Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Kantei ❯ Blue Monday ( Chapter 1 )

There is a certain tranquility found on waking up in the morning. Usually.

As a genki girl, my metabolism is revved up to 11, and I am the drier approximation of a certain amphibian female at a school for superheroes. I am fortunate that dorky blonde guys are very rare here in Chiba City, Japan. I am also fortunate that my nerdy brother and his gloomlord tendencies are relatively easily countered much of the time.

The years after his heart was broken were tough on both of us, particularly since I was counting on him so much for my personal care. I was nine. I hadn’t even hit puberty yet. Seeing him fall apart was seeing the foundation of my world break. Mom and Dad have to work so much, so Oniisan is crucial to me.

I had to step up. I did my own laundry when I had to stand on a step-stool just to reach into the machines. I had to pick up after myself. I had to start learning how to cook, from the very most basic steps, like how long it takes to boil water and what temperature simmer means, with or without a lid, and various other kitchen issues, like using a knife without cutting myself.

I learned all that so Oniisan wouldn’t die of neglect as he fell into madness chanting about Dark Flame mastery and the cursed sword Gram. The cringe was heavy with him during those dark years. He did, with my help, shake it off. He chose to study hard and take the entrance exam for the toughest public high school in Chiba, the best of the best: Soubu.

Taishi’s sister goes there. She’s even in Niisan’s class, not that he notices or anything. He’s become reclusive, but he mutters in German sometimes when he isn’t paying attention, and that bothers me for two reasons. One, he never learned German so shouldn’t be able to speak it. And Two, I shouldn’t be able to speak German either, but I clearly do, because I understand what he’s saying. And don’t even get me started on those European and American war movies. Sometimes I don’t even notice that the subtitles are off and I’m still following it. Eerie, right?

But that’s not my real problem. Hachiman falling off his bike in front of a Toyota Century was an accident that should have been avoided, though that’s not my real problem either. Once I confirmed he’d gotten a broken leg, and they’d gotten the fragments out of the wound and everything set correctly, it was a matter of time in a cast and a week in a hospital bed to insure it wasn’t going to kill him in his sleep. He recovered, and has a scar he carefully covers with his pants leg or socks or both. I’ve seen it, of course. I am his sister. He got off the pain medication quickly, calling it a weakness he couldn’t afford, and toughed out the healing period before returning to school, having missed three weeks. He has used a cane for the next two months, and grumpiness netted him a club membership with a couple cute girls, one an oujosama with a flat chest, and the other a gyaru who was really into him and would probably give him kids, whether he asked for them or not. I’m not ready to be an auntie!

But that’s not my biggest problem either. No, my biggest problem is I keep having nightmares about being a spider. Like a giant spider from Skyrim. And everything in the cave where I live is trying to kill me.

“Kantei,” I chant, staring at the wall. WALL, is displayed over the wall, clear western text in brackets. So not useful. I try again in the bathroom. GLASS when I look at the mirror. CERAMIC when I look at the tile floor. I keep incanting KANTEI in a clear voice, and I keep getting back these useless and obvious answers. For a magic power, this may be the most poignantly useless thing ever. Maybe if I’d been a slime this would be useful or overpowered. But here and now? Ridiculous.

And there’s another small problem. I seem to have wiggly bits over ducts on my… posterior. On either side of my tailbone. Filling up the toilet with sticky spider silk is beyond embarrassing, especially since the automatic bidet function jammed the arm from working on our deluxe toilet. For some reason I knew to drop a match on it and then had to open the window to let out the smoke and wash away the ashes with a flush. Explaining the scorch marks on the seat? I have no idea. Wasn’t that superhero guy able to shoot spider web from his wrists? That would be so very convenient. Am I stuck wearing a short skirt with low-cut panties for life? That’s so embarrassing.

And don’t even mention my new fangs. Japanese girls are famous for the snaggletooth, but I’ve got actual fangs, with holes near the tips and got curious. So I bit an apple and squeezed a muscle in my mouth somewhere. It left purple marks in the fruit that hissed and smoked. I ended up not finishing that apple, and put it down the garbage disposal with plenty of water to flush it away. I really don’t think that Miles guy had to deal with this. Or Parker, either. Even Peni Parker never had to deal with this. And I don’t feel ANY kind of jealousy over how easy they had it. Then again, do I feel the need to fight crime? Nope. I am not feeling the least bit of responsibility.

“Kantei!” I chanted at the kitchen stove: STOVE. So useless. So that’s my problem today.

I got ready for school, packed my bento, and urged my brother on without me, riding his trusty steed now that he was finally off the cane. I personally fixed that up for him. Dad was busy. Mom wanted to get rid of it. I found videos and bought the needed parts I couldn’t repair. The scratches on his pedal needed a file and some metal polishing. It wasn’t that difficult. The bent wheel I ordered a replacement, then learned how to true a wheel with a spoke wrench, and how to fit a tire properly, which is different from doing it the wrong way. I had to use talcum powder on the inner tube. It wasn’t that hard. Taishi helped, a little. He didn’t quite understand why I was so determined to do this, but he kept me company. I needed to do this so Oniichan could go back to normal, because I need him normal.

He patted his bike happily, dropped his book bag into the basket, swung a leg across and smiled, the first genuinely happy smile I’ve seen him use since the morning before the accident.

“Finally. Everything is back to normal!” he declared. I watched oniichan ride away, then joined Taishi for our stroll to school.

“What was that all about?” Taishi asked me.

“This is his first ride since the accident,” I answered.

“Oh. Huh,” Taishi said, thinking quietly. One of the things I like about Taishi is he does actually think before speaking. And if he doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t say anything, and I’m being careful to not chastise him because I find this to be a feature, not a bug.

I go to middle school. I am in my final year there. I’ve been studying for the Soubu exam, same as Taishi. I think he is pretty serious about me, and I’m not averse. He’s handsome and if he grows up as a combination of his two parents he will improve with age, just so long as he doesn’t fall to lazy ways. His dad has six pack abs, is able to pick up his Mrs Kawasaki by arm strength alone, and they’ve got three kids, meaning their lives together are vigorous. Taishi has a younger sister, and an older one.

I am jealous of Saki. I think most women are jealous of Saki. She has the looks of a professional model, and that austere serene look she gets when she’s thinking is the perfect modern balance of lone-wolf yankee and nadesico, depending on what she wears. If bro wasn’t getting chased by that gyaru, he might notice Saki and find a new obsession. I feel strongly tempted to introduce them properly.

Middle School is pretty great. I have friends there. We’ve been friends since we started here. None of them have noticed my fangs, or how agile I’ve suddenly become. Studying also seems easier. Like my brain is absorbing new information faster. Peter Parker was a genius, wasn’t he? Fourth smartest man in Marvel? That I’m not living in a comic book, and superheroes are just a metaphor for the failure of religion to provide moral stories in modern culture… yeah, let’s set that aside for now.

I am starting to sympathize with Hachiman. No wonder he’s so morose when he sees our culture let him down, or people do something crass and greedy, or stupid beyond normal words. Stuff like that is starting to affect me, because I’m the smartest girl in the room. And I am seeing this happen in real time. I am seeing the patterns in the world, and that’s something mature people do, isn’t it? Did my childhood just end? Is it really that abrupt?

After school I went home, letting Taishi escort me, and then started preparing dinner, getting ingredients cut up so I could cook them to be ready around the time Hachiman would return from his successful journey on his Steed, and having spent an hour with his two lovers. Or love interests. Future ex-wives? I don’t know precisely, but my sense of smell tells me they like him. Women have twice the sense of smell of a man, mostly because we use our noses in prehistory to identify which fruits are ripe or not, and to identify our babies, and if our spouse is cheating with another woman, and who that woman is. Cooking better food is just a side effect for these more important evolutionary advantages.

I watched a documentary on anthropology while I waited for niisan to get home. He did arrive, in good spirits and washed up before joining me at the stove, where I was heating up oil, boiling water, and making sure the rice cooker was working. It was.

“How was your day, Komachi?” Hachiman asked.

Perfectly ordinary.

“Hey, Komachi… why is the toilet seat warped and black? Did it get burned?”

I swear I’m going to have to become a handyman-woman. Maybe I can get seats in a three-pack from the hardware store?