Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Happy Endings, And Other Lies ❯ Happy Endings: 17 ( Chapter 17 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Chapter Seventeen

 

Returning to school and classes was a fascinating change of pace. I was getting used to the trains and able to nap on them. Yukino spent a lot of time editing my novel if I was sleeping. She was a dutiful wife and seemed content. Our marriage was remarkably smooth compared to all the drama and dismay I’d created in the books. This is probably why parents insist that young couples wait to get married, and are so upset when they marry too young. Sure, there are couples like ShinoAki and Kyouya, but that degree of physical compatibility and maturity are both exceedingly rare, a point towards Kyouya’s time travel claims I had to admit.

I explained my book series continuation to him one evening so he wouldn’t get upset about the overlap with his book.

“The key thing is my series is going to be about my loser character, even more bitter than before, and his love triangle. It’s not going to be about your romance with ShinoAki, except as a sideline reference comparison. So keep writing and don’t worry about it.”

“What about coordinating overlaps so they don’t contradict?” he asked.

“Ah, that’s the sweet part. You’re writing a time travel redo. Differences are just evidence of the time travel, so it’s fine.”

“How are you going to depict me,” asked Nanako suspiciously.

“Have you ever wanted to meet Yuigahama?” I asked her.

“What, from the anime? She’s real?” she asked me.

“Just as real as you are. She’s getting hitched. I can probably get you an invite to the wedding.”

“Anyone we know?” she asked.

“Saika asked her.”

“Who?” she asked, not recognizing the name.

“Totsuka. The tennis boy?” I explained. Recognition dawned.

“Uhm, wasn’t he supposed to be gay?” she asked.

“Hahahaha. No. He’s a male model. Helped me found the Fight Club Japan association with Tobe.”

“So he’s marrying Yui. She’s not exactly like the anime is she?” she asked.

“No. Not exactly. Her crush was real enough. And we were close friends in the Service Club. She stayed by my hospital bed when I was sick.”

“So did I,” reminded Yukino. “And Miura a few times, too.”

“Soubu is a more close-knit family that it appears.”

“His Name is Robert Paulson!” mocked Yukino in a fake male voice. She coughed.

“Eh?” asked ShinoAki from the other end of the table. “Who?”

“Nevermind, dear,” hushed Kyouya, eyeing my wife sternly.

“I have to say I like the atmosphere of college dinners like this. Even after months of getting used to it, the conversation is lively. Not like home,” admitted Yukino.

“I like being around all the people too. At home it was just me and Komachi for breakfast and dinner. My parents were always working. It wasn’t conducive to developing a good personality,” I admitted.

“So did Saki agree to your request?” Yukino asked me.

“Yes. How about Haruno? Did she take the bait?” I asked her. Yukino grinned the most evil grin I’d ever seen on her face. She looked a bit like Haruno just now; that was how evil her grin was.

“Exx-cellent!” I hissed. “We can finally stop that hamster-wheel activity of hers and get her to meet more people. Maybe she’ll meet someone she likes that isn’t spoken for. Or a politician.”

The sports OVA aired and was received well enough. The creative cheating and use of Zaimokuza was fun, as was the victory of the competing girls and their symbolic position in the cavalry game. Lots of metaphor, there. There would be several months break for the studios and then we’d get into production for season two. I was mostly done with the novels and all but the final were getting proofed at the publisher. There was a manga being drawn, though it was slow going to keep the quality high. I wasn’t involved in it much. I was more involved with my books and the anime, and discussion of the movie.

I went back and forth between school, business calls, and messages via email. Haruno showed up to complain I hadn’t come to her birthday party.

“I’m a married man, Haruno. I can’t be your Stripper Pole,” I pointed out. “I don’t do that sort of thing with anyone but Yukino.” She frowned at her younger sister, looking smug in the kitchen.

“Not even with Saki?” she finally tried.

“Only in the coming novel. And your character gets her time as well.”

“How are you able to do that, when you’re married to Yukino? Isn’t that like… cheating?” she asked, very confused. The dinner table between us contained dirty plates and various condiments and half full glasses.

“It’s fiction. And its romance for the broken hearted, which is a considerable portion of Japan so the market is huge. And your character is going to be the one to sees something in the broken guy her sister rejected and finds his honesty charming and real in a world full of lying old men and corruption. A guy who breaks your mask so easily.”

Haruno nodded. “You do, do that.” She shivered to herself as the breeze drifted through. “I thought Nara was supposed to be warmer than this?”

Aki got up and shut the window halfway. Better. Kyouya carried plates to the sink and helped Yukino wash and dry them. He’d been helping out in various ways from the beginning. As time allowed, anyway. Aki was still voracious so when they retired to his room it would be interesting to watch Haruno’s expression. I was actually looking forward to that. Yukino had a bet going on how her sister would react.

There were clouds building outside. There was a news banner running across the bottom of the screen about an oncoming tropical storm, double red flag so boats were staying in harbor.

“Haruno? You might want to stay the night. This storm is coming up fast,” offered Yukino.

“She can stay in my room with my futon,” offered ShinoAki.

“I’ve got a robe that might fit her,” offered Nana. They were equally busty and similar height. Haruno accepted as the huge drops of rain started to strike the windows hard. Kyouya shut the windows and he and I went out to close the shutters and latch them closed. We were drenched by the time we were done with downstairs and the wind was howling under the eaves. A flash somewhere. The lights dropped on the entire neighborhood, all at once. A boom of thunder followed. I heard a howl of disappointment from Aki. Probably lost work from her last save. The upper story shutters latched shut on the inside, rain smacking hard like getting hit by hail. This kind of weather never got to Chiba, but Nara was much further South, warmer and wetter and prone to typhoons. This was only a tropical storm, but the winds were strong. We got back inside and struggled with the door. Kyouya headed for the upstairs bathroom to strip down and warm up. I headed for the downstairs bath, only to discover a grinning Haruno in the tub.

“Hey lover boy!” she vamped. I sighed, shut the door, stripping down and drying myself on the towel while she offered taunts. I hung up my clothes to dry and walked in a towel to my shared room, Yukino rolling her eyes.

“I suspect my sister is actually a virgin,” once she shut the door.

“Her? After all the innuendoes?” And molestation and lingerie photos before I married? Her?

“I don’t know for sure. She chases men off because she’s overly aggressive. I imagine this is what Shizuka was like before she took up smoking.” I notice my wife was undressing rather than dressing me, and we laid down together for our usual nights exercise.

“That’s a disturbing thought. It will be useful in the book, however. Enough about her.” And we renewed our marriage in the usual way, with the rain rattling on the shutters, the wind howling and drowning out the noise from our neighbors, who were likewise engaged.

The next morning Haruno glared at us.

“Sleep well?” I teased.

“Not a wink. The… storm kept me up.”

“Right. The storm.”

“You know my room is right above yours?” she reminded me. Yukino grinned in a similar way to how Haruno used to a couple years ago.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” she smiled. “And I am so satisfied.”

“You would be. Ugh. I need a nap.”

“Later. Today you’re coming to class with us. You need to see the University. Maybe you’ll find a program you like and actually apply. What did you study at university?” I asked her, pretending I didn’t know.

“I was science track. Chemistry.”

“Well, this is Art school, so you’ll have to make do. How about meeting the gemstone lab guys? That’s chemistry.”

“That might be interesting,” she admitted. I don’t get to see her do science, and I’ve never seen her in anything but fashionable and provocative clothing, though that was probably because she enjoyed toying with me and infuriating Yukino. This was research. Emerging from behind our shuttered dorm found lots of downed debris in the roads being cleared by neighbors and crews of men from the town public works department. Somewhere down below was some women’s musical revue school, where all the actors were played by women, including women dressed as men. It was a whole thing apparently. I suspect I was going to be forced to attend one of these shows by Yukino to prove there was worthy culture down here, far from Tokyo. The Yuri of such programming did not appeal to me, but being a husband requires sacrifice. Maybe we could delay until Saki visited.

We walked to school in comfortable shoes. Haruno complained in her open toed fashion sandals with heels. Very stylish and totally impractical, which is typical for such things.

“Hachiman! Carry me!” she pouted. I complied, carrying her to the door of a sporting goods store that was opening. She bought comfortable shoes and thick socks, glaring the whole time.

We continued to class, hurrying to get there in time. Yukino escorted her sibling to the gemstone synthesis lab who provided most of our stones for the jewelry business. They made a profit, we got perfect stones without chemical traces to identify them as “lab grown” like those American ones, and we also made a profit selling the finished rings to our wealthy clients. Wives of important businessmen, wives of Diet and similar politicians of note in Japan, and eventually mistresses of powerful men, and those trying to show off.

Class, without Haruno to distract me, was more esoteric issues of publishing and licensing issues. It included information on how to contract rights to someone else’s creative property, such as a song, and the difference in cost between types of use, including remakes and covers.

After class I found Yukino crouched over a damaged folding table in the breakroom beside the synth lab, working on the website with the shipper guy. Haruno was discussing gem chemistry for Emerald synthesis, which was more complex than for Rubies and Sapphires, which were at the same materials as a ceramic coffee cup, only arranged differently with some trace elements for the colors. Many people did not know that, including myself until Haruno explained it. I kind of respect her for caring about actual science. There’s more to her than sex appeal. The lab guy was talking chemistry and pump systems and such needed for the growth solution and rough materials estimates. I know that lab emeralds are a thing, and they’re also doped to identify them from the real thing, which usually contains carbon inclusions and is produced by slave labor in Columbia while FARC guerillas keep them in line. I am not sure if FARC still exists. I think they disbanded. Some other thugs replaced them in the same region near the Venezuelan border. Lab emeralds cost less to produce and no slaves die and they don’t have inclusions to flaw them so are superior both ethically and materially. They should be the dominant type sold, not tainted to satisfy drug lords. Note to self: never go to Colombia.

It looked like we’d be cutting Haruno into the profits for her contribution today. And we’d have emeralds to sell soon.

More time passed.

My messages from the studios were percolating in slowly. More quickly from the publisher, who wanted character designs from ShinoAki approved for the print editions. I’d bring those to her at dinner. I worked steadily on the grand finale, trying to get the wording and suspense just right. The rejection of Yui, and the confession to Yukino. Yukino kept editing her own responses to more closely match the cold girl she used to be.

“Remember that you’d shut down my ambitions to be student council president, shown your ability to false confess to a woman you weren’t interested in at all, and stomped all over the feelings of the only female friend I have. I’m going to be furious with you, and outraged at your audacity. How dare you choose me!” she flared, showing her old self. This was somewhat ruined by the swell of her pregnancy. I was going to be a father. She was going to be a mother. We were going to be parents. For all that, she kept working like it was a minor issue. Many women complained and fell to piece when pregnant. Other women, like Yukino was just fine with it and continued on. When you consider that all people are descended from mothers who raised kids without an instruction manual and still got into that condition, usually willingly, it was a great mystery. I think I meant to say something witty and more coherent there, but I’m honestly baffled how our daily exercises could lead to unanticipated responsibilities. How is this possible? Okay, I’m panicking. I can do this. My sister is going to mock me. Oh Kami, my sister is going to get pregnant from that Taishi boy. She’s going to swell up like a balloon. Will she cry constantly, or laugh like an oujosama? This is Komachi. Of course she’s going to laugh. Panic attack over. Okay.

“Hachiman, something to say?” asked Haruno. She was visiting again. She was positively seething with jealousy. And Yukino pretended not to notice.

“It’s his daily panic attack. He’ll be better in a few minutes,” promised Yukino placing coffee in front of me. I sipped it, sweetness reordering my mind.

“It is by will alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the bean of Java that my thoughts acquire speed, the teeth acquire stains, the stains become a warning. It is by will alone I set my mind in motion,” I chanted steadily.

Haruno just stared, mouth open at this. Kyouya yawned. Aki ignored us. She was drawing something on a tablet, one of those new thin ones that use wifi and batteries. I waited until she nodded with satisfaction before I got up and cleared dishes. I kissed Yukino and helped wash them. Nana had rushed out ahead of us, going to music class. She was getting further with the original song for the grand finale. The rest of the table cleaned up and packed bento for lunch at school. It was time to go. Yukino gathered a basket of things to take and I joined her, heading up the hill towards the school.

It was a beautiful day, even if chilly being winter. Projects were going full bore trying to get completed for grades. There will be exams before the winter holidays, and we were heading back to Chiba to be with family. Saki had not finished school yet so hadn’t been down to Nara yet. That would happen soon enough. It would be best if she could interact with my dorm-mates before they graduated. With all that was going on, I know this moment, together, isn’t going to last long. We are here now together because of coincident circumstances, but we’re going to go forth, changed by our experiences here, and become the people we want to be.

These businesses are going to get formalized off premises, with our own equipment and probably a better shipping setup. It would take capital and some thought given to where to site the lab. Most of us were here at this school because of what we wanted to learn. The actual equipment for industrial gemstone production isn’t that physically large, though the electric furnace will consume power, though not as much as labor cost. Cheap real estate also made for cheaper labor costs, so this was not something to put in Tokyo, for example.

I sighed and started discussions with our lab guy and the jeweler who needed the gems. Discussions found them willing to consider the various locations, but that requires approval of their spouses, who also had studies or jobs to consider. It was very Japanese to get tied to a company and never consider leaving when it was going under or unprofitable, something the rest of the world did NOT do. It sometimes made Japan very strong in certain ways. But also less flexible in others. The no-questions-allowed attitude of subservience to authority can work for lots of things, but it can also cause a sort of inertia which can cripple a company when it needs to be flexible to survive changes. And this results in an economy which can’t adapt and dies when changes are forced on it.

And this is something I should probably never discuss with Yukino’s father. He was entrenched with the status quo, and I was building new business from the ground up. I was not part of the old world. I suppose this was another difference between our parents.