Disclaimer : I wish I owned Wild Adapter. I'd even settle for EC. But I don't. They belong to Minekura.
Summary : Post-WA, Stream of consciousness Tokito piece.
Warnings : Character death, Angst, stuff like that.
Comments : This takes place after all of Wild Adapter. The basic assumption is that Kubota is dead. Minekura's made it obvious that it's gonna happen, that Kubo- chan will die before Tokito, and this story does reflect my theories of 'how'. It's strea m of consciousness, and you all get to ride along in Tokito's thoughts, one Sunday about a month after Kubota dies. The song that inspired this story is Gloomy Sunday, and kudos and plushies go to K.Firefly for introducing me to that song.
And before you all ask, yes, I'll get to work again on Mirai. I'm slowly getting rid of the evil Writers Block. Didn't I warn you that it sucked? I apologize for the delay.
Next Stop, Akihabara.... Next Stop, Akihabara...
Shut up. Like we didn't already know. Why else would we be crowding around the door?
Stupid OL. Move. If you can't walk in those heels, why the hell did you wear them? Damn old foggie to my right won't budge either. There, an opening. God I hate crowds.
It's bright out. No rain this afternoon. The streets are crowded also, but at least it's moving. I should have ditched school yesterday. Everyone would have been at work, and I could have run to the store if I wanted to. School's stupid anyhow. Otchan says I gotta go, that it's good for me, but I don't know about that. I don't learn nothing that helps me. Like I want to become a salary man or some shit. Like I really care to go to Toudai.
There's a crowd at the store. I hate crowds. People milling about like beetles. Or ants. I really should have just ditched school yesterday and gotten it. Instead I decided to come today, on Sunday, shop with the crowds. Not only that, I couldn't sleep well last night, thinking about the new game. They're probably already sold out. That would piss me off.
Here we go. They still have a few copies. Well, one less now. This one's mine. Now I just gotta stand in the stupid line and pay that dork behind the counter for it. Guess I'll read the back while I wait. It's an RPG. I knew that. I don't like RPGs very much. Too much thinking, I much prefer shooting things, or fighting games. But he would have liked it. At home the first three in this series are in the cabinet. He would have gone out last night after school and got it. Or had it delivered. It would have been on pre-order. But instead I had to come pick it up myself. Maybe when I get back to the apartment I'll open it up, throw it in the PS2, and try it. I could order pizza, something without pineapple on it, and drink beer all night as I play it.
I'm hungry. Here, Dork, take this money. Hurry up with th a t bag. I don't care if the package looks all neat and tidy. It's gonna be shoved in my pocket anyhow, and the paper of the bag will rip. Who cares what it looks like? It's what's inside that's important.
Back out on the street. Still crowded. Maybe before I catch the subway back to the apartment I'll get something to eat. Otherwise I'll have to wait until I get home, and that'll take a good hour, hour and a half. I think there was a noodle place down this way. Kubo-chan took me there once. It was ok. It wasn't very expensive either. Kubo-chan said the curry soba tasted good. I made fun of him, we always ate curry. What's the point in going out to eat and getting more of the same?
Yep. It's still there. And it's empty, wonder of all wonders. Don't look at me strangely, waitress, I know I'm alone. That doesn't mean I'm lonely. I have lots of friends, I just want to eat something, go back home, and play this new game. Just bring me my food. Don't bat your eyes at me, I know I'm God's gift to women. You don't interest me.
I don't know what's so special about it. Doesn't taste any different than the stuff Kubo-chan used to make. Curry is curry, I'm sick of curry. Why the hell did I order this? It doesn't taste any different than it did a month ago, back before Kubo-chan....
Why the fuck did Kubo-chan have to go there that night, anyhow? I was perfectly fine, I would have gotten away and come back home. Once I had woken up, I would have kicked their asses, left that building, and been on the next train home. That Sanada guy, I would have rearranged his face easily. His brains would look like these soba noodles, all mixed up and slimy. Then, when Kubo-chan had arrived he would have found me standing there, all of the bastards in the building hurt or dead, and we could have just gone home. Stupid drug. I couldn't move. I could hardly breathe. When Kubo-chan had shown up, I could have said something, like "Let's go home" or "Stop it, they're not worth it."
Here, waitress. Yeah, the curry soba was fine. Take my money. I don't want anymore. I gotta go home, I have a game to play. I can stay up all night, and play this game, and then tomorrow after school I can play more. I bet I can finish it in a week. That's what I'll do, I'll stay up late tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after, until I finish this game. Then when I've beat it I'll put it with the others, and I can laugh at the designers because it was so easy that even I could beat it. I don't even like RPGs. Maybe I'll beat the other ones, too. Then when those are beat, I'll boot up the dusty computer and beat that stupid mahjong game, the one that Kubo-chan bought and played for half an hour before he said it was too easy, that the computer was too predictable. Then I can go down to that mahjong place, that Izumo...
It really pisses me off. I couldn't move. I couldn't tell him I was all right. He must have thought I was dead. He was so mad. I've never seen him that mad, even when I dropped his cup. Even when I tried to help Saori and got my neck cut by that fag boy Sekiya or whatever his name was. Then he had fired, bang bang bang , rushing in like there was nothing to stop him. Stupid Kubo-chan. He should have dodged. He should have ducked or something. It was like he didn't care. It was like he wanted to be shot.
I should punch this machine. Give me my subway ticket. Take this stupid 500 yen piece and give me my change and my ticket. Stop spitting it out! Fine. I'll use these three 100 yen pieces instead. I snatched the ticket too hard - it's ripped on the side. The turnstiles still took it, so it doesn't matter. I must look pissed, everyone's shying away from me. I don't care. Maybe I'll get to sit down on the subway, if they're that scared of me. Yeah, grandma, I'm sitting down here. No, I don't want to talk. Maybe if I open my game and pretend to be reading the booklet she'll leave me alone. I wonder if I can do that all the way home. Then I won't have to talk to her.
That lady over there is carrying a package. I should call the quack. He probably has something he wants delivered or something. I don't want to call him. I haven't talked to him, not for at least 3 weeks. I called him back then, but that's because Kubo-chan had said we'd drop by that Sunday. I didn't need money, so I didn't really need a job. Otchan had said that Kubo-chan had insurance or something, and that I didn't need to worry about paying the bills. It's stupid. You need money when they're alive, but those guys take it and then when you don't need it they give it back, plus some. What good is money when you're...
Stupid Kubo-chan. His blood was hot and wet. I had to scrub really hard to get it off. It left my skin sore and red. Not only that, it ruined my favorite hoodie. I had to buy another one. This new one was ok, but it wasn't the same color, it was too dark gray. I liked that old hoodie, but I couldn't get the brown out of it, not completely. Dried blood pisses me off. I yelled at him for bleeding. He just smiled at me, that stupid, infuriating, sad smile that pissed me off. I knew before we got to the quack's place that it was stupid. Stupid to be there. Stupid to be carrying his limp ass down the street watching the sun rise and hoping I'd get there before everyone started going to work and someone might see me. They would have called an ambulance or something. Then they would have started asking things. I hate it when people ask things.
Something's wrong with this subway train. The air in here is making my eyes sting. Maybe the oil's burning or something. It makes me blink. And my eyes water. Good, this is my stop. I can just get out here, and go back to the apartment, and play my game. And have pizza. Without pineapples. And beer. And I'm gonna stay up all night, and play this game, and beat it. I don't care if I have school tomorrow, and if Otchan calls and tells me to go to sleep, I won't listen to him. Then I can call in sick tomorrow and I won't have to go to the executive committee room and I won't have to listen to Fujiwara crying. Stupid shit has been crying for a month, every day, talking to me like I was crying too. I'm gonna beat the shit out of him, if he talks to me again. I'll beat the shit out of him like I did that kid who was smoking on the roof of the school. I don't care if Matsumoto kicks me out of school this time, instead of talking to me like last week.
It's a good thing the apartment's on this street. The pizza place on the corner is pretty good. And quick, too. It's a little hard to unlock the door with this box in my hand. It better not slip against the side. Crumpled pizza is disgusting. The pizza scent is making me wrinkle my nose. Too sweet. Maybe it doesn't matter if the pizza is crumpled. Good, there's still beer in the fridge, and I'll just use a paper towel for the pizza. I won't have to wash dishes. I should wash dishes. Kubo-chan's coffee mug is growing mold, I think.
There. I want to start a new game. Good, the memory card's already in. There's another one over there by that pack of Seven Stars. If there's no room on this card to save I'll use that one. I should clear off the coffee table, there's hardly room enough to put my beer can. Just push the others over, they're empty so it doesn't matter if they fall off. This pizza tastes foul. I always said it's wrong to put fruit on a pizza. It's too sweet.
I have to name my character? What the fuck, in the games I play they always already have names. What the hell was the point in naming your character? It won't let me skip past it. Fine. I'll just put in Neko. Stupid game.
I'm going to eat this pizza, and drink the rest of the beer in the fridge, and play until I fall asleep right here. Just like I have for the past three weeks. The couch is just fine even if I wake up a little stiff in the morning. It's warmer here, anyhow. Not like the bed. The bed is too cold to sleep in. Maybe the heat in the apartment isn't working right or something. I'll just sleep here, on the couch, and call in sick tomorrow, and play this stupid game until I beat it, and then I'll play the other games. Even if Otchan comes over and tries to make me go back to school, I'm not gonna do it. I'm gonna beat these games. And when I get hungry tomorrow maybe I'll order from that delivery place, but I won't get curry. I'm sick of curry. I'll get something else. I'll just stay here, on the couch, where it's warm, and play my games. They can just kick me out of school. Then I can play these games until I die. Then I'll go up to heaven, and beat the shit out of Kubo-chan for leaving me here, with the cold bed and the stupid RPG and the too-sweet pizza and the curry soba and curry rice and that pack of Seven Stars over there and his coffee mug growing mold and...
The controller doesn't work when it's wet.