When's When

By Kenji

Foreword: Ohyama's life takes a rather dismal turn in this chapter! Ooh! Intriguing? Not for the author!

Is O. Masaaki merely a delinquent youth, disillusioned with the world? Is he merely another irksome maggot bastard with an overactive brain? Probably neither, but you'll find out later anyway. Maybe.

What else do I need to say? Get the hell outta my office!

Disclaimer: I own the Globe Theatre in London… that's about it I'm afraid.

FIRST SECTION: FRESQUES SUR LES PAROIS SECRÈTES DU CRÂNE

Uuugrh… What time is it? Where the hell's my mobile… ah, here we are… 4:00 AM. Man… what did I drink last night! I'm certain I only had one or two cokes and maybe a cup of tea on the side… I'm not a damn beatnik for god's sake!

"Masaaki…"

Jesus, who the hell was that? There's someone else occupying my bed… or rather, this bed. Indeed, now that I think about it, this doesn't even feel like my pillow - or my mattress, for that matter. The covers reek of a nondescript, no-name-brand cruiser; the pillowcase is saturated with sweat – with any luck, it's not my own.

Hm. I guess I should be trying to determine where the fuck I am – easier said than done, since the room's pitch black. Wait… I've digressed – and forgotten something rather important in the process: that presence in the bed. With the intentions of waking this unconscious being, I make a brief cacophony with the bed sheets, and then wait for a reaction.

"Ehh? Wha… Masaaki…?"

It's a woman. Why am I in a woman's bed? Let's do a 'retrospective': I departed from the school gates at around 4:00, after completing my history essay. Then I rendezvoused with my sister at the park; we immediately headed home. I vividly recall watching Wonder Boys on the foreign films channel… and then… heh, a mental blank. I guess that must have been where I went wrong, so to speak. Maybe I went out for ramen and ran into a prostitute? Man, that would put a few unsightly blemishes on my reputation. I'll tell her to keep quiet about this.

I've decided I'll play a few ringtones at full volume. That should have her on her feet in no time.

"Argggh!"

Just as I predicted. Halfway through Raspberry Heaven I hear her leap up, wailing hysterically. I give her a light tap on what I presume to be her shoulder, and wait for her to speak.

"Masaaki-san? Is that you?"

Who the hell calls me Masaaki–san? I don't know anyone who would refer to me with such respect, except perhaps… my sister. Oh, god… that's revolting…

"Ohyama-kun!"

She suddenly opts for my preferred 'epithet'. Do I know this person? Or rather, did I know her when I was inebriated? Was I just another drunkard; just another customer, lurking around the back alleys of Shibuya at midnight, only a few hours ago? I've just noticed, but I have the irritating habit of jumping to my own conclusions almost instinctively, with very few prior details that could serve to inform my decision – I guess I'll have to work on that. For now… I'll give this frenzied lunatic a response.

"Alright, that's enough."

"Ohyama-kun…?"

"You've said that twice now. Calm yourself."

She complies, and suppresses her histrionics – for the time being, at least.

"Ohyama-kun? Don't you recognize me?"

"How would I go about doing that? You can't see shit in here."

"Yeah… but I thought you would've recognized my voice at least."

"Hmm. No…"

She groans.

"It's Kagura."

"Ah, right. Hey."

"Hey."

I glower at her through the darkness.

"So, what's the explanation for this?"

"This? What are you talking about?"

"Firstly, why are we in this bed? In fact, why are we even in this room?"

"…Eh…"

"What?"

"You brought me here."

Shit. I was drunk. My moral fibre is in entropy!

"I brought you here. Why would I do that?"

No reply. You have to be rigorous with this kind of situation, so I guess I'll try again.

"Why did I bring you here last night?"

"Ohyama-kun… how would I know!"

Extremely helpful.

"Can't you be a little more cooperative?"

She grunts.

"Let me ask you something – was I drunk last night?"
Brief silence, and then;

"I couldn't really tell, Ohyama-kun, but you looked a bit dazed and all, so it's a possibility…"

I consider this for a few moments.

"So. I brought you here. This is a love hotel?" I ask callously.

"…yeah…"

Another pause;

"Were you aware that I was taking you here?"

"...Uh, I think you muttered something about it… but I couldn't really understand you, Ohyama-kun…"

She shifts restlessly. She's probably just as concerned about this as I am. She is, after all, on the varsity swimming team. As am I. Haha.

"Ok… Now, what happened when we got here?"

This enquiry is partially a rhetorical question… actually; I'm praying fervently that it's not.

"Um… Ohyama-kun… eh…."

"Shit. What…"

The notion that I could easily resolve this affair is preposterous at this point. It's clearly gone way too far for a quick apology and a few condolences; Hell, I'll probably be coerced into a community service programme.

But… there's still a glimmer of hope. Somewhere.

"Ohyama…kun… It's not what you think, alright? Don't worry about it, ok? It's… not a problem?"

Is she trying to console me? It's not that easy, moron! Ihardly know you! You may as well be a surrogate hooker! Since when were we intimate like that? Why was she prepared for me? Had I been transformed into a coquettish, erudite wanker whilst on the booze and staggering around Electric Town? To hell with this!

Suddenly, the light flickers on. Finally.

"Ohyama-kun."

Fortunately she's not fully exposed, though one could catch a sporadic peek at her cleavage – if one were so inclined, hahaha. She reaches up to stroke my face. No, sorry. It doesn't work that way. I grab her hand.

"Ohyama-kun? What's up?"

Man, yesterday was brilliant, but as for today… today's just pure, unadulterated madness. This girl – Kagura - was, roughly eight hours ago, having a good laugh with me on the school rooftop. She was inherently a potential friend; she was interested in the various predicaments of my life, my hobbies and interests – and vice versa. But then… this happened! Why the hell was I drunk on a school night, for god's sake! What had gotten into me?

"This is fucked." I mumbled. She agreed solemnly.

How's that for an evening? Oh, but there's more! Kagura and I seem to share an intrinsic connection – a bond, if you will – that enables us to empathize with each other on a deeper level. Now that I think about it, that sounds rather ludicrous, considering what's just occurred. Ah, but, 'that's life, ain't it'? What a bastard of a phrase that one is. It's not life. It's bloody psychosis! I'll probably remain neurotic for a few days now. Might head down to the gym in a few hours – exercise has a soothing effect, you know? Perhaps you don't know. Perhaps Kagura will join me. That'd be nice – probably.

But, as I said, that's a few hours away, precisely four. What the hell are we gonna do until then?

SECOND SECTION: ORGANIC CLOUD/AMBIENT OTAKUS

"Hey, Ohyama."

"What?"

"I think you'll feel the same way, but… let's not tell anyone about this, ok?"

Isn't that obvious? She isn't so judicious after all. Maybe there's no façade?

"Yeah, I know that. It's pointless to mention it now, though."

For no apparent reason, she smirked.

"You know, you're rather different right now. During the day you were a pretty nice guy, but you're acting pretty frosty… what's up?"

"All the events leading up to now – that's what's up."

Actually, it's probably just the fact that I'm an absolute dickhead in the morning – perhaps intensified at such a horrendous hour. God, four AM – 'give me a break', or whatever.

"By the way, Ohyama-kun… do you want to hang out with us tomorrow?"

Tomorrow? At school? Yeah, of course! I'll be up bright and early just to meet you! Of course not! I've probably contracted pathological insomnia! I can barely move!

"Sure, if I'm awake."

She chuckles quietly.

"Good point Ohyama-kun, we'll probably both be half-dead!"

Not a very high-quality joke, but I give her a small grin. I guess she's been vaguely reasonable. She's still incredibly stupid, though – I guess we can't help that, can we? Ha, ha, ha.

"Anyway Ohyama-kun…"

"Hey, have you noticed? You have an increasingly maddening habit."

"What's that?"

"Look… you don't need to refer to me by name each time you talk. I haven't used your name even once so far."

"Oh. Right… well then… I was going to say, do you want to put some music on?"

Yes… but the stereo's going to fall under my jurisdiction.

"Yeah, sure. Is it alright if I choose the soundtrack?"

She nods eagerly. A closet music buff, perhaps? Maybe her J-pop leaves her in a state of perpetual languor, and she wants to expand her horizons? Who cares though! I pop in a few favourites of mine: the Kimagure Orange Road vocal collection, Organ Language's Organ Language Plays Outer Tone, Nick Drake's Made To Love Magic and Enigma's MCMXC A.D., my private 'chill-out mix'. I hurl myself back onto the bed, narrowly missing Kagura (who emits a semi-delighted squeal) and let the divine melodies of Ikeda Masanori placate the uneasy atmosphere. It'll probably fail miserably in that regard, though, since I heard Kagura detests pop music… er, despite what I said earlier. Ostensibly she's a fan of the Back Horn… argh, repulsive band!

This will certainly be a long night... if I can even keep my eyes open!

Kenji's codicil: I thought that was pretty cool. You might be concerned about the sudden jump to semi-angst... but, I had to make him get closer to Kagura somehow! Don't worry, Ohyama's future looks bright... enough. :D

Many thanks to Rushia, who was my only critic. Incidentally: the "Boris" mentioned in the previous chapter is Greek, yes, but his name is simply a reference to a Japanese band; it's not supposed to be a Greek name. I'm not that ignorant... jeez!