[Yay! It's been resurrected! Hey Matt, long time no see, eh?]
Private and public C&C is welcomed with open arms, and is kindly
requested. I'd really love to know what you think of this.
[Cool. Snippage throughout...]
<snip intro>
Eight Years Ago.
The bottom of the sixth and final inning was not one for Room 2-B
to cheer about. They had been down a run since the top of the
fourth when Takeo Akita hit a solo home run for the rival team
from 1-A. The rest of the game had seen the 2-B batting order go
down in flames as 1-A's ace pitcher Satoru Nobata struck out three
straight in a perfect inning.
[<taps chin> Hmmm, Satoru, sounds familiar... I don't remember
if it's this story or another...]
The first two batters of the sixth inning were 2-B's best
hope for a home run. Katsu and Masao Sugimoto were cousins, but
they may as well have been brothers. They had the same style, the
same confidence, and the same skill. Girls who watched the weekly
games between the two rooms picked between the two handsome
youths, often arguing over who was the better player, and who
would be the better one to date. They never disagreed, though,
that either one would be a dream to have as their boyfriend.
[That last sentence didn't come out right. You make it sound like
they really want to go out with each other....]
"Strike Three!" Katsu had just struck out. Dejectedly, he
tossed his bat to the side, where a young girl picked it up to
give to Masao.
<snip>
"For what it's worth," he stated as he passed the boy, "I
thought it was inside too. But you take what you get, right?"
Kenji nodded stiffly and looked out where he had seen Tanako.
She was still there, standing now, her eyes sparkling. Her hand
went to her heart slowly, then fell as she turned her gaze
painfully away.
"That pitch was way inside," the voice from the dugout
repeated. It was Ichiro, the new kid from across town. The boy
pushed up his glasses and grinned. "Maybe the ole' ump coulda
used a pair like mine today."
Kenji laughed despite himself, the pain of the day's loss
fading ever-so-slightly.
[I kinda liked how you portrayed both the pitcher and Masao. Very
balanced and not heavy on the antogonistic characterization.
Nice.]
Monday, April 19th
3:23 PM
<snip>
Kenji shuddered. He was in high school, and a senior no
less. Only grade-schoolers and delinquents got a 'Please See Me'.
He wanted to scream; his hands were already shaking; he could feel
the sweat forming on his brow, cold and dank, breathing the stress
from his body not nearly as fast as it built within him.
[You sure you want to have two semi-colons in one sentence?
Looks rather, I don't know, incomplete like that.]
For less
than an instant, a formless crimson thought pressed against his
temples, whispering violence. But he held himself back a moment to
collect evidence in defense of his work.
"This isn't a bad paper," he muttered as he began reading his
work. "Maybe a little forced here and there, but..." He stared
at his words, and the anger dissipated quickly, only to be
replaced with disappointment. Looking again at the blood-colored
mark, he shook his head in reluctant defeat.
[Boy, did you take the same political science class with me as well?
I've found myself muttering those same words with every essay
I got back... <grin>]
<snip>
"Why are you grinning like that?"
"Oh, just happy, I guess."
Kenji played along, though less enthusiastically than on
other days. "And why are you happy today?"
"You know, it's a funny thing, that. Happiness can take so
many forms."
["Like?"
"Well, when you wear someone's face like a mask while doing a
little kooky dance."
"That's not happiness, Ichiro."
"Then what is it?"
"Psycho."
"Ah, you know me. I get those two confused all the time. Hehehehehe."
"Yeah. Hee. Hee. Hee. Now get away from me...."]
<snip>
Ichiro announced his source of happiness with little concern.
"I got an eighty." The grin widened, betraying his indifferent
tone. "I guess Mr. Motojima really does like Star Wars after
all."
[I can see it now, My Disertation of Why Han Solo and
Princess Leia Are an Incompatiable Couple.]
<snip>
"What did you get?"
"As long as it reaches its audience, that's all that counts."
"What did you get?"
"I think that, in time, this story will be looked upon
favorably."
["It sucked, right?"
"No, sucked is such a crude word."
"Reeked? Crappy? I wouldn't even wipe my ass with the paper its written
on, give me a clue here..."]
<snip>
"Kenji got a 'Please See Me'?" The class gasped in unison,
and immediately set into a blaze of wild chatter, involving
failure and burning out and careers dead before they started.
[Ya know, you make it sound so... cheerful.]
<snip>
"I did better than Kenji. I did better than Kenji."
"Ichiro?"
"Yeah, buddy?"
"I'm your best friend, right?"
"Yep."
"This is a well-established fact, correct?"
"Correct."
"Then, why are you so happy about my... grade?"
Ichiro paused to inhale loudly, his incredulous smile never
leaving him. "Because, my down-trodden companion, my superior
mental acumen has finally won the day. With your literary demise,
I can now seize the power I've always wished to hold, but never
thought possible before. You see, your failure and my subsequent
success has taught me that, well, miracles can happen, and one
such miracle has happened to me."
"How long have you been working on that speech?"
"Not too terribly long, why?"
"No reason."
[Ha! I just love the dialog between these guys.]
<snip>
Kenji wanted to agree verbally, but all he could manage was a
crooked smile and a stiff nod. The smile remained well after
Tanako had left.
"So cute..."
"Don't get a big head," Ichiro muttered in Kenji's ear.
["Um, too late."
"Ah, that's gross, maannn. You're not borrowing my pants again."
"Come on little buddy..."]
<snip>
Finally, and without warning, the teacher spoke. His voice
was like gravel pouring into Kenji's head, but it was almost as
comforting as Tanako's bell-voice after the stifling lack of
sound.
[I must say that you've done a good job with you metaphors and
imagery throughout all of this.]
<snip>
"You need to get in touch with your muse. Do you know how to
do that?"
"My muse?"
"I know some people would denounce the notion, but I have
evidence to refute them. Now," he looked at Kenji with hawk-eyes.
"Have you gotten in touch with your muse lately?"
"No sir."
["Why not?"
"Well, isn't it illegal in 7 states?"
"We're in Japan, Kenji."
"Oh."]
<snip>
"Yes. A good hour or two. Really sleep it off." He smiled
kindly, the wrinkles around his eyes nearly pinching them shut.
"When you wake up, your muse will be awakened, and you'll be
inspired."
"Really?"
"Of course. It worked for me thirty years ago. Things don't
change much with inspiration, son. It's all pretty much
universal."
[I really, really could do a bad commercial spoof, but for your sake
I won't. <grin>]
<snip>
Sleep came surprisingly easy. The ambiance of the suburb
faded from his mind, rolling in and out of his awareness as he
drifted further from the lighthouse, and deeper into a calm and
liquid dream. It took only a few minutes, but by then, Kenji's
slumbering brain had shed the concept of time.
[Now earlier I said you did a nice job with the imagery, here it
goes a little *too* far. This paragraph suffers slightly since so
many images are introduced at once, which will confuse the
reader, like it did to me at first. I had to read it three times to
realize what the idea was.]
Fog dominated his view, obscuring the trees, muffling the birds
and crickets. It stuck to his skin like it was trying to possess
him. He shivered, and walked inexplicably forward; he knew only
that something was ahead.
And so he walked. He noticed the fog ahead grow lighter, and
saw what he knew must be the light of sunset dissipate from the
horizon.
[Wouldn't that be growing lighter?]
The sound of rushing water brought him from his distant
gaze, and he noticed at last he was on a bridge, carved from the
ground itself; the water below moved with purpose, though as he
watched it, pausing for a second, he could barely find the
surface.
'But it sounded so close,' Kenji thought. he stayed a moment
longer before, drawn again by the mysterious wanderlust, he
resumed his walk.
[Cap he and that sentence is a fragment I believe...]
Through the thick air, Kenji could discerns the faintest of
shapes, curves moving seamlessly from the ground to the sky.
[Unless this is some subtle grammar rule here, I think that's
discern.]
<snip>
"Don't be afraid," the voice ahead whispered. Even through
meters of fog, the silhouette appearing before him sounded as
clear as someone only a step away. "Tell the fog to lift, and it
will."
"What?" Kenji shook his head. "What are you talking about?"
"Tell the fog to lift." The voice was young, yet peaceful
and mature.
"I don't think that I--"
"--Tell the fog to lift." The voice was still young, but now
neither peaceful nor mature.
"But--"
"--It won't work if you don't tell it, okay?" The voice had
fallen to an exasperated growl.
[Heh. I love this boy's muse...]
<snip>
And then he saw the girl.
Kenji had assumed he would be looking at Tanako. He was
almost right. She looked a little like her, only her hair was
red, short, wavy, and she was a little shorter. And her skin was
a little darker. And her voice wasn't as melodic.
When Kenji realized that the girl actually looked nothing
like Tanako, he felt suddenly disappointed. "Maybe I should have
written her name," he muttered.
[Heh. I couldn't have done better myself.]
<snip>
A tiny waking sigh alerted him that his cloak was more lucid
than dream. A petite arm lifted itself from his shoulders briefly
entering his wide-eyed view, disappearing behind him.
Movement became suddenly difficult for Kenji, but he managed
to wiggle himself off the bed, and successfully fell face-first to
the carpeted floor. As he spat out bits of lint, he peeked up
over the edge of the bed.
"Good morning," she whispered.
She lay there, the girl from his dream, half-asleep, her eyes
glittering as she opened them. Her mouth curled perfectly into a
smile, and she lifted her petite arm again to brush her disheveled
red hair from her forehead.
"You're... oh boy." Kenji gulped for air and sane recourse.
"You're my..."
"Caravan."
"Yeah, you're my Cara... huh?"
"That's my name. Caravan."
["Wha?"
"You should know it by now. I mean it wasn't like you screamed it enough times."
"WHAT!?"
"Heh, just kidding."]
<snip>
"Then I've finally done it."
"Done what?"
"I've taken a dive off the deep end."
"Cliche."
"What?"
"You should avoid cliches like the plague," she recited
solemnly.
"Oh, very funny," Kenji grumbled. "Well then, how's 'I've
lost my mind' sound?"
Caravan wrinkled her nose. "Blech. Too bland."
Kenji stood up. "Well then, what would you suggest, o great
goddess of inspirationness?" He leaned on his desk and crossed
his arms. "I'm waiting."
"Let's see. You've lost your mind, eh?" She closed her
eyes, humming so softly, Kenji wasn't sure he really heard her.
When she opened her eyes, she suggested, "How about, 'Reality and
I are now at irreconcilable odds'?"
Kenji frowned. "Not bad. A little wordy, though."
"Okay then, how about this?" She thrashed wildly under the
sheets, and screeched, "My head! Oh, my head... Look at the
shapes! Aren't they beautiful? My brain!"
[People, if you ever what a simulation of what getting C&C from Matt
Johnston is like, look no further than this... <grin>]
<snip>
"Thanks. How do you want to be inspired?"
["Hmm, how about an Influence Filet with Cheese and a large glass
of Motivation."
"Would you liked that Energized?"
"Why, yes."
"Your total is $5.75, please drive up to the next window."]
<snip>
"Then why do I have this writer's block?"
"Oh boy," she muttered as she read his folded paper. "You
really do need my help."
"Yes," Kenji started. "Yes I do. But, why do I need your
help? Where were you a month ago? How about a week ago, when I
had to write that C-minus paper I got back today? Where were you
then?" Kenji's voice rose quickly, his fists balled. Before he
knew it, he was standing over Caravan, growling, ready to yell at
any answer she could give.
[Hmmm, that whole sequence is too sudden in my opinion and I seem
to remember pointing that out last time. You gave me some explaination
which escapes me... Anyway, I still don't feel comfortable with it.]
<snip>
"Tanako's what?" Caravan whispered as they descended the
stairs.
"Never mind," Kenji muttered.
[Ummm, no. I'm not making that joke again. <grin>]
<snip>
"Oh, you've brought a friend to dinner!" Kenji's mother
sounded a little too pleased as Kenji and Caravan entered the
dining room.
["And she's not wearing a bra! Ahhhhh."
"Um, Mom?"
"Hey, can I borrow one of yours?"
"Sure honey, I have a lace one that the boys seem to like."
"MOM!"]
<snip>
"Aww, Mom. Not the Hokkaido story again."
Caravan shot Kenji a withering look, but Kenji's mother
simply laughed. "It's true. He's heard it a number of times. I
always seem to tell it when he has company over."
"Now you know why I never bring people for dinner." Kenji's
remark earned him another glare from Caravan.
[*WHACK!*
"Owwwww..."]
"I guess I'm just trying to show off for my son. He thinks
it's embarrassing though. I don't blame him."
"Mrs. Terada, I'd love to hear the story."
"Why, thank you, dear. You're so kind to humor an old
woman."
"Not at all," the girl grinned. "I like listening to
stories."
[BTW, what was that story about?]
<snip>
Caravan shook her head. "You weren't this surly when you got
the idea for 'The Case of the Crafty Cat'."
"That was in third grade."
"I always liked that one," she reminisced. "You wrote the
cat so... well, crafty."
"Yeah, well," Kenji sighed. "The Crafty Cat just isn't
enough anymore."
"I know." Caravan sat up on the edge of the bed. "You want
better than that, don't you?"
"Of course I do. I should want better than that. I am
better than that."
[This is another reason I like this story, it really speaks to me, specificly
in regards to how I view my own writing. I wish other fanfic writers would
take their writing seriously as well... *sigh*]
<snip>
Kenji opened his mouth to speak, but let whatever words he
was thinking fall silent. he smiled faintly.
[Cap he.]
<snip>
"I'm a muse. I give you an idea, and you implement it. It's
how this whole thing is supposed to work, you know."
["Yeah, but at what price?"
"Your soul."
"What?"
"Er, I mean your soles. We muses are wild about shoes. Hehehehe."
"Uh, yeah."]
<snip>
"Oh dear, " she commented with polite disappointment. "Your
friend has left."
"What?" Kenji whipped around. Indeed, Caravan was gone.
"She was such a nice girl," Kenji's mother commented.
"You'll have to invite her over again some time."
["God knows we need to continue the Terada blood line."
"Moooommmmm...."]
* * * *
Kenji spent a full glass of milk and five cookies deep in thought.
"What else could she be?" he mused between chocolate-chipped
bites.
[Shouldn't you cap he? Or am I wrong in that assumption?]
"She appeared from out of nowhere. And she left just like
that, too." He dipped his last cookie in Caravan's untouched
glass, and let it soak.
[I hate to say this Kenji, but that doesn't necessarily make her
a muse. I mean she could have been a ghost or even a one
night stand...]
<snip>
"You woulda been the hero. And then Tanako woulda seen."
Kenji inhaled sharply. "But I wasn't," he whispered to the
disembodied voice.
"That's okay. I believe in you."
Tears welled up slowly. "Mi... Miko?"
[Oooo, suspense. I love suspense. <wink>]
Kenji awoke at his desk, to the resonating click of his
mother closing the door behind her. The tray of cookies and milk
were gone; the clock read 1:12.
"I gotta get some sleep," he commented as he tossed a couple
of drool-covered pages into the garbage. He smiled; luckily, they
were blank. "I'm starting to go crazy. Isn't that right, Miko?"
The room gave no reply.
"So much for imaginary friends," he chuckled. Kenji
undressed slowly, and climbed into bed.
[Uh, there's one word fer ya, and tell me if it has any meaning to you,
loony. Freakin' loony. <grin>]
------------------------------------------------------------------
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Welcome back to "It's a Rainy Day, Sunshine Girl". Hopefully,
some of you reading today are new to the series, and some are old
friends returning. Those of you who have read the series I'd
posted before, I hope you noticed all the new bits I added to the
story. Finally, the story is coming into focus. Those of you who
haven't read this story before, I hope you're enjoying what you're
reading. I think you might just be in for a treat.
[Yes, it's nice to know that you brought this out of retirement.
I really enjoyed this the second time around will continue to
as you move along with the series.
Anyway, maybe I should talk about the story itself. <grin>
The story is great and good quality, what I'd expect from
Matt. Since I have given this very intense C&C in the past
there isn't much more I can really say outside the fact that
I think Kenji is a little too quick to lose his temper with
Caravan, since there really isn't any indication that he would
early on in this part. As for the characters, at least the ones
introduced thus far, I like em. Folks, there is a good reason
Caravan was nominated for Best New Character. And not because
of fan service... <grin>
There were little errors here and there, but nothing bad. And the
dialog really does a nice job of supporting the characterization,
a talent which I wished I had. Great job of imagery, with that
one exception of when Kenji takes his nap, that went a little
overboard.
Hmmm, that's it. Now, hurry up with that next part will ya Matt?
<grin>
Nice to see you again, amigo.]
Bastion