Imagine a typical high school classroom. What do you see in your mind’s eye? Rows of desks with chairs all facing the same direction. In particular towards a much larger desk with a chair facing the other rows and a blackboard behind it. Or perhaps it’s more modern and has a whiteboard instead, or perhaps even a flat monitor connected with or without wires to a computer on the desk. Such things are pretty normal in the grand scheme of places. Anyone can imagine it, even though several teachers throughout the world prefer different layouts to accommodate their own lesson plans. Regardless of this last point: The classroom this particular chain of events occurred within was the stereotype you doubtless conjured up in your mind as previously described. Extremely ordinary. Aggravatingly average. Mundane. Normal. Little bit dusty, could do with a bit of an airing out.
But that was the room. The actual students within the room, well, that was an entirely different story altogether! There were thirty-one students in the room in total. Fifteen girls. Sixteen boys. But these boys and girls were not the sort that could fade into any crowd, no, sir! The girls were all drop-dead gorgeous, stunningly attractive yet in entirely distinctive ways. The boys were much the same: Distinctive hairstyles that could be recognised at a glance. Fashion choices that consciously drew the eye. Even the ones that were a little out of shape were still strikingly attractive by anyone’s standards! A truly distinctive group of people, each with an appearance that almost appeared to have been consciously intended as memorable and distinct.
With one exception. The youngest member of class. Kiyonaga Nijo, fifteen years old. Imagine a boy that was average. Neither ugly nor particularly handsome. This was the kind of face you didn’t particularly pay attention to one way or the other. Nothing wrong with his features, they just didn’t stick out. Pretty ordinary hairstyle. Black hair. Neither short nor long. Sitting at the back of class with a white shirt and dark trousers smiling softly to himself. Because he knew what would happen tomorrow. Well. Not <i>exactly</i> what would happen tomorrow, but a vague idea that something would happen tomorrow.
The teacher strode right on into the classroom and the students all shut up and sat up straight at their desks. “Good morning, class!” Mrs Matsushina said in a sing-song voice. “I’m certain many of you are already aware of this, but I have a special announcement to make. Tomorrow is Kiyonaga’s sixteenth birthday!”
The class broke into applause all around him, and Kiyonaga stood up to take a bow. Ah, it felt so good to be at the centre of attention for once! The students on either side of him at the back of the class even took the opportunity to slap him on the back or shake his hand.
“Way to go, Kiyonaga!” one would say.
“Can’t wait to see what your adventure is!” another would say.
Now, that might have seemed a little strange to anyone not of this particular setting, but to Kiyonaga it all made perfect sense. Because on every single person’s sixteenth birthday, something happened. What that something was would ultimately depend on the person, but the core details remained ultimately the same.
Mrs Matsushina tapped the desk and everyone shut up and sat back down in a heartbeat. “Now, class, I think it might be useful to Kiyonaga to hear some of us tell him of what sort of thing to expect tomorrow. Why don’t I start? Back then, I was known as Ryoko, the demon leader of this very school.”
<hr>
Ryoko darted out among the shadows, deliberately avoiding eye contact with everyone and everything. She knew what today was. She knew what sorta crap she’d have to put up with! Screw that! She didn’t wanna have nothing to do with no adventures no way no how not happening!
And the first sign she got of some weirdo givin’ her fancy powers or some bullshit like that was the moment they found their kneecaps bashed in by a damn baseball bat.
“Excuse me, young miss,” said a voice approaching her from behind. “I was wondering if -”
“Die, creep! I ain’t goin’ on no adventure!”
The bat swung through the air, connected with something solid and Ryoko stared down at the creepy guy in a suit holding out some sorta gizmo or gadget or something towards a suddenly terrified-looking girl. Judging from the position the man had been standing in, Ryoko suddenly realised - Oh, shit. He was talkin’ to this nerd, not her!
“P-please don’t hurt me,” the pipsqueak said. “I don’t have anything on me, I swear!”
Ryoko rolled her eyes and began to walk away from the girl before she went and did something really dumb. Probably best to put a little distance between here and there; last thing she needed was getting into some sorta trouble over nothing.
She got about three steps away before a meaty hand clapped down on her shoulder. She peered back and boggled at the strange sight. It was that same girl as before, ’cept way bigger. Bit manic. No fear or nothin’, just pure, unbridled rage.
<hr>
“It turned out that there was a top-secret evil organisation trying to make people into delinquents against their will,” Mrs Matsushina said, sighing in remembrance. “In spite of myself, I couldn’t keep out of the conflict and goodness knows I tried! I continued right on trying right up until the end. Four years later when they kidnapped my family to try and make me bow to their wishes.
“This was the biggest mistake they could have made.”
<hr>
The building was littered with unconscious Delinquent Zombies left in the wake of the by now infamous Thunder Trio. Led by Ryoko herself, the Thunder Bat. Flanked on one side by the Gale Fist and the Lightning Feet on the other, they left nothing but destruction in their path. It was a strange thing to think that these two used to be the leaders of rival schools, but now they were allies. Before them stood a single metal door, and moments later there was nothing left at all.
“Give. Me. Back. My. Family!” Ryoko demanded to the portly gentleman sitting calmly at his desk.
“My goodness, Miss Ryoko!” Mister Matsushina said. “I had rather hoped my son would turn you to our side, but it seems the reverse is much closer. Tell me, why is this such a terrible thing? I would think you would welcome more delinquents! More people to buck the system! More people to -”
“More people forced to be who they’re not!” Ryoko snapped. “You don’t understand the first thing about being a delinquent! No point to it if there’s no system to rebel against!”
“I see,” Matsushina said, pushing up his dark glasses and cracking his knuckles. “You may have come this far. But you shall come no further. One step further, and your family dies in agony.”
“Not so fast, Father!” a voice called, and Ryoko felt a lump form in her throat. It couldn’t be! What was that traitorous bastard doing here?! That man that broke her heart into a thousand pieces, hurting her in a way she never even - “I’ve already set them all free! You’re finished!”
“Sorry it took me so long, Ryoko,” her future husband said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek while Gale rolled his eyes and Lightning chuckled under her breath. “But I know which side I’m on! Father! This way is wrong! Together, we shall finish you!”
<hr>
“The fight lasted all night as Father-in-law had his very own personal army,” Mrs Matsushina said with a sigh. “In the end we worked hard, and our friendship prevailed even over his giant super ultra destructobot. After which I retired as a shonen hero and started on my training to become a teacher. I suppose it must be difficult to believe someone as delicate as me could have once been a delinquent hero, yes?”
The class collectively sweatdropped. Nope. Not really. They’d all seen various displays of her strength over their time in this class. Like that one time she took over gym and accidentally bent some of the equipment, or that time a cat stole her sandwich and she chased after it all over campus. They believed her. They really, really did.
“I think we have time for three more stories before we should begin class,” Mrs Matsushina continued.
“If y’all don’t mind, I’d like to take a whirl at it,” said a girl in a stetson. Romi Watari, total and complete fangirl for spaghetti westerns. “I woke up one mornin’ and found myself on a fantasy world just like the old west!” Well. She obviously meant the fictional old west rather than the actual wild west, which she probably wouldn’t like so much. But who was Kiyonaga to spoil her fun? “There was cowboys and cowgirls everywhere in need of a hero! I sorted out their li’l old problem and scooted back here. Pop back now ’n’ again to help ’em out as they need it.”
“Hmph! That’s nowhere near as interesting as mine!” said another student. Hachiro Kasaya, who could always be found with his hands on a game console or controller of some sort, even now. “I had just returned home from school, when I was sucked into the world of my favourite game! They lacked a strategic genius, and I was more than willing to oblige them! I’ve even managed to get the princess of their world to agree to date me in the real world even though she’s a total tsundere!”
“I was putting away the table tennis tables after the club was done with them!” said the ever enthusiastic Keisuke Soho. “Then I found a slip of paper detailing an ancient, forgotten table tennis training technique. That led to me being attacked by assassins from throughout the world that wanted that secret back! Every so often they kidnap me and force me to play games against them where my life is on the line!”
Yep. It really was just that simple and Kiyonaga couldn’t wait. All year he’d been watching as the other students reached their sixteenth birthdays. All year he’d watched as they increasingly began to stand out from the crowd. Adventure! Intrigue! Excitement! He could hardly even wait for it! All day long, all he could think about were the officially recognised rules for being a shonen hero, over and over again:
1: Your story begins properly on your sixteenth birthday with an event that will define all others to come.
2: You will encounter at least one rival.
3: You will encounter a romantic interest, possibly more than one. If more than one, it will be obvious which one you should wind up with. It’s usually (but not always) the first you meet.
4: Your story will last a few years, and once it is done you will be considered a “retired” shonen hero.
If he was perfectly honest it was always number three that interested him the most. Romantic interest? Well now! Who would that be? One of the girls in class, perhaps? Or someone he’d not even met yet? Either way, he was practically giddy with excitement. The possibilities! The potential! Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough!
<hr>
Kiyonaga’s eyes snapped open and he sat up in bed. This was it. Today was the day. Today was the day the course of his life would be set. This was the day his story would begin. His sixteenth birthday. He threw open the curtains and felt slightly disappointed that he was still on the same street, but it didn’t need to be something like that. “It could be anything,” he said. “Literally anything. Someone I meet, something I read, literally anything at all.”
He sighed and pulled on his usual clothes. Funny how he didn’t really feel all that different. Did everyone think that on the day it began? Probably, now that he thought about it! His eyes fell upon the clock and - Oh god! He had to run for it! No time for breakfast! Heh! At least that much seemed about right! He dashed down the stairs, grabbed a slice of toast and was gone through the school’s front gate before he even knew it! Alright. So it wasn’t something that would happen in the morning probably. Ah! The anticipation was getting worse moment by moment! Robots! Aliens! Evil clones! What would it be? What could it possibly be?
The question was unanswered by lunchtime as he sat in the shade underneath a tree. Hachiro plopped down next to him. Game in hand. As always. “So, anything happen yet?” he asked.
“Not unless you count being nearly late for school,” Kiyonaga replied sullenly.
Hachiro chuckled. “Gotta be more patient than that. Remember! Mine didn’t happen until well after school! What’s more - No! Emperor Zap! But you were vanquished! Sorry, Kiyonaga. Duty calls!”
And then he was gone, sucked into his handheld console with the console itself even sucked in as well. Probably best not to ask how that worked; seeing it in a three-dimensional context was at best screwy with the senses and at worst completely mind breaking.
“Hey now, why you looking so down?” Keisuke asked, ruffling Kiyonaga’s hair in just the right way to annoy him. “That’s no way for a birthday boy to behave!”
The birthday boy glowered back at him, but soon broke out into a smile. That guy was just far too infectious! He couldn’t stay annoyed at him no matter what!
“Nothing happened yet, huh?” Keisuke continued. Kiyonaga shook his head. “Bored out of your mind waiting, I bet! I was kinda the same, until it happened! Just remember. Hard work, friendship and determination lead to victo-”
“Keeper of the ancient secret!” a voice cackled. “I shall be the one to defeat you! Come with me, or your school will burn!”
“Sorry, bud, you know how it is! Gotta go do my duty! Come back here, you cowardly assassin! This time I shall ring your master’s name from you! There is no escape!”
Another one gone. Another shonen hero having fun on his birthday while he waited for something out of the blue to occur. So far it had all been perfectly dull and ordinary. No hint of anything strange happening. Nothing at all. Except for a little sparkle in the air that was telling him he should probably get out of the way before -
Before a heavy weight landed on him, knocking him flat onto his back and leaving his vision groggy while a very attractive (and similarly groggy) blonde-haired cowgirl straddled his waist and blinked several times while realising that once again she had appeared in this position. Once again Kiyonaga braced himself. Once again she drew back her hand. Once again she slapped him and dismounted.
“Pervert,” Romi said as she stalked off. “I don’t care what you say, y’all are doing it on purpose. What would my beloved say if he saw me like that? That rugged hunk of a man, so tender and kind, and can punch out a charging bull with his bare fists…”
“It’s not like I can do anything to influence things,” Kiyonaga said with a sigh. “I go to different places every day, and you still manage to land on me. Even the other day when I was leaning against a wall.” In all honesty he was just glad it hadn’t happened while he was in the boy’s changing room or toilet.
“Hmph! So says you! Oh yes! That’s right! Ain’t it your sixteenth today? Anything interesting happen your way yet? Anything particularly nasty?”
“Not a thing,” he answered, automatically discounting Romi’s seemingly daily arrival on his lap. “I figure it’ll probably happen after school or something. I’m just bored of the wait is all.”
<hr>
So here he was, lying in bed watching the clock tick on over. It was like water torture. Each minute took him closer to the time it would happen, but at the same time each minute told him another dozen things that could happen to him out of the blue right about now. Maybe a spontaneous appearance in his room. Or something might enter through the window. Hence it being open, even though it was kinda cold tonight. Or he might read something in a book that gave him some insight into his future story (which is why he was flicking through some of them even now). Or. Or. Or. So many ors, not enough definites.
And now here he was unable to sleep. His digital clock read 11:59. His heart was racing by now. It was about to happen. It was going to happen any minute. Any second. Something bizarre and outrageous that would set the course of his life from this point onwards! He would become a hero. He would get a cute girlfriend. He would stand out in a way that only he ever could! He would have adventures filled with action and excitement and laughter and danger and -
00:00
Nothing. Nothing happened to him all day. Nothing that hadn’t happened yesterday or the day before or a week ago. But that - What? What?!
“No freaking way.”
Nothing had happened to him. Not a trace of a thread he could grab onto for the purpose of unravelling an adventure. Not a trace of intrigue. Not a hint of - anything!
“What the hell is this?!” he whispered, though it felt to him like a yell. “What the hell is this?! Nothing even happened! Nothing at all! You have got to be kidding me!”
Could anyone possibly be surprised to learn that he didn’t catch a single wink of sleep for hours? No. I didn’t think so. How could he possibly sleep while angrily pacing around in his room, trying to figure out what the hell had gone wrong?
By the time the clock read 03:00 he was starting to feel that exhaustion usual to staying up later than normal but his mind was too aflame to consider rest. Why? Why couldn’t he have his own story? What was keeping it from happening? Was there something wrong with him? Was there a reason he didn’t get to have his own story? By half past the hour he could feel tears forming on his face and he collapsed face down into his pillow. The next thing he knew light was streaming through the window and he almost fell out of bed while trying to stand up.
Another day of being ignored. Another lifetime of it. He dragged himself to his desk and into the chair with heavy breathing. He was a nobody. No one important. Not a shonen hero. Not anything.
Unless he did something about it himself. What was it that was said to him just yesterday? “Hard work. Friendship. Determination. Those are the roads to success.”
In which case giving up so easily would be the absolute worst thing he could do. If he wanted to be a shonen hero - “Then I’ll have to work for it!” he snarled, eyes burning with fiery spirit!
- He would try and force his way into another classmate’s story.
- He would investigate the cause behind shonen heroes in his world.
- He would become a villain!
- Something else
No comments:
Post a Comment