Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ To Be The Villain ❯ School Festival ( Chapter 7 )

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

SEVEN: Back To School

 

Returning to school revealed it was time to prepare for a school festival. If I’d thought female attention on me was bad before, now, with a body builder physique and my mile a day swimming routine? My locker would be full of love notes every day, only my LINES account was getting direct messages. A flood of contacts. There were also websites dedicated to me. And some unusual messages I needed to bring to my parents.

“What does this mean, son?” my Father asked, staring at the contact information from a modelling agency. Another message was for an acting talent agency.

“I can’t sing so I won’t be pursuing the idol company, though a polite decline will be necessary. This one here is interesting, however.”

“Who is that?”

“I have been contacted by Arai Satomi. She’s engaged to be married next year to Shinoyama Yoshimitsu. They are both voice actors in anime, very popular and busy voice actors. They are also Chiba residents, and this is her home town. I’ve heard rumors that she plans to start a talent agency in a few years, after she starts a family.”

“Hmm. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to offer a polite greeting. Knowing her may open some doors in that industry.”

“Isn’t a voice actor’s job mostly about how they speak and their ability to act with their voices?” Mother asked.

“This is generally true, but most voice actors were trained as full actors first, and most are rather attractive and talented people, though some are limited to that single area of entertainment rather than other skills,” I explained gently.

“So you mean some of them are idiots,” Mother clarified. I nodded.

“This is also so. It is true in many industries. Japan is often a highly specialized nation, and rewards specialization with success, even if it’s largely charity for maintaining cultural arts and crafts to old standards. Thus they have teacups for 80,000 yen. We have seen this, and must be suitably impressed when shown such things by clients and friends,” I explained. Our family knew how to look suitably impressed and respectful. It’s one of those things Japan does, for better or worse. It does protect old crafts, at least.

“To be fair, I know of several famous authors with best selling books who still worked day jobs as temps and office workers, mostly because publishing pays poorly. As with anything else, success is not solely measured in sales, but in paychecks. A well negotiated contract can save you from a miserable creative life,” I said carefully, thinking specifically of the author of this life I’m living.

“Well said. And so people like us are important,” Father agreed. “But what about all these messages? There was another one?”

“Yes, the one that offers the most potential for the least effort is a modelling agency. With my new physique I now fit the profile as a photogenic male model. I think I will be seeing what terms they offer and work around my school schedule.”

“Won’t you need to give up soccer? The bruises and practice schedule might interfere,” Mother pointed out. I considered that.

“They will probably use makeup to mask bruises, and I should probably try a few of these before I make a long term decision,” I admitted.

Thus began the biggest mistake I was glad I made. School was school. With Hachiman distracted by dating Yui, and Yukino focused on her jealousy and attempts to deal with the contradictions of attraction and appeal of actual friends, she wasn’t bother me. Haruno was, which was fine. The modelling agency came out and got some stock photos for a portfolio, and I got an agent to help deal with compensation and work-school balance. This peeved the agency sometimes, but we found middle ground which wouldn’t jeopardize my education or sports, missing some practices, but not many. I didn’t miss any games, thankfully, though I did have some shoots after games finished. Usually my modelling was solo, but they started getting me to model with female models in fashionable clothes, and then there were commercials. I felt like a Host, only less sleazy. I had to shut down much of my LINES communications with filters and firewall options in order to stop the flood of marriage offers and less salubrious physical offers. I wasn’t jailbait anymore, so women were after a juicy paternity suit and lifelong child support payments.

“Ahahaha, oh Hayato, only you!” laughed Haruno from our favorite table at Master Donut. There were cameras pointed at us, some of them recording video, and the donut shop employees were kind of at a loss. We were near big glass windows on the shop front, so people could see the donuts and buy them. It is what they did here. And they were good donuts, for Japan. Most rinkydink agricultural towns in the Midwest made donuts just as good, to give you some idea. Father took me, during our travels when I was young. I wonder if Haruno would like to see the Midwest of America? I know she saw Texas and San Diego, because we were together then, but did she get to Des Moines? Did she watch the sun rise through the lake effect fog in Cleveland? I wonder if she would like it, being somewhere other than Chiba, being someone not beholden to appearances and the needs of her family? Does she crave freedom as much as I think she does?

“So that’s what is going on in my life. There’s a billboard on the side of a building in the fashion district in Tokyo. Around 8 stories high, me in checked sweater vest and twill trousers and big brown shades, laughing.”

“Well, if you wanted a quiet life you sure picked the wrong part time job,” she chortled.

“I met Arai Satomi. She’s very nice, full of useful advice actually. Met her fiancé too. Nice man, super professional, worked as a regular in Naruto and Fairy Tail on the cast.”

“Who’s Arai Satomi?” Haruno asked.

“OneeSAMA!” I yowled in an approximation of her voice. Heads swiveled from the spying crowd nearby. “That’s her. Bunch of roles, actually, as long as my arm if you printed them out. That one from Index and Railgun is her most famous role to most people. She lives here. Wait, have you seen Seitokai Yakuindomo? She played the newspaper girl.” Light dawned in Haruno’s face at that one. Figures she’d like a show about perverted female students hitting on their male classmate in the student council room.

“That one. Okay. So that’s interesting. What else is going on?” Haruno asked me, nibbling at her donut and sipping some coffee.

“You know, if we dated it would really annoy Yukino,” I pointed out.

“You know, these donut meetings are dates,” Haruno pointed out, smiling with that grin she used sometimes. I froze, brain stopping. This happened rarely. I actually stopped having thoughts. I just froze stupid, not sure for how long. She bumped me awake again.

“That was funny. I didn’t know men could make an ahegao face. Glad I snapped a picture. I am going to meme this,” Haruno promised.

“Don’t. My talent agency owns my photographic rights for the next three years. Any without permission will be legal trouble, for me and you,” I reminded her. She frowned at this news and put down the phone again.

“What about all these people with phones near us?” she asked.

“They’ll find out about copyright strikes from my agency, and social media violation fines,” I commented with an evil grin.

“Wicked man,” Haruno smiled. It was a real smile.

“Do you have a drivers license?” I asked her.

“Yes, but I don’t own a car. Too much of a nuisance,” she admitted.

“I’ve been thinking I’d get a license and a car we can take trips in. There’s a lot of Japan I haven’t seen yet, and trains don’t go to all the interesting bits,” I said.

“We?” Haruno asked.

“You and me. In a car. Travelling together. Like a couple. Since we’re dating,” I added. “My social rank has risen as a model with an eight story billboard on the side of a building in Tokyo.”

“Its no career and mansion you can dangle in front of my mother for approval,” Haruno reminded.

“I’ll get there. I haven’t graduated from high school yet, even if I’m legal now.”

“You can’t buy a drink,” Haruno scoffed.

“You only turned 20 three months ago,” I responded. Like I’d forget all the birthdays we celebrated over the last decade and a half.

“Peh. The point is that you’re still younger than me,” Haruno waved it off.

“And I always will be. But the difference shrinks every day,” I reminded her. This is mathematically true, if you count the relative difference over total time.

“That is so, but I still prefer coffee to sake. I cannot afford to lose control of myself so long as I’m living in a place where I can be recognized and it gets back to Mother,” Haruno complained quietly.

“So let me take you places. Visit some shrines, walk in the hills, stand by a volcano,” I suggested. Something like what I did with Hana, said an old memory from another life. Another man I wasn’t anymore. Surfing down a sand dune, cackling with laughter as I ran to catch up, and eventually passed her with that dumb look on her face.

“Hey, Earth to Hayato?” Haruno got my attention. “You went somewhere just now.”

“Feels like a memory. Another life. The benefit of travel is you can carry the memories of the places with you. Tottori is for couples.”

“You mean that Ace Attorney city on the North Coast?” Haruno asked.

“Yep. Detective Conan. Manga artists come from all over the place, not just Tokyo. Did you know over 70% of them are women? Even the ones who use male pen names are mostly women,” I said, lost in thought again.

“I think this coffee isn’t cutting it for you, Hayato. Finish your donut and lets go somewhere a bit more private,” she offered. I did as ordered and we left the shop, and the various cellphones recording us like a Power Couple. Like my parents. Hell, like her parents. Maybe there’s a future for us after all? I looked at her carefully, and took in the lowering sun, and learned forward to kiss Haruno before she could escape me. She let me, lingering on my lips.

“I’m not immune to your new physique either, Hayato. You better take responsibility if our relationship goes any farther.”

I kissed her again and called a taxi, then escorted her to her home before calling it a night and returning to my own, to try and cool off my hormones. Haruno is the one I want. I am rarely confused about that, even with my brief detour with helping Saki. Haruno has held my attention, as maddening as she can be.

How can I be a villain? I can marry the wicked female antagonist that teases and torments the Hero, Hachiman. Only I’d solved most of his problems, until they chose a student committee to deal with the coming school festival. The initial announcement gained little interest, and Miura kept her mouth shut while thinking about Saika. Tobe had apparently found out about Tinder and was getting dates that way, rather than limit himself to the girl who sat near him. Saki seemed to be busy with clothing design sketches, which is good for her. Hachiman and Yui found time to spend together, stabilizing their relationship now they were past the frantic stage and into something similar to a married couple. The nerdy guys with the video game handheld consoles were left alone since I’d chastised Tobe about stealing that one time, even if he didn’t mean to, and Shizuka sensei continued to smoke, like certain volcanos and Discworld goddesses known for things stuck in drawers, Annoia was her name. Yes, like Annoia. She steamed because the thunder god rained on her lava.

“Care to share what’s got you smiling like that Hayama?” asked sensei abruptly.

“Something from the Wintersmith. It’s a Discworld novel. I can give you information about it after class if you want, sensei,” I offered. She demurred and went on with her lecture about modern literature and how it affected the Japanese language and the referential idioms we use.

“Now it is time to volunteer as the class representatives for the school festival committee. We need a girl and a boy. Who’s doing it? C’mon!” Hiratsuka sensei cajoled us. Miura was silent, predictably lost in contemplation of Saika. Yui was quiet as well.

“What about Hayama?” the idiot Sagami snidely suggested.

“I’m too busy. I have practice after school, and my job on other days,” I pointed out. The few girls not in relationships sighed about this.

“So what about Hikigaya then?” Sagami suggested.

“So long as either Saki or Yuigahama assists him. They have good enough grades to take the time,” I suggested. Saki regarded me over her shoulder, then turned to examine Hikigaya. She shrugged.

“Why not me?” Sagami asked, putting herself forward.

“The committee is hard work. They’re good students… How are your grades?” I pointedly accused. Sagami shrank.

“So really, this will be Hikigaya and either Yuigahama or Kawasaki. Vote on it,” Hiratsuka-sensei ordered. Hands went up for one then the other.

“Ebina, you can’t vote for anyone not on the list. Pick Saki or Yui. Those are your choices. Once they are chosen you can contribute to the project for our classroom. We’ll talk about that next,” Hiratsuka commanded. The students voted and it looks like Kawasaki will be joining Hachiman. Yui looks a bit put-out, but Kawasaki seems ambivalent.

“So now that the committee representatives are decided, what is our class going to do? Ideas?” she demanded.

“Maid and Butler café!” shouted Ebina. “But with crossdressing.” Then she exploded blood all over the place.

“No crossdressing. We’re not trying to create scandal here. Any other ideas?” she asked the class.

“Can we bake cookies and serve tea in this maid café?” Yui asked semi-anxiously, the way she does when she’s asking for something she really wants. Hachiman made eye contact with her. They made faces at each other without saying anything. Those two have already reached the stage of couple-telepathy? I looked to Miura, raised my eyebrows and gestured to the couple with a tiny shrug. She nodded agreement, having noticed this as well, and then I realized I was doing this telepathy thing with Miura too. How long have we been like that? More than a year? Miura caught my reflective panic and nodded assent. More than a year. Once you catch the telepathy your friendship will last a lifetime. This will make things awkward if I’m dating Haruno. And I am dating Haruno. We haven’t taken our clothes off together yet, but that’s likely in the near future. And once that happens the tadpoles will be deciding if we’re parents or not. Sigh. I am not ready for this.

The class has approved the cookies and tea service idea, and Shizuka has denied the cross dressing maid and butlers. So we’ll still be dressing as maids and butlers. I guess I can live with playing Ouran Host Club cosplay. Beats doing a rendition of the Little Prince directed by Ebina and her demented blood explosions. Now I just need to inform my talent agency that I’ll be appearing in public in costume and they’ll want to get it on it. Possibly working a deal to get paid to have the class model some high-end cosplay. I’ll have my agent negotiate it so they also pay the class with the linen and tea service rental so this isn’t out of the school’s pocket. We can be upmarket without spending on anything more than cookies and tea leaves. I turned to regard Shizuka with a grin. She regarded my smile weakly.

After class, I made a brief phone call to my agent, explaining the situation. She nodded along, understanding the potential. “Limited advertising… unless we hang a banner of you in your outfit out the window 10 meters high on the day of the festival. And the day before. If we do that, we can justify slightly upmarket rentals and support. Slightly. The agency likes to get saturation and event attendance in the hundred thousands and millions, not a thousand students and parents, at MOST. And more likely only a few hundred before you run out of cookies and tea leaves,” she explained, dashing my vision of classy Ouran presentations.

“That said, the costume rentals should be easy enough from Akiba once your class provides a list of sizes. The tailed tux butler outfit is common, and there’s dozens of maid outfit variations, from Anna Miller’s ripoffs to Spicy Victorian Maid.”

“High school students, Makiba-san. We have to keep the ratings appropriate for parents. No scandals permitted,” I cautioned her. She sighed.

“Right. Clean and covered, no high-skirt low-bodice cosplay allowed,” she confirmed.

The absence of twit-girl meant that Hikigaya and Kawasaki were able to get a lot of work done for the festival council. My occupation of Haruno’s attention meant she didn’t stir shit up to spite Yukino and make a scene for Hikigaya to become more hated by more of the school, culminating in the ditzy events of the festival concert. I did learn that Yuigahama sings Be My Hero with Hikigaya on her home karaoke system, after they cook food together. Like a real couple.

Kate the nun has appeared in my dreams several times, almost every night. I feel like she’s a metaphor that is my mind’s way of telling me I forgot something. I just don’t know what I’ve forgotten. It is so weird.

We all baked three dozen cookies the day before the festival, making use of the school Home Economics kitchen to complete our work. Many of the cookies were actually prepped the day before, being variations of sugar cookies that needs their dough to rest overnight. This was accomplished and Yukino showed off with a nine-part black and white checkerboard cookie. The costumes were a frantic hour of assembling on the warm morning and coping with the heat while everyone ran the café for students from both our own school and a number of neighboring ones curious about how things are done at Soubu. Parents and children also visited in throngs, and the tall banner of me hanging from the classroom windows down to the ground got lots of attention, and more visitors. We were in danger of running out of cookies just after the lunch rush, and had to post an apology sign and offered some from local bakeries. Fancier, but lacking the authenticity of having been baked by the class itself. The journalists got the real cookies and full experience, including some from Tokyo, and a few creeps with upskirt cameras. There wasn’t much to see. We had the proper uniforms, not the sexy ones on the girls.

“No photographs sir, please exit the campus and be directed by the police officers awaiting your presence. Thank you detective, I’ll leave this to you,” I said, steering the creep directly into the hands of detective Iroha, visiting on behalf of his daughter. I’ve met him before, obviously. She’s our team manager, after all.

Other than that things went smoothly and I didn’t have to organize much. This is a relief. Haruno appeared on my elbow as we shut our doors, out of cookies and exhausted from all the tea. I changed back into my school uniform in front of her because our relationship has gotten this far, at least.

“You know, women are starting to give me a hard time in public over dating you,” Haruno chuckled.

“And how do you take it?” I asked her, buttoning up my shirt. I adjusted my tie and pulled on the light summer-weight jacket. It was much more comfortable than the butler outfit had been. I’m glad they’ll be washing that. At least I hope they will. I wouldn’t put it past them to auction off my sweaty clothes, considering my rising popularity has spread into Tokyo.

“I thank them for their attention and give them a big smile,” she answered. “This tends to put them off.”

“Well, you are lovely and charming, which few women can match. Those who don’t measure up know it,” I told her, taking her arm and sliding open the door so we could join the thronging crowds and see the festival before it was all over. Haruno pulled me to a classroom with a haunted house theme, another offering foods based on peas, which is the Chiba prefecture main crop we were known for, and finally a stand outside making fruit crepes. We shared one and enjoyed the sight of all these families, including little kids, looking satiated from junk food and sugar crash and too much sun.

“This is nice. I’m not always big on crowds, but this? This is nice,” I said, gesturing. I heard more shutters click. We were being photographed again. I recognized the press pass from one of the Tokyo fashion magazines. Candid photos reporting on the male model sensation: Hayama Hayato, and his steady girlfriend, Yukinoshita Haruno the eldest daughter of the prefectural power and Diet representative.

“Looks like we’ll be in the news again,” Haruno commented. She’d seen it too.

“Eh. Then they can watch. I’m too tired to care.”