Miki and Taro: Rat Race

[DanjaDoom]

To celebrate my first successful torrent download, here's a new story I've been writing up. It's somewhat based on irl experiences, so hopefully I know what the fuck I'm talking about. These chapters are going to be a bit shorter than my usual output, just a fair warning.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think.

Second Thing
Third Thing
Fourth Thing
Fifth Thing
Sixth Thing

~~~~~~~~~~~~
I sit perched like a gargoyle before the instant noodle stained appliance. I savor its low, monotonous hum and watch with delight as the bright red lines change shape on the digital screen. I’m not a hard girl to entertain.

It beeps for only a short millisecond before I just about rip the door off of its hinges and snatch the prize inside. The sweet, tangy, deep-fried prize inside.

I’m Miki Miura. And Sesame chicken is fucking delicious.

I carry the microwaveable delight over to my dining table/laundry folder, twirling like a housewife from the 50’s all the while. Before I’m able indulge on the saucy treat, however, a lunking knock sounds off on my door. Sighing with agitation, I pull myself up from my chair and prepare to give Molly what’s coming for her.

“Dammit, Mols, I told you already I didn't borrow your stupid Little Miss Sunshine DVD! Just torrent it off the internet like everyone--uhhh... hi?”

Much to my surprise, it’s not Molly, Suzu, or anyone else who would realistically be pounding on my doorstep at six in the evening. It’s Taro, a boy from my class.

“Hey, Miki,” he exhales, wiping away a wealth of sweat from his brow. His resemblance to a big red tomato is uncanny now. Oh, right, I should probably ask what he wants.

“Did you need something?”

Taro snaps back to attention after losing his train of thought for a moment. He clears his throat.

“Yes, uh, I did. I-I wanted to ask you something.”

I raise my eyebrow expectantly. What could he possibly want from me? We've barely even talked to each other before now. There just doesn't seem to be any real reason for him to be standing on my doorstep right--

Ohhhh crap. He wants to ask me out. Dammit, I knew this day would come sooner or later!

How do I tell him no without hurting his feelings? I could just tell him that I see him as just a friend, but considering the aforementioned fact that we've never so much as talked about the weather, it wouldn't be too convincing. Or I could just be blunt and tell him I’m currently fucking the legless Indian girl who sits next to me. Either way would be very, very awkward, for different reasons.

Eh, screw it, I’ll just let him off gently.

“Taro, it’s really nice of you to come by and all, but I’m--”

Every loose object in the immediate area rattles precariously as the plump kid in front of me falls to his hands and knees.

“P-please help me to lose weight!” he grovels, like a peasant requesting a favor from a feudal lord.

I’m too shocked to say anything, other than a few confused stutters. To make matters worse, some of the other hallway residents have popped their heads out just in time to see the fat kid from class 3-3 kneeling in front of my dorm room.

“Get up, you moron!” I hiss quietly, attempting to discreetly pull him inside. I quickly realize that, to put it frankly, that shit’s not going to happen. Even if I did have my other hand.

Thankfully, he understands what I’m trying to accomplish and stands up of his own accord.

A quick glare is enough to send the Gladys Kravitz wanna-be’s back into their hovels. I guess they’re afraid of me or something. Can’t imagine why.

“What the hell was that about?” I ask once we’re safely indoors.

He takes a seat on the foot of my bed, cringing as it moans loudly underneath his frame. He settles on just sitting against the foot of my bed, legs tucked against his body.

“So, why were you here again? I couldn't hear you through the carpet.”

He seems pretty embarrassed by that, but my smirk assures him that I’m only playing.

“I want to lose weight,” he grumbles. By the tone of his voice, you’d think I’d already said no and kicked him out to the curb.

“Sheesh, perk up! I haven’t even given you an answer yet!”

“I’m sorry. Just not used to... this.”

“Talking to girls?” I tease.

“Talking to anyone. Sorry if I overdid it.”

I pat his massive shoulder. “Hey, it’s all good. Wouldn't be the first time my neighbors have heard yelling coming from my room. Don’t ask.”

“I... won’t.”

I sit down next to him, trying to ease his nerves and afraid he may think I’m avoiding him otherwise.

“Why the change of heart? You looked pretty fat and happy when I last saw... oh, that was rude, wasn't it?...”

That gets a small smile out of him, despite it not being all that funny.

“A little. It’s OK though, I’m used to it. I was always ‘that fat kid’ back at my old school. The one who would always sleep through class because he didn't want to embarrass himself. It’s been a little better here, no name calling at least. Then again, no one’s really made any concerted effort to talk to me.”

A pang of guilt hits me in my lower abdomen. It’s either that or the sesame chicken still on the table, but I’m pretty sure it’s that. Suddenly, he moves to his feet. With impressive speed, I might add, given the extra baggage he’s packing.

“But that’s why I want to change! I want people to see me for who I am, not what I look like. I see you running down on the track everyday, you’re probably one of the healthiest people at Yamaku!”

I chuckle nervously, hoping he doesn't catch a glimpse of the empty rocky road pints in my trashcan.

“Well, I’m flattered you think that! But, I mean, I don’t know if I’m really ‘trainer material,’ you know? Maybe you can ask Ibarazaki, she’s always looking for a running partner.”

It’s Taro’s turn to look nervous. Very, very nervous.

“I’m trying to lose weight, not my life. I figured the second best runner in the school would be good enough to get me where I want to be.”

Ouch. Guess I kind of deserved that one for the “fat and happy” jab.

“So?” he presses. “Will you train me?”

The look in his eyes is totally sincere. It’s endearing, and actually a little bit cute. Like a St. Bernard begging for just one more mammoth bone.

“Well... I guess I don’t have much else to do. Sure, what the hell, I’ll give it a go.”

His demeanor takes a sharp 180 as he envelops me in a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you so much! You don’t know how much this means to me! I’ll do everything you tell me to do, I swear!”

“First order,” I wheeze. “Stop killing me.”

“Oh, right, sorry!”

As he gently brings me back down to Earth, I see that sincere gleam in his eyes once more. You know, maybe helping somebody out won’t be as much of a pain as I think it’s going to be. Nothing like charity to warm the cockles of someone’s heart!

I remember hearing that phrase from Molly and laughing for a good three minutes. I mean, seriously, cockles? Priceless.

“So, when do we start? Tomorrow, tonight, right now? I’m good for whenever!”

“Whoa there, Mr. Eager Pants! I need a planning period!”

He raises a brow in confusion. “Planning period?”

“Duh! To plan out all the techniques and exercises we’re going to be doing!”

“Oh, right!” he laughs, smacking his palm against his forehead. “Sorry, I’m not exactly an expert here.”

“OK, second order. Stop apologizing. It’s kind of grating, to be honest.”

He seems taken aback by my bluntness, but nods his head in understanding all the same. Looking over his shoulder, I notice the light of the sun beginning to fade behind the roof of the boys dormitory.

“You should probably start making your way back,” I suggest. “ Wouldn't want people to catch you sneaking out of the girls dorm at night, would you?”

Taro snickers, the center of his cheeks turning a beet red.

“Only playing. Hell, I've lost count of how many times I've had to sneak back to my room late at night.”

Cue the awkward silence.

“Don’t ask?”

“Yep.”

On that note, he takes his leave with a giddy smile plastered all over his face. God, I hope people don’t get the wrong idea about that...

I fall back down onto my bed, slightly dented courtesy of Taro. Just what the hell have I gotten myself into? I've just taken some kid I barely even know under my wing, and now I’m supposed to help him turn his entire life around? I don’t even know the first thing about nutrition! I’m just really good at running! That’s pretty much the extent of my fitness knowledge!

Groaning at my stupidity, I bury my face into a turquoise rhino plush Molly gave to me as a gift.

Now I’m not even hungry for sesame chicken.

[Fiandra]

Is it a Little Miss Sunshine torrent ? interesting, this story is. I'm looking forward for more.

[DanjaDoom]

Is it a Little Miss Sunshine torrent ? interesting, this story is. I'm looking forward for more.

It's a Sims 3 torrent because fuck giving EA my money.

And now it's telling me that the disk isn't authorized. Which is technically true, but still, the fuck brah

[Mirage_GSM]

Nice.
It's a completely different take on Taro compared to Scissorlips' and my own story.
That's what I like so much about those tertiary characters - you can make so many different things with them.

[DanjaDoom]

Nice.
It's a completely different take on Taro compared to Scissorlips' and my own story.
That's what I like so much about those tertiary characters - you can make so many different things with them.

I wasn't aware you did anything Taro related. And here I am thinking I'm treading new ground;_;

Hopefully I can make him stand out, then.

[Mirage_GSM]

I wasn't aware you did anything Taro related.

Well, the story is called "Tripping," and you'll find the link in my sig.
I started writing it before I learned Taro's canon name and disability, so he is called Motoki in my story and - going from just the classroom CG - I guessed him to be a narcoleptic.
The story has been on hold for some time now, because I've been working on the German translation of KS (as well as some other stuff) but I definitely plan to finish it - someday ^^°

[DanjaDoom]

I wasn't aware you did anything Taro related.

Well, the story is called "Tripping," and you'll find the link in my sig.
I started writing it before I learned Taro's canon name and disability, so he is called Motoki in my story and - going from just the classroom CG - I guessed him to be a narcoleptic.
The story has been on hold for some time now, because I've been working on the German translation of KS (as well as some other stuff) but I definitely plan to finish it - someday ^^°

I have a feeling that would make the Hanako bad end scarier that it already is.

[Mirage_GSM]

I don't think I follow you...

[DanjaDoom]

I don't think I follow you...

Angry Hanako screaming in German.

My cousin has a German amazon girlfriend. She yells at her kids in German. It scares me.

[Steinherz]

I don't think I follow you...

Angry Hanako screaming in German.

My cousin has a German amazon girlfriend. She yells at her kids in German. It scares me.

This makes me remember a comment about German (specifically Rammstein). "French is the language of Love. German is the language of anger."

[ProfAllister]

It seems like it has promise. Hard to tell from an initial entry, but the fact that the first showing is hard to tell is a good sign. Most of the time, when it isn't hard to tell from the first entry, it's because it's unabashedly terrible.

Regarding Taro and canon, strictly speaking there is no canon.

It has been explicitly stated that "Word of God" does not equate to canon. If it didn't make the cut to the game itself it is, at best, an elevated form of fanon. And the dev that made the statement on Word of God not being canon (Suriko) is the same dev that made the yearbook pic.

That's really all academic, though. A bigger concern, I think, is that the yearbook lists Taro's disability as Monoplegia (i.e., paralysis of a single limb). It's not explicit here, but your Taro seems to have use of all four limbs.

On the subject of tertiaries and their fanfic screen time, Taro is actually quite popular. From my trawling, the least used characters seem to be Akio Hayashi (often mentioned, rarely given a significant role), Ritsu Tainaka (retcameo, but technically an OC), Misaki Kawana (I'm not sure I've EVER seen her featured), the mysterious nameless individual who replaced Lelouch in the final game, Haruhiko Suzumiya (Rule 63 Cameo), and Ikuno Komaki (not mentioned often, rarely significant).

And finally, since I've seen many people have trouble with these words:

When referring to stage directions, it's "cue." - "Cue the lights." "That's my cue!"
When referring to a pool table, the stick you use to hit the ball is the "cue." The white ball that you hit with the cue is the "cue ball." A bald person may also be referred to as a "cue ball."
If there is a sequence of things lined up, or people waiting in a line, it is a "queue." - "We waited in the queue for hours." "Now click on your barracks and queue up ten marines then five firebats."(or "add ... to the building queue")
"Que" is Spanish for "What"

(Regarding German, it can be a harsh, ugly language, but so can any other language. Spoken properly, German can be quite beautiful and/or sexy.)

[DanjaDoom]

It seems like it has promise. Hard to tell from an initial entry, but the fact that the first showing is hard to tell is a good sign. Most of the time, when it isn't hard to tell from the first entry, it's because it's unabashedly terrible.

Regarding Taro and canon, strictly speaking there is no canon.

It has been explicitly stated that "Word of God" does not equate to canon. If it didn't make the cut to the game itself it is, at best, an elevated form of fanon. And the dev that made the statement on Word of God not being canon (Suriko) is the same dev that made the yearbook pic.

That's really all academic, though. A bigger concern, I think, is that the yearbook lists Taro's disability as Monoplegia (i.e., paralysis of a single limb). It's not explicit here, but your Taro seems to have use of all four limbs.

On the subject of tertiaries and their fanfic screen time, Taro is actually quite popular. From my trawling, the least used characters seem to be Akio Hayashi (often mentioned, rarely given a significant role), Ritsu Tainaka (retcameo, but technically an OC), Misaki Kawana (I'm not sure I've EVER seen her featured), the mysterious nameless individual who replaced Lelouch in the final game, Haruhiko Suzumiya (Rule 63 Cameo), and Ikuno Komaki (not mentioned often, rarely significant).

And finally, since I've seen many people have trouble with these words:

When referring to stage directions, it's "cue." - "Cue the lights." "That's my cue!"
When referring to a pool table, the stick you use to hit the ball is the "cue." The white ball that you hit with the cue is the "cue ball." A bald person may also be referred to as a "cue ball."
If there is a sequence of things lined up, or people waiting in a line, it is a "queue." - "We waited in the queue for hours." "Now click on your barracks and queue up ten marines then five firebats."(or "add ... to the building queue")
"Que" is Spanish for "What"

(Regarding German, it can be a harsh, ugly language, but so can any other language. Spoken properly, German can be quite beautiful and/or sexy.)

Spoiler'd because I dunno. I was planning to bring up his monoplegia in the next chapter. In this canon, let's just say it's a milder form of monoplegia that still lets him have motor function in his right arm, but it's very limited.

Ah, I was worried something slipped under the cracks. Fix'd.

True, I suppose. Thanks for the feedback Allister, appreciate it.

[Mirage_GSM]

On the subject of tertiaries and their fanfic screen time, Taro is actually quite popular. From my trawling, the least used characters seem to be Akio Hayashi (often mentioned, rarely given a significant role), Ritsu Tainaka (retcameo, but technically an OC), Misaki Kawana (I'm not sure I've EVER seen her featured), the mysterious nameless individual who replaced Lelouch in the final game, Haruhiko Suzumiya (Rule 63 Cameo), and Ikuno Komaki (not mentioned often, rarely significant).

Ikuno has a somewhat greater part in my story mentioned above (I try to give all the characters there more or less equal screen time.)
I actually had to check the classroom CG to verify there IS a character named Misaki Kawana^^° I completely forgot about her... I have an OC in my story by the name of Misaki, but she's from class 1-1
As for the guy who replaced Lelouch... Guess he came in too late to replace Lelouch in the headcanon of most readers.

[DanjaDoom]

On the subject of tertiaries and their fanfic screen time, Taro is actually quite popular. From my trawling, the least used characters seem to be Akio Hayashi (often mentioned, rarely given a significant role), Ritsu Tainaka (retcameo, but technically an OC), Misaki Kawana (I'm not sure I've EVER seen her featured), the mysterious nameless individual who replaced Lelouch in the final game, Haruhiko Suzumiya (Rule 63 Cameo), and Ikuno Komaki (not mentioned often, rarely significant).

Ikuno has a somewhat greater part in my story mentioned above (I try to give all the characters there more or less equal screen time.)
I actually had to check the classroom CG to verify there IS a character named Misaki Kawana^^° I completely forgot about her... I have an OC in my story by the name of Misaki, but she's from class 1-1
As for the guy who replaced Lelouch... Guess he came in too late to replace Lelouch in the headcanon of most readers.

If he's not in the yearbook, he may as well be a ghost.

[DanjaDoom]

No witty dialogue this time. Just slide your feedback under the door and go away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Cowabunga! It’s time to wake up and get some pizza, dude!”

In hindsight, buying that Mikey alarm clock off of Amazon may not have been the brightest idea. There’s only so much painful eighties slang I can take in the mornings. Not to mention that it’s a good decade old or so, making it sound like Mikey smoked a pack and delivered his lines through a phonograph.

Surprisingly, this isn’t enough to wake up my partner. Her chocolate brown eyes remain tightly shut amidst a sea of knotty black hair.

This is par for the course when it comes to Sunday mornings. Needless to say, not much studying gets done on our Saturday “study nights.” If anything, they should be renamed Saturday Night Sex Time... nights. I’m bad with names, so sue me.

Molly begins to stir awake next to me, stretching back her shoulders with a pop. She glances up at me with misty eyed bewilderment.

“We did it again, didn’t we?” she asks in exasperation, throwing her face down into the pillow.

“I’m not that bad, am I?”

“I just want to get through one night without... this happening!”

“What’s ‘this’?”

“You know what ‘this’ is!”

“No, I don’t. Please elaborate.”

My coy smirk only makes her angrier. So cute. It’s like watching a Pomeranian barking at you.

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

“I am an ass, or I have a great ass?”

She rolls off of the bed and puts on the prosthetic limbs leaning against the bedside drawer.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” she answers curtly. She doesn't even make eye contact as she picks stray articles of her clothing off of the berber carpet.

“I’m sorry, who initiated this relationship?”

“I would have kept my clothes on if I knew you were a freakin’ nymphomaniac...”

I scoff at her belligerent denial. “Oh, please! Don’t act like you don’t love every minute of it.”

Just to hammer the point home, I lay at the foot of the bed, sweep my hair back and rest the tip of my pointer finger at the base of my lips. She hates when I do that. It makes her go red in the cheeks without fail, no matter how hard she tries to fight it. Lo and behold, it works once again.

“Where are you off to anyway? You don’t want to stay for breakfast?”

She shakes her head as she pulls her sweater on. “I offered to meet up with Yuuko to help organize a new shipment of braille books she’s getting today. She already told me no, but I figured I'd just show up anyway.”

“You’re not going to have sex with her too, are you?”

Sock to the face. No regrets.

“Can you not be a dumbass just one time today? And besides, you have stuff to do today as well!”

I raise my brow up at her, genuinely confused now.

“I do?”

She twists her lips in an all-too familiar way. It’s her “I told you so” look, and it’s been the bane of my existence for as long as the two of us have known each other.

“You have a running date today, Ms.Jillian Michaels!”

I groan in realization and pound my head against the fluffy comforter. I had almost forgotten about the promise I made to Taro on Friday. I’m no good at keeping promises, which sort of begs the question as to why I agreed to help him out in the first place. Maybe I just like the kid, I don't know. I’m sure anybody else would agree too, if he showed up at their door crying and pleading.

Yeah, that’s my problem. I’m just too nice.

I offer up the loveliest smile I can muster towards my now fully clothed best friend/sex partner.

“Molly, love of my life?”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask!”

“You’re going to ask me to find Taro and give him some bullshit excuse as to why you can’t help him today, because you’re too lazy to even get out of bed right now.”

She’s good.

“Fine,” I moan, making sure to give her a guilt-inducing stink eye as I sort through my hamper for the least stained shirt I can wear out to the track. Hygienic? No. Convenient? Very.

I make sure to give her a firm bump on the shoulder as I leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You know, for all my grumbling, I actually do like sunday mornings. Nice and easy, they are. Most consider it a “free day” of sorts, so it’s not uncommon to see boys strutting like peacocks for the female population. Some find a bit of success, but most of them just fail to generate much interest. Though, I do see one girl give me a rather suggestive smile as I stroll by. I don’t want to start playing guessing games with sexual orientations, but I’d wager she swings for the other team. Maybe I should consider pick-up artistry as a career? Nah. I can already imagine the shit I’d get from Molly. Not worth it in the long run.

The track appears more crowded than usual today; some boys have started up a game of soccer in yet another quest to get laid. Some things are just universal.

I spot Taro in the bleachers, his eyes transfixed on the red track circling around the field like a snake. It’s hard to tell if he’s intimidated, determined, or both at the same time. Wiping away the last of my post-coitus grogginess from my eyes, I call out to him

“Taro!”

Immediately snapping out of his mental lapse, he hurries off of the stands and jogs the rest of the way towards me.

“Hey, glad you could make it!”

He fails miserably to hide the fact that he’s out of breath. Still, I’m here to encourage, right?

“Well, I’d be kind of a bitch if I weren’t here, wouldn’t I?”

Did I just insult myself? Yeah, think I did.

Taro finds my self-depreciation worthy of a good, breathless laugh. “I knew there was a reason I picked you train me. I have a good sense for these kinds of things, you know.”

“Cool, then I’ll be teaching Professor X how to run. Ready to get going?”

“Never been readier!” he exclaims, with all the enthusiasm of a kid about to plunder a toy store. “So, what are we going to do first?”

“First?”

“Well, yeah, didn’t you plan something out?”

Of course I didn’t plan anything out! I never plan anything out! I just go out and run, there’s really no structure involved. On second thought, that’s not a bad plan...

“We’re just... going to run.”

“Just run?” he repeats, slightly confused.

“Just run.”

“Well, alright, you’re the boss.”

Sudden realization hits me as we make our way over to the starting point on the track.

“Wait, can you run?”

“Of course I... think I can.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He can’t run. Hell, he can barely power walk for more than five minutes.

“Miki, maybe we can... take a break?”

The second I oblige him and come to a stop, he drops down into a heap on the rubber below, panting away on his hands and knees. To my chagrin, a few of the soccer boys have paused their game to get a few good laughs in.

Thankfully, Taro is too exhausted to notice this. I try to reassure him, while at the same time trying to shield him from any more potential embarrassment.

“You know, you don’t have to jog the whole way. You can walk if you want to.”

He picks himself off of the ground, sweeping dirt away from the seat of his jogging shorts. The steely-eyed determination returns to him.

“No. Thanks but no thanks, coach. If I’m going to do this, it’s go hard or go home!”

“Well, I mean, maybe you can conserve more energy for later by just--”

He slowly raises his right hand to cut me off, grimacing the whole while.

“Listen, Miki, I know what you’re trying to do. I’m not dumb, I know people are going to laugh at me for this. But I’m not doing this for them. I’m doing this for me.”

Once again, he’s off. It’s a slow, shambling pace, but I’ll be damned if it’s not a pace. It’s pretty funny, actually. The kid’s got more willpower than the “second best” runner in the school.

To be completely honest, I contemplated just quitting on the way up here. Just turning around, crawling back into bed, and letting everything sort itself out. But I didn't.

I don’t know why, exactly. Maybe I’ll find out soon.

THUD.

Or later...