My Yakuza Lineage and Otaku Nature Ruin my Teenage Romance
DISCLAIMER: Persona 3 is owned by ATLUS. I don't.
"PLEASE GO OUT WITH M-ME!"
". . . .Eh?"
The orange that painted the late afternoon sky was the ideal color to have as your background in an afterschool confession. Coupled with the fact that it was in a secluded place and that Yukari was my childhood friend, there was no mistake that I had a 99.99% chance of getting a positive answer to my confession. After all, the guy never gets rejected, especially in galgames—
"I'm sorry, Makoto-kun. But I won't go out with you."
"Huh?" I reacted, my jaws slacking down in shock. "W-why not?" The brunette in front of me giggled, and looked at me in the eyes.
And hers reflected pity. Her irises told me that her thoughts went like "is this a joke?"
She put a finger near her chin, looking like a cliché version of a smart detective trying to think through things. "Well, you're an otaku for starters. And even if we are childhood friends, it's not like I had feelings for you, y'know? Besides I already like someone else." She then flashed a smile, one that would haunt me for god knows how long.
. . . . .
That dream again.
I groggily rose up from my bed, and searched for the alarm clock.
5:30am.
Part of the routine I have developed was waking up early and fixing whatever it was that I had to in the house before I got to school. Other than that, for some totally unknown reason, my body clock has always been like this – late to bed, early to wake.
After having fixed my bed, I opened the curtains and began a quick scan of my room – my laptop was still turned on, various articles of clothing littered the floor, snack packs and empty ramen cups piled into the small trash bin, and piles of manga were strewn all over.
Yep, it was the usual bedroom scenario of a shut-in.
Though most people picture this sort of environment for shut-ins like me, I developed the habit of cleaning up every morning after a long night of doing nothing but being, well, an otaku. Also, like the usual shut-in, I was the clichéd type of who has no friends, keeps playing games, watches anime and reads manga, collects otaku goods, and has no friends.
"Dammit, where're my glasses?"
Having fixed the calamity rubble in my room, I went downstairs and got ready to prepare breakfast.
You may wonder: "where the hell are this kid's parents?" Well, for one – my Mom's dead. Her passing away has only been last month, partly due to tuberculosis and partly because of depression over my Dea – I mean, Dad. My Dead, I mean Dad, has been declared "dead" last month; after having disappeared on his fateful trip to Italy, he never came back. Not one postcard from the douche. Not one phone call to my mom or me. All everyone could assume was that he was as dead as a doorknob.
Next question would be: "where'd he get his cash to live by himself?!" The answer to that's simple – I work part time. I disappear a lot from school because I work for 5 different jobs a day on Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. I made do with what my mom had left me, and soon studied hard to attain a scholarship and persevered to get accepted into jobs, even if I was still underage.
"Oh, toast's done."
Thinking back, my life going downhill all started from that, just last year. That time had left me feeling the most pathetic and humiliated, shrinking into a shell of my former self.
Yukari Takeba.
She was my childhood friend – the sort that was classmates with me ever since kindergarten. She'd been my neighbor for as long as I could tell. Over the years, I started thinking of her as less of a friend and more of a love interest. We had such a good relationship as friends, that I thought I had a chance at confessing.
How wrong I was.
I was rejected outright, then and there. I had planned everything – I checked the weather for the perfect sunset scenario, checked the school schedule to see if any late afterschool club members would pass by, played 50 different games to simulate the situation, and practiced in front of a mirror.
Her reason for having liked someone else, I could understand – but the other reason she gave sank into my brain like venom, slowly paralyzing my senses and driving me to an internal death.
Well, you're an otaku for starters.
Coupled with her pitying smile and condescending look, I couldn't look at Yukari the same way. Sure, she's known that I've been an otaku most of my life, but only to an extent; I still prioritized my studies, I was supposed to be the next captain of the kendo team, I had friends, and I was part of the student council.
That day, I forced the most painful smile that could have formed on my face, and wished her luck in pursuing the person who interested her. At that, she smiled sincerely and even asked us "to remain friends."
I hurriedly made an excuse of having to watch anime, and ran – with all the strength I could muster. Back to the comforts of home; to my room, where no other would see me in my most vulnerable.
For the next two weeks after that, I didn't come to class, nor did I come out of my room. Everyday, Mom would knock and ask me what was wrong or if I wanted to talk about something. Her sincere and warm tone was what eased me, but I still refused to come out, nor say anything.
For those two weeks, I only slipped out a sheet of paper under the door for some things I had wanted, like food or drinks. After I gathered the courage to go to school again, I asked the principal himself to give me a privilege to take exams in advance and still earn credits without coming to school much. I stopped talking to my friends. I was always alone on the roof. But there was one thing in school that tore me more than anything else:
Yukari Takeba was acting like normal in front of her so-called friends, and just kept greeting me like nothing happened.
Yukari Takeba was always hanging out with the man she mentioned as her interest; and it turned out to be Kurota-senpai, the current head of the kendo team at that time.
And Yukari Takeba spoke out loud to her friends, with all her heart, about how otakus were just plain annoying, with nothing useful to do in their lives.
That was the last straw.
I quit kendo.
I quit the student council.
I became the target of bullying.
I grew more and more withdrawn in my room.
Mom got sick. Dad never came back.
I had to find jobs to support Mom.
Dad was declared dead.
Mom died.
I was alone. None of my relatives wanted me.
I was just plain annoying, with nothing useful to do in my life.
Finishing breakfast, I hurriedly bathed and changed into my school uniform. I decided to stop brooding over the past and continue as I have – I would graduate, get a course as a programmer, and work in the gaming industry. Heck, maybe I had a chance at landing a job at Sony, if I was good enough.
After having made sure that the house was secure, I rushed out the neighborhood and went to the usual route to school. Going through Iwatodai Station, I rode the train bound for Port Island.
Fifteen minutes later, as I strolled through Port Island Station, I heard a scream coming from the outskirts. No good rumors ever circulated about the outskirts – it was filled with delinquents, majority from Gekkoukan High, hanging out with the wrong crowd.
Sighing, I went to take a look, and made sure that I was as discreet as possible to avoid unwanted attention. Three delinquents were surrounding a teal-haired girl, who also wore the uniform from Gekkoukan. The three punks had that clichéd smug looks; faces that even their moms would have refused to love. The girl shook, fear painted on her face.
"C'mon, ojou-chan, let's have some fun!"
"Yeah, we've seen ya a lot around in Port Island Station, whenever ya go home! Lucky your bodyguards ain't with ya today! Kukukuku!"
"Sooo, Whaddya say? Hehehehehe. . ."
The girl had her eyes shut, and fell to the ground. "P-please, leave me alone! D-don't hurt me!"
Tears were already streaming down her eyes, and I couldn't stand it anymore.
C'mon, Yuuki! Ain't ya fightin' back?! C'MON! Hahahahaha!
Hey, give your money here, fscktard! Or do you want nasty rumors about you to spread?!
Want your Portable back? Then take it!
Where's Mommy now, huh, Yuuki?! No one ain't gonna be there when you cry!
I never fought back, even if I could. I had no reason to – someone as annoying as an otaku like me deserved nothing in this society.
It was fine if I was bullied. Just not someone like her.
My legs moved on their own. My own bitterness fueled me.
"Hey, you morons."
The three punks, together with the teal-haired girl, turned to me.
"Waddya want, arsehole?!"
I walked to a nearby garbage bin and took its metal lid. Thinking back to my favorite Captain America comic book, I toyed with the lid a bit.
And threw it at the baldy.
I then rushed in, and kneed the one with the limited edition Ash Ketchum cap (damn, I always wanted one), and then took bag and whacked the one with an afro right in the face. I moved for the girl, carried her bridal-style, and broke into a sprint.
"You okay? Hey, are you. . . ."
"Zzzzzz. . ."
"Asleep, huh."
The only sanctuary I could think of was the school – both of us were students there, anyway. I took her immediately to the infirmary, with Mr. Edogawa giving me a surprised look Mr. Edogawa was also an early bird to school). After explaining the situation, he gave me a nod and proceeded out the infirmary, saying something like "putting wards outside the school gate."
Apparently, the girl had fainted after I had brought her to school. Before having gone, Mr. Edogawa did only one look and told me that the girl was anemic, which was the possible reason for her loss of consciousness. After tucking her in, I went out and proceeded to the classroom.
It had been another draggy day. And as usual, I was subjected to Mr. Ekoda's failed attempts at public humiliation due to my "advantageous" location in the class. Apparently, I was the only student who could "guess the right answer" after taking a nap during Classic Literature.
If this was a manga and I was a protagonist, I'd be seated near the window at the far back, staring with melancholy at the sky. I'd have many friends and spend lunch with them at the roof, enjoying the view and dumb conversations we'd have. And soon, I'd make a confession under a sunset at the back of—
Nevermind. Let me stop there.
Up on the roof, I was silently eating the bento I had prepared and enjoying it to the minimum. I stared far into the noon sky, wondering about what would have become of me if I had succeeded back then—
No. Everything happens for a reason. It's just that mine happened in the crappiest way possible.
I had accepted it as a sign of forever being alone, coupled with the fact that I was literally alone in the house. No family. No friends. No love. Nothing at all.
My ties with the world have become solely materialistic – the things I've thus far collected as an otaku. Games were a place to let off some steam; manga let my mind wonder; and anime let me enjoy the fictional world that it had very well solidified in this world.
As I continued to brood, a strong gust of wind began blowing through the roof, and a very loud sound resounded overhead.
A helicopter was approaching the roof.
I stood up, and as soon as I did, a ladder came out of the flying vehicle. Out came men wearing sunglasses and suits; and what surprised me was the fact that they carried weapons – guns, katanas, and many more. Before I could make a run for it, one last man came out and with him was a megaphone.
"Are you Makoto Yuuki?!" he shouted.
"E-eeh?!"
"I asked, are you Makoto Yuuki?!"
"Y-yes, I am!"
The man began walking, and soon faced me in front. He took off his red sunglasses (whoa, they look like the kind Slash wears!) and looked me in the eyes.
"My name is Tatsuya Suou, right hand to the leader of the Yakuza. By the will of your father, the current head, you are to start training to become the next head of the whole Yakuza group residing in Japan!"
Read and review. Sorry if Velvet Room, Inc. hasn't been updated for a while – I'm busy IRL and I've also taken time to polish my writing and continue fics that have stayed incomplete in my hard drive. I'll be updating this soon, and depending on the feedback, I might or might not continue this. Shall we say, this is experimental? :D
~Arsony
