Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Happy Endings, And Other Lies ❯ Happy Endings: 16 ( Chapter 16 )

“Hikki?” asked Yui from her apartment doorway. I was standing there to meet with her and Totsuka, by appointment. “Are you wearing a suit? You look like a Yakuza with those sunglasses.”

She looked around. “Where’s Yukino?” she asked.

“Visiting Haruno. I think she wanted to rub it in about the Christmas Cake. Its Haruno’s birthday tomorrow.”

“Isn’t she only turning 23? She’s not cake yet,” wrinkled Yui in thought. She wore her hair differently, grown out past her shoulders. It had been a couple years.

“Are you liking how you’re portrayed in the anime?” I asked her, accepting her invitation inside and removing my shoes. She poured me some tea, the same blend that Yukinoshita used to serve at club. I nodded after sipping.

“Totsuka had a shoot this morning, some tennis clothing company. He’ll be back later,” she explained. We sipped tea and looked at each other. She looked a bit thinner than I had last seen her. Lost the babyfat of youth and stretched into the smoother curves and sharper edges of womanhood. She was lovely.

“I had to change my hairstyle because of all the attention. I’m glad I don’t wear that color anymore. It would have been so embarrassing to get mobbed by fans. Did you have to turn me into a tragic girl next door?”

“Some people recognize me, but the sunglasses really help. You’re not the first to compare me to a yakuza. Yukino always laughs when she hears that in the wild. Keeps threatening to get some aneesan tattoos for cosplay. Her mother has forbidden it, so she’s just that much more determined. And your fame can be used, if you want to. Is being an office lady that satisfying?” I asked her. She sighed.

“Not very. Saika comforts me, and his career is good. I might not have to keep doing this if we marry and have kids. He thinks I’ll be a good Mom.”

“I think so too. If things weren’t so complicated I could have been happy with you myself. If I wasn’t so messed up. Thank you for sitting by my bedside. I never said that before, but I am grateful to you. As I am I would have tormented you, and you deserve better with a man who loves you entirely, for who you are.”

“Saika does. He tells me. Often.”

“I want your permission to do something with my story, and I want you to know that the story isn’t the real you. You know that,” I warned her. She nodded after a bit. I told her what I planned. She started crying after a while. I let her cry. Totsuka unlocked the door, finding his girlfriend crying and me sitting there all stoic. He clenched and released after a moment. I think he wanted to slug me. I gestured to her, so he sat and held her and I told him what I planned for the books.

“That’s heavy. Really heavy. Will the studio even go for that?”

“We’re talking about a movie to wrap it up. And not some damned Clip-show begging for another movie, but a Makoto Shinkai Fincher fusion rip off that makes End of Evangelion look lightweight.”

“So you’re going to kill Asuka on the shore of a red sea of goo?” he asked, confused.

“Oh, right. You haven’t been reading my books. No, not like that. I’m getting used to talking to art people and it’s a lot of references to show off you education in popular media. No, the ending is going to build up to him rejecting Yui and then getting rejected by Yukino, wrecking the Service Club for good and leaving him alone at the end of the series, thus proving the Title correct. I need the closure. The problem for Yui is she’ll probably get shrines around Japan as the Kami of Discarded Osanananjimi. The hair change will help but I suspect there’s going to be a lot of figurines made to place at shrines. Both stone and cast aluminum. And phone straps. And teeshirts. And posters. ShinoAni has an illustration she’s working on. Its going to be huge. I asked her to funnel a percentage your way since its your likeness.”

“So that’s why she’s crying,” Totsuka figured out.

“It’s a lot to take in. You should probably propose already,” I told him. He nodded and retrieved a ringbox from a pocket.

“Yui, will you be mine?” he said, kneeling before her. She just cried more and hugged him. I excused myself. Well. That was a thing.

++++++++

I decided to meet with Saki in person, in public, and alone. I was secure enough in my marriage to do this properly because she deserved the respect to say what she meant. Shiiou University was in Tokyo and required several changes of trains to get there, but get there I did, dressed as a Yakuza as usual. Most people never saw past that because, ironically, it was the girls in my anime who got the most recognition. Not me.

The school was concrete, glass, and steel office buildings, built to withstand earthquakes and rioting during the 1960’s counter-occupation movement. The American military did withdraw back to bases eventually, and the rebuilding of the Japanese industries eventually surpassed the American factories thanks to modernization so it wasn’t wasted, but the concrete was harsh and very un-Japanese looking. For an arts school it was counter intuitive. Still, the graduates had a lot of local contacts in industries and several of the animation studios I was working with consisted of graduates from here. There was even an anime based here a decade ago. The club existed, something Saki mentioned.

I saw her sitting in a cafeteria, sipping coffee, perusing a fashion magazine and sneering. I grabbed a coffee and settled down opposite her, waiting.

“What?” she snarled, then looked up. “Hachiman?”

“Taishi told me where to find you. He worries, you know.”

“The suit matches your personality. The cut isn’t great though. You look like a Yakuza. And not a boss either.”

“And you are lovely as ever.”

“Kuroi pantsu? Really? Was that your idea?” she smirked. “Do you know how many men have hit on me with that line since broadcast?”

“Want some steak with that whine?” I taunted her. “It was fiction. Besides, you can’t hate being a bit of a sex symbol, right?”

“Thanks for the lingerie idea. It’s paying my rent.” She blushed. It was moments like this which had made me seriously interested in her. Her website was linked to ours and she sold the Kuroi Pantsu set with significant markup from a copycat sweatshop which also sold to several of the better known brands in America. Housewives loved it, apparently. She’d had to hire more shipper staff.

“I’m trying to get a movie deal for the conclusion of my anime. I wanted your permission to use your likeness in the sequel. It would mean warping the end and the hero goes to Nara, to Okami Arts, and you become the love interest. Naturally this isn’t what happens in real life, but for the story that would be you. I’d have to invent all sorts of plot there and romance, because there’s a lot of interest in that.”

“Focus groups, right?” she taunted.

“Yes, they have focus groups. You wouldn’t believe how many people are working on this anime. There are literally hundreds whose jobs are tied up in my decisions as the original creator,” I explained.

“But what about the second season?” she asked.

“The studio wants to stretch it to build tension and then shift to a feature film for the conclusion. Interest is there. The directors want to show off. If that doesn’t get approved we’ll end it as planned at the end of season two, which will affect the episodes and require a lot of cuts. I wanted your permission because something has to be developed in the final bits to hint at your character. There might also be some hate mail.”

“Hate mail?” she asked.

“Thieving Cat accusations. The Yukino fans are seriously die hard. And they don’t even know the reality that I’m actually married to her,” I said, noting the sour reaction in her face. “To say nothing of the Yui fans who are going to be even more outraged when the see the ending.”

“How is Yui?” asked Saki.

“She got engaged this morning. Saika asked her while I was there. So she’s crying, of course.”

“That girl.”

“She’s still a Nice Girl. A romance with me would have destroyed her. I can’t have that on my conscience.”

“And is that why you discarded me?” she accused, suddenly angry.

“It’s why I’m asking you, now, if you’ll allow me to use your image and likeness in my continuation stories as my protagonists actual future love interest. Possibly a triangle with Haruno.”

“I’m nothing like Haruno,” objected Saki.

“Precisely. How do you feel about being the misunderstood nice girl with gritty determination not to be cast aside? That was how I was planning to write your character. There’s also the symmetry with our siblings. Those two are totally going to give us nieces and nephews to spoil.”

“True.”

“So what do you say?” I asked her.

“I’m game as long as it doesn’t cause problems with Yukino. What about Haruno? Won’t this cause a scandal for their family?”

“The nature of fiction is mysterious. Have you noticed anything interesting in trends for Jewelry?” I changed the subject. 

“A lot of socialites and mistresses are wearing a type of web-design-motif with metal rings and necklaces, often with large gemstones, sapphires and rubies.”

I smiled.

“What?” she said, suspicious.

I offered out my left hand for her to examine.

“Isn’t that the same color?” she muttered. She blinked, getting it. “That was you!”

I grinned.

“I offered Yukino the first one for our engagement. I meet the most interesting people lurking in alleys around college campuses.”

“Huh. So fictional mistress or legal one in a continuation following the climactic result of a major motion picture. Haruno will be thrilled.”

“How about you? You’ll need to actually visit Okami Arts when we get closer to time. ShinoAki will need to get more stills and paint you. You might become a sex symbol.”

“Haruno is a sex symbol.”

“Sure, but she knows that. This will be about you, just as much. Also, the hero won’t be a huge success. He’ll be a dejected failure trying to avoid mediocrity by hiding out in an arts school.”

“Isn’t that Meta?” she said, trying out the word she’d heard from the Literature students on campus.

“Very much so. My fans eat it up.”

“Okay. Okay. This will be interesting. Make sure you write me as an up and coming fashion designer struggling from poverty to make her designs seen. Or something like that. Only not so cringey.”

We talked about family and school memories for the next while before she had to leave for class. It had been an interesting day.