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Hanako and Hisao –Road to Tokyo (A H&K:MD Prequel Summer Series)

FOUR TICKETS. SIX HOURS. NO MERCY.

Tablunum Um Contentum
A Winner is You! (this post)
Backstory, Ahoy! Part II
Echoes of the Past
Doctor, Doctor, Give Me the News
In the Rear With the Gear Part II
I’d Pay to See That
I Can Haz Kitten? Part II Part III
Next Time, Stay in the Barrel Part II
When We Remembered Zion Part II
Unleash the Swagger Part II Part III
Sleepless in Tokyo
In the Name of Love Part II
Haggle-Burger Hill Part II
Two Rings to Bind Them Part II
Girl Talk: Yamaku Edition
I Wanna Rock n’ Roll All Night Part II Part III
Cossacks and Cocktails Part II
For Love, We'll Give it a Shot! Part II

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” –Lao-tzu

Chapter One (Hanako): A Winner is You!


Of all the stories Hisao has asked me to help him write over the years, this one is probably one of my favorites…

Near the end of our sophomore year of college, I entered a mail raffle. I was surprised they still did those, and the prize was something I really wanted. Of course, if I won, I’d have to use the prize, but I could handle it, I hoped. It would be dark, and everyone would be focused on something else, so I could mix with the crowd and have fun with my friends and boyfriend.

I hadn’t counted on which friends, or what a pain the whole ordeal would be. Or that it would all be worth it. At the time I had been steeling my nerves to submit the ticket. My therapist thought it was a good idea, and she was the only one I was willing to talk to about it. I didn’t want to get any of my friend’s hopes up, since it was a great prize, and the odds of winning obviously not in my favor.

As the weeks went by, I had nearly forgotten about the raffle. I had only sent in a few tickets, and even if I won, the trip would be such a hassle. I like traveling, but the city was so crowded. Even if it was at night, I might still be noticed, and that might ruin the whole trip for me; people reacting badly to my scarring is a trigger that never quite went away. I have gotten much better at handling it, though.

Anyway the weeks went by, and I more or less forgot about the raffle. It was around late June, about a month from the end of the trimester. I was studying my writing textbook at my desk one afternoon, my mind wandering away from one of my last due assignments. I was trying to brute force my way through the paper, which involved translation exercises; the idea being to translate the text while maintaining the author’s original intent. It was supposed to broaden our minds to new literary ideas and methods, but all it did was piss me off. It didn’t help that one of my literature professor’s had a thing for Depression era literature, which was, well, depressing.

I sighed and leaned back from my laptop. Such things were best done when my roommate was around to help me translate. She had gone to a class a while ago, and should’ve been on her way back by then. I preferred evening courses, for obvious reasons, so my class wasn’t for another hour or so. Thinking of my roommate led my gaze around the dormitory, and I pulled the long strands of purple hair from the right side of my face so I could see better. My fingers lightly grazed the old burn scars spread across that side of my face as I did so, but I ignored them as I focused on lazily scanning the dorm room in the tried and true undergraduate tradition of procrastination.

The dormitory itself wasn’t anything special. It was painted a dull white, like dorms the world over seem to be painted. My bed and desk were along the left wall, while my roommate’s bed and desk were on the right. My bed and desk were in the far corner along with a bookshelf and some plastic totes, while my roommate’s bed and desk were closer to the front door. Her books and things were more or less arrayed in stray piles and stacks in the far right corner.

Between the piles and my bed was a rectangular window, which was open with the curtains partially open to allow the breeze inside. Under the window was a small dark wooden table, on top of which sat a well used red tea set with a bright floral pattern, and a vast assortment of tea bags, leaves, and condiments. A small refrigerator and portable table were tucked under the table. A door on the right wall led to the bathroom, which we shared with two other students in the adjoining dorm. I didn’t talk to them much, but they seemed nice, though they played their music pretty loud sometimes.

My eye wandering stopped when I heard a familiar click emanate from the front door. I turned to face it in time to see it open fully, allowing me to observe my roommate as she entered the dorm.

“Hanako?” Lilly Satou asked as she closed the door behind her.

She was dressed in her normal ankle length skirt and an informal looking blouse. Her blond hair was up in a ponytail as usual, though today she was using a light green ribbon to match her skirt. Her cane was collapsed and strapped to her right hand, her bag slung over her left shoulder. Her silver cross hung around her neck, glittering slightly in the light.

It had taken me a week to gather the nerve to convince the Housing Department to make us roommates, but it was worth it. It gave me a chance to help Lilly more, and helped me adjust better to college life. And someone had to organize her books so their order made some semblance of sense.

“I’m here,” I replied from my desk chair.

“I got the mail,” Lilly stated, “did we get anything exciting?”

I got up and waited for Lilly to sit at her own desk. She fished around her bag for the small stack of mail and handed it me. I sighed as I flipped through it.

“More credit card offers,” I replied, “and a recruitment flyer for the JSDF.”

I was working on my stuttering with a speech therapist, and had managed to suppress it when I made a conscious effort or was in a one-on-one conversation with someone I trusted. Which was really just Hisao and Lilly at that point. I was also stuttering less when I was nervous or out and about, which helped assuage my anxiety a bit; people are less likely to stare at you if you can talk normally.

Lilly giggled at my mail examination, “I do hope that one is addressed to you.”

“It is, though for all we know, the Minister of Defense is a Heinlein fan,” I mused.

“Well, I think I’ll pass,” Lilly quipped, and started emptying her bag by opening the appropriate drawer and dumping the contents in with a long series of clunks, thuds, and clattering. She had padded her drawers so they made less noise when she did it, fortunately, for both our ears.

I was about ready to toss the whole pile of mail, when I noticed the last piece, “huh?”

“What is it?” Lilly asked as she set her bag down by her desk.

“I’m not sure,” I muttered, more to myself then to Lilly.

The sender address seemed familiar for some reason, so I carefully opened the envelope. Easing the contents out, four tickets and several vouchers slowly slipped out, along with a sheet of paper. Carefully holding the small cache in my hands, I slowly exhaled as my shaking fingers unfolded the note. My eyes widened as I read it, the full reality of what I had done crashing down on me… It was really going to happen… I was going… Out there… So many people…

I have a vague memory of a damp cloth and Lilly fussing over me for the rest of the evening, because I’m pretty sure I fainted from excitement and anxiety.

+++
Next Chapter

Hello boys, I’m baaaaaaaacck!

WARNING: This series will (hopefully) be zany, kooky, and may or not manage to stay in character –this is me we’re talking about. Feedback is appreciated as always.

Anyways, there will be feels, laughs, romance, fluff, crack, and of course, Kenji’s No Pants Underpants Dance!

Wait, what the- oh crap!

Ch-chk BOOM! Ch-chk BOOM! Ch-chk BOOM!

…stupid genetic experiments gone wrong. Anyway, looks like the Dance is out. To make up for it, I’ll be chatting a bit about each chapter in my normally random psychotically awesome way, starting with-

Stay dead damn you! Ch-chk BOOM!

-this one:

Yeah, Lilly and Hanako are roommates. To be fair, the two are Blood Sisters, and Lilly has probably gotten used to Hanako being her guide. As to how the rest showed up at the same university, I’ll explain that later.

I do apologize for the cheap trick of not stating who Hanako’s roommate was right off the bat, though. I did that mainly so I could describe the dorm room without having to explain that their roomies right away, which was blatantly obvious anyway.

So, who wants to join me on a magic carpet ride? After all, you don't know what we can find.

Updates should be weekly, so stay tuned, for next week: exposition from a familiar source.

DanjaDoom wrote:I think I know what time it is.

That would not be an illogical conclusion to draw, especially since adventure time already happened (or will happen... time travel hurts my head.)

Well as I have loyally read all your other fics, I guess I should read this one two. That brings to total number of stories I'm following up to...8. I like this so far. Good job!

hawkeye77th wrote:Well as I have loyally read all your other fics, I guess I should read this one two.

Thanks, your readership is appreciated (lovin' the avatar, btw; big M*A*S*H fan.) .

That brings to total number of stories I'm following up to...8.

Same, although some of the ones I follow might be dead...

I like this so far. Good job!

Thanks, I'll do my best . If I don't, someone will come 'round to bop me on the head and set me straight (probably one of my favorite things about this forum.)

Hopefully not too straight. We're here for the insanity after all.

griffon8 wrote:Hopefully not too straight. We're here for the insanity after all.

Well, if I'm not insane enough, feel free to bop me upside the head

Actually, I'm planning a lot of stuff to happen, so at this point the only thing I can guarantee is whether there be drama, romance, or comedy, something insane will be involved (usually Kenji.)

Don't shoot me. (your cue to put down the gun you've pointed at me since March break)

Now that that's out of the way, I was a bit disappointed that you weren't going to do that thing with the action movies but this is already looking to be a good read.

Annnnd.

I heard a familiar click emanate from the front door.

Never heard someone use emanate for such a spontaneous sound before, maybe because it sounds like radiate?

My bed and desk were along the left wall, while my roommate’s bed and desk were on the right. My bed and desk were in the far corner along with a bookshelf and some plastic totes, while my roommate’s bed and desk were closer to the front door.

Maybe you could condense it?

That's it. kthxbai

CptSalsa wrote:Don't shoot me. (your cue to put down the gun you've pointed at me since March break)

(Reluctantly sheathes shotgun on back holster.)

Now that that's out of the way, I was a bit disappointed that you weren't going to do that thing with the action movies but this is already looking to be a good read.

Guess I need to do another drunken movie night one shot

I heard a familiar click emanate from the front door.

Never heard someone use emanate for such a spontaneous sound before, maybe because it sounds like radiate?

I like to use somewhat archaic two dollar words to give my writing a more old-school feel to it, akin to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle or HG Wells. So that might explain the word use. That and I like the way it sounds when spoken (I like the -ate suffix in general, really. I'm weird like that, I guess.

My bed and desk were along the left wall, while my roommate’s bed and desk were on the right. My bed and desk were in the far corner along with a bookshelf and some plastic totes, while my roommate’s bed and desk were closer to the front door.

Maybe you could condense it?

You know, that section would look a lot better if I didn't say "bed and desk" 37 times. I'll have to think on some good substitutes to use instead.

Thanks for reading and commenting

"He who fails to plan is planning to fail." –Winston Churchill

Previous Chapter

Chapter Two (Hisao): Backstory, Ahoy!


Exposition time, it seems. Here’s the short version:

The three of us –Lilly, Hanako, and myself, Hisao Nakai- had all become rather fond of the Sendai area. Turned out there were a couple good universities in the region, so we all applied to them, and others around the country, as well. One in Sendai accepted us, so we went. Kenji Setou… kinda followed me. Some might say stalked, but that would be going a bit far. Maybe.

Speaking of Kenji, sometime between our high school graduation and freshman year of college, he decided the feminist conspiracy was just a distraction for the real threat to the world’s free will and supple, Japanese women. As a result, he slowly started to abandon his inane idiotic ramblings about vast feminist conspiracies. Although he ended up replacing them with inane and much less idiotic ramblings about ancient conspiracy secret societies, but at the time we were blissfully ignorant of that particular can of worms. And his early ramblings were usually way off the mark, anyway.

Now, how he managed to become my roommate, I wasn’t sure about. He wouldn’t tell me, and he was stable enough at that point that I didn’t mind too much. As Hanako already mentioned, she and Lilly became roommates, too. Hanako even got a job at the college newspaper, and shared a few writing classes with Kenji. The two were similar in their anxieties, and Lilly and I were worried that they’d feed off each other’s issues. It worked out fine though, although Kenji’s slash-and-burn psychological methodology was just as likely to make her panic as it was to help. Still, they did okay together, and I have a feeling it helped that they bonded over their mutual disdain for the writing of Stephanie Meyer.

If you’re wondering why we chose the dorms over an apartment, frankly I was worried of pushing my relationship with Hanako too quickly. I had a vague idea of marriage once the relationship had been ongoing for over a year, but I felt she deserved a chance to see what the world had to offer, if she so chose. There was also the matter that we didn’t have very good future job prospects –population decline and all that. I could also help contain Kenji’s craziness in the dorms, as I doubt he’d have willingly moved in with two women before the months of therapy and mushrooms kicked in, and I didn’t trust him on his own; he might do something stupid or illegal, or both.

We were all working, though. Kenji ran an op/ed column with the newspaper –mostly political stuff, when he wasn’t ranting on how Michael Bay had ruined the action movie genre. As for Lilly and I, we peer tutored English and science, respectively. So an apartment was in the future, but there was nothing concrete at that stage. We were still working out our baggage left over from high school, I think, and commuting and dealing with an apartment would’ve put a wrench in that, along with a bunch more bills.

As for during breaks, Lilly usually went to Scotland to visit her family, Kenji presumably went to visit his parents –he never gave me specifics, citing security reasons- and Hanako and I stayed with my parents. Both she and they were apprehensive about the idea, but she didn’t have anywhere else to go, and when I explained that, my parents agreed. She had been terrified at the idea of staying with them, but my parents took a quick liking to her, and treated her as if she was their own.

So naturally they started badgering me about marriage. I said I was waiting until we graduated to get them off my back, though by our sophomore year I was mulling the idea over more seriously. I was considering speaking with Hanako and Lilly about looking for an apartment, then asking Hanako to marry me once we graduated, or at least one of the two of us had a steady job. By then I’m sure Kenji would be fine, and if not, that’s what the couch was invented for. Like I said though, sophomore year was mostly us wrapping up old baggage, with a few notable exceptions that really turned things upside down towards the end. But that part comes later.

Anyway, that’s the short version of the first two years after we graduated from Yamaku. If it seems a bit confusing, that’s what you get for getting the short version; the long version’s a story in itself.

Getting back to the story at hand, it was late June, a little less than a month before the end of the trimester. Hanako had asked that Lilly and I meet her at the university bookstore’s café. I asked if Kenji could come, too, mostly to get him out of the dorm. Hanako agreed, somewhat reluctantly.

When we met up the four of us took some seats at a small wooden table. How crowded the café was varied, but this afternoon it was nearly abandoned, so Hanako was relatively relaxed. Kenji was immersed in a book on the US Presidents and the Freemasons; he had picked up reading in public as a coping mechanism against their ever present presence. Lilly was sitting next to Hanako, across from Kenji. Hanako had taken the far corner seat, and was across from me.

The place itself was pretty typical for a bookstore café, or any café, really. Barely a dozen small wooden tables with metal and plastic chairs arrayed in rows filled the room, either shoved along light blue walls or tucked into corners like ours was. The counter was behind me and parallel to the wall, hidden by part of the wall that jutted out for some reason. The bookstore itself loomed beyond the café, with bookshelves, check-out counters, and information desks arrayed in rows and columns.

I had ordered some drinks and grabbed them before sitting down, and carefully handed them out. Quietly sipping our tea or coffee, we waited patiently for Hanako to explain why she had called this little meeting. Well, Lilly and I did; Kenji was just along because I wanted to drag him away from Call of Duty for a while, and not just because he kept getting a higher killcount then me.

“A f-few weeks ago, I entered a r-raffle,” Hanako explained, obviously wound up about something, “a-and I won.”

I had no idea where this was going, so I smiled and said, “That’s great. What was the prize?”

Staring at her cup of tea, she smiled lightly and responded, “f-four tickets to a r-rock c-concert in Tokyo, a two room, two n-night hotel stay, a-and vouchers for free meals at the hotel’s restaurant –in J-July, is when the c-concert is. Late July.”

“That is one awesome prize,” I stated. Then it clicked, and I grinned, “And you wanted to invite me, and Lilly?”

Hanako nodded, “and George, but he already left for Canada, and only if there was n-nothing else you’d r-rather do.”

“I can’t think of anything I would rather do,” Lilly declared, smiling sweetly as she turned her head towards Hanako’s voice, “though I am sorry George couldn’t come.”

“I-it’s not your fault,” Hanako replied as she stared down at her tea.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I added, “although…”

I paused, thinking. Rock meant a strong bass, and that might be trouble for a certain person with a heart condition.

Hanako looked puzzled, but after a moment her eyes widened with shock and realization, “I’m s-sorry, Hisao! I sh-sh-should-”

“It’s alright,” I said, cutting her off before she got too worked up, “I’ll talk to my doctor and see what precautions I should take, if any. Which band is playing?”

Hanako told me and I smiled, “They don’t have a big bass section, so I should be fine.”

Hanako nodded, but didn’t look quite convinced. After sipping her tea for a bit to regain her composure, she stated, “the only problem then is, wh-who to give the fourth ticket to.”

I coughed lightly and jerked my head at Kenji. Hanako’s expression twisted into adorable confusion.

“R-really?” Hanako asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Do you have someone in mind, Hisao?” Lilly asked.

“I do,” I replied.

Part Zwei

If Lilly was upset at being left in the dark she didn’t show it. Hanako just stared at me blankly, obviously questioning my choice.

“It’d be a good experience for him,” I stated, “get him out and rockin’, like a real man.”

“Ah,” Lilly said, smiling as she connected the dots on her own, “that is a very… unusual choice, Hisao.”

I shrugged, “his planning skills might come in handy as well.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Kenji interjected, startling the rest of us.

He had been so engrossed in his book, his thick, round glasses mere centimeters from the pages, that I figured he was ignoring us. After speaking, he lowered the book and readjusted the red and gold scarf he kept draped around his shoulders, presumably because it was lined with tinfoil to protect his head from the satellite signals. Taking a long drag from his coffee, he turned to look at Hanako’s head, “now, what were you talkin’ about? I heard something about men and planning? Did it have to do with Theodore Roosevelt, because so far he seems to be the only US President who wasn’t corrupted by the Freemasons.”

Lilly took a sip from her tea to suppress a giggle, while I settled for an eye roll. Hanako merely turned to look at Kenji, “I w-won a raffle, and the prize is four tickets to a c-concert in late July, and paid hotel expenses.”

“And you wanted me to come along?” Kenji asked. He turned away from Hanako without waiting for an answer. Scratching his stubble in thought, the light glinted off his glasses as he pondered, “I don’t know. All those people, socializing, interacting, right there in front of one of the greatest instruments of the Illuminati.”

“The music industry,” I explained to the two women; one, for lack of a better term, benefit, of being a crazy conspiracy theorist’s roommate is when they start on a tangent, you can generally follow along after enough exposure.

“Exactly!” Kenji stated, “If they knew I was among them, I’d be dead in a second. Or worse, captured and corrupted to become one of their puppets, like Glee fans.”

Now, a different person might’ve shrugged and said “suit yourself, man.” Kenji can be irritating, selfish, and abrasive. He could also be helpful, considerate, and a good friend. He had helped Hanako through some tough times freshman year, when she refused to speak to me or Lilly, and had reluctantly interacted with my girlfriend and female friend in social settings. I wanted to help him branch out into the world; if Hanako was willing to go to a concert, then it would probably be good for Kenji, too.

Besides, it had taken me three weeks to beat his Gears of War multiplayer score, and I was not going to let him have the weekend to up his ranking.

“That’s certainly a risk,” I conceded with a faked grave nod, which earned me a raised eyebrow from Hanako, “but, if I remember correctly, this band is one of the few untouched by the Illuminati’s corrupting grasp.”

Kenji’s head darted to face mine, his glass-covered gaze penetrating deep into my unruly brown hair as he asked, “seriously? Are you sure?”

“Which band is playing?” I asked Hanako again.

Hanako responded, and Kenji leaned back, absentmindedly stroking his scarf in thought.

“If that’s true,” he muttered, “I could use this event as a way to scope out potential allies. See how they’ve managed to remain free and unpolluted by those Illuminati bastards.”

“Hard to pass up data like that,” I said, “besides, Lilly’ll should have a beard if she’s going, and you’re the best man for that job, too.”

By best I meant only, since anyone else would either be a security risk due to drug use, or make Hanako too nervous to allow her to enjoy herself. Or both.

Kenji sighed, “well, I can’t let some townie prick go after the hot half-foreigner. Wouldn’t wanna see George when he got the news, either.”

“He would not take it well,” Lilly stated, playing along.

Kenji grinned and turned to face Hanako, “alright, I’m in. For the future of the world, Lilly’s relationship, and, almost as important, for the badass road trip.”

I hid my triumphant grin behind my cup, Lilly doing the same to hide her more bemused grimace. Hanako, though smiling weakly, looked a bit flustered.

“A-actually,” she said, “I f-figured we’d take a train.”

Kenji yelped like a stepped on puppy, causing Lilly and Hanako to flinch, “the train? Come on, woman, the road trip is an essential part of the rock concert experience! It’s what separates the true fans from the pansy mainstream lamebrains who only show up because they fell for the Illuminati’s subliminal messaging!”

A look of challenge entered Hanako’s eyes, and I couldn’t help but grin at Kenji’s manipulation, although knowing him it was probably unintentional. Hanako was a huge fan of that band; the first poster she had bought for her new dorm had been a band poster. To question her devotion to that band was like questioning Misha’s devotion to Shizune, or Kenji’s devotion to pizza. Her devotion was obviously strong enough for her to brave a massive crowd of screaming fans, if it meant she could jump and scream along with them.

“As much fun as a road trip might be,” Lilly interjected, “not only can only two of us drive, but neither of those two own a car.”

Kenji grinned, “No problem! I can get us a car, and Hisao and Hanako can drive it!”

I looked to Hanako, “it’s your prize, though a road trip might be fun.”

Several hours cramped together in a car sounded very un-fun, actually, but I really wanted to get Kenji out of the dorm for a while. I had a feeling he’d refuse to go if we took the train, and there wasn’t anyone else around that we could invite. No one that Hanako would be comfortable with, at least.

Hanako glanced at a confidently grinning Kenji, “A r-road trip might be fun. I’ve n-never been on one, before, so it could be a good experience. The c-concert’s in a month, so you have plenty of time to prepare, too.”

Kenji smiled and patted Hanako roughly on the shoulder, causing her to wince lightly, “thanks, Hanako! I won’t let you down. I know just where to get a car, and I can plan the route, and the itinerary, and everything!”

“Told you he’d be a good choice,” I said, “less for us to worry about.”

Kenji may be insane, but he is an excellent planner. Granted, his plans sometimes devolve into “run for your fucking life,” but it’s the thought that counts. And whether or not you’re wearing a bullet proof vest.

“We’ll be counting on you, Kenji,” Lilly stated, “You have our utmost confidence in your preparation and planning skills.”

“Don’t worry, I know just what to do,” Kenji declared.

In a fluid motion he drained his coffee and leapt up from his chair. Pointing towards the travel section of the bookstore, he shouted, “The time has come!” and marched off into the metaphorical sunset.

“My my, he is dedicated,” Lilly remarked as she finished her tea.

“Are you sure about this, Hisao?” Hanako asked, her expression twisted into a combination of confusion and apprehension.

I made eye contact with her and gently held her hands in my own. Smiling gently as I allowed myself to get lost in her alluring amethyst gaze, I slowly responded, “Hana, I have never been less sure about anything in my entire life.”

+++
Next Chapter

Huzzah, the forum has returned to working order! I can now unleash my insanity upon you! Fly, my pretties, fly!

…Ahem…

Not even a large crowd can prevent Hanako from rockin’ out. Probably helps that rock concerts generally occur at night.

Yeah, I’m using alternating viewpoints –just the two, nothing too fancy, just like my odd tendency to like Kenji as a character –I find his insanity endearing, as it appeals to my own warped thought processes.

Anyway, next week, tea and memories, such a lovely combination. Not as good as milk and Oreos, though. Or tequila and scotch. It’s called a Kilted Mexican for a reason, folks.

The café itself was pretty typical for a bookstore café, or any café, really. Barely a dozen small wooden tables with metal and plastic chairs arrayed in rows filled the cafe, either shoved along light blue walls or tucked into corners like ours was.

I count four uses of the word 'cafe' within these two sentences. Two of them are fine:
"a bookstore café, or any café, really"
However, the other two ought to be 'place' and 'room' respectively

a security risk do to drug use,

This is due for a change.

Is this leading to the infamous 'Tokyo Incident' referenced in H&K:MD?

Granted, his plans sometimes devolve into “run for your fucking life,” but it’s the thought that counts. And whether or not you’re wearing a bullet proof vest.

I think you already used that one in one of your earlier chapters.

Is this leading to the infamous 'Tokyo Incident' referenced in H&K:MD?

Wasn't it the "Kyoto" incident?

Helbereth wrote: I count four uses of the word 'cafe' within these two sentences. Two of them are fine:
"a bookstore café, or any café, really"
However, the other two ought to be 'place' and 'room' respectively

Edited, thanks; I missed your mad editing skillz

a security risk do to drug use,

This is due for a change.

D'oh! Fixed.

Is this leading to the infamous 'Tokyo Incident' referenced in H&K:MD?

What Mirage said :

Wasn't it the "Kyoto" incident?

Indeed. Kyoto, the anagram lovers Tokyo.

It's easy for me to tell them apart, because for me Kyoto= Emperor Storage, and Tokyo= Edo (being a nineteenth century historian can be useful in the oddest ways sometimes. Although it doesn't help with my newfound obsession with tanks...)

Mirage_GSM wrote:

Granted, his plans sometimes devolve into “run for your fucking life,” but it’s the thought that counts. And whether or not you’re wearing a bullet proof vest.

I think you already used that one in one of your earlier chapters.

Probably; my memory can be pretty scattered about things. At least I used it in a different fic

Thanks for the edits and for reading, folks.

“You don’t have to be blood to be family.” –George Feeny

Previous Chapter

Chapter Three (Hanako): Echoes of the Past


The only other thing to survive the fire that forever changed my life was the last family photo my parents had had made. I’m still not sure how it managed to find its way into my hands that night –I think my mother handed it to me before the fire claimed her- but, singed and charred along the edges, it had pulled through the fire relatively intact.

For the longest time I couldn’t bear to look at it. Carefully framed and wrapped, I had let it sit at the bottom of a box of books. My senior year of high school, though, I decided I could look at it again. It hurt, a lot, but for the first time in years, I was able to look into the smiling faces of my parents again. Frozen in time, blissfully unaware of the fate that would befall us, reassuring me at the same time my heart broke at the site of them.

I couldn’t stand to have it out, yet, so it spent most of its time in the box. I always took it out during my birthday, though, to remember the good memories, and help fight off the bad ones.

It was near the end of the semester, the evening before we were going on the road trip. I was a little worried about letting Kenji plan the whole trip, but he had been corroborating with Hisao, who seemed confident and had told me not to worry too much. I still did, of course, but Hisao assured me Kenji’s plan was a good one, so I decided to let him handle it. There wasn’t too much he could screw up, after all; getting from point A to point B on an island isn’t rocket science, after all.

Though my birthday had passed relatively recently, I was once again holding that photo in my hands, its smooth cherry wood frame soothing against my skin. I was hunched over on my bed, my eyes closed and held tight against the tears that threatened to work their way out. Lilly was sitting on the floor, drinking tea using the fold out table we used for such a purpose. She had come in a little while ago, and I didn’t have the nerve to ask her to come back later, and I wanted to finish what I had started that night.

“Everything alright, Hanako?” Lilly asked, her head perked up a bit as she sipped her tea.

Hoping she wouldn’t pry further, I managed to reply, “j-just thinking.”

Actually, I was praying. Sort of. It was less of a prayer and more of a plea. Even now, so many years later, I still remember what I asked of my parents that night:

Watch over us and please, keep us safe.

I stayed clutching the photo for a minute, silently working to calm my overworked mind with a well chosen tranquility meditation. When I was finished, I looked up towards Lilly, who was still sipping her tea, “May I join you?”

Lilly smiled and nodded, “of course. May I ask what you were thinking about?”

“The trip,” I said, kneeling down across from Lilly and pouring myself some tea. As I did so I placed the frame on the table without thinking. Its light wooden thud attracted Lilly’s attention.

“It’s j-just an o-old photo,” I explained as Lilly’s ear’s perked at the sound.

Lilly nodded, her expression thoughtful. I wondered if she was connecting the dots. It occurred to me then that I had never really spoken about my parents with her. Except for a few snippets with my therapist, I’d never really said much about them to anyone. If anyone deserved to know more, it was Lilly. Hisao, too, but one thing at a time.

“A photo of m-me with my p-p-parents s-s-survived the fire,” I muttered at my tea cup.

Lilly nodded, probably too afraid to say anything. I could imagine a few questions hovering in her mind, and her being too worried to ask any of them. Part of me wanted her to ask, because like I said, if anyone deserved to know, it was her, and I wasn’t ready to tell of my own volition, if that makes any sense. On the other hand, if I wasn’t ready to tell without a push, maybe I wasn’t ready to tell her at all. That had never stopped me before, though; not with her, and not with Hisao, either.

Sighing, I figured I’d say the obvious question, “w-would you like me to d-describe them f-for-y-you?”

Lilly seemed surprised by my question. She sipped her tea quietly for a moment, then turned her head towards me and asked, “May I be frank?”

“Always,” I responded, “y-you know it upsets me when you’re n-not.”

Lilly smiled weakly, “very well. Yes, I would like to know. I also don’t want you to do anything you are uncomfortable with.”

I didn’t respond at first. I drank my tea silently, the photo lying on the table, waiting to return to its old storage place. Lilly didn’t say anything more, her expression thoughtful, forlorn, and clearly concerned. Whether she was concerned about me or her own frankness, I wasn’t sure; knowing her, probably both.

Part of me wanted to tell her, as I said earlier twice now. Another part was worried about what might happen if I did; breaking down before the trip would be a very bad thing, and if it affected the trip, well, that kind of guilt would tear at me forever. Either way, though, I had to make a decision, and maybe voicing an anxiety, if not the ones regarding the trip, would help me feel less worried.

Steeling myself for whatever might happen, I set down my tea and once again cradled the photo in my hands. I quietly traced the outline of my parent’s features for a moment, collecting my thoughts, before bringing them to voice:

“…my father had dark brown hair, the color of dark chocolate… He had a beard, not too shaggy, but it always tickled when he hugged me… His eyes were the same color as his hair, and they had this look to them…” why I was explaining a type of gaze to a blind woman or managing to not stutter, I had no idea. I hadn’t lost my shit yet, though, so I rolled with it, “it seemed to be searching for answers, even to questions you didn’t know were there…”

“Hisao has said you have a similar look about you,” Lilly quietly mused, more to herself then to me, I expect.

I nodded despite the futility of the gesture, “he taught me to play chess. I never beat him. He said…someday…”

Move on to something else, think of something else, oh for the love of Buddha I needed to think of anything else, “I have the same hair color as my mother…”

“The color of royalty,” Lilly mused.

I nodded once as a few tears formed in my eyes, “y-yeah… She always had her hair short, though. It barely went past her ears, because I liked to pull at it –it was… soft…” I coughed and choked back some tears, smiling despite the memories as I remembered Hisao saying something similar about my own hair, “Her eyes were a bit darker than mine, with hints of dark blue…”

I stopped and let the few tears that had formed quietly fall away. The breakdown I had dreaded never came. The flashback to that terrible night stayed sequestered, kept at bay by the calming aura of my friend, and the somewhat corny sentiment that my parents were still with me, in a way, watching over me and the new life I had built for myself. Cycles of rebirth and destruction are weird like that; from the ashes of the house fire had come a new life for me, one I had nearly thrown away to live my days in misery and solitude. That knowledge helped ease my worries about the trip; I couldn’t go with my old family, but I was going with my new one, and I’d enjoy it just as much because of it.

I coughed again and finished my tea silently. Lilly did the same, though I could tell something was still on her mind. When I was finished with my tea I packed up the photo, putting it to rest until I needed it again. After that, the stifling air I had created dissipated, and we resumed a more relaxed attitude as we went about the nightly routine. We also had to look over our bags for the trip the next day, which provided a nice mental distraction for each of us.

I was going over my packed bags for the umpteenth time when Lilly spoke up, “Hanako, may I speak to you some more?”

“O-okay,” hopefully it wasn’t about my parents.

Slowly easing herself up from her bed, she carefully ambled her way toward my own. After feeling out the edge, she gently sat down. I sat down next to her and waited. For a while she didn’t say anything, her cloudy blue eyes aimed towards the wall ahead of us, her hands in her lap.

“You mentioned you were worried about the trip,” she started, “I’m a bit nervous about it, too, though for different reasons, obviously.”

That got a small smile out of me. Lilly smiled, too, but it was a well practiced false smile, “one time, when Akira and I were still living together –I was around fourteen- Akira had to work late. I was making dinner, but I ran out of an ingredient. I decided to go into town to buy it. Alone.”

Lilly paused, sighing lightly and grimacing. I placed my hand over hers and she smiled genuinely before continuing, “Well, traffic was rather loud that afternoon, and… I got lost. Traffic noise has always disoriented me, and I ended up losing track of where I was going. I had no idea where I was, how I had got there, or where to go to get back to a place I would recognize,” she snorted at the thought; she really hated being faced with her own limitations, “I ended up breaking down and crawling under a bench in terror. Crying like the defenseless child I was as the city noise pounded my ears and drowned out my thoughts.”

She turned her head to face me, her eyes aimed towards the window. Thin trails of fresh tears had streamed their way down her pale cheeks, but she wasn’t actively crying, “Eventually, someone found me and led me to the police. They called Akira and she took me back home. I wasn’t allowed to leave the house on my own for months.”

That’s when I realized why she was telling me this. Wiping her face carefully with her sleeve, she said, “I don’t mind walking in cities on my own, and now can navigate them rather well, but, ever since then, one of my greatest fears has been getting lost in a city….”

“And Tokyo’s a big city,” I declared.

Lilly nodded and smirked weakly, “quite. I know it’s a silly thing to be worried about, and I should know better at my age, but-”

I quickly grabbed Lilly in a hug, startling her a little as I wrapped my arms around her. Once she had relaxed and settled into the embrace, I whispered, “d-don’t worry, Lilly. I’ll take very good care of you while we’re there.”

Lilly chuckled, “thank you, Hanako. I have the utmost faith in you.”

“I won’t let you down,” I promised, slowly pulling away. Smiling, Lilly hefted herself up to get back to checking her bags. As she did so, I added, “I’m also sure Kenji won’t let anything bad happen, either.”

Lilly’s sigh told me she was as doubtful of that statement as I was.

+++
Next Chapter

Let the lambasting begin! Although I’d prefer a flambe if you got it. Either way, these emotionally heavy chapters are a pain in the balls to write and revise.

Obviously Hanako has some anxieties about the upcoming road trip. I wanted that out and dealt with in a roundabout way, since dealing with it directly would be difficult until they’re actually at the concert. And then my brain broke and I have no idea what I was thinking, but I tried to make it work out somehow; hopefully I succeeded.

And, if she wasn’t the only one with reservations, all the better, since I figure something like that might set off Lilly, as she seems to have issues with lack of control (ie, panicking in her route whenever something happens to Hisao.)

Kinda like her cousin in that way.

Anywho, the astute of you may remember that photo from H&K: MD, Mystery Six to be precise. It’s not inconceivable (inconceivable!) that Hanako’s mother would grab a photo from the nightstand on her way to try and escape the house, especially in a culture that puts such strong emphasis on familial ties and bonds. And it let me practice writing deep and thoughtful stuff, which I kinda suck at.

Next time, Hisao has a visit with a doctor, and a wrench gets thrown in the trip before it even starts, because if things went according to plan, life would be boring, and fuck that noise.