While I'm in the mood for ranting, I just want to tell everyone that I sincerely want people who write fanfictions for Naruto to take a break.
Nothing is wrong with Naruto (except I think it's crap, but I'm not complaining about the fanfics in particular because some of them are quite good), but it's by far the most popular. And there's nothing wrong with being popular EXCEPT the fact that the closest to its number of fictions written is less than half. Then the third closest is less than a fifth. I'm not making that up.
Go love on some other anime! (There's plenty, though I regret to say, there's not plenty of good anime. It doesn't matter because Naruto is littered with cliches as New York is littered with filth!)
(But before you go to love on another crappy anime, tell me what's wrong with these numbers)
Fanfiction's top three regarding anime/manga section in terms of stories posted (when I wrote this chapter, which is a long ways before when I'll post it, but the idea's gonna be the same):
Naruto: 280,236
Inuyasha: 100,372
Bleach: 56, 841
There is something wrong here.
:
::
:::
::::
:::::
Mayuri walked into the room calmly, looking as he had before his most recent make-over. The old look of the scientist seemed strange to Hanataro after seeing the captain so often in his get-up, clad in a headdress which hugged the sides of his face and golden teeth. He didn't seem half as angry as he had been when he walked into the room, though that wasn't to say he was completely calm. The reptilian eyes of his examined the room leisurely, Nemu standing at the doorway until she was told to go away. Those bright eyes took their time before falling on Hanataro. "Boy... Do you have any words to say to me?"
Taking a deep breath and looking back to Nemu for some type of guidance, though receiving none, Hanataro hesitantly answered. "N-no, sir."
"I will be patient with you this once," he said lowly, walking past Hanataro to a table filled with files and papers, sorting through them casually. "The correct answer to what I asked would be an apology of sorts."
Whose advice was he to follow? Ikkaku had told him to look out for himself, and he certainly didn't want to apologize to Mayuri under any circumstance. But he thought of what Nemu had said as well. Was Ikkaku wrong in trying to make him stronger if it would result in death? What was he supposed to do?
"Well, what are you going to say?" Mayuri asked, spiritual pressure rising dangerously.
"I apologize," Hanataro replied lowly and bowed.
"Very good then. I shouldn't have to deal with your stupidity much longer. Nemu!"
"Yes, Captain Kurotsuchi?" She asked, snapping out of a reverie.
"Akon. Bring him here, so he may grow a doll. I need you to go to that woman," he closed his fists. "Captain Unohana. Give her a report of all progress."
She bowed and left, Hanataro being left alone with the sadistic scientist. Involuntarily, his thoughts began to wonder, creating all sorts of cruelties that he would be subjected to. It wasn't until Mayuri's forceful voice boomed that he realized he was backing away from the man. "There are many things we must do today. Many things. So little time. If you continue this – this – this," he was too angry to speak. "Stop stalling every moment! You will speak clearly and answer, and stop with your pathetic fear. If you are truly afraid, then you are smart. That is good. You should fear me, because I am the type to be afraid of. But you will not waste my time."
"S-sir?"
"Stop stuttering! You're worthless! Go," he pointed to one of the thick metal doors. "Into that room. My equipment I need is there."
"I-i-"
"Go!" He waited as Hanataro made no motion before he realized the own fallacy in his logic. "You're so small," he said softly. "You couldn't open that door."
"R-r-right," Hanataro stammered, unconsciously taking a few more steps away from the frightening figure.
"Of course, of course, of course," he mumbled to himself, going over to the door and pulling it open with his good arm effortlessly. It, unlike any of the other larger doors, creaked horribly, ready to give under its own weight at any moment. "It became weak. Surely rust hasn't set in just yet," he held the door open with his right shoulder, though it seemed to cause him pain, as he inspected the hinges. "Hanataro, I cannot see without a light. Come in here, three steps to your left there is a switch. Turn it on."
Following orders, albeit reluctantly, Hanataro did as he was told, noticing as soon as he walked in there was an overpowering stench of disinfectant and something else that he could not identify. At least not with it mixing seamlessly with the cleaning supplies. The floor had puddles, though all very shallow because the floor was so even that there were no recesses that any amount of liquid could gather in excess. He turned on the lights, which flickered on from a very low intensity to being so bright that it hurt his eyes. If they hadn't flickered, he might have lost his ability to see for several minutes, he thought.
He wished he would've lost his ability to see. A plethora of labeled corpses laid about the room, the floor being wet with a bluish liquid that he assumed was a special agent which made the bodies keep well in the room somehow, because though many of the bodies were dated for death months ago none were in advanced state of decay. They were, for the most part, humanoid, but all of them had something which differed them from actual humans.
Some had growths of horns, extra appendages, limbs, even some foliage. Some seemed as if they were partially hollow, others looked like they were hybrids of animal and human, some just beast upon beast molded into a single body. There were neatly labeled boxes, tags on each corpse naming them with numbers, embalming fluids abound, as well as ten or twelve sets of surgical appliances so several could work at the dissections at once here.
Hanataro felt as if his time at the riots had only been a poor precursor for this. Maybe the hollow there was inspired by the hopeless and restless faces on these corpses.
The carnage that he'd seen before was disgusting, but it didn't hurt him as much as to see how heartless this was. There was cruel intent where he'd went in the higher numbered districts of North Rukongai, the hollow loved to kill and to create macabre displays that no human should ever think of. But this, to Hanataro, was worse. These creatures had only been given life in this laboratory to die, and their death was documented as research, just like finding a new species of bird would be. Creating these things and killing them was a part-time occupation for the people in this building, and it was a project in which little interest was generated, if Mayuri was any representation of those who frequented this room. He was more concerned with the sound the door had made than all these creature which were sprawled about on cold operation tables.
He wanted to scream, but he could not. He wanted to hit Mayuri, but he didn't dare. He wanted to help these things, but what better for them than an end of their meaningless life? He wanted to run, but his legs wouldn't move.
"It hasn't rusted over," Hanataro heard Mayuri's uninterested mumbling from where he stood only a few paces down from him. The words seemed so far away though, Hanataro was in his own world right now, and as he stood in the impossibly white room, he heard drops hit the already wet floor. It took him a moment to realize it was his own tears.
"Boy, tell me if – wait! Are you crying?"
Hanataro didn't answer.
"Why are you crying?"
Nothing.
"You useless-" he stopped himself. "The scent. It's bothering your eyes. You aren't used to it. That must be it," he playfully hit the top of his head as if he'd just said the most obvious thing in the world. But as he looked at Hanataro, he noticed that this was one of the rare times when he was wrong. "You are crying. From being sad. Why are you sad? These things were born to be put under a scalpel, you should be happy that their purpose is fulfilled! What is wrong with you? And everyone in your division? Pathetic!" The door creaked, putting more pressure on Mayuri's arm and causing him to cry out in pain.
He stepped further into the room so her would be out of the path of the door, letting the broken hunk of metal fall into place. It wasn't his job to fix it. It was his job to study Hanataro and then send the moron back to his motherly captain.
The ocean blue eyes that Mayuri found so sentimental – so annoying, still looked on in horror of the sight. He was too sympathetic. He should have never come here, Mayuri realized, instantly seeing he should have known that the boy was too weak in the mind to see greatness in front of his very eyes, and because he did not understand greatness he became afraid. So very natural for the undeveloped, Mayuri thought.
Oh well, now was the time to be patient again. If only to have Hanataro cooperate, he'd tolerate stupidity for a while. "Lay on the empty table," he pointed to an operation table and went through a few drawers, finding what he wanted in his own time. There was a special syringe in his hand when he turned and a sphygmomannometer, or at least what appeared to be one, being held up between his elbow and body. Hanataro hadn't moved.
"On the table, now," he said lowly, threat lacing his voice.
"I-i-"
Mayuri couldn't take another moment of argument, mainly because he didn't deal with refusal well – or at all. Within moments, he had Hanataro knocked out and lying on the table to do as he had to and get on with his day. There were too many things still to be done.
:
::
:::
::::
:::::
