Author: Creepy Mae West Kozi PM
He was used to being helpless. He was used to being judged. He was used to being a laughing stock. He missed it, sometimes. Oneshot response to poll. Kotaro and Random thug.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Angst - Words: 434 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 3 - Published: 09-05-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6300815
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author: Creepy Mae West Kozi
Disclaimer: No money is being made. Samurai High School and its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: He was used to being helpless. He was used to being judged. He was used to being a laughing stock. He missed it, sometimes. [Oneshot response to poll. Kotaro and Random thug.]
Notes: Samurai High School is a fantastic j-drama. You can watch it on DramaCrazy.
Before he had set foot in the library/museum with the strange ninja-lady...before he had become possessed by his samurai ancestor...Mochizuki Kotaro had always been helpless.
Helpless against bullies. Helpless against homework. Helpless in the face of seriousness. He was a clown. He couldn't help it. He was thin, weak, and had hair like an old broom-head. He was afraid to get hurt, afraid to stand up for himself, and afraid of thinking about girls and emotions at the same time.
And then he read a historical manuscript. A journal written by an ancestor who had shared the same name as him. An ancestor who was strong and brave, noble and benevolent. A version of all he wished he could be, but know he never would.
And he was helpless against this version of himself. Shunted to the side in his own head, afraid and helpless against the consequences of his samurai-self's actions.
He was used to being helpless. He was used to being laughed at.
But suddenly he was admired by the shy. The bullied flocked to him. And the students he had been so helpless against in the past...the ones who had beaten him both with their words and their fists...now backed away in fear and wariness.
And a he saw the confusion and helplessness in their eyes and saw himself in them and them in himself. In that way, he was still helpless against them.
He almost missed being his old self.
He missed being a clown instead of a hero.
He missed being able to not fight, to stand back.
But he was helpless in the tides of change. And he could no longer stand aside no matter how much he wanted to.
And that's why, when walking home from school he pushed his other-self to the fore to protect his friends from a drunken thug and allowed himself to be pushed to the back of his consciousness as his samurai-self demolished the mugger with lightning-fast strikes of a plastic ruler.
For his friends, he could try to be a little less helpless.