Miki and Taro: Rat Race
Posted: Wed Jan 09, 2013 4:20 am
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.
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.
interesting, this story is. I'm looking forward for more.