Subject: [FFML] [Orig] Project Kawaii: Scramble War! episode 1
From: "Ammadeau" <roy.fokker@unspacy.org>
Date: 9/1/2000, 11:35 PM
To: ffml@fanfic.com

I know what you're thinking, "Not another story, he'll never finish 

anything!"  :)



While I've been more than a little bit guilty of that in the past, this 

is just a fic I've been working on when stuck with Kumiko, the 

next chapter of which is half done and should be sent to the FFML 

in about a week.



This also means I don't know when the next chapter of this will be 

finished.  It all depends on how much trouble I have with Kumiko, 

so it shouldn't be for a while.  Of course, responses may convince 

me to give this equal time. :)



I'd also like to thank Lerche and Zachary Seaholm for commenting 

on the teaser of this that I posted on my web page.



***



Project Kawaii: Scramble War!

(an original magical girl fic)

By Ammadeau

Roy.Fokker@UNSpacy.org

http://www.thekeep.org/~amm/



Episode 1: Introducing Emi-chan, the queen of cute!



***



     In an unremarkable city in Japan, a war was brewing, a war 

that would decide the fate of the entire planet, a war fought mostly 

by incredibly cute little girls...

     This is their story.



     The morning stalked silently into the room of Emi 

Ishiyama, like a vampire following the scent of fresh prey.  

Sunlight seeped in from under the curtains in the form of a honey 

mist, slowly filling up the available space with its light.

     It revealed a room which looked as if several artists had 

been forced at gun-point to make career changes to interior 

designers.  There was a frilly elegance about it, with the careful 

guidance of a master whose heart really wasn't in his work.  It was 

a girl's bedroom that Louis XIV would have approved of, though 

he would have probably found the two mirrors, one on top of the 

dresser and a full length one by the closet, to be inadequate.

     He might have also found the large four-post bed too small, 

but it was more than adequate for the little girl who occupied it, at 

least in the sense that she slept there.  She certainly didn't take up 

much room.  At least eight more of her could have comfortably 

occupied the bed, with room to spare for their respective stuffed 

animals.

     The girl was quite petite, as implied previously, with 

golden curls now all in disarray, her bright blue eyes shut tight in 

sleep as she clutched a stuffed bunny close to her and snored ever 

so softly.  She was twelve years old, though she was sometimes 

judged to be anywhere from eight to fourteen.  The reason for this 

will become all too clear after she finally awakens.

     With the coming of the dawn also came five shadows. They 

darted about the room so quickly that their forms couldn't be fully 

made out.  Everywhere they went, the relative disorder of the room 

was straightened, fluffed, or otherwise brought back into a state of 

neatness.  Even the girl herself was attended to; her curls were 

combed and the wrinkles straightened out of her pajamas.  As 

silently and mysteriously as they had come, the shadows departed, 

leaving the room clean and tidy.

     Roughly five minutes after this, a sound started to build in 

the room.  Indistinct at first, it became clearer as it grew in volume. 

Only a moment before a listener could identify it, it suddenly burst 

forth as a room-shaking trumpet fanfare.

     This was how Emi awoke each morning.



     With a big grin, Emi threw off the covers and sat up in bed.  

She pulled up the window shade next to her and giggled to see the 

clouds drift lazily by in a sky that was as bright and blue as her 

eyes.  "Wai!  It's morning!"

     Emi gracefully hopped out of bed, setting down her stuffed 

bunny to watch over her room as she made herself ready for the 

day.  This was Usagi-kun the 8th.  Seemingly identical in all 

respects to 1-7, they were secretly replaced after their predecessor 

became too worn.  Though this was all done without her 

knowledge, Emi could tell the difference somehow, but like with 

many of her parents' games, she feigned ignorance.

     With a spring in her step, little Emi marched over to her 

already open closet and studied the cute dresses that neatly hung 

there, all with matching shoes and accessories.  It was a large 

closet so it managed to hold the few dozen dresses without having 

them squished up against each other, which would have caused 

little Emi to wrinkle her nose in distaste.

     "What do you want to wear today, Emi-chan?" asked a 

sixteen year old girl wearing a maid's outfit that had suddenly 

appeared at her side.  This was Atsuko, a girl who Emi thought of 

as an older sister, someone who liked Emi deep inside but was 

often critical of her, bordering on dislike, though she always did 

her best to remain polite and smile.  It was also the reason Emi 

made her wear a maid's costume, because it was cute of her and she 

wanted her big sister to look good.

     "The light blue dress with the white frills looks fun!  I'll 

wear that!" Emi enthused, pointed out the outfit in question.

     The girl nodded once and lead Emi into an adjoining room.  

This was Emi's furo; no one was allowed to use it but her, even 

though the furo itself was large enough for several people.  Emi 

giggled in delight as the other girl stripped her down and gave her 

a good washing, doing her best to squirm and make things more 

fun for the pseudo-maid.  That finished, with a cute leap, Emi 

dived into her furo with a splash.

     This was Emi's early morning think time, where she went 

over her thoughts from last night in bed and planned out her 

activities for the day ahead.  The maid had already vanished, so 

Emi felt free to think aloud, not worrying about people listening in, 

because she knew that there were always people listening in on her 

anyway, which is probably why it never bothered her.  She didn't 

like people watching her at the time; though she reflected that they 

probably did that too.

     "Think, think, think," she said to herself as she splashed 

around in the warm water.  "Got to think of a way to get more 

cute!"

     Emi's parents were rather important people and thus had 

been in the press ever since their precious daughter had been born.  

When Emi was only a few months old, her mother brought her 

along to a press conference.  This was due to the fact that her 

parents would only let Emi be out of their sight for less than a few 

moments until she was about eight years old.

     This press conference was both Emi's first real memory and 

a pivotal point in her life.  For instead of listening to what her 

parents had to say, most of the press spent their time gushing over 

how cute the newborn was, with her every act bringing new 

exclamations of joy to the audience.  He parents didn't mind at all 

as they would much rather coo and smile at their child than explain 

their business plans.

     Just as the press conference was starting to wind down, 

Emi's tiny lips moved slowly and precisely to form a single word 

which she had heard over and over that day, "Kawaii."  It was her 

first word and would dictate the course of her life.

     Emi became obsessed with being cute.  Every word and 

deed became an experiment in adorableness.  She realized quickly 

that her own opinion was simply not enough, nor was her parents' 

biased views sufficient.  So she started cranking up the cute factor 

for everyone she met, basing her success and failure on their 

reactions, and then altering her technique accordingly.

     Do not misunderstand.  Emi doesn't act cute, she simply 

works to enhance the cuteness she already possesses.  Nor does she 

do this to gain attention.  Due to the overwhelming amount of 

attention her parents, and countless others, still paid her, she didn't 

really value this highly.  She was cute because of the warm feeling 

it gave her inside, an overwhelming joy when she looked in the 

mirror and could say with absolute certainty, "Kawaii!"

     Things had not been going so well for Emi lately, however.  

It had been several weeks since she had been able to make herself 

even the slightest more cute, and was in fact worried that her 

kawaii factor was starting to slip a bit.  She had read about a 

similar problem with professional athletes where they reach a 

plateau and couldn't seem to get any better.  Emi was determined to 

overcome this somehow, if only should could think of a way to do 

it.

     Deciding that she had been soaking long enough, looking 

like a prune would not be cute, Emi sprang out of the tub with 

another splash, dried herself off, and went back into her bedroom.

     The moment she stepped over the threshold, the girl in the 

maid outfit reappeared, finished drying her off, and dressed Emi in 

the outfit she had selected earlier, though her feet were left bare.

     "Thank you, oneechan!" Emi enthused to the girl, giving 

her a small hug and a kiss on the cheek before grabbing her stuffed 

bunny and skipping to the room across the hall, knowing that the 

girl was now glaring at her behind her back.  Emi didn't mind, she 

thought sibling rivalry was fun even if Atsuko wasn't her real big 

sister.

     The next room looked much like a normal hair salon, 

except that it was almost supernaturally clean and there was only 

one chair.  By this chair stood a woman about thirty five wearing a 

simple house dress with her dark green hair done up in a bun. 

"Good morning, Emi-chan!"

     "Good morning, Tamiko-san!" Emi echoed as she hopped 

in the chair, making herself ready for her hair cut and manicure of 

the day.

     Tamiko was Emi's most favorite person in the world after 

her parents, mainly because the woman was always genuinely 

happy to see her and fussed over Emi almost as much as her 

parents did.  She was probably also the nicest person the little girl 

had ever met, and she had met a lot of nice people.  Emi considered 

Tamiko to be her aunt, even though they weren't related.  This may 

be because she was Atsuko's mother.

     The woman deftly worked the scissors, her hands a blur as 

she fixed and shaped Emi's golden curls with mathematical 

precision, all the time going on and on about how what a cute and 

wonderful little girl Emi was.  Emi would giggle occasionally, 

being very ticklish, but otherwise did her best to sit still and smile 

at hers and Tamiko's reflection in the mirror.

     In the blink of an eye, her fingernails and toenails were 

painted a shade of blue to match her dress.  They shimmered wetly 

one moment, dry the next, each one trimmed to exactly the length 

she wanted.  Tamiko was also a perfectionist, which was 

something that Emi could respect as she was working hard to 

perfect the art of being cute.

     "You have such cute little toes, Emi-chan," Tamiko told her 

with a smile as she slowly slipped on the girl's socks.

     Emi bent down to kiss the older woman on the forehead.  "I 

love you, Tamiko-san!"

     Tamiko looked ready to cry, as she did every morning 

when Emi said this.  "I love you too, Emi-chan.  Now hurry along 

downstairs, your parents are waiting."

     Emi nodded and accepted Tamiko's warm hug, holding 

onto her for a minute or so before letting go and continuing on her 

morning's journey, still holding onto Usagi-kun for company.



     At the end of the hall was a giant staircase, winding down 

to the first floor below with an oaken banister that was nearly as 

tall as Emi.  The little girl carefully made her way down step by 

step.  Before her parents had carried her down, first in her mother's 

arms, then on her father's back, but she had recently decided that 

she had outgrown such modes of transportation.  She had been 

half-worried that her legs would stop working due to lack of use 

and her parents had reluctantly agreed.

     The challenge of the stairs accomplished for the first time 

that day, Emi padded down a hallway that was larger than most 

rooms, passing through open double doors and into the dining 

room.

     Her family's dining room was roughly the size of a small 

house, illuminated by the early morning sunlight that entered 

through the high bank of windows that took up most of the eastern 

wall.  Emi had always found it a strange place for their small 

family to eat, but her mother had pointed out that it was what the 

dining room was for, after all.

     "Emi-chan!!" her parents exclaimed simultaneously as they 

jumped out of their seats and rushed over to their daughter, 

overwhelming her with enthusiastic hugs and kisses.  Emi knew 

that it took anywhere from two to five minutes for her parents to 

calm down long enough so they could have breakfast, depending 

on their current plans for her.  Emi knew this because she timed 

them from the giant cuckoo clock that hung from the northern wall, 

above the kitchen door.

     Today it was four minutes before her parents were willing 

to relinquish their hold on her.  Then they all took their places at 

the small table, which seemed even tinier in the mostly empty 

room.  Emi wondered a bit what their plans could be today, and 

when she would actually find out about them.  It was probably yet 

another promotion for their company, which was always fun.  She 

set Usagi-Kun down in her lap, so he could see over the table with 

his ears, and waited for the next event in her morning to begin.

     A non-descript man suddenly appeared at their table, 

carrying glossy menus marked with elegant gold script which he 

handed out to the three Ishiyamas with small nods.  He wore a dark 

suit like a waiter, but that failed to explain the dark glasses he 

wore, or his build, which would make a professional football 

player envious.  Emi knew this was one of her father's many 

security guards who watched them day and night, but it was hard to 

tell how many of them there were exactly because they all looked 

the same.

     Idle chit-chat drifted around the table as the family studied 

their menus, deciding what they would have for breakfast that day.  

Emi eventually decided on a croissant, no butter, scrambled eggs, 

no yolk, fresh orange juice, no pulp, and nothing for Usagi-kun as 

usual.  The man nodded to each of them as he listened to their 

orders, accepted back the menus, and vanished without speaking a 

single word.

     Five minutes later, the food arrived, being carried by three 

maids that were nearly as non-descript as the waiter had been.  

They also sported dark sunglasses, though their builds were more 

like Olympic gymnasts.  These were Emi's mother's security 

guards, which for some reason Emi thought of as the wives to her 

father's guards.  The one time she had asked one about this, 

however, had earned only a small blush as a response.

     "Thank you!" Emi told the maid as she accepted the food.  

The maid smiled in reply, saying nothing.  The little girl then dug 

into her breakfast, her parents doing the same.  With the 

consumption of edibles now their focus, time passed in relative 

silence until breakfast had been finished.

     Atsuko appeared with the three maids, the latter there to 

claim the used dishes and utensils.  The former cleaned up Emi and 

straightened out the wrinkles in her dress from the affection of 

Emi's parents.  Their tasks accomplished, they left.

     "I love you mommy and daddy!" Emi said as she hugged 

and kissed her parents one more time.  "Have fun at work!"

     "We love you too, Emi-chan! Have fun at school!" her 

parents returned as they eagerly accepted her affection and 

reluctantly let her go as they did every morning.

     Emi skipped her way down the cavernous hall to the 

imposing front doors, stopping briefly to slip on her shoes.  

Moments before the reached the doors themselves, they slowly 

swung open to reveal the long driveway of her family's estate, and 

waiting at the bottom of the front steps, her own personal limo.

     This was how Emi started each day.



     "Emi-chan's birthday party was just perfect, wasn't it?" 

Michiko Ishiyama asked her husband with a smile.  She was an 

elegant, dark-haired woman in her mid-thirties, dressed in 

conservative business attire.  She looked like an older, more 

mature version of Emi, only with the colors all wrong.

     "Yes, the rental of Tokyo Disneyland was surprisingly 

inexpensive, but I suppose the presents that the townspeople 

brought made up for that.  It was a great idea to invite the entire 

town, dear," Ryuji Ishiyama remarked to his wife.  He had the look 

of a former idol or tennis star with his medium build, blue eyes, 

and short wavy blonde hair.  He wore a business suit casually, 

making him seem open and relaxed.

     They were currently having their mid-morning coffee.  It 

was a quiet time for just the two of them, right after Emi had gone 

off to school and before they headed off to the office.

     "Do you think our present was enough?" Michiko asked in 

a slightly worried tone.  "I really wish we could have gotten her 

something more... unique."

     "But dear, she's always wanted her own limo, and I think 

the accessory package we had our automotive wing design more 

than makes up for any lack of originality," Ryuji protested.  "At 

least she'll get some use out of it, unlike that stone idol we got her 

last year."

     Michiko frowned.  "Yes, that had been a mistake, even if it 

is the product of an unknown civilization."

     A pause descended as they both took slow sips of their 

coffee, a silence only disturbed by the ticking of the cuckoo clock 

on the wall.

     "I can't help thinking of what to get Emi-chan for her 

sixteenth birthday," Emi's mother said suddenly.

     Emi's father blinked.  "That's still a ways off, isn't it?  I 

think it'd be better to consider what to get her for her thirteenth 

first."

     Michiko patted her husband affectionately on the cheek.  

"Dear, you don't realize how important turning sixteen is to a girl.  

It's the first time they'll be recognized by society as a woman and 

all that entails.  It's a critical time in a young woman's 

development.  Luckily, my mother understood this."

     "Then we should start considering it now," Ryuji agreed.  

"Because something good enough for our little girl is going to take 

some time to prepare...  Do you have any ideas?"

     Michiko grinned as she set down her coffee so she could 

wrap both arms around her husband.  She whispered in his ear, 

"Oh, I was thinking that the world would make a suitable present."



     Lately, Emi had been using her 'on the way to school' time 

to practice her singing on the limo's karoke machine.  This was 

because she had been approached by a number of companies 

wanting to make her into an idol, but she didn't want to embarrass 

herself with her sub-par artistic skills.  So she kept them dangling 

while she conditioned herself for her debut.  Singing was her focus, 

but dancing, posing, and of course acting cute, were also 

considerations.

     Emi had her future all mapped out, at least in broad strokes.  

Soon she would become an idol, solo or part of a group.  Either 

would help accomplish her goal of making a popular album.  It 

didn't have to be number one as long as it attracted the attention of 

the television industry.

     She'd start with a few cameos in various places, moving up 

to a reoccurring character on a popular series.  Emi wasn't sure if 

she'd be able to swing her own series, but as long as she got a solid 

fan base, it wouldn't matter.

     Then it would be time for high school where Emi would 

drop out of the limelight in order to prepare herself for college.  

After she finally entered the university level of the academy, she'd 

return as a mature idol, probably with a new solo album, and 

follow that with some voice acting in anime.  She didn't want to be 

too devoted to her career with school still to think of.

     After graduation, she'd take over Ishiyama Heavy 

Industries from her now aging parents.  She'd spend several years 

to work the company up to the point where it basically ran itself, at 

the same time using her established popularity to help promote it.

     With that all done, she'd take a break, get married, and 

decide what to do next.  It seemed to Emi like a simple and easy to 

follow plan for success.



     Emi decided to skip singing practice for now.  Instead, she 

struggled mentally to discover the root of her problem, the one 

thing keeping her from becoming more cute.  She was sure it was 

something simple, something that was so obvious that she took it 

for granted.  Something...

     "What kind of food would you like for lunch today, Emi-

san?" the driver suddenly asked, and unknowingly breaking her 

concentration.

     "Italian!" Emi replied gleefully; this was something she had 

already decided on last night.  "I want to have a big bowl of pasta!"

     The driver chuckled in reply.  Emi knew that he was 

Tamiko's husband, and Atsuko's father.  He was such an 

unassuming man that Emi didn't know his name even though she 

had known him her whole life.  They were a family of ninja who 

had been sworn since Emi's birth to protect her and fulfill her every 

need and desire.  They had been a gift from her grandfather, though 

most the ninja family seemed more than willing to carry out this 

task.

     They were five altogether; there was also a boy about her 

age who she had classes with, and Tamiko's father, an old man 

who had been Emi's tutor since she was a baby.  They were always 

waiting for her at the academy, which made Emi speculate to their 

current whereabouts.  Where they crouched in some hidden 

compartment of the limo, or did they have to run ahead to beat it to 

school?



     "Aww, she's not singing this morning," Yoji whined.  He 

was a boy about Emi's age who was nearly identical to the driver of 

the limo, only younger.  "I hope she's okay."

     "Good.  Her normal voice is annoying enough, but her 

singing..." Atsuko shuddered, at least as best she could cramped in 

the trunk of the limo with her brother.

     "You're just jealous, sis," the boy said smugly.

     "Hmph!  You're just blinded by love," she retorted. 

Thankfully, Atsuko didn't have any classes with Emi at school, 

only remaining on call in case she had some sort of emergency, 

though she pitied anyone who managed to kidnap Emi.

     "It's... it's not like that!" Yoji replied quickly, his blush 

hidden by the darkness of the trunk.  "It's just that as ninja we are 

sworn to look out for her welfare...  it's not personal at all!"

     *Yeah, right,* Atsuko thought as she rolled her eyes.  

Sometimes it seemed like she was the only one in the whole town 

that wasn't charmed by that little brat.



     Akajima Academy was an exclusive private school where 

students were admitted by invitation only.  It consequently 

educated the offspring of the VIPs of Japan and a few from other 

nations as well.  Graduation from this esteemed establishment 

guaranteed a fast track to success in whatever the person set had 

their sights on, from business, politics, to the arts.

     The students, all in uniform, were playing, chatting, or even 

studying out in the courtyard as the principal waited at the end of 

the driveway, occasionally glancing at her watch.  When a sleek 

black limo pulled up with the low hum of its powerful engine, 

most stopped what they were doing to watch.  The principal stood 

up straight, checking her appearance one last time.

     "Good morning, minna!" Emi shouted with more volume 

than she looked capable of as she exited the limo with a bounce in 

her step, her golden curls bouncing in sympathetic vibration.  

Usagi-kun even waggled his ears at the crowd in a friendly fashion.

     "Good morning, Emi-chan!" most of the students shouted 

back.  Some immediately returned to whatever they had been 

doing, while others continued to watch what had become a 

morning ritual.

     The principal bowed to the little girl, then said with a 

friendly smile, "Good morning, Emi-chan.  You're looking very 

cute today."

     "Thank you, principal-san!" Emi exclaimed, curtsying 

cutely.  In her quest for cute, Emi had come to realize that 

everyone she had regular contact with either became so used to her 

cuteness that they failed to appreciate any changes she made, or 

just immunized themselves to its effects and ignored it.  Either 

way, they were no longer a accurate guide to her current level of 

kawaii, which was why she needed to meet new people often.

     As the principal took Emi's hand in hers and lead her off to 

school, Emi glanced around at the other students that filled the 

courtyard.  Some still watched her, a few even shouting praises, 

which she thanked them for automatically.  The others though were 

reading, studying, or playing with their friends.

     *Friends?* Emi rolled that thought around in her mind, 

feeling she was getting close to something, but not sure what yet.



     In a room a short distance from all this, where the shouts of 

the crowd were no more than a muted unintelligible hiss, Junko 

Kitaue impatiently waited for the vice-principal to finish her 

registration.  She was a rather plain girl with short brown hair and 

brown eyes.  Even her lightly tanned skin wasn't enough to make 

her stand out much, especially since she was already wearing her 

new school uniform.  She slumped in the too-large chair before the 

imposing desk of the vice-principal, her eyes narrowed as if to burn 

a hole in the oak with the strength of her glare.

     "There we are, all done," the vice-principal told her 

cheerfully as he shuffled some papers and deposited them in a 

filing cabinet.  "Welcome to Akajima Academy."

     Junko crossed her arms instead of accepting the offered 

handshake.  "Where's the principal?  Wasn't she supposed to do all 

this?"

     The vice-principal attempted to hide his embarrassment by 

adjusting his glasses.  "The principal... I'm sure she feels terrible 

about not being able to greet you herself, but she had something 

important that she just had to attend to."

     "Whatever," Junko said with a shrug.  Her parents had 

recently moved to America, just like her grandparents had when 

Junko had only been a few years old.  That wouldn't have bothered 

her if they just had taken her with them, but for some reason they 

wanted her to continue to have a normal life in Japan.

     Junko sighed as she was lead off to her new class, 

wondering where the nearest arcade was.



     Emi's desk was in the exact center of the classroom, chosen 

by her one the first day of school for maximum adoration potential.  

It was also the focus of the teacher, which was useful when she 

wanted to answer a question.

     Right now she wasn't paying attention to the before class 

chaos that was happening all around her, as the thought of 'friends' 

was like a barb in her mind that no amount of thought could shake.  

Emi didn't have anyone she could really call her friend, even 

though there were hordes of people she was friendly with.

     Emi had never thought that true friendship was all that 

important.  In fact, since it would take time and effort to maintain, 

it would take away time for cute practice.  Besides, she had all the 

companionship she needed in her parents, her ninja, and her stuffed 

animal, which currently occupied her lap.

     Perhaps though, her lack of a best friend was the very thing 

that was holding her back and preventing her from becoming more 

cute.  If she had a best friend after all, she could use that person to 

sound off cute theories on, getting a clearer idea of what step she 

needed to take next.



     "Good morning, class," Shoko Matsuno, their homeroom 

teacher, said to them with a small nod as she walked over to her 

desk.  She was a serious woman who was always stern yet fair to 

her students.  Emi liked her even if she didn't praise the little girl 

for being so cute.

     "Good morning, Matsuno-sensei!" the class answered in 

unison, causing a small smile to flicker on the teacher's lips.

     Shoko quickly checked attendance by glancing around the 

room, before nodding to herself and telling the class.  "Today, a 

new student will be joining us.  I want all of you to do your best to 

make her feel welcome."

     The door to the class slid open once again and out stepped 

Junko, who glanced over the class uninterested, until her eyes 

stopped almost of their own will.  Right in the middle of the class, 

out among a sea of uniforms, sat a girl wearing a bright blue dress, 

idly fluffing her blonde curly hair, and clutching a stuffed rabbit 

close to her.  Junko blinked and stared, only to have the girl smile 

cutely back at her.

     "Ms. Junko Kitaue, please introduce yourself," the teacher 

instructed after writing the girl's name on the chalkboard.

     Junko bowed to the class, and keeping her eyes averted 

from the odd girl, said, "I transferred to this school because my 

parents moved to America, but wanted me to stay in Japan.  I know 

this is a very difficult school, but I will do my best."

     *She's not very cute, is she?* Emi thought as she sized the 

new student up.  Boyish haircut, plain appearance, walking like a 

tomboy; she even had an un-cute name...

     "Now where shall Junko-san sit?" the teacher asked herself 

as she glanced around the room.  There were several empty desks, 

but she wanted a place where she could make sure that Junko was 

adjusting well to her new school.

     "Right here, sensei!" Emi declared enthusiastically as she 

indicated the desk next to her, wobbling it around for emphasis.

     The teacher smiled.  Emi was just so friendly, she was the 

just the right person to make Junko feel comfortable in her new 

school.  "Thank you, Emi-san.  I believe that will be the perfect 

seat for Junko-san."

     *Is that girl insane?* Junko thought with a worried glance.  

*I don't want to sit next to her!*  She had a feeling that requesting 

to sit someplace else would be a bad idea though, so with great 

reluctance, she walked over and took the seat indicated, doing her 

best to ignore the odd girl next to her.

     Only the girl quickly proved to be unignorable.  "Hello!  

I'm Emi-chan!  Pleased to meet you!" the girl shouted cheerfully as 

she grabbed Junko's hand and shook it.

     "I'm Junko," she replied as she managed to free her hand.  

She felt weird introducing herself after having just done so before 

the whole class, but couldn't think of what else to say.  She 

certainly wasn't pleased to meet Emi; she was starting to wonder if 

this girl was some kind of psycho that people left alone out of fear 

of getting hurt.  "Say, did you know there's a boy with a camera 

filming you right now?"

     "Of course, that's his job!" Emi answered with a smile, 

turning around briefly to wave at Yoji, who managed to wave back 

shyly while keeping the camcorder steady.

     "Whatever," Junko said with a shrug as she focused her 

attention on the teacher and away form the weird girl.

     Emi giggled cutely in reply, and much to Junko's relief, 

also turned her attention back to the teacher.  The plain girl sighed, 

a moment too soon as a folded note landed on the dead center of 

her desk.  It had her name written on it in stylized kanji, 

surrounded by doodles of hearts, stars, and flowers.

     With a feeling to dread in the pit of her stomach, Junko 

carefully unfolded the note and scanned its contents.  It read, 'I 

think you're really neat!  Want to be friends?  Emi-chan.'  The kanji 

was surprisingly elegant for such a simple message.  Adding in all 

the doodles that surrounded it like a frame, Emi couldn't have had 

much time to pen this.

     Junko glanced over to the girl in question, only to find Emi 

grinning back at her, her expression filled to the brim with 

innocent joy.  Junko wanted to write, 'no, you're crazy' or just 

ignore the note entirely, but she feared what would happen if she 

did.  Even if the girl wasn't insane, her parents had to be kami with 

all the things they let her get away with in this school.

     'Sure,' she wrote quickly, folding up the note and tossing it 

onto Emi's desk without looking.  Then she shoved all thoughts of 

psycho blonde girls out of her mind and concentrated on the 

lesson.

     Roughly five minutes later, yet another note arrived.  This 

time her name was enclosed in a big heart and the contents read, 

'Wai!  We're going to be the best friends ever, Junko-chan!  Let's 

have lunch together!'  Junko did find the drawing of an SD-Emi 

waving victory fans to be amusing at least.

     Junko had been a loner all of her life, making few friends as 

girly stuff normally turned her stomach and boys tended to be 

disgusting.  The one thing she really hated was those girls that 

pretend to be friendly to your face and just make fun of you behind 

your back.  Emi didn't seem bright enough for that at first, but now 

she wasn't so sure.

     'Okay,' she wrote in response, returning the note.  

Thankfully, another failed to appear immediately afterwards and 

she was able to return to the lesson, doing her best to ignore the 

sight of Emi grinning at her.

     Emi managed to keep up a steady stream of cute, and 

usually substanceless, messages during the class, while Junko did 

her best to stick with one-word answers.  The plain girl couldn't 

help noticing how the teachers all ignored this activity, something 

that wouldn't have been tolerated in her older school, which from 

what she had seen had been a lot less strict than this one.  For some 

reason, Emi was exempt from the rules.

     Emi also was obviously not the dimwit she had first 

appeared to be, at least when it came to scholastic matters.  The 

teachers praised her, but not without reason.  Her homework was 

letter-perfect and she seemed able to answer any question, no 

matter how difficult, with only a moment of thought.  Junko was 

finding it hard to believe that this was the same person who kept 

writing such silly messages.



     Finally, the lunch bell rang.  With a small sigh of relief, 

Junko stood to go get her lunch from her locker.  She was planning 

to find a nice quiet place to eat, far away from overly-cute girls.

     "Wai!  It's time for lunch!" Emi exclaimed as she leapt out 

of her seat, grabbed Junko's hand in an iron grip, and dragged her 

outside, Junko's protests falling on deaf ears.  The girl noted that 

Emi's stuffed rabbit seemed a bit distressed to also be handed in 

this manner.  *At least I'm not the only one.*

     Out in the center of the school's courtyard, a small table had 

been placed, looking like something lifted from an Italian 

restaurant.   Two place settings and a chianti candle had been set 

over a white and red checkered tablecloth.  Emi set Junko down in 

one chair and took the one opposite for herself.

     Junko blushed in embarrassment to see all the other 

students stopping their own meals to stare at her, not to mention 

the boy who was still filming Emi for some bizarre purpose.  Some 

even cheered for the cute blonde girl, who accepted this adoration 

with enthusiastic waves and giggles.  Junko hid her face behind the 

menu she was given.

     *Menu?* she thought in surprise, blinking as she looked up 

to see an elderly man standing by their table, who she was sure 

hadn't been there a moment ago.  He was a tall man with grey hair 

and a long moustache, with an almost tangible aura of power about 

him that didn't fit the role of a waiter.

     "Take your time, Junko-chan," Emi told her from the other 

end of the table, looking over her own menu.

     Realizing there was nothing she could say that wouldn't 

make her look like a fool, Junko just shook her head and glanced 

over the menu, taking occasional sips from a glass of ice water that 

had somehow appeared on the table.

     With a smile, Emi placed her lunch order in only slightly 

accented Italian, the waiter replying in kind as he accepted her 

menu with a small bow.

     Junko had been puzzling out the menu for some minutes, 

only to realize that the entire thing, the names of the dishes and 

their descriptions, was in Italian.  Foreign languages had never 

been her strong suit and she had never even seen Italian before, but 

she wasn't the sort of person to admit a failing like that.  Emi had 

probably set this whole thing up just to embarrass her anyway, now 

waiting for the chance to strike.  Junko wasn't about to give her the 

satisfaction.

     "That sounds good, I'll have the same," Junko told the 

waiter with a confident smile, that only wavered when he vanished 

right before her eyes.

     "It must be fun to move to a new place!" Emi said to her 

suddenly, distracting the plain girl from the strange occurrences 

that seemed to be happening all around this equally strange girl.  

"Where were you from before, Junko-chan?"

     Junko flinched at being called '-chan' yet again; not even 

her own parents had called her that.  "Osaka," she admitted 

hesitantly, unsure if it was a good idea to tell this girl anything 

about herself.

     Emi nodded enthusiastically to this.  "Wai!  I guessed right!  

I thought you were from Osaka with the funny way you talk!  I like 

it though, I think it makes you cute!"

     Junko was starting to believe that the hardest thing about 

her new school would not be the homework.  She did not talk 

funny and she was most definitely not cute.  Her parents had 

moved to Osaka only just before her birth, so she had grown up to 

the sounds of overly formal Japanese.  School life had made her 

language skills a little rough around the edges, but she didn't think 

she had the distinctive Osaka dialect.

     As far back as Junko could remember, people had been 

forcing the idea that girls had to be cute down her throat.  For a 

while she tried and tried to live up to their expectations, but the 

simple fact was she just wasn't cute; not in any way, shape, or 

form.  She accepted it and was much happier when she had 

dropped the whole cute act, but it still annoyed her when people 

thought being female and cute had to go together.

     Junko opened her mouth to say some very non-cute things, 

only to be silenced when a bowl filled with pasta suddenly 

appeared before her, along with a small plate of garlic bread and a 

glass of milk.  She blinked to see that the waiter had returned and 

was now serving Emi.

     "Thank you, Ichiro-sensei!" Emi exclaimed in glee as she 

eyed the mountain of pasta with wide eyes.

     "You're welcome, Emi," the man replied with a smile and a 

short bow before vanishing once again.

     "Sensei?" Junko thought out loud, wondering if Emi's 

parents had so much pull that they could force some of the best 

educators in Japan to become waiters.

     "He was my tutor when I was little.  He taught me a whole 

bunch of stuff!" Emi explained with a giggle of amusement.  "Now 

let's eat!"

     Junko had to admit that the scent wafting up to her had 

jump-started saliva production.  She wasn't even sure how to 

pronounce the dish before her, but it sure smelled good.  So she 

tentatively brought some of the noodles up to her mouth and took a 

small bite.  Her stomach grumbled its approval while adding a 

demand for more.  Junko complied eagerly, never having much in 

the way of table manners.

     "Do you like it?" Emi asked suddenly, halting Junko's 

vacuum cleaner impersonation.

     Junko nodded enthusiastically, having just enough manners 

not to speak when her mouth was stuffed full of noodles.

     "Wai!  I'm so happy my new best friend likes the same food 

I do!  I knew we had a lot in common!" Emi enthused, doing a 

little dance in her seat.

     Junko thought that anyone who didn't like this dish had to 

suffer from malfunctioning tastebuds, but decided to take a big bite 

out of the garlic bread than comment.  If she got to eat food like 

this every day, it might not be so bad to be Emi's friend.  The girl 

was plain bizarre, but harmless, and there did seem to be a brain 

hiding behind all that fluff.  If Emi honestly wanted to be her 

friend, the least Junko could do was give her that chance.



     Emi was practically beaming as the praise from students 

and teachers rained down upon her.  The plateau where she had 

been stranded for weeks was no longer in sight; she was already far 

beyond, into the land of kawaii that she only had faint glimpses of 

before.  She was cuter now; she didn't need others to tell her, she 

could feel it deep down inside.  Still, the opinions of others were 

certainly nice.

     Something had happened at lunch, something she had only 

realized now while getting ready for gym.  Eating by herself had 

made her conscious of those watching her, forcing her to think up 

opportunities to be cute.  With Junko, however, those opportunities 

had come naturally, and after a while Emi had completely 

forgotten about the crowd as she focused her attention on her new 

friend.  She would have to study the footage from today with 

special care.

     Emi had liked Junko almost right from the start.  There was 

something so different about that girl that interested her.  Emi had 

never felt the need to be accepted by anyone before, since everyone 

she wanted to accept her had done so immediately.  She could feel 

Junko's reluctance, and the desire to overcome that had given Emi 

a goal greater than being cute for cute's sake.  Before she thought 

that friendship would be a waste of effort, but she now saw that it 

was just the opposite.



     One of the advantages of being a complete tomboy, and not 

caring at all what people thought about it, was that Junko tended to 

be more athletic than most girls and could really show off at gym.  

Of course there were some girls who called her an unfeminine 

gorilla-girl, but she knew they were just jealous.  Most girls said 

they wished that they could perform feats like she could.

     Today was the dreaded hobby horse, which some girls 

couldn't even manage to clear.  Making sure that her new self-

declared best friend was watching, Junko started with a handstand 

on the top of the horse, springing into a back flip that landed her on 

her feet without so much as a stumble.

     The crowd cheered over her little demonstration, but none 

were quite as vocal or enthusiastic as Emi.  "Sugoi!  Sugoi!  You're 

great Junko-chan!  Hooray, Hooray for Junko-chan!" the blonde 

girl exclaimed as she bounced all over the place, waving pompoms 

in the air, probably given to her by that vanishing guy from lunch.

     Junko felt a bit disappointed that people were now paying 

more attention to Emi's antics than her for her little stunt, not that 

that mattered much to her, especially the attention of the boys.  

     One boy especially, the one who was constantly recording 

Emi's antics, and she suspected even tried to film them in the girl's 

locker room.  Suddenly, her eyes met his and she was shocked by 

the intensity of his glare, directed quite firmly at her.

     "It's your turn now, Emi-chan," the gym teacher said 

suddenly, putting a halt to Emi's cheerleading routine and 

distracting Junko away from the boy who obviously hated her for 

some reason.

     Emi nodded cutely and raced up to Junko, shoving the 

pompoms into the other girl's hands.  "Now you can cheer for me, 

okay?"     

     "Do your best," Junko told her with a slight smirk as she 

accepted the pompoms.  She'd be surprised if this pampered girl 

could even clear the horse.  Junko nearly fell over in surprise when 

the smaller girl impulsively embraced her.

     "I will!" Emi replied enthusiastically as she spun away and 

got ready for her attempt.

     "Go, Emi, go," Junko cheered half-heartedly, only to be 

drowned out by the other students all shouting 'Emi-chan' over and 

over, a chant that quickly filled the room.

     Emi looked cutely serious as she eyed the horse before her 

and took a deep breath, bending down like a track star.  The chant 

faded away to nothing until the only sound seemed to be Emi's 

breathing.  Then her body seemed to blur as it shot into motion, 

flipping once, twice, three times, with the last having three 

complete rotations before she finally hit the ground, lightly on her 

feet with cat-like grace.  Somehow her hair was still perfect.

     Junko was barely aware of the deafening cheer that filled 

the gym as she stared stunned at the grinning face of Emi.  The 

blonde girl's parents had to be former gymnasts turned Diet 

members, forcing their daughter to train every day until she 

collapsed from exhaustion; because it just wasn't fair if that was the 

product of natural talent.



     Junko breathed a huge sigh of relief as she slipped on her 

shoes and made ready to head for what was likely to be her home 

for years to come.  She didn't mind living with her uncle, even if he 

was a little strange, but at least there wouldn't be any overly-cute, 

pushy, spoiled, super-athletic girls there.

     "Guess who!" said an all too familiar voice as dainty hands 

covered Junko's eyes.

     "A talking monkey," Junko guessed, irritated because she 

knew all too well who it was.  There was no way in the world she'd 

ever forget that voice.

     The response was a string of giggles followed by the 

'mysterious person' saying, "Nope!  Guess again!  I'll give you a 

little hint:  she's your best friend in the whole world!"

     Junko managed to suppress the urge to groan.  "Mom, have 

you been sucking on helium again?"

     Another chorus of giggles came as a prelude to enthusiastic 

hug and a blonde head of hair rubbing against her shoulder.  "No, 

silly!  It's me, Emi-chan!"

     "That was my next guess," Junko replied flatly as she did 

her best to dislodge the affectionate girl from her, noting out of the 

corner of her eye that the boy from before was still using her for 

glare practice while keeping his camera training on Emi.  "School's 

over, time to go home," Junko added, hoping this insane blonde 

girl would get the hint.

     "Right, let's go!" Emi enthused as she grabbed Junko's hand 

and dragged her in the direction of the entrance, dragging her 

stuffed bunny along with the other.

     "I meant each of us go to our own, _separate_ homes," 

Junko clarified as she vainly tried to shake her hand free.

     Emi giggled, which seemed her initial response to 

everything.  "You're so silly, Junko-chan.  Of course we have 

separate homes, but what kind of best friend would I be if I didn't 

give my best friend a ride home?"

     "I'll walk, it's not far.  Don't go through the trouble," Junko 

told her, though she wanted to explore the neighborhood a bit first, 

in search of arcades and other dens of amusement.

     "It's no trouble at all for my new best friend!" Emi declared 

with finger upraised in a what Junko assumed was supposed to be a 

dramatic pose.  She thought that it just looked silly.  "Besides, I 

haven't shown you the neat limo my parents got me for my 

birthday yet!"

     *She has her own limo.  Why am I not surprised?* Junko 

thought with a sigh of resignation as she let Emi drag her to the 

front of the school and into the limo which waited there.



     Kozo Kitaue waited impatiently for his niece to arrive 

home from her first day in a new school.  Why had his younger 

brother trusted him with her?  He knew all too well that his older 

sibling wasn't the most reliable person in the world.  If he had 

been, he would have been the one to leave Japan; as the elder 

brother it normally would have been his duty.  The addendum 

made by his mother, Junko's grandmother, only intensified his 

worry.

     He went over his collection as he waited, but could find no 

comfort in it.  He only noted the empty spaces, the few pieces he 

needed to make it complete.  It might as well have been a million 

with the chance he ever had of obtaining the rarest of the rare, 

hoarded by his fellow collectors.

     Carefully putting his collection away yet again, Kozo 

happened to glance out the window, blinking in surprise to see a 

black limo pull up to the front of the house.  He had thought that 

everything had been settled with the Japanese government for the 

foreseeable future, but then again it didn't look like a government 

car.



     This time Junko made sure that Emi had safely driven far 

away before finally sighing in relief.  Freed from the restraints 

placed upon her by school, Emi had been chattering non-stop in the 

limo, bouncing around from topic to topic even more than she 

bounced herself.  Junko was thankful that some higher power had 

decided she had suffered enough when her uncle's house had come 

into view as Emi mentioned her karoke machine.

     Junko tried her key on the door, surprised when it was 

opened for her by her uncle.  "Hi, Uncle Kozo.  Don't you usually 

work at this time?"

     "I took the day off so I could make sure you were settled," 

he said distractedly as he looked up the street.  "Junko, why did 

you come home in a limo?"

     "Because of my new best friend," Junko answered 

sarcastically as she slipped off her shoes and entered the living 

room.  She smiled a bit as she saw her uncle's wide-screen TV.  

There were a few compensations for her life being suddenly 

thrown into chaos.

     "Some pushy little blonde brat who decided I was her best 

friend," Junko added as she plunked down on the nice soft couch.  

Her uncle had a really nice place.  He had to be doing well to 

afford it.  "She really got on my nerves, but I couldn't do anything 

about it since everyone at school seems to worship her.  I think her 

name was Emi Ishiyama."

     "Emi-chan?" Kozo asked in surprise as he turned around 

after shutting the door.

     "Yeah, she always calls herself that, like she's still five 

years old or something.  You've heard of her?"

     Instead of replying, Kozo lead Junko off to a small interior 

room, unlocked the door, and turned on the light.

     Junko felt like throwing up.  Everywhere she looked, Emi 

was grinning back at her.  Some were younger versions, some were 

even super-deformed, made into plushies or stickers, but all had 

the same blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and carefree smile.  A lot of 

it seemed to be promotional material for various products, 

combined with photo ops and press materials.  There were also a 

number of items that looked hand made, like the plushies or the 

pillow.

     "Eww, lolita," Junko said, making a face of disgust as she 

looked back at Kozo.  Her mother had warned her about dirty old 

men who go after sweet young girls, but she would have never 

suspected her own uncle.

     "No, no, no, I swear it's not like that!" Kozo protested 

vehemently.  "It's just that Emi-chan is so cute that I can't help 

collecting things connected to her.  It's all perfectly innocent!"

     "Does my father know about this...?" Junko asked, unable 

to bring herself to finish her question.

     Kozo hung his head.  "Yes, he does."

     "Well, okay," Junko said reluctantly.  "Just don't try 

anything.  I'm a very light sleeper and I keep a baseball bat handy!"

     Kozo flinched, at either the lack of trust or the idea of 

getting bashed with a baseball bat.  "You don't quite understand.  

You see that Emi-chan's parents own the company which I work 

for, Ishiyama Heavy Industries, a very powerful company..."



     "I'm sorry, but neither president can be reached at this 

time," the head secretary of Ishiyama Heavy Industries explained 

with only slight impatience.  "Yes, I'm well aware of who you are 

Mr. Gates, but they are in a very important meeting at the moment 

and left strict orders not to be disturbed.  Good-bye."

     The secretary hung up the phone with a smirk, looking 

down at 'nookie?' written into the her scheduler in the hand of one 

president, with 'yes!' in the writing of the other.  They were terribly 

effective business people, but sometimes they acted just like 

children.



     At this same moment, one of the presidents of IHI was 

giggling.  This was because the other president, who also happened 

to be her husband, was tickling her.  She retaliated with a tickle 

attack of her own that somehow ended up as a lingering kiss.

     "I love you, madam president," Ryuji told her with a smile.

     "I love you, mister president," Michiko echoed with a small 

laugh.

     The dual heads of IMI continued to act like newlyweds 

even though, and their daughter was proof, they had been married 

for quite some time.  They did their best to not let it interfere with 

business, however.

     It had all started during the proposed merger of Ishi 

Electronics, which built everything from microwaves to satellites, 

with Yama Automotive, who constructed everything from bicycles 

to tanks.  For a long time such a merger between the two 

companies would have been mutually beneficial, but the old heads 

of those companies had both been reluctant to risk giving even an 

ounce of their power to the other.  It didn't help that they had met 

socially on a number of occasions and hadn't liked each other 

much.

     This all changed when both retired to place their respective 

companies in the hands of their offspring, Michiko Ishi and Ryuji 

Yama, the two having already proven themselves successful in the 

business world.  Both of them agreed that a merger was not just a 

benefit, but a necessity and had to be done as soon as possible.  A 

face to face meeting was quickly arranged to discuss the 

preliminaries.

     That was when something unexpected happened.  The two 

young yet already hardened business people met for the first time 

and fell deeply in love with each other.  Discussions over a merger 

quickly spilled over into wedding plans.

     Their parents had no objections to the merger, but the 

marriage was something else entirely.  It took all of the combined 

savvy of the two young lovers to convince their parents, but even 

then it still wasn't enough.  Both fathers took a stand which family 

name the new couple would be married under.

     So Ryuji and Michiko took the name they had decided for 

their new company, Ishiyama, and used it for themselves as well, 

stunning their fathers just long enough to get their reluctant 

approval.  Mr. and Mrs. Ishiyama became the joint owners of 

Ishiyama Heavy Industries, sharing their power, their office, and 

even sometimes the same chair, equally.

     They only had one daughter for the same reason they only 

wanted one company.  They wanted to focus all of their love and 

attention without having to worry about varying wants or needs.  

Of course they knew that a company was complex, but then so was 

their daughter.



     "But how will we do it?" Michiko said suddenly, resting 

quite comfortably in her husband's lap.

     "Do what, dear?" Ryuji asked as he ran his fingers through 

her silken hair, holding the dark purple strands up to shimmer in 

the light.

     "Take over the world, of course.  It's not something that's 

going to be easy to accomplish, and four years doesn't give us a 

great deal of time.  Others have tried before and failed miserably."

     "But none were ever as beautiful as you, dear," he told her, 

holding her close to him.

     "Flatterer," she accused, kissing him on the cheek.  "Please 

try and be serious.  This is for Emi-chan, after all."

     "Well, we do have the most powerful company in Japan, 

that should be somewhat helpful," Ryuji told her, only slightly 

serious.

     Michiko nodded.  "Yes, we could build all the vehicles 

needed for war and finance our own army, but someone is bound to 

notice and put a stop to us.  I believe, like any good corporation, 

the UN frowns at takeover attempts."

     "We'll just have to set up another company then," he 

husband told her.  "Something small so that it won't be noticed, at 

least right away, and with no obvious connections back to us."

     "It wouldn't be easy," his wife countered.  "We'd need to 

store all those tanks and planes.  We couldn't just hide them away 

behind a waterfall or in a underground lair like they do in those 

giant robot anime..."

     Ryuji couldn't help noticing the far-away look in her wife's 

eyes now; it was a look that she always got when an idea was 

almost ready to bubble to the surface.  "What is it, dear?"

     "An army of tanks, planes, and such would be nearly 

impossible to hide, but if we could build something else, just a few 

somethings that had the same firepower as an army each, they 

wouldn't be so difficult to hide, now would they?"

     "I suppose so," he replied slowly, wondering what his wife 

was getting at.  "But what could we possibly make that could equal 

the firepower of an entire army?"

     "Giant robots," she replied, and then noting her husband's 

look, added, "I know it sounds crazy, but I've looked into it for 

manufacturing purposes before and found out that while not 

economically sound, it was possible.  We can just take one scientist 

and a small crew, ship them off to a remote plant and just have 

them build the things for three years or so.  By that time we should 

have more than enough firepower to take over the world, and we 

wouldn't even need a large amount of personnel to do it."

     Ryuji thought about this in silence for a few moments as he 

continued to snuggle with his wife.  "Hmm, there was that woman 

we fired only a few days ago from R&D for conducting those odd 

experiments.  She might be a good test subject to see if this is 

indeed possible, without risking any of our more valuable 

scientists.  I think the majority of them would balk at such a 

request."

     "You mean that... disgusting woman who came on to you?" 

Michiko asked with uncharacteristic tone of anger in her voice.  

She would never forget the way that blonde... witch had latched 

onto her husband like a leech.  It had taken three security personnel 

to pry her off too.

     "I admit that she did seem... somewhat unreliable, but her 

designs prove she's a genius.  I think if we want to go ahead with 

your plan, we don't really have any other option."

     Michiko sighed and nodded.  "Anyone else we have that's 

capable of this would refuse unless we put the screws on them, and 

that would guarantee the secret would get out."

     "And I better talk to her about this alone," his wife added 

after a moment of silence.  "I don't want to see her rubbing up 

against my husband like a cat in heat for the second time."

     Ryuji smiled as he rubbed against his wife.  Michiko 

grinned in return, and conversation was put on hold as they tended 

to other... important matters.



     Junko went to her new room and began to unpack her 

things, finding the furniture a bit too girly for her tastes but 

otherwise fine.  It was nearly twice the size of her old room, which 

meant plenty of space for her models, manga, and assorted anime 

tapes.  There was also enough space of the clothes that she had, but 

she really didn't care about them, and a baseball bat under the bed 

just in case.

     She brought one small box downstairs where her uncle was 

idly watching his big screen TV.  She had decided that he wasn't 

really ecchi, only a little weird, but would keep her guard anyway.  

"Is it okay I hook my game system up here?"

     "Sure, no problem.  Go ahead and play now if you want; I 

wasn't really watching anything," Kozo told her with a smile, 

expecting a cute girl game like a date sim or something with 

talking animals.  He was also glad to see she was no longer angry 

at him for his little hobby.

     With the subconscious skill of someone who had done the 

same thing countless times before, Junko quickly hooked up the 

game system to the TV, inserting her current favorite game and 

starting it up.

     The IMI company logo appeared and faded to be replaced 

by the title 'Super Blood Fist 2', which was smashed by a fist when 

Junko pressed start, sending blood and vague organic matter flying 

all over the place before clearing and coming to a character 

selection screen.  Junko choose Ken, there was always a character 

named 'Ken' in these games for some reason, and unleashed her 

character's mad martial arts skills on the faceless minions 

belonging to her first opponent.

     Her favorite move was the head exploder, at least that's 

what she called it.  Her character would make a big 'Oooh' sound 

and start rapidly poking the minion in the skull until it burst with a 

shower of blood and brains.  Junko laughed every time this 

happened because it was just too silly, even for these sort of 

games.

     For a while, Kozo simply sat their stunned, unwilling to 

believe that his niece was gleefully beating electronic bad guys to 

bloody pulps.  What snapped him out of it was the thought of the 

gift that his mother had told him to give her, a thought that chilled 

him to the bone, but she hadn't left him with much choice.  Then 

again, once his niece had it, he wouldn't have to worry about her so 

much anymore.

     "Junko?" he asked her tentatively.

     "Yeah?" Junko asked back, completely focused on beating 

a guy senseless with his own leg as he tried to hop away.

     "I have... something your grandmother wanted to you to 

have, and I think that now is a good time to give it to you.  We can 

go up to the attic and get it after you've finished your game."

     "Okay," Junko replied, then added, "But I'll kick your ass if 

you try any of that sick lolita stuff on me."

     *I've got a feeling that this is a really bad idea,* Kozo 

thought, but said nothing.



     *Is this really the right address?* Michiko thought as she 

checked the records on her laptop one more time.  Her limo had 

stopped before a derelict building that looked half torn down 

already.  It was something that should have been part of the 

Hiroshima ruins than actually inhabited.  She could swear she even 

smelled smoke.

     There wasn't anything Michiko wouldn't do for her 

daughter, however, so she cautiously stepped out of her limo and 

approached the front door.  The bell was no more than a mass of 

wires so she tried knocking, only for the blackened, slashed, and 

partially chewed on door to fall off of its hinges.  She listened to 

the echo of its loud slamming fade off to nothing.

     "Hello?  Anybody home?" Michiko called out, getting no 

response.  She wasn't about to give up so easily, she wouldn't have 

been the businesswoman she was if she did, so being careful to 

avoid staining her clothes on the crusted and soot-stained walls, 

she stepped inside.

     The smell of smoke was significantly stronger now, enough 

that Michiko was able to follow it to its source.  It lead her to 

kitchen whose smell alone was enough to make her stomach turn.  

The sight of it nearly made her heave her guts right on the floor, 

which was unlikely to change the condition of the room any.  

     Half-eaten food lay all about, mostly a feast for insects.  

Thankfully, there wasn't many of those, probably because the rats 

were feeding on them.  Trash had been thrown in the general 

direction of the waste bin.  The refrigerator, surprisingly still in 

operation, hung open revealing things that looked more like fungal 

experiments than food.

     In the middle of it all lay a human form covered in a 

tattered lab coat, slumped face down on a table, a small thread of 

smoke rising from the general vicinity of the head.

     *Is she... dead?* Michiko thought with growing horror.  

She had given the woman every chance to change her ways before 

sacking her, but now witnessing the appalling conditions under 

which she lived, Michiko wished that she had just sent the woman 

away to one of their subsidiaries overseas.  Michiko knew that a 

suicide she had been the indirect cause of would prey on her 

conscious for years to come.

     Michiko had to check to make sure though, so she very 

tentatively reached out and poked the vague form hidden away 

under the stained lab coat.  She jumped back in surprise when the 

figure squealed like a stuck pig and began to race around the room 

on all fours, scattering its filth all over the place.

     "Stop this instant!" Michiko commanded, doing her best to 

avoid getting struck by stray garbage.  She had never felt more 

revolted in her whole life.

     To her surprise, the figure stopped.  She could now make 

out the form of a very disheveled of a young blonde-haired woman 

smoking on a bent cigarette as she squatted on the ground.  This 

was the scientist that had been fired only a few days ago, but she 

had clearly gone insane in the meantime, if she hadn't been already.

     "Hey, don't I know you?" Nayoko asked as she stood and 

dusted herself off, revealing that the only thing she was wearing 

under her lab coat was frilly pink underwear and knee high black 

leather boots.

     It was some moments before Michiko was able to speak.  

"Yes, I was the one who fired you from Ishiyama Heavy Industries 

only a few days ago."

     "No wonder I keep forgetting to set my alarm," Nayoko 

said with a nod as she hopped up on the table to sit cross-legged.  

She tossed the lit cigarette in the direction of the trash as she 

scratched herself.  "So what are you doing here?"

     *I should just make up some excuse and leave,* Michiko 

thought, positive that Nayoko was the most disgusting woman she 

had ever met, and someone she wouldn't trust with a tea spoon 

much less the means to build major military hardware.  But then 

again this was for her daughter and her husband was right that 

using someone else was likely to cause serious problems.

     "I came here... to offer you a new line of employment, but I 

can see that you wouldn't be interested," Michiko said slowly, 

doing her best to avoid looking at the woman, but was finding the 

room an even worse sight.

     "Hmm, what kind of a job?" Nayoko asked around an unlit 

cigarette as she dug around in her refrigerator.  "Hey, you want 

something to eat?  I found some tofu that still looks good."

     "I ate just before I came here," Michiko lied quickly; it was 

a good thing her stomach was mostly empty or it would have soon 

been completely so.  "It's a bit of an odd request.  My husband and 

I were wondering if you would like to head a small project for the 

purpose of... building giant robots."

     "For what?" Nayoko asked in confusion as she plunked a 

half-empty beer down next to a container of tofu, sitting herself 

before her 'breakfast.'

     "Umm, giant robots.  I know it may sound absurd, but it is 

mechanically possible.  My husband and I decided to look into it as 

sort of a test..."  Michiko stopped talking when she realized she 

was now the only one in the room.  "Nayoko-san?"

     A few moments later, Nayoko ran back into the room on all 

fours, holding a large spooled up piece of paper in her mouth.  This 

she quickly unfolded on the table, not seeming to notice or care 

that she knocked her beer and tofu on the floor as a result.

     Very slowly, but unable to contain her curiosity, Michiko 

approached the table to see what the mad woman had brought.  She 

jumped about a foot in the air when Nayoko's arm wrapped around 

her, bringing her body close to hers.  The woman reeked of stale 

sweat, smoke, and cheap perfume.

     "This is one of my more recent plans," Nayoko chattered 

animatedly as she pointed out things of interest, unaware of the 

other woman's discomfort.  "I get most of my ideas from anime.  

You see, this one can ever change into a low obit spacecraft, but 

it's much cooler as a robot, especially with the huge sword..."

     Michiko had taken a dual major of business and 

engineering at the Academy so she knew enough to read 

schematics and blueprints.  Despite the disheveled state of 

Nayoko's appearance and mind, the plans were neatly made, very 

detailed and specific, but most of all, looked like they could 

actually work.

     "How quickly do you think you could build this?" Michiko 

asked, feeling a growing excitement.

     Nayoko scratched her head and replied, "Don't know, a 

week maybe, if I had everything I needed.  The hard part is 

planning it all out.  Building them is pretty easy, actually.  Just like 

putting a model together, only a lot more parts."

     "Good, we have a small factory already set up for this 

purpose," Michiko told her with a smile.  "It's completely 

automated so you shouldn't need any outside help.  Make up a list 

and we'll get you the parts you need.  You'll also have a fund for 

any other expenses.  Here's a cell phone to contact us with.  You 

must understand that this experiment might tarnish the reputation 

of Ishiyama so must be conducted with absolute secrecy."

     Nayoko nodded seriously as she accepted the cell phone.  

"Don't worry, I don't know anyone to tell this to anyway.  I should 

have a complete list for the first model by sometime tonight so I 

can start early in the morning.  Can even make regular status 

reports if you like."

     "Excellent, I shall leave you to your planning then.  I will 

look forward to your results in a week," Michiko said as she 

mentally gathered herself up and made to leave.

     "There's just one more thing," Nayoko said suddenly, 

halting the other woman's progress.

     "And that is?" Michiko asked with a brittle smile, currently 

feeling the need for at least a dozen baths.

     Nayoko eyes roamed all over the other woman's supple 

figure.  "You're really cute.  Could you spank me when I'm bad?  

It'll really encourage me.  I've even got my own paddle."

     Michiko had never run that fast in her life before, and 

prayed she would never have a reason to again.



     Junko and Kozo were currently sitting around the latter's 

musty attic as he dug around in various boxes until he had pulled 

out a old wooden box with a odd-looking carving of the sun on top.

     He sat with this in his lap as he explained to his niece, 

"First of all, I know this is going to be hard for you to accept, but 

your parents haven't actually gone to America.  Like your 

grandparents before them..."

     He trailed off in shock when Junko began to cry.  He hadn't 

expected her to take the news this hard, especially when he hadn't 

gotten to the hard to accept bit yet.  "Why are you crying?"

     "I know what a euphemism is!" Junko shouted at him as 

she continued to bawl.  "You're saying my parents are dead!"

     "No, they're not dead!" Kozo quickly reassured her.  

"They're just space aliens.  Well, your father is, your mother just 

went along with him.  He had to go back to our home planet..."

     Kozo stopped this time because Junko was currently 

glaring at him, a glare that was much too effective for a twelve 

year old girl.  "That's not funny," she told him in a flat tone.

     "I know is sounds impossible, but it really is the truth.  

Your grandparents came to Earth as tourists and decided to stay for 

a while.  Your father and I grew up here as a result and came to 

love the Earth, each for our own reasons."

     *This is almost as bad as when she thought I was a 

pervert,* Kozo thought with a frown to see that his words were 

having no effect on softening her glare.

     "Look, I can prove it!" Kozo shouted in near desperation, 

shaking the box a bit for emphasis.  "Your grandparents were 

special even amongst our own people.  One of the benefits of this 

was a great power that has been passed down through the females 

of our line for generations.  That is why your grandmother wanted 

you to have this."

     Junko continued to glare at the uncle who she had once 

thought of as her friend, but was turning out to have bad taste and a 

sick sense of humor.  The glare faded to surprise when she finally 

looked down to see what rested in the box that he had just opened.  

It was an elegant gold armband covered in intricate carvings, 

mostly abstract though some seemed to resemble fire.  She reached 

out to touch it, but managed to stop herself.

     "Go ahead, take it," her uncle encouraged her.  "It belongs 

to you now."

     With a small nod, Junko reached out and slowly picked up 

the armband, watching its designs shine brightly even in the feeble 

light. It felt warm to the touch, like something alive, but it was 

more than that.  She felt something stirring inside, as if beginning 

to awaken.  Her hands were shaking as she slipped it onto her right 

arm, sliding it to her upper arm, surprised that it was a perfect fit.  

She released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

     There was a mirror up in the attic.  Junko now stood before 

it, twirling around to see how the armband looked from every 

angle.  She hated all cute things, but this was more than that, this 

was elegant, refined, and certainly one of a kind, making it one 

thing that Emi would never have.  Wondering how it would look 

on her other arm, Junko tugged at it, but it refused to budge even a 

fraction of a centimeter.

     "It's stuck," Junko told her uncle as she continued to pull at 

the armband, but having as much success as before.

     "It has acclimated itself to you now," Kozo informed her.  

"You won't be able to take it off until after the birth of your first 

child like your grandmother before you."

     "What?!" Junko bellowed, her voice amplified by ten as she 

stomped over to her uncle and reared back her fist.  Something 

unexpected happened before she could throw that punch, however.  

Golden strands of fire leapt from the armband to wrap around her, 

forming a shimmering cocoon.  A moment later, the cocoon burst 

with a small explosion, the strands fading to reveal Junko now 

completely transformed.

     Her new pointed red boots floated about a foot off the 

ground.  These came with matching long red gloves, which were 

offset by her now golden skin, and her hair shimmered with the 

colors of an open flame.  Her clothes had been replaced by a set of 

stylish armor of red, yellow, orange, and white, ending with an 

embarrassingly short skirt.  Even her face was changed; softer, 

more rounded, with red lips and yellow, almond-shaped eyes.  

     "Kawaii!!" Kozo shouted at the sight before him, crying 

tears of joy.  He had never been so close to such a paragon of cute 

before.  It was like seeing Emi-chan for the first time all over 

again.  This was the one of the greatest moments in his life.

     With a growl, the newly transformed Junko completed her 

earlier punch and sent her uncle right through a wall.  She blinked, 

looking at her hands in disbelief.  *Did I do that?*

     Junko looked over her new appearance in the mirror.  She 

wasn't sure how or why it happened, but she hated the sight of her 

new 'cute' self, which resembled her old self in only the vaguest 

way.  It was everything she have been striving against her entire 

life. On the other hand, if it made her that strong, it might not be so 

bad after all.



***



Project Kawaii Character List:



The Ishiyamas

Emi - the ultra-cute daughter.

Michiko - her mother, co-president of Ishiyama Heavy Industries.

Ryuji - her father, co-president of Ishiyama Heavy Industries.



The ninja clan

Atsuko - the teenager who seems to dislike Emi

Tamiko - the mother who adores Emi

Yoji - the son about Emi's age who apparently has a crush on her.

Ichiro  - father of Tamiko, former tutor to Emi

? - a very humble man, Tamiko's husband, father of Atsuko and 

Yoji.



Everyone else

Junko Kitaue - forced into being Emi's new best friend.

Kozo Kitaue - Junko's uncle and Emi fanboy

Nayoko Yokozaki - insane scientist in charge of building giant 

robots.

Shoko Matsuno - Emi, Junko, and Yoji's homeroom teacher.


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