Here's something I've been working on lately (obsessed with lately, 
actually).
I'm actually almost finished with the first draft of the complete story, 
but am
not satisfied with various aspects of it.  I thought I would solicit 
comment on
my characters, however, as well as the way I introduce them.

Any and all comments eagerly solicited!


"Improvisational Justice Team Anobashi!"
    The Preludes

    A story by HKMiller
    30 June - 18 August 2003

Copyright (c) HKMiller.  This story may be freely copied as
long as no changes are made and this copyright notice is
unaltered.

- - - - - - - - - -
Otsuge Gin rose from her futon quietly and without fuss, preparing
for her first day of high school.  Her half-sister, whom she'd
never met, would be at the same high school, she knew, and in the
same home-room.  They might meet face-to-face today.  Her mouth
muscles struggled with the unaccustomed task of attempting a
brief, slight smile of anticipation.

Gin combed her short hair and carefully put on her school uniform
(purchased used from the school last week), unadorned with any
non-regulation additions.  As she left the bedroom she shared
with her mother, she spared not a glance for the mirror in which
her short, thin, pale form was reflected.

Her mother was already in the small apartment's kitchen, just
finishing breakfast and well started on the sake.  "G' mornin',
Gin," she slurred.

Gin thought about their rice supply.  Five more days if she ate
sparingly, and she did not know when her mother would find another
job.  She prepared herself a little rice and ate quickly.  Neither
woman spoke until Gin's mother despairingly cried out, "Why didn't
Tenshin ever come back to me?  Gin, d'you think your father's
still alive?"

Gin replied automatically, "Father is still very much alive.  I
do not know why he has not returned to us."  Though I could guess,
Gin carefully did not add.  While there was much she did not know
about her father, she did know that human concepts of the passage
of time meant very little to him.

As usual, her mother paid no attention to her answer.

- - - - - - - - - -
Bushido Midori wiped the sweat from her face with a towel
following her morning workout.  An even dozen hired sparring
partners lay unconscious at her feet, as did their shattered
or scattered weaponry:  bokkens, nunchakus, sai, shuriken.  Her
parents, over by the dojo wall, checked their stopwatch, then
looked up.  As usual, her mother put on her "good parent" face.
"Midori, dear, you beat your best time by two tenths of a second.
Congratulations!  I'm so happy with your progress, especially now
that you're beginning high school."

Her father frowned his "bad parent" frown.  "The girl still has a
long ways to go."

Midori turned towards her parents and squared her shoulders,
anticipating an argument.  "And can I join a club or something,
now that I'm in high school?  Or do something after school with
friends, if I make some?  Or do I still have to come straight home
after school every day for training?"

Her mother looked at her father.  "The school does have a martial
arts club, dear..."

"...which won't have any members Midori couldn't beat blind-folded
while tied down to a chair.  No!  Her training needs to continue!"

"Maybe if she makes some friends likely to get her into scrapes?"

"Hmmm... a sukeban gang?  A little time spent street-fighting
right after school might be good for her, at that."  Her father
judiciously rubbed his jaw.  "Force her out of predictable
patterns, never knowing what weapons her adversaries might have.
Maybe face some new weapons."

"And if she comes home after dark, she might have the opportunity
to encounter a mugger or rapist," her mother added in an
encouraging tone.

"Little chance any of those would provide with her any contest,
though."  Her father briefly rubbed his chin, then continued.
"Right.  Good idea.  Midori, no clubs, but if you can make some
juvenile delinquent friends, we'll allow you to stay after school
for two or three nights a week."

Midori nodded, turned, and left, careful to show no sign of how
surprised and pleased she was.  Maybe she could actually start to
have a normal teenage life!

- - - - - - - - - -
Odoke Naoko hid her grin with her teacup.  Her mother, Yoiko, was
staring at "page three" of the morning newspaper in horror.  It
looked like the fake page Naoko had inserted was holding up to
initial inspection.

Yoiko turned to Naoko, still distraught.  "Did you see this?
About the asteroid hitting Yokohama?  All our relatives are...
Naoko!  How could you do this to me?!"  She threw the fake page
down in disgust.

Naoko's grin faded.  She still couldn't keep a straight face
around her mother long enough to pull off any really good gags,
unfortunately.  She put on her "contrite" face and looked up at
her mother.  "I'm sorry, Mom.  It's just that I finally got ahold
of some real newsprint and ink, and I just had to try it out.  I
guess I didn't think about how you'd feel."  Naoko hung her
shoulders and looked down, counting off the seconds she need to
hold this pose to get her mother to forgive her.

"Naoko, Naoko, my dear."  Her mother walked forward and hugged
her.  "You have to stop doing this.  Nobody doubts that you're as
smart as they come; do you always have to prove it by pulling
pranks like this?  Causing your mother such distress?  Why don't
you put those smarts to good use, like your father always did?"

"You do enough of that for both of us, Mother," Naoko replied,
sweeping one arm around to indicate what she meant.  As usual,
Naoko and her mother breakfasted downstairs, at the coffee counter
of her mother's "Internet Coffee and International Book Shoppe".
Cozy armchairs and stuffed bookcases covered the front half of
the floor, while the back half held the coffee shop and computers.
The notice board to one side of the counter was full of ads for
do-gooder volunteer organizations and causes, many began and run
by her mother:  Japanese Against Whaling (JAW); Stop Paving Our
Rivers and Streams (SPORS); Japanese Press Freedom League (JPFL).

"No!  There's no such thing as 'enough'.  I've seen what this
world can be, and it's so much better than it is today.  And it's
not going to change for the better unless people stand up and
make those changes themselves!"  Yoiko's eyes flashed as she
spoke.

Inwardly, Naoko rolled her eyes.  Best not get Mother started on
all she'd seen during the two years she'd spent traveling and
adventuring with Naoko's father.  Naoko never knew how much of it
to believe; the stories were so preposterous, but her mother had
to have obtained some of her skills SOMEWHERE.  And then there
were those two unearthly gadgets hidden away in her bedroom closet
which she thought Naoko didn't know about.

After breakfast, Naoko gave her hair one more good brushing.  One
thing her father had bequeathed to her that she didn't care for
was her curly hair.  She smiled at herself in the mirror, her
impish face lighting up in almost sinister amusement.  She'd
already researched most of her new classmates, and she had a
very good idea of just who would provide her the most amusement.
It had taken very little effort to "arrange" for the most likely
candidates to be in same homeroom with her.

- - - - - - - - - -
Fumetsu Hisa lifted the boiling teapot from the stove, and turned
towards the table.

"Hisa!  What are you DOING?" Her mother screamed.

Hisa blinked, then looked down.  Oops; she'd forgotten to check
the temperature of the teapot before grabbing it by the metal
handle on the side.

Her mother snatched the teapot away from Hisa and hastily put it
back on the stove, wincing as she did so.  "Are you hurt?  Did you
burn yourself?  You can't keep forgetting what the doctor said,
Hisa!"

Hisa sighed and duly spread her hand out, palm up, for her
mother's inspection.  Her mother poked and prodded at her fingers
and palm, looking for any signs of a burn, as she continued
talking.  "Hisa, you HAVE to be careful.  Without a normal
person's sense of pain, you can seriously hurt yourself without
noticing.  You've been very lucky so far, but you have to stay
aware of your surroundings and what you're doing."  Her mother
heaved a sigh of relief, then closed Hisa's hand and patted it
gently.  "But it looks like you're lucky again this time; I see no
signs of a burn.  The teapot must have been cooler than I
thought."

Hisa throttled her disgruntlement and smiled sheepishly at her
mother.  "Thanks, Mom.  For taking care of me, I mean."

"Now you be sure to tell your new friends all about your handicap,
Hisa, first thing if possible.  They'll need to look out for you
at school."

Hisa left for school with her sisters, thinking strongly that
that was one thing she was certainly NOT going to do.  She had a
gift, not a handicap.  She'd be worried about ending up in a
laboratory if she thought anybody would ever notice.  But nobody
ever did notice and nobody ever believed her if she tried to tell
them about it.  Her friend Akiko certainly never had, Hisa
thought, as a smile appeared on her face at the thought of seeing
her friend again.

- - - - - - - - - -
Seigino Akiko posed before her full-length mirror, examining her
uniform with a critical eye: the traditional seifuku, whose
hemline she'd carefully raised to the limit she thought she could
get away with (a precaution in case she needed to move fast).
Underneath she wore a pair of bicycling shorts, just in case of
perverts.  She would bring them to justice, of course, should she
encounter any, but in the meantime she didn't want them catching a
glimpse of her panties.  Boys her age tended to act really
perverted around her, she reflected sourly, but seldom stuck
around to become friends.  She surveyed her shelf of plastic
communicators and henshin wands with a sigh; somehow, carrying
those toys around didn't seem so attractive now that she was in
high school.  She would wear the twin glittering hair pins,
though.

Making a final check of her backpack (magnifying glass, check;
fingerprint kit, check), Akiko bounced out of her room, only to
find that her little brother had been peering through the
keyhole.

She stabbed a denunciatory finger at the little monster.  "Midget
fiends who spy on their older sisters shall answer to ME!  Prepare
to be walloped!"

Her little brother stuck his tongue and lower eyelid out at
Akiko, then turned and quickly dashed down the stairs.  Akiko
pursued him into the kitchen, where her mother was just
finishing putting breakfast on the table.

"Honestly, Akiko.  You're in high school now.  Don't chase your
little brother like that.  He's almost big enough to fight back,
you know."

"Youkai, your mother's right," Akiko's father said, looking up
from his newspaper.  "Boys your age shouldn't be running away
from their sisters, even if they are older."

"Sis does know judo 'n stuff," Youkai pleaded, in between hasty
gulps of breakfast.

"I'm sure Akiko wasn't in that horrible class long enough to learn
anything so unladylike," her mother replied primly.  "Isn't that
right, Akiko, dear," she continued, giving Akiko a meaningful
stare.

"Sure, Mom!" Akiko replied quickly, thinking inwardly that her
parents had sure better never find out about the karate she was
studying now.  Champions of justice needed to know this stuff,
she was quite sure, but her parents never seemed to see things the
same way she did.




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