Hisao and Kenji: Masterful One Shots! Winter Update!
Posted: Sat May 11, 2013 10:50 am
Some folks have expressed a desire for more Kenji and Hisao related drunken antics. Never one to deny my audience, or an excuse to drink, I present the following one shot, which would chronologically take place three or four months before my new summer series, a few days before the trimester break in March.
Since the main H&K table of contents was getting a bit long (and the main story is concluded), I decided to make a thread for one shots in the H&K universe (I also needed an excuse to make a new Word document, because the other one was 3 megs, and that’s insane for a Word file; like that’s the size of a song, people.) For those not familiar with the zany awesomeness that is Hisao and Kenji: Master Detectives! (twang) the link is in my signature, and right here: Link says hi
Now, on with the show, where’s my tequila…
Also, I apologize if I offend any of my Canadian neighbors to the south (it’s a Michigan joke)
Insert Obvious Joke Here
“I don’t like it,” Kenji grunted.
“Less talking, more lifting,” I retorted, as I helped him move a large, flat screen TV into our dorm room for the night, “why did we have to borrow this again?”
“We do this every month,” Kenji replied.
“And every month I bitch about it,” I countered.
“At least it won’t give you a heart attack,” Kenji consoled.
“You hope,” I muttered.
I wouldn’t do it if I thought there was any danger, but the damn thing was heavy and hard to fit in our room, and complaining about it was distracting Kenji from his concerns about our guest for the night’s movie night.
Eventually we managed to haul the massive screen to the other side of the dorm room. Setting it down along the back wall, I paused to check my heart rate and calm my breathing, to be on the safe side.
“You okay?” Kenji asked as he started rooting through a box of cables and wires.
I paused a moment to make sure I was before responding, “Yep. You got everything else we need?”
“Got the cables, got the pizza rolls, got the Jack; we’re good to go,” Kenji stated.
“Do you have the movie?” I asked.
Kenji sighed, “Of course, man. Give me some credit.”
“Just being thorough,” I stated.
While Kenji hooked up the TV and our DVD player, I rearranged the chairs to face the screen. Fitting them between our beds and desks arranged along the side walls was a bit tricky, especially with the extra fold out chair and stool for the food tray, but I managed.
When everything was hooked up, Kenji stood up and gave the TV an affectionate pat, “we really need to buy one of these, and stop borrowing Masaki’s all the time.”
I shrugged, “we barely have room to borrow one, much less own it. Because, I might add, all of your boxes over there for that newsletter of yours.”
“The truth must be heard!” Kenji declared, raising his fist as he posed dramatically, and I half expected his gold and red scarf to start billowing behind him as he continued, “those halfwit Lib-Dem fascists at the school paper may not see my genius or believe in my revelations, but I shall reveal the truth to those who open their eyes.”
“Well, as long as that entails you running a small business out of our dorm –or at least keeping the stuff to do so here- no TV bigger then my desk,” I stated.
Kenji shrugged, “that’s fair, man. How are we on food and booze?”
I moved over to the arrayed snacks and bottles, scratching my chin as I confirmed our stock for the night, “well, we got the pizza rolls, the bagel bites, the microwave dumplings, and those pot stickers Hanako made for us. As for alcohol, a case of Sapporo and a bottle of Jack Daniels seems to be it.”
“Yeah, stock’s kinda low,” Kenji stated, sighing and running a hand through his unkempt black hair. With the dorm light glinting off his thick, round glasses, he muttered, “I still don’t like it; we barely know him.”
I sighed and rubbed my temple, absentmindedly rearranging some of my own, brown hair in the process, “what’s to know? He’s an international student with a hard-on for Japanese literature who happened to be working at the library when Lilly needed some help. The rest is, as they say, history.”
Not that I knew how appropriate that phrase was then; it just seemed like something that would quell Kenji’s paranoid mind. No such luck, of course.
“Okay, fine, but what do we really know about him?” Kenji replied, crossing his arms in agitation, “what if he’s one of them French Canucks always ranting about independence? Or some sort of plant by those Green Party whackjobs? Or worse, part of the Templar plot to conquer Canada as part of their invasion of the United States and their efforts to claim the rich, fertile marijuana fields of Kentucky?”
It took me a moment to process all that, but at least it had given Kenji a chance to vent himself. Pausing to sigh and catch his breath, I decided to counter his ramblings with facts –a poor prospect, I know, “well, first of all, he’s from Vancouver, so he’s not French Canadian –I’m pretty sure he mentioned being of straight English stock. Second, I don’t see how him being in Japan will help a fringe third party from a country where a monarch an ocean away has more power there than in her own nation. Third, what the hell is a Kentucky, and why would the Templars want pot?”
“To control the masses, obviously,” Kenji replied, rolling his eyes in exasperation, “did you learn nothing from that pamphlet I gave you?”
“Look,” I said, my patience with Kenji’s conspiracy theories running low that night (besides, it turned out the Templar’s were more interested in Mexico’s weed then America’s), “Lilly is my girlfriend’s best friend –more like a sister, really. George is Lilly’s boyfriend, and I think I owe it to Lilly to welcome the guy into our little misfit family. Frankly, I think we could use someone a little less… unorthodox in our lives.”
Kenji chuckled and nodded, “maybe we could, man. Still, you coulda said something before inviting him.”
“I knew how you’d react –we’re never getting our security deposit back now, by the way,” I said, pointing to a small hole in our white wall recently filled in with modeling paint and toothpaste, “so try and relax and welcome the guy?”
Kenji stepped over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. Looking my left ear in the eye, he slowly replied, “If it means that much to you, man, okay. And sorry for going all apeshit on you.”
I shrugged as Kenji lowered his hand, “I’m used to it.”
Kenji smirked and chuckled, but before he could step back someone knocked on the door.
“Campus security!” I heard a familiar, slightly deep voice declare, “We’re here for a random drug raid!”
“Fuck!” Kenji snapped, “They’re on to us man!”
With a fluidity and accuracy I had come to expect from my mildly disturbed friend, Kenji dove under his bed. The sounds of clanking and scraping told me he was donning his combat helmet and grabbing the double boiler pot he made me wear whenever we watched a war movie, “I’ll hold them off, you go out the window!”
“We’re on the third floor,” I reminded him, “and what are you gonna do, throw darts at them?”
My eyes wandered over to the door, where a dart board had been hung up. A picture of Shizune Hakamichi was tacked to the board, and several darts were imbedded in the wood, with one lone dart right in Shizune’s right iris.
“Besides,” I said as I stepped toward the door to open it,” I recognize that voice….”
I opened the door and was greeted by a familiar lanky blond woman in a pinstriped suit, “Yo, lookie what I found!”
I raised an eyebrow, then noticed what she was talking about; her left arm was hooked around George Williams’ neck, our guest for the night and then boyfriend of Lilly Satou. Short by Western standards, being roughly the same height as his current captor, Akira Satou, he had black hair and hazel eyes that presently looked highly confused and mildly frightened.
“Hey George,” I said, using English for the hell of it.
“Hi,” He said, in Japanese, “thanks for inviting me.”
“No problem,” glancing at Akira’s smirking face, I added, “I see you met Akira.”
“Indeed,” George replied.
“So, what brings you here?” I asked Akira.
Still hanging onto George, as if he might bolt for the nearest way out –which he looked like considering- Akira grinned and held up her other hand, which was holding two bottles wrapped in brown paper bags, “came by a day early for my usual Lilly grab for some time in Scotland, and decided to drop by. Met George at Lilly’s dorm, and when he said he had to leave to go here, I decided to tag along –I even brought some gifts!”
“You can’t just take us in like this!” I heard Kenji bark from under the bed, “We have rights, dammit!”
“Calm your sphincter, man,” I said, rolling my eyes and sighing.
Akira peered over me into the dorm, “Heh, sorry ‘bout that –couldn’t resist.”
“It’s George and Akira- you know, Lilly’s sister?” I asked.
“You let a woman enter our sacred Hall of Manliness?” Kenji snapped.
I sighed and rubbed my forehead as I heard Kenji crawl out from under the bed. When I stepped aside to let the two in, I was able to see Kenji stand up and dust himself off. He was wearing a costume combat helmet, painted olive drab. He was also holding a very old cast iron frying pan like a throwing spear, his other hand holding a pack of gum he must’ve dropped at some point and forgotten about.
Akira finally let go of George’s head and strolled into the room. Waving the two bottles in front of her, she said, “Now, is that anything to say to a person bearing gifts?”
Kenji raised an eyebrow, “maybe, if the drinks are poisoned or of such poor quality as to be insulting.”
Akira blinked for a moment before chuckling, “fair point. Kenji Setou, right?”
Akira stuck out her free hand, and I wondered how Kenji would react. Granted, he was less likely to blame everything on a feminist conspiracy in those days, but he was still very introverted and hermit-like, and didn’t take to meeting new people well. He just did a piss-poor job of handling it.
Kenji nodded and took the proffered hand, dropping the frying pan with a loud thunk to do so, “I guess denying it won’t do me any good, so sure. You’re Akira, then?”
“Yup, you’ve met my sister, Lilly,” Akira stated, raising an eyebrow as she learned that Kenji could muster a decently firm handshake when he had to.
When Kenji let go he glanced down to try and examine the bottles, “so, what’d you bring?”
“Scotch whiskey and Canadian whiskey; one gift from my people –well, half of my people- and one from George’s,” Akira replied.
Akira handed Kenji the bottles, which he carefully took, one in each hand. He moved over to his desk to unwrap and examine them. Eyeing them closely, he slowly looked over the two amber liquid filled bottles for a few moments, before turning back to Akira.
“Very nice; thank you,” Kenji stated, smirking lightly.
“No problem; I’m just awesomely generous like that,” Akira said, grinning.
“You’re Christian charity is appreciated,” Kenji quipped, which earned him an amused snort from Akira.
A thought struck me, and I turned to Akira, George still a pace behind me in front of the door, “hey, Akira, do you wanna stick around? We were gonna drink ourselves stupid and watch a movie –if you don’t have a flight to catch, that is.”
Since the main H&K table of contents was getting a bit long (and the main story is concluded), I decided to make a thread for one shots in the H&K universe (I also needed an excuse to make a new Word document, because the other one was 3 megs, and that’s insane for a Word file; like that’s the size of a song, people.) For those not familiar with the zany awesomeness that is Hisao and Kenji: Master Detectives! (twang) the link is in my signature, and right here: Link says hi
Now, on with the show, where’s my tequila…
Also, I apologize if I offend any of my Canadian neighbors to the south (it’s a Michigan joke)
Soon-hee Specials:Table des matières:
Hisao and Kenji: Drink Hard on a Couch 2: Electric Boogaloo (This Post) Part II Part III
Hisao and Kenji: Setting Up Shop
Hisao and Family: When She Smiles Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX
Hisao and Kenji: Apocalypse Cow Part II
Misha Birthday Special Part II
Welcome to the Family Part Gobble Gobble Part Gobble Gobble Gobble
To Have and To Hold –A Valentine’s Day Special Part II
Withdrawal By Faith Part II
Drink Hard on a Couch 3: Put the Mob Down! Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI
Poker Night Part II Part III Part IV Part V
Fighting for the Future –A H&K: MD! Birthday Special
Drink Hard on a Couch 4: Drink Free or Couch Hard Part II Part III Part IV Part V
First Meetings
Full Circle -A Father's Day Special
Christmas Meetings –A Soon-hee Special Part II Part III Part IV Part V
A Christmas Tale Part Two Part Three
Shining Middle Child -A Father's Day Special
Drink Hard on a Couch 6: The Recouchanence https://ks.renai.us/viewtopic.php?f=52&t=8639&p=239372#p239372 Part III Part III
Summer Swarm Part II Part III
From the MD thread:
A Masterful One-Shot: Sparring and Scarring
Drink Hard on a Couch –An HK: MD One Shot
Halloween Specials:
Hisao and Kenji and the Last Samurai!
Hisao and Akira(?!)- Terror in the Night!
Hisao and Akira(?!): Walla Walla Bing Bang!
Hisao and Kenji- Concrete Jungle
Drink Hard on a Couch 5: It Came From Beneath the Couch! Part Two Part Three Part Four
Insert Obvious Joke Here
Hisao and Kenji: Drink Hard on a Couch 2: Electric BoogalooThe Official H&K Universe Timeline
2009:
Apocalypse Cow
First Meetings
2010:
Withdrawal By Faith
Hisao and Kenji: Drink Hard on a Couch 2: Electric Boogaloo
Hanako and Hisao –Road to Tokyo
Hisao and Kenji and the Last Samurai!
Drink Hard on a Couch 3: Put the Mob Down!
2011:
Hisao and Kenji: Poker Night
Drink Hard on a Couch 4: Drink Free or Couch Hard
2012:
Fighting for the Future –A H&K: MD! Birthday Special
2013:
Hisao and Kenji: Setting Up Shop
2017:
Master Detective Mystery One: O Father, Where Art Thou?
A Masterful One-Shot: Sparring and Scarring
Mystery Two: Wherehouse, Warehouse?
Mystery Three: Mason-Free
2018:
Mystery Four: Templar, Templar
Mystery Five: Quia Peccavi Nimis
Mystery Six: The Final Showdown?
To Have and To Hold
Hisao and Akira(?!)- Terror in the Night!
2019:
Mystery Seven: Hisao and Kenji Versus the Predator
Mystery Eight: Art Seizery
Misha Birthday Special (Ending)
Welcome to the Family
Mystery Nine: The Illuminati’s Revenge!
Drink Hard on a Couch –An HK: MD One Shot
2020:
Mystery Ten: From Sea to Shining Sea
Mystery Eleven: Lending a Hand
Mystery Twelve: The Final Mystery?
Hisao and Akira(?!): Walla Walla Bing Bang!
2021:
Hisao and Family: When She Smiles
2023:
Hisao and Kenji-Concrete Jungle
Picking up the Pieces- A H&K: MD Christmas Special
2024:
The First Week -A Soon-hee Story
The Manila Tales –A Summer-ish Series
A Summer of Tales -A Summer Series
Christmas Meetings –A Soon-hee Special
2025:
Full Circle
“I don’t like it,” Kenji grunted.
“Less talking, more lifting,” I retorted, as I helped him move a large, flat screen TV into our dorm room for the night, “why did we have to borrow this again?”
“We do this every month,” Kenji replied.
“And every month I bitch about it,” I countered.
“At least it won’t give you a heart attack,” Kenji consoled.
“You hope,” I muttered.
I wouldn’t do it if I thought there was any danger, but the damn thing was heavy and hard to fit in our room, and complaining about it was distracting Kenji from his concerns about our guest for the night’s movie night.
Eventually we managed to haul the massive screen to the other side of the dorm room. Setting it down along the back wall, I paused to check my heart rate and calm my breathing, to be on the safe side.
“You okay?” Kenji asked as he started rooting through a box of cables and wires.
I paused a moment to make sure I was before responding, “Yep. You got everything else we need?”
“Got the cables, got the pizza rolls, got the Jack; we’re good to go,” Kenji stated.
“Do you have the movie?” I asked.
Kenji sighed, “Of course, man. Give me some credit.”
“Just being thorough,” I stated.
While Kenji hooked up the TV and our DVD player, I rearranged the chairs to face the screen. Fitting them between our beds and desks arranged along the side walls was a bit tricky, especially with the extra fold out chair and stool for the food tray, but I managed.
When everything was hooked up, Kenji stood up and gave the TV an affectionate pat, “we really need to buy one of these, and stop borrowing Masaki’s all the time.”
I shrugged, “we barely have room to borrow one, much less own it. Because, I might add, all of your boxes over there for that newsletter of yours.”
“The truth must be heard!” Kenji declared, raising his fist as he posed dramatically, and I half expected his gold and red scarf to start billowing behind him as he continued, “those halfwit Lib-Dem fascists at the school paper may not see my genius or believe in my revelations, but I shall reveal the truth to those who open their eyes.”
“Well, as long as that entails you running a small business out of our dorm –or at least keeping the stuff to do so here- no TV bigger then my desk,” I stated.
Kenji shrugged, “that’s fair, man. How are we on food and booze?”
I moved over to the arrayed snacks and bottles, scratching my chin as I confirmed our stock for the night, “well, we got the pizza rolls, the bagel bites, the microwave dumplings, and those pot stickers Hanako made for us. As for alcohol, a case of Sapporo and a bottle of Jack Daniels seems to be it.”
“Yeah, stock’s kinda low,” Kenji stated, sighing and running a hand through his unkempt black hair. With the dorm light glinting off his thick, round glasses, he muttered, “I still don’t like it; we barely know him.”
I sighed and rubbed my temple, absentmindedly rearranging some of my own, brown hair in the process, “what’s to know? He’s an international student with a hard-on for Japanese literature who happened to be working at the library when Lilly needed some help. The rest is, as they say, history.”
Not that I knew how appropriate that phrase was then; it just seemed like something that would quell Kenji’s paranoid mind. No such luck, of course.
“Okay, fine, but what do we really know about him?” Kenji replied, crossing his arms in agitation, “what if he’s one of them French Canucks always ranting about independence? Or some sort of plant by those Green Party whackjobs? Or worse, part of the Templar plot to conquer Canada as part of their invasion of the United States and their efforts to claim the rich, fertile marijuana fields of Kentucky?”
It took me a moment to process all that, but at least it had given Kenji a chance to vent himself. Pausing to sigh and catch his breath, I decided to counter his ramblings with facts –a poor prospect, I know, “well, first of all, he’s from Vancouver, so he’s not French Canadian –I’m pretty sure he mentioned being of straight English stock. Second, I don’t see how him being in Japan will help a fringe third party from a country where a monarch an ocean away has more power there than in her own nation. Third, what the hell is a Kentucky, and why would the Templars want pot?”
“To control the masses, obviously,” Kenji replied, rolling his eyes in exasperation, “did you learn nothing from that pamphlet I gave you?”
“Look,” I said, my patience with Kenji’s conspiracy theories running low that night (besides, it turned out the Templar’s were more interested in Mexico’s weed then America’s), “Lilly is my girlfriend’s best friend –more like a sister, really. George is Lilly’s boyfriend, and I think I owe it to Lilly to welcome the guy into our little misfit family. Frankly, I think we could use someone a little less… unorthodox in our lives.”
Kenji chuckled and nodded, “maybe we could, man. Still, you coulda said something before inviting him.”
“I knew how you’d react –we’re never getting our security deposit back now, by the way,” I said, pointing to a small hole in our white wall recently filled in with modeling paint and toothpaste, “so try and relax and welcome the guy?”
Kenji stepped over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. Looking my left ear in the eye, he slowly replied, “If it means that much to you, man, okay. And sorry for going all apeshit on you.”
I shrugged as Kenji lowered his hand, “I’m used to it.”
Kenji smirked and chuckled, but before he could step back someone knocked on the door.
“Campus security!” I heard a familiar, slightly deep voice declare, “We’re here for a random drug raid!”
“Fuck!” Kenji snapped, “They’re on to us man!”
With a fluidity and accuracy I had come to expect from my mildly disturbed friend, Kenji dove under his bed. The sounds of clanking and scraping told me he was donning his combat helmet and grabbing the double boiler pot he made me wear whenever we watched a war movie, “I’ll hold them off, you go out the window!”
“We’re on the third floor,” I reminded him, “and what are you gonna do, throw darts at them?”
My eyes wandered over to the door, where a dart board had been hung up. A picture of Shizune Hakamichi was tacked to the board, and several darts were imbedded in the wood, with one lone dart right in Shizune’s right iris.
“Besides,” I said as I stepped toward the door to open it,” I recognize that voice….”
I opened the door and was greeted by a familiar lanky blond woman in a pinstriped suit, “Yo, lookie what I found!”
I raised an eyebrow, then noticed what she was talking about; her left arm was hooked around George Williams’ neck, our guest for the night and then boyfriend of Lilly Satou. Short by Western standards, being roughly the same height as his current captor, Akira Satou, he had black hair and hazel eyes that presently looked highly confused and mildly frightened.
“Hey George,” I said, using English for the hell of it.
“Hi,” He said, in Japanese, “thanks for inviting me.”
“No problem,” glancing at Akira’s smirking face, I added, “I see you met Akira.”
“Indeed,” George replied.
“So, what brings you here?” I asked Akira.
Still hanging onto George, as if he might bolt for the nearest way out –which he looked like considering- Akira grinned and held up her other hand, which was holding two bottles wrapped in brown paper bags, “came by a day early for my usual Lilly grab for some time in Scotland, and decided to drop by. Met George at Lilly’s dorm, and when he said he had to leave to go here, I decided to tag along –I even brought some gifts!”
“You can’t just take us in like this!” I heard Kenji bark from under the bed, “We have rights, dammit!”
“Calm your sphincter, man,” I said, rolling my eyes and sighing.
Akira peered over me into the dorm, “Heh, sorry ‘bout that –couldn’t resist.”
“It’s George and Akira- you know, Lilly’s sister?” I asked.
“You let a woman enter our sacred Hall of Manliness?” Kenji snapped.
I sighed and rubbed my forehead as I heard Kenji crawl out from under the bed. When I stepped aside to let the two in, I was able to see Kenji stand up and dust himself off. He was wearing a costume combat helmet, painted olive drab. He was also holding a very old cast iron frying pan like a throwing spear, his other hand holding a pack of gum he must’ve dropped at some point and forgotten about.
Akira finally let go of George’s head and strolled into the room. Waving the two bottles in front of her, she said, “Now, is that anything to say to a person bearing gifts?”
Kenji raised an eyebrow, “maybe, if the drinks are poisoned or of such poor quality as to be insulting.”
Akira blinked for a moment before chuckling, “fair point. Kenji Setou, right?”
Akira stuck out her free hand, and I wondered how Kenji would react. Granted, he was less likely to blame everything on a feminist conspiracy in those days, but he was still very introverted and hermit-like, and didn’t take to meeting new people well. He just did a piss-poor job of handling it.
Kenji nodded and took the proffered hand, dropping the frying pan with a loud thunk to do so, “I guess denying it won’t do me any good, so sure. You’re Akira, then?”
“Yup, you’ve met my sister, Lilly,” Akira stated, raising an eyebrow as she learned that Kenji could muster a decently firm handshake when he had to.
When Kenji let go he glanced down to try and examine the bottles, “so, what’d you bring?”
“Scotch whiskey and Canadian whiskey; one gift from my people –well, half of my people- and one from George’s,” Akira replied.
Akira handed Kenji the bottles, which he carefully took, one in each hand. He moved over to his desk to unwrap and examine them. Eyeing them closely, he slowly looked over the two amber liquid filled bottles for a few moments, before turning back to Akira.
“Very nice; thank you,” Kenji stated, smirking lightly.
“No problem; I’m just awesomely generous like that,” Akira said, grinning.
“You’re Christian charity is appreciated,” Kenji quipped, which earned him an amused snort from Akira.
A thought struck me, and I turned to Akira, George still a pace behind me in front of the door, “hey, Akira, do you wanna stick around? We were gonna drink ourselves stupid and watch a movie –if you don’t have a flight to catch, that is.”
