Subject: [FF][MI] Channel Surfing chapter 2
From: Goosed
Date: 2/7/1997, 3:25 PM
To: fanfic@fanfic.com

Here's the new chapter.  C&C please.  ^_^

Maison Ikkoku:  Channel Surfing, chapter 2
	By Damon Casale

	Down and down they fell, through tangled nets of wires glowing red
with barely contained electricity, through the rolling crash of white
static, and through the ceiling of a gigantic studio into a pair of plush
seats.
	The lights went on.  Kyoko and Yushaku looked around in near
shock.  "What's all this?" was all Yushaku could manage.
	The game show host, dressed in an ugly mauve suit and standing
behind a wooden podium, smiled a sickening car salesman smile. "This
is..."  "YOU!  CAN'T!  WIN!" the audience shouted.
	The studio was filled with all manner of lowlife and street
urchins, whole tiers of the crippled and maimed.  Surrounding them were a
series of gaudy, flashing lights, highlighting the vapid game show host.
	"The rules are simple," he growled pleasantly.  "Answer all of the
questions correctly, and you win the vacation dream package to the 1997 TV
addicts convention!  Miss three questions, and you lose several vital
parts of your anatomies."  From the floor beneath then, a series of
splashes echoed followed by a dull, rumbing roar.
	Yushaku and Kyoko recoiled in terror.  "W-what if we don't want to
play?" Kyoko squeaked.  "I'm afraid that's not an option," said the game
show host as the chairs sprouted arm and leg clamps which promptly locked
into place.  She screamed, and the audience roared with laughter.
	"First question," the game show host continued.  "How many hours a
week do you spend in front of the set, Yushaku?  Is it A, 10 hours a week?
B, 20 hours a week?  Or C, 40 hours a week?"
	"Fine, it's C, you jerk!  Is that what you want to hear!!?"
Yushaku shouted.  The game show host raised his eyebrows.  "An honest
man," he mused aloud.  "We don't get many of those.  Yes, that is correct!
Next question.  Kyoko, how many hours do you spend away from home with
your friends?  Is it A, 5 hours a week?  B, 15 hours a week?  Or C, 35
hours a week?"
	"Eeto--"  Kyoko stuttered.  Yushaku quickly interrupted.  "She
spends as much time as she wants, and does whatever makes her happy!"
	Bzzt, rang a buzzer.  "I'm sorry, but the give your own answer
question is last, this was a multiple choice question."  The floor cracked
open slightly, a straight crevice from which a noxious fog arose.  The
chairs tilted forwards ominously.
	"Third question!  Yushaku, when was the last time you and Kyoko
spent a quiet evening together without turning on the TV?  Is it A, two
weeks ago?  B, two months ago?  Or C, two years ago?"
	Yushaku glared at him.  "We were going to do that tonight when you
interrupted us!  All I wanted--"
	"I'm sorry, that's incorrect," the game show host said quickly,
before Godai could say anything further.  The floor opened a little wider.
	"And now for the final question!  How long has it been since you
have given your lovely wife a kiss?  You may answer in your own words."
At that, Yushaku smiled.  "Tonight, you bastard."
	The game show host face faulted.
	The floor closed itself up again, and the clamps retracted,
dropping the two of them. "Damn, I should have finished the background
research," the annoyed game show host muttered under his breath, and
walked over.
	"Congratulations," he said, smiling blandly.  And now for your
consolation prize, behind this curtain.  He pulled a purple curtain aside
to reveal a man-sized hole of channel static, and promptly shoved them
both through into--

	They landed in a tangle of arms and legs on the kitchen floor.  A
light melody was playing from an unseen speaker.  Seconds later, an
announcer began speaking.  "And now, HTV's afternoon culinary trip,
Cooking with Akane.  Today, the soup is on with a delightful mix of modern
herbs and spices together with an ancient oriental recipe."
	Yushaku and Kyoko slowly disentangled themselves.  "Oh, my head,"
Godai moaned.
	Kyoko looked around at the kitchen.  Several pots were bubbling
away on the stove, while a chopping board held dozens of different
vegetables and quite a few unidentifiable pieces of what she assumed were
meat.  While there were three flowerpots hanging from the ceiling and a
couple of planters near one wall, the whole room held a musty odor.
	"What's going on?  Where are we?"  Yushaku walked over to the
stove and tasted one of the less ominous looking mixtures.  "Well, this
isn't too bad."  Little did he know how rarely Akane's cooking was even
edible, let alone decent.  Still, even this minor miracle hadn't come
without a price.
	The soup burped.
	Kyoko momentarily left off her intent study of the room. 
 "Yushaku!" She warned.
	Yushaku did a doubletake, then shrugged at Kyoko.  "It was the
soup, honest!"  Kyoko rolled her eyes.  "Of course it was the soup, but
you could at least cover your mouth!"
	"But Kyoko, I didn't--uh oh..."  Yushaku watched in horrified
fascination as the kettle of soup sprouted a tentacle, picking up a spoon
to stir itself with.  "I don't think I'm hungry any more."
	Kyoko tried to ignore the pot long enough to think.  "Where are
we?  I remember the satellite dish, and--"  "We're in the TV," Yushaku
grumbled.  "Life doesn't *ever* get this weird."  Kyoko looked around.
"How do we get out?"
        They circled the room, noting the conspicuous absence of a door.
The walls were done in fine oak paneling, and a small tapestry adorned
with roses hung from one of the walls.  The various plants in the room
weren't large enough to conceal anything.  There was a single, full length
window which overlooked a large swimming pool.
	A muted clanking brought their attention back to the stove.  The
pots had all sprouted tentacles and were walking around, climbing down
from the counter and onto the floor.  One was stuffing itself with the
food left on the cutting board.  "Uh oh, we need to do something!" said
Godai.
	It wouldn't be long before the pots found them.  Whether or not
the pots found them edible was a question they did *not* want answered.
However, the only possible exit left them about three stories from the
ground, not a very appealing way to go.  If it was a question of the
swimming pool or the pots, though, Godai wasn't at all pressed to make his
choice.
	"Quick, help me with this plant!"  Yushaku and Kyoko wrestled one
of the larger potted plants in front of the window.  "Ready?  PUSH!!"
	The glass shattered as the tall potted plant toppled forward, and
Kyoko stumbled backwards out of the way of the flying shards.  As she did
so, one of the smaller cooking pots wrapped a tentacle around her leg.
She screamed, tumbling forward again into Yushaku.  "Get it
ooooooooff!!..." echoed through the air, as they both fell from the ledge.

	A strolling couple turned in surprise at the ghastly scream coming
from the house on their right.  When nothing further was forthcoming, the
man shrugged.  "It's just their TV.  People have no sense of respect these
days..."  They continued down the street, leaving the somewhat elegant but
recently vacant home behind.  A small sign on the door glittered in the
sunlight.  "Yagami".

	Haruka was blithely oblivious to the manifold problems that had
developed since last night.  She found it perhaps a little strange that
her parents had not returned by morning, but maybe things were changing
for the better after all.
	At the moment, she had enough problems of her own to deal with.
The particular problem in question was staring her in the face in the form
of Shun Mitaka, now suddenly taking a keen interest in education for no
apparent reason.
	She knew better, of course.  She just wasn't sure if Tsui was
behind it, or if his father was taking an all too overbearing approach to
his son's "difficulties".
	"Haruka, pay attention!" Shun snapped.  "Set a better example for
the class, please."  She moaned softly.  "Yes, sensei."
	"Now, as I was saying," he continued, "English literature is
highly lauded but, if you will note, has not been significantly added to
for centuries.  Our own cultural heritage is of course far richer..."
	Haruka's eyes began to glaze over at the boring history lesson.
"If this is what I can expect for the next term," she thought unhappily,
"then I'll have to work at just staying awake in class."

	Endless ages later, the bell rang, and most of the class burst
into the hall.  Haruka and Noriko, another high school girl who seemed to
wear a perpetual smile, were left to tidy up the classroom.  Mitaka shot
her a hard look.  "I'd like to talk to you after you've finished,
Haruka-san."
	She gulped, and nodded.  "Now what?" she thought to herself.
Mitaka took a few, sharply measured steps and left the room.
	Noriko kept silent while they scrubbed the chalkboard, rearranged
the chairs, and swept the floor.  As soon as they were finished, she made
a hasty exit, waving curtly.  "She must be scared of him," Haruka thought.
Noriko could never stand silence, as she would continually fill it with
idle chatter whenever she could.  A moment later, she saw Noriko burst
into the courtyard headlong into a gaggle of friends.  The dam of silence
broke, and her babbled hello's seeped fitfully through the glass.
	Haruka made her way to a cramped office near the rear of the
school building, where Mitaka was waiting for her.  This time, he was
smiling pleasantly.  "Sit down."  He pointed to a comfortable, nay even
plush chair in front of his desk.
	She sat down, feeling giddily self-conscious.  "I'll be blunt," he
began.  "Since you are the class representative, I'd rather you lead the
class in paying attention, in answering questions, and in your overall
performance."  Before she could say something, he held up a hand.  "I'm
not saying there is a problem.  I'm only offering to tutor you privately,
maybe once a week, if you feel you would benefit by it."
	He had snared her as easily and as effectively as if he had
ordered her to come.  By making the offer of tutoring, he could almost
immediately find every little fault, real or imagined, and ruin her
record if she didn't agree, Haruka realized.  She nodded and smiled
weakly.  "Thank you."
	He gave a teeth-glinting smile.  "Perfect.  I have a book of haiku
I'd like you to study and compare with the English poetry I'll be
introducing in class tomorrow.  A report on that should encourage some
interest by the other students, wouldn't you agree?"

	Her shoulders slumped as she walked out of the tight office.
Mitaka sighed.  He hated pushing her towards his son, but there was no
other way.  There never had been.
	He made a silent promise to himself then.  This was as far as he
would go.  It wasn't just the misunderstanding over Asuna that had done it
all those years ago.  He'd never learned how to *stop* pushing, and it had
driven Kyoko away.  He would never know if it might have turned out
differently now, and it was pointless to look back and wonder.  And it was
true that he and Asuna had been happy together.
	But his son wouldn't lose to fate or accident.  If he had to
influence the situation, so be it.  There was no other way.
	There never had been.

        Haruka walked home alone.  The air was brisk, even with the sun
peeking out from behind the clouds, and she pulled her coat around her
tightly.  A few stray leaves skittered across the sidewalk, swept up by
a momentary gust of wind.  "Life is so complicated," she mused sadly.
"Maybe if everyone just left me alone for a while..."

        Mrs. Ichinose was struggling with the hanging laundry in the
yard.  "Mom isn't back yet?" Haruka asked.  Mrs. Ichinose shook her head
silently.  Haruka mindlessly wandered over and helped pull down the
clothes and sheets from the line.  "Where could they have gone, I
wonder..."
        She tossed her backpack at one corner of the room, and looked at
the book Mitaka had given her.  "The Tao of Haiku, edited by I. P.
Freely".
        The book landed upside down in front of the TV.
        She looked at the TV for a moment, then at the blinking remote
sitting in front of it.  "Why not," she thought.
        Her eyes began to glaze after the fourth Hex Files episode.
Now, if only the remote would stop beeping.
        Beeping?
        She looked out the window.  Tsui was gazing curiously at the
satellite dish, which was swiveling to point at him.  He panicked when
a stiff breeze picked up and began pushing everything towards the dish,
and he ran for the door.  "Haruka!" he yelled.  "What's--"
        A bolt of *something* exploded from the dish and struck Tsui
full in the back, as he was climbing the steps.  It enveloped him in a
whitish haze, and then....he disappeared??!?

        The scream echoed across all of Tokyo.

Damon Casale, scyth@miis.edu / scyth@andrew.cmu.edu
Spam, spam!  WONDERFUL spam!  ^_^