i.
It's the year out of high school and Randy is...something. Disappointed, maybe?
Yeah. The empty, shallow feeling he breathes out everyday must be disappointment. It was inevitable, he supposes. After so much hype and romanticizing from movies and shows and teachers, anyone would feel confused at the end of high school.
There are four intense years leading up to it – and it turns out, all 'it' is is a short walk in a gown and a paper shoved into your hands. If graduating high school isn't the height of disappointment, Randy doesn't know what is.
Well. College. Randy hadn't known what he wanted to do – seems like he probably should've thought of that during four years of high school – but that doesn't matter too much, he's found.
His mom is satisfied with him taking 'the basics' for a year at Norrisville Community College. It's like high school, except no one tells him what to do. Teachers in college don't care if he passes or fails – they are so chill that it's starting to worry him.
Too many things are starting to worry him.
The thing is, Randy doesn't remember much of high school. He's been told that's fairly normal – especially if your high school experience sucked (and he has it on good authority that his did, thanks Howard).
Still, though. Some parts of it nag at him.
"Hey. Did we ever meet the ninja?" He asks Howard one day, the two of them playing grave puncher 8 in Howard's dorm room.
Because he knows about the Ninja; everyone does. You can't live in Norrisville for more than a year and not know about the Ninja.
He and Howard had been Ninja's number one fans – Randy remembers that – and they'd had such great plans to get to know him in high school. He thinks he even made the Ninja a fan blog, or something.
And yet –
"But we couldn't have met him, right? I would remember that, at least." He muses aloud.
Howard doesn't say anything right away.
Howard has never really been a hide-your-emotions kind of guy – he doesn't have enough shame for that, honestly. Something strong is shinning through his face, bright and clear, but Randy isn't sure what it is.
Maybe...He thinks. Maybe it's sadness?
He's never really seen it on Howard's face before, not like this, so he can't be sure.
Although, ever since Randy had told Howard about not remembering much of high school, Howard has looked like this...
Sad.
He looks sad now.
"No, we met the Ninja." He says. He doesn't look Randy in the eye. "He...saved me. More than once."
"So. What, you met him without me?" Randy says. It's his first thought, however improbable the idea that his best friend had done something without him – or even more unlikely, that he'd done something without Randy and it's never even occurred to him to tell Randy about it.
"You – you met him a couple of times, too. You probably don't remember because of all the monster attacks. Oh and robot attacks. And monster robot attacks."
Howard can be weird sometimes.
Randy has the mental focus of a squirrel though, and his mind is already jumping back to his next college class and the essay he needs to do for it. He's already let go of this odd, dubious sticking point for his memory of high school.
These things are beginning to worry him, but not much. Especially not when he shoves it to the back of his mind, jams it down as far as it will go, and slams a lid on it.
"Huh." Randy says absently, trying to remember the essay's prompt. "Guess the Ninja wasn't really that memorable, then."
Thirty seconds later, Howard actually lets his player character die, sets down his controller, and says in his most solemn voice, usually reserved only for chili fries and new game releases,
"Ninja was – is awesome, Cunningham. He's one of the best people I have ever met. He saved my cheese so many times that I–I wouldn't be here, if not for him."
Howard's face is doing that thing again, where he looks the opposite of angry. The 'sad' thing.
It's weirding Randy out.
"Okay," he says, holding his hands up in surrender. "You met the Ninja, and he was awesome. Sure. Whatever. I just – thought it was wonk that I couldn't remember it."
"Yeah." Howard sighs. "It is. It's really bumming me out, too."
"Sorry, bro." Randy wonders how he can cheer him up. "You wanna go get some nachos?"
Howard smiles at him. The sad look is fading away.
"Yeah. Let's go get some nachos."
A/N: So I'm trying this 5+1 thing. This story takes place after Randy has graduated high school, so he's mindwiped himself and passed the mantle of Ninja on to another freshman.
I still wanted a little bit of Ninja left in him, though, so Randy can feel something is missing, even if he's not sure what it is.