I will be posting it here in a serial format. Parts will come as I write them.
This is only the first bit, and I'm not very good at beginnings. My writing style is kind of plain too, I suppose. The kind of awkward speech that these two first characters have doesn't help, haha.
This Mr. Hirasawa is based on the real one, but I am taking artistic license, of course. Note that he looks like he did in 1980, not like how he looks in my avatar, etc. Youngsawa.
Normally I write things with all original characters. I might post some other things if this ends well. I'll try to update at least once a week.
Part One.
Susumu breathed in the fresh air.
It was a lovely spring day, not too hot, and not too cold. The sun was shining, and colorful flowers and weeds bloomed in the field that seemed to stretch out for miles in all directions. The few trees were blossoming, and the petals danced in the wind. The air was clean and crisp.
Susumu closed his eyes and fell into the long, soft grass. He decided to stay here for the rest of his life.
But where was here?
He jumped back up and sternly surveyed his surroundings. There wasn’t a sign of human life, not even a road or anything.
He started to get angry, but something in the air calmed him right down.
“It’s alright,” Susumu said to himself in a quiet voice, “It’s safe here. Very beautiful.”
He shook his head about violently. Did someone just call out to him? How much time has passed? He tried to keep focused.
“Hey, loon!” Yelled the voice of a man from far away. At first, Susumu thought he was talking to himself without controlling it, but a figure soon emerged from the distance. As he ran closer, Susumu could see that the stranger had long, black hair and a strange outfit that consisted of an Indian-style top, white shorts, and leather boots. Also, he had his face obscured by large, round sunglasses and a surgical mask.
The man nearly ran into Susumu.
“Look,” He said sharply, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’d best get out of here, the jicash will drive you mad. How long have you been out here, loon?”
“I don’t even know where ‘here’ is,” Susumu replied.
“Don’t imitate my voice,” Said the stranger. “What happened to you, man? Did you fall out of the sky or something?”
“Perhaps,” Susumu answered, “it’s all kind of a blur. I don’t remember anything but my name.”
“And what’s your name?”
“Susumu Hirasawa.”
“And my Mum is a dog. Look, it’s the jicash. Wear this,” The man said, and after fishing through his pockets for a bit, pulled out another mask and handed it to Susumu. He took it reluctantly.
“Is your head a bit more clear?” The person said, and without waiting for an answer, “Here, I’ll take you away from this stuff. You can call me Kazari, by the way. What should I call you?”
“Hirasawa will be fine,” was the answer. The duo started walking.
“How about you give me a name that won’t get me vaporized? Whatever, I’m calling you Shun.”
“Er, okay?” Susumu said, confused.
As the two walked on, Kazari asked quite a few questions, but Susumu never had a response.
“So, where are you from?”
“I don’t know.”
It went on like that until they reached a small wooden house in the lake of grass and flowers.
“This is my place,” said Kazari. He opened the door. “It’s not much, but it’s home. I watch the fields for wanderers like you.”
The house had two rooms. One, the main room, had a small bed, a table with a rice cooker, and what reminded Susumu of a TV set.
“That’s so Master can watch to make sure I don’t step out of line,” Kazari replied when asked.
“What is this, 1984?” muttered Susumu, incredulously.
The other room was a modern-looking bathroom, with storage cabinets squashed into every empty space.
“Occasionally, I find unfortunate people’s belongings scattered around the field,” Kazari said.
“What happens to the unfortunate people?”
“They get eaten. Or captured and vaporized. Whatever comes first.”
“That sounds nice.”
Kazari sat on the bed, pulled out a rag, and began to wipe his glasses without removing them first.
“I’ve noticed that you seem to remember small things about your life,” He said.
Susumu looked at the dirty floor. “I guess so.”
“Forget them,” said Kazari. “Become inconspicuous. I need to get you registered. Please wait a bit, and answer all questions when asked. Here are some facts about you,” He looked at the screen across from him, “In case you’ve forgotten. Your name is Shun Hasu. You were born in this city, Town-0. Your mother is an Announcer, and your father is in the Air Force.”
“Erm, yes.”
“Glad you understand,” said Kazari, and he opened a cupboard and pulled out another pair of sunglasses in a different style than his own. He then gave them to Susumu and said, “You’ll learn why this is needed later, but for now, put these on.”
“Do I have to wear a bell and say ‘koo’ when spoken to as well?” Susumu laughed a bit, and put his new shades on.
“I’m going to assume that’s a joke I don’t get.”
“You’ve assumed right, I guess. Man...”
“We will start the registration process now,” Said Kazari. He pressed a button on the TV-like object, and a woman sitting at a desk appeared on the screen. Susumu stepped back a bit. The picture looked a lot more realistic than the slightly grainy images he got on his TV back home. Back in...
It was only a few months ago when Susumu saw himself on TV for the first time. The day after his first performance in a live studio, he caught some clips on the morning news. It was a hot summer day, and Akiyama insisted on being too close for comfort, which didn’t exactly help matters. Everyone in the hotel room was up early due to the heat and excitement. The screen was small, and the image was bad, but the figures were recognizable. Not a #1 record, but good enough. A success.
“Wake up, Shun,” came Kazari’s voice, “answer the questions.”
Susumu decided not to say he remembered something.
It was a lovely spring day, not too hot, and not too cold. The sun was shining, and colorful flowers and weeds bloomed in the field that seemed to stretch out for miles in all directions. The few trees were blossoming, and the petals danced in the wind. The air was clean and crisp.
Susumu closed his eyes and fell into the long, soft grass. He decided to stay here for the rest of his life.
But where was here?
He jumped back up and sternly surveyed his surroundings. There wasn’t a sign of human life, not even a road or anything.
He started to get angry, but something in the air calmed him right down.
“It’s alright,” Susumu said to himself in a quiet voice, “It’s safe here. Very beautiful.”
He shook his head about violently. Did someone just call out to him? How much time has passed? He tried to keep focused.
“Hey, loon!” Yelled the voice of a man from far away. At first, Susumu thought he was talking to himself without controlling it, but a figure soon emerged from the distance. As he ran closer, Susumu could see that the stranger had long, black hair and a strange outfit that consisted of an Indian-style top, white shorts, and leather boots. Also, he had his face obscured by large, round sunglasses and a surgical mask.
The man nearly ran into Susumu.
“Look,” He said sharply, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’d best get out of here, the jicash will drive you mad. How long have you been out here, loon?”
“I don’t even know where ‘here’ is,” Susumu replied.
“Don’t imitate my voice,” Said the stranger. “What happened to you, man? Did you fall out of the sky or something?”
“Perhaps,” Susumu answered, “it’s all kind of a blur. I don’t remember anything but my name.”
“And what’s your name?”
“Susumu Hirasawa.”
“And my Mum is a dog. Look, it’s the jicash. Wear this,” The man said, and after fishing through his pockets for a bit, pulled out another mask and handed it to Susumu. He took it reluctantly.
“Is your head a bit more clear?” The person said, and without waiting for an answer, “Here, I’ll take you away from this stuff. You can call me Kazari, by the way. What should I call you?”
“Hirasawa will be fine,” was the answer. The duo started walking.
“How about you give me a name that won’t get me vaporized? Whatever, I’m calling you Shun.”
“Er, okay?” Susumu said, confused.
As the two walked on, Kazari asked quite a few questions, but Susumu never had a response.
“So, where are you from?”
“I don’t know.”
It went on like that until they reached a small wooden house in the lake of grass and flowers.
“This is my place,” said Kazari. He opened the door. “It’s not much, but it’s home. I watch the fields for wanderers like you.”
The house had two rooms. One, the main room, had a small bed, a table with a rice cooker, and what reminded Susumu of a TV set.
“That’s so Master can watch to make sure I don’t step out of line,” Kazari replied when asked.
“What is this, 1984?” muttered Susumu, incredulously.
The other room was a modern-looking bathroom, with storage cabinets squashed into every empty space.
“Occasionally, I find unfortunate people’s belongings scattered around the field,” Kazari said.
“What happens to the unfortunate people?”
“They get eaten. Or captured and vaporized. Whatever comes first.”
“That sounds nice.”
Kazari sat on the bed, pulled out a rag, and began to wipe his glasses without removing them first.
“I’ve noticed that you seem to remember small things about your life,” He said.
Susumu looked at the dirty floor. “I guess so.”
“Forget them,” said Kazari. “Become inconspicuous. I need to get you registered. Please wait a bit, and answer all questions when asked. Here are some facts about you,” He looked at the screen across from him, “In case you’ve forgotten. Your name is Shun Hasu. You were born in this city, Town-0. Your mother is an Announcer, and your father is in the Air Force.”
“Erm, yes.”
“Glad you understand,” said Kazari, and he opened a cupboard and pulled out another pair of sunglasses in a different style than his own. He then gave them to Susumu and said, “You’ll learn why this is needed later, but for now, put these on.”
“Do I have to wear a bell and say ‘koo’ when spoken to as well?” Susumu laughed a bit, and put his new shades on.
“I’m going to assume that’s a joke I don’t get.”
“You’ve assumed right, I guess. Man...”
“We will start the registration process now,” Said Kazari. He pressed a button on the TV-like object, and a woman sitting at a desk appeared on the screen. Susumu stepped back a bit. The picture looked a lot more realistic than the slightly grainy images he got on his TV back home. Back in...
It was only a few months ago when Susumu saw himself on TV for the first time. The day after his first performance in a live studio, he caught some clips on the morning news. It was a hot summer day, and Akiyama insisted on being too close for comfort, which didn’t exactly help matters. Everyone in the hotel room was up early due to the heat and excitement. The screen was small, and the image was bad, but the figures were recognizable. Not a #1 record, but good enough. A success.
“Wake up, Shun,” came Kazari’s voice, “answer the questions.”
Susumu decided not to say he remembered something.
I will work harder on this. I never finish anything, and I feel like finishing this.
