Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Happy Endings, And Other Lies ❯ Happy Endings: 11 ( Chapter 11 )

Sometimes I feel like a side character in someone else’s story. This is an unusual feeling for me, so I was examining the sensation. Eventually it went away.

You can use tropes, repeating old ideas, or gimmicks, which will only work once. This is how things are in creative media. Skill and talent make up the difference, and talent is just the name lazy people use to describe excruciating effort and hard work by the people who actually do it. Talent is an excuse word. My roomates were not talented. They worked at it very hard. Except there was a brittle quality to Nanako’s voice acting, and the tendency of Kyouya to jump to practical shortcuts, which while excellent for problem solving, rarely produced a product we were completely happy with. After a month of classes and a new group project assigned, I have to say I have misgivings about the direction they are taking. I worry about burnout. Ironically, all the drama around me if improving my own productivity, inspiring twists from the barest descriptions I’d gotten from my Service Club days, and these made for plot and character development which wasn’t factual, but made for good reading despite this.

I think my friends from Soubu would be pleased, even Tobe who’d become some kind of sports drink promoter with a bikini model under each arm. Losing his heart to Ebina had improved him too, and the dumb smile worked on jocks who bought sports drinks, and nerds who wanted to have a bikini model under each arm.

I had heard that Hayama had gone off to law school, with Miura still chasing him. It was ironic, considering, that in high school I’d considered him to be from the same class as Yukinoshita when in fact his parents were functionaries at one of their companies, lawyers on their staff rather than equals. His confession to Haruno, implied but never stated by either party, is only half of the bad blood between himself and Yukino. There was also something about a classroom betrayal of trust in Middle School, which Yukino had not elaborated beyond a small speech about jealousy and the need to carry her school shoes and recorder home every day. It was a sad story for someone and was a big part of what made her so cold to others. I suppose, on consideration, we did have more in common than at first glance. So Shizuka did understand that much. I was mulling how to deal with this issue in my book series. I was still writing about a novel every month, though editing the first draft took another month. I have to keep the quality high or lose sales as a result, and high quality will lead to the eventual anime contract, and I really want that.

I had been too wrapped up in myself to realize that Nana and Hashiba were working the same job together at a local Lawson market. Stocking shelves was a dull job, but it was part time and would pay their bills, so more power do them. Shinoaki didn’t seem bothered by this, though she probably exhausted him nightly. The brewing frisson between the blonde and the manager just continued on at a personal level, probably. Though I won’t speak to whatever Nana does when she hears them going at it in the room over her head.

For all that I was writing when I couldn’t sleep, and taking naps after school. It helped. Haruno would sometimes contact me on a private Line channel and tease me, as she liked to. Saki would also do that. Yui was quiet, though Komachi messaged me that she’d see our friend holding hands with Totsuka, so maybe she’d found someone ready to be with her. Good for them both.

I sent polite messages with updates on my work and pictures to Yukino. She would respond after a suitable time with updates of her own, and plenty of context in her phrasing. Like me, she had mastered full Japanese language so enjoyed the difficult words for their layers of meaning. Maybe that made us snobs, but it was fun. She sent me a picture of Haruno snoozing on a couch with a poem she wrote about tigresses, filled in innuendo. Yukino is interesting. I hope I can keep up.

We were granted a few days vacation, most of which I’d used to finish editing the 6th volume of my novel series. I could have gone home to see people but with only a few days it wasn’t worth the cost, much less all the travel time. I’d wait for a longer break, like summer.

My classes on publishing and contracts were very helpful, as in I could use the tips immediately. I contracted an actual literary agent to help with publishing deals, for a better percentage from sales, and to help deal with the anime contract that was still evolving. I’m glad I don’t have to work at a Lawson mart to pay for groceries, but my writing is a job all by itself. Slightly larger checks were deposited into my account so I saw advantage quickly. College was becoming more practically useful. My housemates worked on their portfolios between classes, homework, jobs, sleeping, and that other thing two of them were doing. They got through the second month without rings or morning sickness so I guess they’re being at least a bit smart about it. Not that them getting married is a bad idea. Far from it. With that kind of physical chemistry it’s the obvious answer. Its just not something Nana will be happy about.

One morning she turned up looking unwell and I made like a housemom and took her temperature. Fever. Not high, but she was sick.

“Stay home today. You’re sick. I’ll cook you some miso soup and rice gruel. I’ll come back after school with some leek for soup. Can you remember to stay warm and hydrated?” she grunted assent, drank the miso, spooning rice gruel into her mouth as I was leaving. She looked half dead with exhaustion. She’s been studying a script for an anime project, which will require her and her classmates to travel all the way up to Tokyo and get lodgings for several nights in order to record their voices on professional equipment for a full grade. And it was worth a lot so the pressure was very high. I am not going to step back and pretend this ‘isn’t my business’ and just let her fail. My reputation as a playboy with a heart as black as my gaze is slander, of course. The Service Club knows my real nature: incisive but kind. Well, effective anyway. Ebina would never call me kind, even if Tobe says I’m a ‘bro’. I may have called in a favor to the web-hosting company to add banners for both my book and Tobe’s sports drink to the website that hates me. I even saw a noticeable uptick in sales once I did. I sent Ebina an anonymous fruit basket as thanks, and had Miura film her reaction using a wild came camera she first mounted and then collected later. And I may have posted that video to WeTube. Anonymously.

What? Don’t judge me.

It seems that a week ago Nana invited Hashiba Kyouka out to a private Karaoke booth and sang with him after work. He came back confused and a quick sniff by Shinoaki removed any jealousy potential, though he was just baffled for some reason.

“She loves to sing… but she’s bad at it. How can this be? In the future…” he started to mumble and didn’t finish. Lots of people like to sing and are bad at it. Its part of why people get drunk at Karaoke clubs. Laughing at bad singing is apparently the point. I don’t drink so I’m not good company at such places. And I don’t do mixers because if I did I might get asked out by some quiet girl who then seduces me in her own bedroom, kicks me out with a promise we are strangers and then her mom marries my dad and we have a very awkward home life for around 11 more episodes, complete with not-incest and conflicted feelings for my sensei who is now my older sister. A reasonable person would have moved out and the end of Episode One. Just saying. So no karaoke for me.

Anyway, Hashiba decided to talk to Nana about voice lessons and music training because it’s sort of aligned with voice acting. Many voice actresses also sing the songs for their anime, and many are required to line dance with silly arm gestures, often in sync, in the promotional concerts. It was an affectation I would never understand, however I must admit that after attending Soubu I’m in the top 1% of the nation. My semi-girlfriend is practically royalty. So my senses for normal may be a bit off.

I think the workload of singing practice and voice acting and trying to memorize all those lines properly, with good emotional delivery is too much for her. I resolved to pick up some good stock-making materials and bonito flakes for a full meal with all the vitamins and nutrients I could give the girl. A villain would just watch the fallout and failure and laugh. I’m not a villain.

School was good and the market ended up with two heavy bags of groceries in a late spring downpour. I got home wet and changed clothes. Unlike most protagonists I do not immediately catch fever and nearly die after getting wet by a rain storm. Nara has gentle weather. I just laughed and hung up my clothes to dry in my room before prepping the stew I had in mind for Nana. The others joined us and helped our smelly friend sit at the table. She burbled miserably and started crying at the taste of home, apparently. Something about Grandma and Lake Biwa. I didn’t catch it through Hashiba had spent enough time with the woman to understand her when she was in her more extreme moods.

I gave her a pill for her fever, something over the counter, and sent her to bed after dinner. She’d need to leave for Tokyo in two days, one if she wanted to be rested when she arrived.

The next morning her fever broke and she cleaned up, thanked us for our help and went to school as usual, still studying the script. That night she headed for the train station and the transfers via Shinkansen up to Kyoto and then Tokyo. I could only hope she would be okay.

Reports the following afternoon were less good. She’d choked during session and humiliated herself and wrecked the project for her group. They were mad, furious even, and Nana couldn’t stop crying. I thought about this while she returned to Nara by trains once more. She LIKED to sing. She wasn’t good at it, but training could fix a lot. Once she started hearing the mistakes she could fix them and sing better. With training she’d gain enough skill to be able to do what she wanted, and drive was SO important towards success. I wouldn’t be a writer if I wasn’t out to spite all those people who called me ugly and mean, and look at the success I’ve already found, and friends who tell those people to suck it. Even stupid Tobe was happier for knowing me.

So could I help this girl? Kyouya apparently had gone with her to Tokyo and was with her now on the way back, trying to keep her together between bouts of crying.

You know what songs are both hard and easy to sing? American music from the 1980’s New Wave. British too. I found some tracks and forwarded an easy one to her from MeTube, asking her to listen to it and trying singing it when she gets back. They’re good training and popular in both Japan and across Southeast Asia. The Philippines are huge fans of 80’s music.

++++++

The school festival came, and it was time for the closing act, but the singer we’d booked, a famous graduate of the school, backed out with voice problems at the last possible minute. Kyouya got that look he gets sometimes when he’s figuring a million solutions to problems and narrowing it down to something that would work. The band was there, and could play all sorts of cover songs.

“I’ve got it. Listen to this,” he said and poked a set of earbuds into Nana’s ears. She listened, a couple times. Then once more. The band was listening too, and said they knew the song. The guitarist was practicing back stage to get the fingering right. The MC was distracting the audience with a bit of Manzai comedy with a friend as the straight man. We had maybe 3 more minutes.

“Okay. I can do this,” Nana promised. She stepped out on the stage in a bunny girl outfit, grabbed the mic and the guitar burst out with the opening riff to God Knows. She sang her heart out and sounded good, on key, and loud enough to pull it off. It was a hit, and the audience loved the reference to the very recent and super-popular anime tune. It was a great way to end the festival and she hugged Kyouya after she found him backstage. He seemed happy, though Shinoaki was less so. I’d let the three of them work that out.

Maybe I’ll need to set out the mop and bucket again.