” I ask.
Kenji glances down to the bag, then back to me, before removing the clip and taking a handful of chips out of it.
“Bag of Lays. I’m hungry.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the late afternoon sun passes over us, my compatriot places the black device closer and closer to his lips, his words emerging weakly from within. He presses record.
“July... Saturday... forgot the day. The hellish grip of the forest continues to weigh on my psyche. Already I see visions of death, cruel death, dancing across the ghoul scapes of my mind. Hideaki... dear Hideaki... how long have we been out in this godforsaken place?”
I check my watch. “About an hour.”
“My god... *cough*... it’s a wonder we haven’t fallen yet. Should our families find this... I just wish to let you all--*cough*--know... I love you. To anyone else who may come across this... tell them. Tell them that we fell not as boys... but as men. As men of great perseverance. As men who still chose to believe. Hideaki... do you have anything to say?”
“I’m going to have some of your chips, alright?”
“Poor boy... I fear he may have already gone. This is Kenji, saying... goodbye. Maybe forever.”
The record button clicks off. Kenji stares at me with disappointment. I don’t care, I’m eating chips.
“Dude!”
“What?”
“Here I am, trying to make a freakin’ Oscar worthy speech and you have to go and fuck it all up! Harsh realm, man, harsh realm!”
“Kenji, I don’t even know what that means.”
“Course you wouldn’t. Bet you ain’t even down with the clown, you lamestain...”
I give up trying to decipher his stupid lingo, opting to instead lounge back on a nearby fallen log. Everything stands still for a little while. Kenji stays prone and ready to strike, no leaves have fallen to the ground, and no birds are chirping in the air. It’s as if the forest itself has stopped to watch us. The image of a bunch of small forest creatures taking bets on which one of us will die first is rather morbidly amusing. For the record, it’ll be Kenji.
Speaking of the Pillsbury dough golem, he continues to spazz out mildly every minute or so whenever a leaf crosses into his vantage point. He’s on the edge of the knife, one gust of wind on the neck away from sending some Korean kid to the hospital.
“See anything yet?” I inquire, doing my best to stifle a yawn.
“Negatory,” he responds robotically.
I glance down at my watch. 6:48.
Crap, wasn't there an episode of True Blood on tonight? Hopefully Lilly and Akira got back to camp already and recorded it. Dad always forge-
“SQUEEEEEEE.”
Instinctively I check under my shoe to see if I stepped on a baby squirrel. It takes but a minute to register that the dying noise came from the over-excited boy next to me.
“It’s HIM!” he squeals again.
Quickly, I stumble to my feet and peek over the fallen log, Kenji uncomfortably close by. Only about a kilometer away in the darkened woods I make out the shape of a gigantic black figure, stumbling hunch-backed along the ground.
“My God, the Deer Man does exist! Kenji, get your camera out man, we need too--why do you have that crossbow?”
He ignores me as he goes to work on his weapon, anointing it with various concoctions and gadgets until it resembles an over-encumbered weather vane. After finishing his Frankenstein monstrosity, he takes aim at the black monstrosity.
“Not to worry, bro! This stuff is a relaxing agent, nothing more. If it works, we’ll have a nice, calm interview with Ellen DeGeneres on our hands.
I can’t help but feel worried now. “And if the sedative doesn’t work?”
“Remember that interview Jim Everett had with Jim Rome back in ‘94?”
“Yeah.”
“Like that. But more bloody.”
“Kenji, I’m seriously asking you to reconsider firing that weapon now...”
“Come on!” he scoffs. “Would my gamertag really be 360xXxD3m0nxXxScop3z if I didn’t know how to fire a weapon properly? Think about it!”
That does little to console me. In fact, now I’m in full on freak-out mode. Luckily I’ve been in that mode a lot today, so now I’m aware of all the precautions I need to take. Namely, getting the fuck out of here.
“Look, Kenji, it’s great that you found the Deer Man and all, but I really don’t think I want to meet him.”
His right eye bulges out as he takes aim through his scope. The crossbow begins to bob up and down sharply, perched and ready to fire at it’s target.
“Whatever, chicken out for all I care! All I know is, I’ve got my prize right in front of me! Manly picnics, here I come!”
The black shape stands fully erect for the first time, the fullness of it’s menacing figure being enough to make even Kenji halt his deranged breathing. Now I’m at least eight-eight percent sure this is going to lead to someone dying.
But on the other hand...
Why does that figure seem so familiar? Are those leaves?”
“No more waiting! No more hunting! The time is now! The time is right! TONIGHT, KENJI SETOU DANCES WITH THE GODS!”
The crossbow begins to creak and whir as Kenji readies a bolt, aimed squarely at the menacing monster. All the while I haven’t taken my eyes off of the Deer Man, if it truly is him. Somehow, I can’t shake the feeling that it's not.
“ONE.”
Wait.
“TWO.
That’s not Deer Man.
“THREE.”
Oh fuck.
“FIYAAAHHHH!”
“KENJI DON’T!”
I’m too late. The bolt rockets past me with incredible speed, finding it’s mark squarely on the ebony figure deep within the woods, causing it’s great mass to leap upwards and elicit a pained howl. I’d recognize that howl anywhere.
“COWARDS! YOU WANT TO SHOOT A MAN IN THE ASS?! COME AND SHOOT ME FACE TO FACE! NOBODY ASSAULTS THE TENDER BACKSIDE OF JIGORO HAKAMICHI AND LIVES!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rest of the hunting trip went quite well, I found.
As can be expected, dad was a little miffed at being shot in the behind by a crazed university student. Thankfully the “toxins” Kenji so liberally applied didn't take effect. The ended up being fakes. They still smelled horrible, but that was the extent of their power.
Eventually, though, once dad cooled down a bit, he turned out to be pretty reasonable. For Kenji’s part, he was truly sorry for accidentally firing at Jigoro, especially when he found out that he was planning to cook bear steaks later.I swear, Kenji's’ eyes were lit up like Christmas lights when he heard of my father's manly exploits. It was like a teenage girl meeting their favorite idol. The fact that they ordered their hunting gear from the same guy in Bulgaria also helped them in reaching an understanding.
So, in the end, dad agreed to not press charges, and Kenji voluntarily left the woods to return back home to his mother.
Now, the sun has finally fallen over the skyline, making way for a majestic sea of stars and moonlight. It’s also a pretty kickass excuse to share a blanket with Lilly in front of the roaring fire. Misha scoots in next to us, her own cocoon of blankets dragging behind her.
Nearby, Akira is snickering heartily over her laptop. Unfortunately, I can’t make out the content in the reflection of her reading glasses (she doesn't actually need them, but they make her feel smart).
“You might want to see this,” she chuckles, passing her computer down the row until it reaches me. It’s a news website.
Earlier today, an unidentified special needs child surrendered himself to local police, making cryptic statements about his “mission being completed,” and asked if officers could take him back to his mothers home.
However, once realizing that a few of the officers were a female, the child became belligerent, cruising and calling the female officers “sugar-tits” and “hellcats.”
He was held in a cell for a few hours, but was later released from imprisonment after he was deemed relatively harmless.
Later on, he requested that the officers stop along the way so he could pick up Panera bread.
I shake my head, a smile cracking my face as I hand Akira back her device. Meanwhile, Shizune’s successfully found a working livestream channel on her notebook.
“Shh! True Blood is starting!” Misha yells giddily.
Despite the pink drill's warning, Lilly leans over into my ear, whispering with her hot breath.
“How have you enjoyed the trip, Hideaki?”
Her voice is so warm it sends shivers up and down my spine. Not even my dad’s pained yelps as he applies IcyHot to his ass can dampen my spirits.
“Pretty good.”
I have a cold, I have to wake up at six tomorrow, and I'm writing cripple girl fanfiction.
You can all thank me later.
Campology Part 3: Return of the Kenji
Think, Hideaki, think! What did dad tell you to do if you find yourself in a hostage situation?
“If they ask you my net worth, slash off a couple million, alright?”
Something else besides that, I’m sure...
“If push comes to shove rubbing excrement on yourself is a reliable method of keeping away three out of four of all potential assailants away. I should know, I watched Dr.Oz the other day.”
Well, that explains that turkey vulture idea I had earlier. There has to be something else...
“Who the hell would want to keep a manlet like you around?”
Well, that’s thoroughly depressing. No wonder I shoved that memory on the backburner.
Speaking of back--
“KEEP MOVING, FEMINIST SABOTEUR!”
Yes, that guy. The anorexic Rambo impersonator. With a crossbow.
Anyway, the joke is he has a crossbow to my back. I don't know what he’s doing here, why he has a crossbow, or why I’m making a stupid joke in the process of being kidnapped and/or being beheaded by a rusty machete.
The most likely explanation is my body has shifted to full on humor mode to fight off the fact that we're about a mile from the nearest camp and I’m one startling noise away from evacuating my bowels.
“Just to let you know, fucker, I can have the cops down here before you can even blink! If I were you I’d let us go right now before you have to start picking pine cones out of your urethra!” Akira barks, hovering close to a frightened Lilly.
Aside from an involuntary twitch at that urethra comment (I did the same) our assailant says nothing, instead taking a moment to adjust the glasses perched on bridge of his nose. I swear, those things are like petri dishes taped to shaved pipe cleaners.
We reach his lair, if you can call it that, a little while later. Considering it’s location, it’s an impressive sight. A cheap television, assorted lawn chairs, a “Free Weezy” poster. The whole works. He even has a quaint little work bench where he can filet my skin into a pair of overalls.
“Get against the wall, usurpers!” he barks.
We cooperate, Akira about as begrudgingly as can be expected.
“Why the hell do you keep calling us that?” she asks, assisting Lilly as they both take a seat against the makeshift shack.
For the first time since we’ve seen him, the mysterious stranger removes the ridiculous tangle atop his head. He refuses to remove his eyeglasses, but we can at least make out his hair. It looks like he used it to put out a grease fire, in every possible way you can interpret that phrase.
“It’s funny, really. Hunting down the feminist horde wasn’t on my agenda for this weekend. This was supposed to be a simple recon mission. But it appears trouble follows the path of the hero wherever he may go! No matter. Come whatever may, I mustn't let the foundations of manhood lax at any moment of any day! That is my bushido. I must uphold it. Or I shall cease to be...”
“... Are you on medication?”
“THE ONLY MEDICATION I NEED IS MANCATION!”
Not long after he finishes saying this, I see him hurriedly toss what appears a white bottle out of sight.
“On the other hand,” he continues. “It’s strange that I should find a fellow Yamaku student around here. And one of the leaders of the feminist revolt at that! Strange, indeed...”
Lilly flinches, as if anticipating our eyes shooting towards her.
“You know this freak, sis?” Akira asks.
Uncharacteristically, the blind girl begins to stammer as she offers an explanation. “W-well, ‘know’ is a bit of a stretch, really. His name is Kenji Setou, and, yes, he was a student in the same year as me. He’s always been a bit on the... eccentric side.”
“You call it eccentricity, I call it preparedness! But enough of the past. Allow me to tell you of my plans for the here and now...”
This is it. I’m doomed to die here. No more fond memories of me and my father... wait, no. No more trips to the... dammit. I haven’t done anything in life. Hopefully Lilly won’t be able to smell my tears.
Kenji begins to rummage behind some plywood boards, his activities carefully hidden from our view. Akira has dropped her air of bravado and now seems to be genuinely frightened.
After what seems like hours, he finally reemerges with what looks to be a thick stack of poster boards, meticulously placed one on top of the other. Unless he plans on paper cutting us to death and making a science fair project about it, I don’t see what those are going to do.
He begins to stand them up, one at a time, until he has a full diorama of graphs, newspaper clippings, and baggies of various unknown substances.
“I’m not here to hunt feminists,” he repeats. “In fact, I’m here to hunt a man.The Deer Man!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“More mandarin tea?”
I decline his offer politely, as opposed to Akira, who looks eager to pour boiling hot tea over his private areas. Lilly, though still shaken, just isn't able to resist a finely made cup of tea.
Kenji puts the kettle away on the outdoor cooker and straightens himself out, peering out towards the open woodland sky like a nostalgic old man.
“Two months ago was when I heard the tale of the Deer Man. I was reading the latest edition of Wake Up Sheeple Monthly when I happened upon an editorial all about this region. Something awakened within me. A sense of wonder! Of belonging!”
He seems disappointed that we haven’t been overcome with the same joviality he’s experiencing. Naturally, the only counter to this is for him to experience an ecstasy induced mental breakdown.
“The Deer Man is what every man should strive to be! He lives free, runs through the hills with no fucks given! Not a one! Free, unburdened by the pressures of matriarchal society! At one with the spirits of the savage ancestors!”
If I didn't know any better, I’d think I was seeing the reaction of the first man on Earth to discover free internet porn.
“So, why would you want to hunt him down, then?” Lilly ponders out loud.
“Foolish feminist!” he shouts in offense. “I don’t want to kill him! I want to meet him! To become a pupil under his tutelage! Imagine how much I could learn from him...”
Akira gets to her feet abruptly, dusting herself off and helping Lilly do the same.
“Let me stop you right there, bud. You’re crazy; and not in a dangerous or cool way either, like Jack Nicholson. I mean ‘dress like a baby and get kicked out of Victorias Secret for asking what the inside of a bra smells like’ crazy. Anyway, I’m leaving, and once I get back to camp I’m going to call the delinquency home you busted out of, and have a very tall glass of gin and tonic. See ya.”
“W-wait, you can’t leave! I’m not done telling you my plan yet!”
Lilly turns her head and nods curtly. “It’s been a pleasure, Kenji... actually, it’s been the exact opposite of a pleasure. Still, it was good to talk again.”
He looks to me expectantly, like a kid watching the rest of his friends leave his super cool slumber party because he kept spamming Pikachu in Super Smash Bros.
“So you’re leaving too, then, huh?”
“Well, yes.”
He sighs pathetically. “Fine, fine, I guess I’ll just go on my epic hunt for Deer Man all by my lonesome...”
“You kidnapped me with a crossbow and called me a feminist spy. Probably should have gone about the whole thing a little bit differently if you wanted my help.”
“Maybe,” he sighs. “Fuck it. I knew this idea was stupid.”
He plops down onto a foldable chair nearby, hands held firmly against his face.
“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. I’ve gotta call my mom anyway, she thinks I’m buying Panera bread at the store.”
“For a whole week?”
“Mom’s a little... out there. Anyway, go ahead back to camp. Sorry for the whole ‘kidnapping you’ fiasco.”
As I turn to leave, I experience an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something about this guy, this kid, just seems so... likeable. Deep down, I don’t think he really meant to traumatize us. Maybe that’s just his way of making friends? Maybe he found his first girlfriend by hitting her over the head with a flower pot, I dunno. He reminds me in some ways of my father.
Kind-heartedness hidden under a facade of belligerent antagonism. And bat-shit insanity.
“Hideaki! You coming?”
Akira taps her foot impatiently, swatting away at the gnats congregating around her head. I take a few steps forward, but at the last minute I begin to hesitate. I’ve never felt something like this before. My mind keeps telling me to get away from this potentially fatal insanity while I have the chance. My gut tells me to do the stupidest thing I may ever do in my life. And my feet are the proverbial rope in this game of tug of war.
I take one last look back. He’s beginning to sullenly pack away his poster boards, tossing them aside haphazardly into a pile on the side.
I suppose it couldn’t hurt.
I mean, it could. Alot.
But you never know until you try, right?
“Kenji.”
He brings his reddened eyes up from his hands to meet me. “Yeah?”
I’m an idiot.
“I’ll help you find the Deer Man.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Your cousin was a lot more understanding than I thought she’d be.”
We’ve been making our way through the wooded terrain for a good half-hour. So far, no signs of any suspicious beings, man or otherwise. Kenji insisted on bringing along his crossbow. Apparently in Kenji World shooting people with an arrow is an acceptable opener to negotiations.
“Oh, trust me, it was only because of Lilly holding her back that she didn’t put her fingers up my ass and drag me back to camp.”
My sub-par joke attempt makes him laugh uproariously. “Too funny! Ah, yeah, I remember my cousins and I used to play a game like that! We called it ‘Cave Explorer’, man that brings back some memories, hehe... that’s what cousin’s do, right, put their fingers in each other’s asses?”
“... No?”
“Oh... guess we were pretty special cousins then! Haha... ha.”
This horrendous display of TMI is thankfully cut short by a mysterious sound a kilometer north of us.
“Get down!” Kenji hisses, dropping down into the foliage. I feel my chest begin to tighten as we see a pair of antlers emerge from behind the trees, bobbing through the air like the antennas of an insect. Judging by the pursed lips of Kenji, he’s even more anxious than I am. His fingers dance lightly over the hilt of his crossbow.
The antlers come out from the treeline in a blur. Expectedly, though still to our disappointment, it turns out to be just a regular deer.
“This isn’t working,” Kenji complains, tossing down his backpack and tossing out a plethora of devices I can’t even begin to name.
“If we’re going to find a guy who’s been hidden for twenty years, we’re going to need to bring out the big guns. Here, take this. But don’t bring it too close to your nose!”
He places a clear tube of translucent liquid into my open palm. The faded and torn label on the front reads Uncle Jimminy’s Sunday Surprise. It smells exactly how I imagined something called Uncle Jimminy’s Sunday Surprise would smell.
“Ugh! What the hell is this stuff?” I ask, clamping my nostrils shut in a futile effort to blockade the smell. It’s somehow finding a way to offend every single one of my senses. Yes, even the psychic one.
“Semen from a mangy opossum mixed with a bit of detergent and vat grease from Carl’s Jr. If this stuff doesn’t knock him out, he’s probably an ancient mutated humanoid and we should run away really, really fast.”
“Noted. Where the hell did you find this anyway?”
“Some imageboard thread. It started off talking about hunting tips, then it sort of devolved into them complaining about cartoon ponies. Weird place. Anyway, hold this for me real fast.”
He hands over a hollowed wooden cylinder, with two small holes carved on either end. It’s obviously pretty old, but at least it smells better than the Sunday Surprise.
“So what’s this?”
“A leprechaun flute!” he beams proudly.
I raise my eyebrow. “But we’re hunting Deer Man?”
“Same difference,” he dismisses. “Besides, they were out of Deer Man flutes. This one’ll probably work well though.”
It’s easier to just assume he knows what he’s talking about. He pulls out the final essential item to give him an edge in his hunt for Deer Man. A nondescript potato chip bag, carefully folded and sealed off with a red clip. The possibilities of what it could be rush through my mind. A werewolf hair sample? Mermaid ashes?
“So what’s in there?” I ask.
Kenji glances down to the bag, then back to me, before removing the clip and taking a handful of chips out of it.
“Bag of Lays. I’m hungry.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the late afternoon sun passes over us, my compatriot places the black device closer and closer to his lips, his words emerging weakly from within. He presses record.
“July... Saturday... forgot the day. The hellish grip of the forest continues to weigh on my psyche. Already I see visions of death, cruel death, dancing across the ghoul scapes of my mind. Hideaki... dear Hideaki... how long have we been out in this godforsaken place?”
I check my watch. “About an hour.”
“My god... *cough*... it’s a wonder we haven’t fallen yet. Should our families find this... I just wish to let you all--*cough*--know... I love you. To anyone else who may come across this... tell them. Tell them that we fell not as boys... but as men. As men of great perseverance. As men who still chose to believe. Hideaki... do you have anything to say?”
“I’m going to have some of your chips, alright?”
“Poor boy... I fear he may have already gone. This is Kenji, saying... goodbye. Maybe forever.”
The record button clicks off. Kenji stares at me with disappointment. I don’t care, I’m eating chips.
“Dude!”
“What?”
“Here I am, trying to make a freakin’ Oscar worthy speech and you have to go and fuck it all up! Harsh realm, man, harsh realm!”
“Kenji, I don’t even know what that means.”
“Course you wouldn’t. Bet you ain’t even down with the clown, you lamestain...”
I give up trying to decipher his stupid lingo, opting to instead lounge back on a nearby fallen log. Everything stands still for a little while. Kenji stays prone and ready to strike, no leaves have fallen to the ground, and no birds are chirping in the air. It’s as if the forest itself has stopped to watch us. The image of a bunch of small forest creatures taking bets on which one of us will die first is rather morbidly amusing. For the record, it’ll be Kenji.
Speaking of the Pillsbury dough golem, he continues to spazz out mildly every minute or so whenever a leaf crosses into his vantage point. He’s on the edge of the knife, one gust of wind on the neck away from sending some Korean kid to the hospital.
“See anything yet?” I inquire, doing my best to stifle a yawn.
“Negatory,” he responds robotically.
I glance down at my watch. 6:48.
Crap, wasn't there an episode of True Blood on tonight? Hopefully Lilly and Akira got back to camp already and recorded it. Dad always forge-
“SQUEEEEEEE.”
Instinctively I check under my shoe to see if I stepped on a baby squirrel. It takes but a minute to register that the dying noise came from the over-excited boy next to me.
“It’s HIM!” he squeals again.
Quickly, I stumble to my feet and peek over the fallen log, Kenji uncomfortably close by. Only about a kilometer away in the darkened woods I make out the shape of a gigantic black figure, stumbling hunch-backed along the ground.
“My God, the Deer Man does exist! Kenji, get your camera out man, we need too--why do you have that crossbow?”
He ignores me as he goes to work on his weapon, anointing it with various concoctions and gadgets until it resembles an over-encumbered weather vane. After finishing his Frankenstein monstrosity, he takes aim at the black monstrosity.
“Not to worry, bro! This stuff is a relaxing agent, nothing more. If it works, we’ll have a nice, calm interview with Ellen DeGeneres on our hands.
I can’t help but feel worried now. “And if the sedative doesn’t work?”
“Remember that interview Jim Everett had with Jim Rome back in ‘94?”
“Yeah.”
“Like that. But more bloody.”
“Kenji, I’m seriously asking you to reconsider firing that weapon now...”
“Come on!” he scoffs. “Would my gamertag really be 360xXxD3m0nxXxScop3z if I didn’t know how to fire a weapon properly? Think about it!”
That does little to console me. In fact, now I’m in full on freak-out mode. Luckily I’ve been in that mode a lot today, so now I’m aware of all the precautions I need to take. Namely, getting the fuck out of here.
“Look, Kenji, it’s great that you found the Deer Man and all, but I really don’t think I want to meet him.”
His right eye bulges out as he takes aim through his scope. The crossbow begins to bob up and down sharply, perched and ready to fire at it’s target.
“Whatever, chicken out for all I care! All I know is, I’ve got my prize right in front of me! Manly picnics, here I come!”
The black shape stands fully erect for the first time, the fullness of it’s menacing figure being enough to make even Kenji halt his deranged breathing. Now I’m at least eight-eight percent sure this is going to lead to someone dying.
But on the other hand...
Why does that figure seem so familiar? Are those leaves?”
“No more waiting! No more hunting! The time is now! The time is right! TONIGHT, KENJI SETOU DANCES WITH THE GODS!”
The crossbow begins to creak and whir as Kenji readies a bolt, aimed squarely at the menacing monster. All the while I haven’t taken my eyes off of the Deer Man, if it truly is him. Somehow, I can’t shake the feeling that it's not.
“ONE.”
Wait.
“TWO.
That’s not Deer Man.
“THREE.”
Oh fuck.
“FIYAAAHHHH!”
“KENJI DON’T!”
I’m too late. The bolt rockets past me with incredible speed, finding it’s mark squarely on the ebony figure deep within the woods, causing it’s great mass to leap upwards and elicit a pained howl. I’d recognize that howl anywhere.
“COWARDS! YOU WANT TO SHOOT A MAN IN THE ASS?! COME AND SHOOT ME FACE TO FACE! NOBODY ASSAULTS THE TENDER BACKSIDE OF JIGORO HAKAMICHI AND LIVES!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rest of the hunting trip went quite well, I found.
As can be expected, dad was a little miffed at being shot in the behind by a crazed university student. Thankfully the “toxins” Kenji so liberally applied didn't take effect. The ended up being fakes. They still smelled horrible, but that was the extent of their power.
Eventually, though, once dad cooled down a bit, he turned out to be pretty reasonable. For Kenji’s part, he was truly sorry for accidentally firing at Jigoro, especially when he found out that he was planning to cook bear steaks later.I swear, Kenji's’ eyes were lit up like Christmas lights when he heard of my father's manly exploits. It was like a teenage girl meeting their favorite idol. The fact that they ordered their hunting gear from the same guy in Bulgaria also helped them in reaching an understanding.
So, in the end, dad agreed to not press charges, and Kenji voluntarily left the woods to return back home to his mother.
Now, the sun has finally fallen over the skyline, making way for a majestic sea of stars and moonlight. It’s also a pretty kickass excuse to share a blanket with Lilly in front of the roaring fire. Misha scoots in next to us, her own cocoon of blankets dragging behind her.
Nearby, Akira is snickering heartily over her laptop. Unfortunately, I can’t make out the content in the reflection of her reading glasses (she doesn't actually need them, but they make her feel smart).
“You might want to see this,” she chuckles, passing her computer down the row until it reaches me. It’s a news website.
Earlier today, an unidentified special needs child surrendered himself to local police, making cryptic statements about his “mission being completed,” and asked if officers could take him back to his mothers home.
However, once realizing that a few of the officers were a female, the child became belligerent, cruising and calling the female officers “sugar-tits” and “hellcats.”
He was held in a cell for a few hours, but was later released from imprisonment after he was deemed relatively harmless.
Later on, he requested that the officers stop along the way so he could pick up Panera bread.
I shake my head, a smile cracking my face as I hand Akira back her device. Meanwhile, Shizune’s successfully found a working livestream channel on her notebook.
“Shh! True Blood is starting!” Misha yells giddily.
Despite the pink drill's warning, Lilly leans over into my ear, whispering with her hot breath.
“How have you enjoyed the trip, Hideaki?”
Her voice is so warm it sends shivers up and down my spine. Not even my dad’s pained yelps as he applies IcyHot to his ass can dampen my spirits.
“Pretty good.”
Last edited by DanjaDoom on Wed May 29, 2013 9:38 pm, edited 3 times in total.
My fine literary endeavors: Real, M&M, Rat Race, and Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness. Feel free to stroke my ego and read them.
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey-Sanic
We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey-Sanic
-
Mirage_GSM
- Posts: 6217
- Joined: Mon Jun 28, 2010 2:24 am
- Location: Germany
Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
"Your"“You’re cousin was a lot more understanding than I thought she’d be.”
This sentence is in there twice.Apparently in Kenji world shooting people with an arrow is an acceptable opener to negotiations.
I half expected Jigoro to BE the Deer Man...
Is this going to continue?
Emi > Misha > Hanako > Lilly > Rin > Shizune
My collected KS-Fan Fictions: Mirage's Myths
My collected KS-Fan Fictions: Mirage's Myths
Sore wa himitsu desu.griffon8 wrote:Kosher, just because sex is your answer to everything doesn't mean that sex is the answer to everything.
Re: Hideaki: A Tale of Manliness
Aelyn Desbris would be proud.DanjaDoom wrote:I call it preparedness!
'then' should be 'when', I do believe.DanjaDoom wrote:Two months ago was then I heard the tale of the Deer Man.
Wait... I recognize that...DanjaDoom wrote:Kind-heartedness hidden under a facade of belligerent antagonism.
Before a horde of Lilly fans come to stomp on your balls, you should add the other 'l'.DanjaDoom wrote:because of Lily holding her back
Mirage found the rest.
I'm still laughing my ass off at every turn in this tale.