"That looks about done," Sorata muttered to himself, writing the last of the algorithm. It was around twelve pm on a Friday night, and instead of partying or going out with friends like most teenagers of his age would, he spent the night working on one section of his game. NPC and enemy patterns, that is. It was a fairly basic one, not too complicated, considering this was his third or forth time making one, and that ninety-percent of it was stolen straight from a game design manual. The other ten percent...
Sorata: How does this look?
Ryuunosuke: Personally, I think it sucks. But it'll do for now.
Sorata: ...a hint of encouragement would be nice?
Ryuunosuke: I am encouraging you. I'm looking at your algo after all.
Sorata: Alright alright. So what now?
Ryuunosuke: Now you should work on your asset box. If you're going for something lo-poly then-
Sorata looked over to his right. Mashiro was half-dead and stumbled over to his bed, where she promptly passed out.
"Goodness me...what am I going to do with you...," Sorata mumbled, like a parent who caught his daughter coming home past curfew. "Did you brush your teeth?"
Mashiro gave a wobbly thumbs up, before her arm gave out and began to hibernate for the weekend. Her body felt like jello after the...incident with her and Aoyama. Sorata smiled, and went back to his work.
Ryuunosuke: -you could probably hire someone to make them for you.
Sorata: Hmm...I'm strapped for cash though. And I don't really have time to work. I promised the backers that I would have an alpha version of the game for them by next week.
Ryuunosuke: Maybe you could get Mashiro to create assets for you? She's good at drawing manga right?
Sorata: I don't follow.
Ryuunosuke: Me neither. But if you can't hire people, maybe you could do some odd jobs in exchange for assets? Know anybody?
Sorata leaned back in his chair, and let an idea sprout in his mind.
Sorata: Mashiro...maybe she could create coloured assets sure...but her style would be completely different to my intended game.
Sorata: And what would I do about the provided concept art? Wouldn't that be bait-and-switching?
(Sorata provided his early-access game testers / investors with concept art on a game design website, where they can fund his game early and receive a free copy of his game.)
Sorata: And what would I do for Mashiro
Sorata's eyes widened. He took one look at the sleeping girl in his bed, and back at the screen. He knew what Mashiro wanted.
Ryuunosuke: What would you do for Mashiro?
Sorata: Don't worry about it. Logging off. Thanks for the help.
Ryuunosuke: See you.
Sorata logged off the messaging service and shut down his computer. He sorted through his work, piling them and organizing them so that they would be easier to find tomorrow, when he would finish up the algorithms and sequences.
"That'll be okay for now, at least with Ryuunosuke's help. But what about the assets...?," he thought.
He took one last look at the sleeping beauty in his bed (well more like drunk and hungover beauty) dimly lit by the moonlight, and laid down in his futon. He had a semblance of a plan in his head.
1. Finish the algorithm.
2. Convince Mashiro, with her artistic genius to help him with asset creation for his game. In addition, bribe her with money which could possibly be made from the game she helped make.
3. Make sure the assets work in sync with code, no bugs or anything.
4. Polish leveling systems and other niche, special systems which help the game stand out from the rest.
5. Submit game to investors.
6. Audition game to Japan's Indie Game of the Month and hopefully get some calls back.
He frowned. Although this plan did seem okay, he learned the hard way that most thing in life do not go as expected. But he was willing to accept failure after failure after failure: so long as there was a chance of success. He was determined that he would make a great game, and be widely known in the gaming industry as the best game designer in the industry.
He smiled at the fantasy, of him wearing a casual hoodie and sweatpants, giving a phenomenal speech to gamers, investors and press alike, about his new game, somewhere down the future. But, he was surprised when to the left of him, was...
Mashiro Shinna. Presenting additional details of the art to the audience. How the colours represent certain game mechanics, how the art was optimised for a wide range of different hardware for maximum compatibility. And the audience had sparkles in their eyes.
"That...would be nice...," he thought, before drifting off peacefully to slumber.
"Juniorrr!"
Sorata rustled annoyingly in his bed, turning over so the morning light wouldn't hit his eyes.
"It's Saturday...," he thought in his barely-conscious state. "Go away."
"JUNIOR-KUN!," Misaki shouted in his ear. She was straddling the poor game designer, who had cocooned himself in a blanket to shield himself from the outside world. "My my...getting frisky with Mashiron, are you now?"
Sorata barely opened his eyes and turned to the woman straddling him. Then he turned even more to see a naked Mashiro sleeping next to him, without a blanket thanks to him. Luckily, the morning sun was hitting the bed, so it felt moderately warm.
He had grown not to be too surprised at this scenario, considering it had happened every day of the week. But he wondered how he got up to the bed? Didn't he sleep in a futon?
"Misaki-senpai...," he muttered, wanting to go back to dreamland. "I'm sleeping off my death march. Go away please." (karoshi: death march: overwork.)
"Junior-kun," Misaki whispered sultrily. "How long did you last?"
"I can assure you, with one-hundred percent certainty, that we had not done anything like that yesterday," he mumbled, head in his pillow. He felt Mashiro snuggle up closer to the source of the voice.
"Did ya at least cop a feel?," she giggled, motioning her hands like she was doing so.
"..."
Sorata ignored the eccentric animator, and rested his eyes. It wouldn't take long for him to go back to sleep...
"JUNIOR-KUN!," Misaki yelled. "DON'T FALL ASLEEP! WE'RE HAVING A BEACH EPISODE TODAY!"
"...beach..."
"...episode...?," Mashiro finished.
The two sleep-deprived creatures slowly sat up and stared at their senior.
"Hm hm! What do you say?," Misaki said, stretching out her hand.
"Sounds like...," Sorata muttered, eyes closed.
"Too much work," Mashiro muttered, and the two flopped back down in bed.
After a long while of back-and-forth, Misaki eventually managed to get the duo out of bed and into her car, where they drove off towards the beach. Her car, despite being a five-seater, held six occupants.
Misaki, Jin, Ryuunosuke (took at least an hour of negotiation to get out of his room), Aoyama, Mashiro and Sorata.
Sensei, Himemiya, Hase and Miyahara were riding in a separate car, and Rita was going to be there shortly.
Mashiro and Sorata were still somewhat nodding off, sleeping off their 'work' from last night, and were the topic of today's car conversation.
"Those two have really gotta stop working," Jin started the conversation off.
"Hahaha! 'Working'...look at them! They're like too cats in heat!," Misaki cracked, making inappropriate gestures with her hands.
Aoyama blushed and sat on her hands, not wanting to remember what happened yesterday.
"Oh ho ho?," Misaki mused looking in the back mirror. "Does our resident Aoyama know something?"
"W-What...?! N-N-No w-w-way!"
She couldn't keep a straight face if her life depended on it.
"Three stutters in a row! She's keeping secrets!," Misaki announced. "Don't worry, what ever high school 'gatherings' you three are having, I won't pry. I have my Jin after all~!"
"I love you too honey," Jin hummed. "But aren't you even a little curious as to Sorata's technique?"
"My my, having adulterous thoughts are we now?"
The married couple held a conversation as smoothly as a flowing river, while Sorata and Mashiro passed out, and Aoyama and Ryuunosuke were minding their own business, occupying themselves with a play script and a video game respectively. Realistically, Aoyama was simply reading letters on a page, but her mind was preoccupied with other matters.
"Why that snivelling...'work'...yeah right! You went down to Kanda-kun's room after you touched yourself and fucked him silly didn't you! You...you.."
Aoyama noticed her feeling of burning jealousy towards the blonde and gripped her script tighter.
"Why...why can't it have been me...Kanda-kun...I love you and...and-"
"Ponytail?," Ryuunosuke asked. "You alright?"
"Huh?! Yeah! Yeah, just uhh...tired. That's all," Aoyama declared.
"Uh huh. I've heard that one before. Come one. Spill. It'll be more efficient that way," Ryunnosuke flatly stated, still playing his game.
"Huh? I thought you didn't care about what others felt...," Aoyama said. "I-I mean, not trying to be rude or anything."
Ryunnosuke sighed. "Women are weird. Listen, I just thought that what Sorata said to me...you know when we had that argument with Rita? That I didn't need to be so harsh or blunt or whatever? You know what I'm trying to get at ponytail. So hurry up. Contrary to popular belief, I don't wanna spend my Saturday surrounded by doom and gloom."
"Jesus. As blunt as a hammer," Aoyama thought.
"I'm...I'm just...," she whispered so that the married couple wouldn't hear. "...jealous."
"Yeah. I could tell," he replied.
The married couple continued bickering on without a care in the world, while Ryuunosuke was still mashing buttons on his console.
"..."
"That's it?," she complained. "I could tell?"
"What did you want me say? It'll be alright and everything will go your way? I know you know what you have to do ponytail."
"...confess..."
"Yeah. So we can put this matter behind us. And then you could focus on your voice acting or whatever. Jeez, women can be dense sometimes."
"..."
"S-Sorry," Ryuunosuke muttered.
"Don't be...! Thank you, Ryuunosuke," Aoyama sputtered awkwardly.
"Oooookay! We. Are. Here!"
Aoyama shook both Mashiro and Sorata awake, and the two got out with an aggravated groan. Jin opened the trunk and got out bags of goodies necessary for a proper Saturday beach trip. Here was a few things included in the bags:
- Swimsuits (duh)
- Towels
- Sunscreen
- Beach ball and other play things
- Meat and vegetables for a cookout
- One watermelon
- Cooking equipment
Looking around, Misaki admiring the view, Aoyama stretching and the two lovebirds talking to each other, Jin snuck a couple bottles of expensive wines and champagnes into his day-bag, planning to drink them with the group around a nice bonfire. This really was a beach episode.
"Oi! Sensei!"
"I have a headache..."
"Did you sleep at that guys house again, sensei?"
"I did not!"
"Guys, there's a watermelon here!"
"Ryuunosuke~! Come here darling!~"
"Gah! G-Get away from me you...you..."
"Hmm? You beautiful foreigner?"
With a yawn, Sorata stuck the umbrella into the sand, set two blankets and set down both his and Mashiro's stuff. He didn't understand how Ryunnosuke could sleep so late into the night without...
Oh. He couldn't. He was sleeping peacefully, sitting up with his arms crossed, as Rita stared at him blissfully, laying on the sand. Sorata looked around to see what everyone was doing.
Misaki was playing in the water with Jin, abandoning a half-built sand sculpture. Sensei was sunbathing in the sun, drinking a lemonade. Aoyama, Himemiya, Hase and Miyahara was playing some messed up version of beach volleyball.
He smiled and laid down on the towel next to a sleeping Mashiro.
"Ah...man...can't beat this atmosphere though. I should go outside more," Sorata thought blissfully, hands behind his head. "Now...about the game...I-"
"-Kanda-kun!," Aoyama called. "Wanna play volleyball?"
"Ah. I guess the game could wait," he thought as he got up.
"Gahhhhhah!," Aoyama sighed as she leaned back in the sand. "That' er fun! Come...come here, Kandaaa-kun..."
"You had to bring alcohol?," Ryunnosuke deadpanned disapprovingly.
"Come on dear, a little drink won't hurt!`," Rita purred.
"D-D-Don't call me that!"
"Youuuu! Fucking...cheapskate! I meeessaged you and you replied with...with...what...wwwhat was it again?," a very drunk sensei slurred.
"Aoyama...I can see your errr...ahem!." Sorata said, wobbling back and forth.
As you could probably tell, everyone was hammered.
And it wasn't because of the alcohol that Jin brought. Misaki thought it would be a good idea to drink beer bought from a convenience store with her underage kouhai's instead of soda. It didn't seem like Jin minded however. The married couple had gone off hand in hand, walking along the beach.
Whilst everyone was having their own drunk conversations (conversations would be putting it generously, it was more like incomprehensible rants about their own problems, not bothering to listen or reply to whatever the other party said), a very drunk Aoyama crawled on top of a slightly less drunk Sorata, intentionally revealing her 'prized goods' to him.
"...say...Kanda-kunnnn...," she whispered sultrily. "...do you find me attractive...?"
"W-Well...yeah...I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about you like that..."
Mashiro looked over at the two, glaring at Aoyama.
Aoyama...I will do something if you even think about it.
Aoyama, now feeling more confident than ever, flared her chest out and tilted her head. She had worn the same bikini that Sorata said that she looked pretty in.
"Then...," she temptingly purred. "...do you wanna do it?"
Sorata began to feel blood rushing to his lower body.
"W-W-What...!," he stammered. He grabbed her arms and looked around. Mashiro was staring right at him. "Look..I think we've had a bit too much to drink-"
"Ya' know...you'reee soooooo cute, when you're nervous...Sorata...Sorata~!"
Both Sorata and Mashiro tensed up when she moaned his name, in an effort to seduce him.
"Aoyama."
Aoyama looked up behind her and felt the wrath radiating off of Mashiro's body. She could see the red in her eyes, screaming: "DO NOT TOUCH SORATA."
"...gah!," she spat, alarmed at her expression. Although she was scared, she was drunk. And Mashiro was not. "...what...what do you want."
"Please get off Sorata."
The two glared at each other.
"...why should I Mashiro?," Aoyama quietly asked. "You two aren't...you two aren't...dating...or anything. Right?"
"We are not dating, Aoyama," she responded, matching her volume.
"Wwweeellll...in that case...I think Im'ma stay. Thank you very much."
She slowly turned around and drew a line up Sorata's chest. He noticed a mix of pain and anger in her eyes, and attempted to sit up, but was quickly pinned by her.
"Aoyama."
She sighed and turned around. "What is it now-"
*THUD!*
Aoyama was suddenly shoved back in the sand. She had just been shoved off Sorata by Mashiro, who was trying her best to hide her boiling rage under her typical cool demeanour. That just made her all the more frightening.
The group turned their heads and went silent. All that could be heard was the pop and crackle of the bonfire.
"...f-fuck...you...," Aoyama muttered, about to break.
"N-Now now you two...!," Rita laughed nervously. "There's no need to-"
"...you...fucking...whore."
"Don't."
Aoyama stood up to match Mashiro's now pained but furious expression.
"You fucked him. Didn't you?," Aoyama growled in a quiet volume, although everyone heard what she said. "You touched yourself. Went straight down to his room. And-"
"Aoyama," Mashiro snarled.
"..."
"...you don't deserve him."
Mashiro slapped Aoyama in the face, which caused her to tumble to the ground. But soon she was up, and a vicious fight ensued before anyone could blink. Pieces of ripped yellow and brown hair fell to the ground as they fought standing up, eventually leading to Mashiro getting tripped under Aoyama's body weight, and then receiving multiple punches to the face.
"FUCK...YOU! YOU-"
She was cut off by Sorata pulling her off Mashiro and holding her under the arms.
"YOU PERFECT BITCH..!," she screamed. Everyone had now got in between the two and began trying to break the fight up. Rita attended to her friend's face, angrily glaring holes at the pony-tailed girl.
"WHY?!," Aoyama screamed louder. "WHY DO YOU GET EVERYTHING?! WHY DO YOU GET EVERYTHING AND I GET NOTHING?!"
Sorata pulled her back. "Aoyama-"
"IT'S NOT FAIR...!"
She fell to the ground and tears began falling like rain.
"It's...not...fair...," she cried.
"You're right."
Everyone turned to look over at Mashiro, who stood up and had a bleeding nose.
"You're right," she said. "...but you know..."
"I NEVER WANTED TO BE LIKE THIS YOU KNOW!," Mashiro screamed. "I NEVER WANTED TO BE PERFECT!"
Sensei dropped whatever was in her hands, and everyone stepped back at the sheer volume that the girl produced. It was like a a shock wave from a fighter jet.
"I...I...I just...wanted to be normal...," she sobbed. "I just wanted to be like you..."
Mashiro helplessly fell to her knees, letting the stream of tears fall from down her chin.
"...you're right...," she wept. "...I don't deserve him...I don't-"
"...you two...," Sorata growled. "...are you out of your fucking minds...?"
Aoyama and Mashiro looked up slightly.
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MINDS?!," he hollered. "Fighting over who loves who...over who deserves what...guess what? It's just...the way things are. As shitty as they could be. But you two...fucking...fighting? I THOUGHT YOU TWO WERE BETTER THAN THAT!"
A couple people recoiled back at the sound of Sorata screaming. There was a tense silence that ensued after that, supplemented by occasional sniffs and cries of sadness.
Aoyama wiped her tears with her forearm, and slowly stood up. She ambled over to her friend, who was clutching at the sand with clenched teeth. She knelt down in front of her.
"Mashiro."
She sniffled and looked up to meet Aoyama's melancholy eyes.
"I'm sorry," she breathed. "It ain't your fault. It...ain't your fault that you're born with a genius brain and a fucking model body, hair to feet."
Mashiro lunged at Aoyama, wrapping her arms around her and sobbing into her shoulder angrily. Aoyama also began desperately crying uncontrollably into Mashiro's back, incoherently babbling parts of sentences.
"You...perfect...I don't...why?!...why are we...like this...?"
"You two really are out of your fucking minds," Jin declared, holding hands with Misaki.
"Time out you guys," Misaki said, making the gesture with her hands as she walked over to the sobbing duo. "Time to go home and sober up."
"Hey...Kanda-kun...?," Aoyama breathed tiredly. She had just been bathed by Mashiro, and was about to be tucked in to bed for the night. "Can you drop me a bottle?"
He smiled at the old reference from when they first met. (Drop me a bottle: do me a favour) "What is it Aoyama?," Sorata replied quietly.
"...don't ever...ever...let me get all...touchy feely with you...ok?," she whispered. "No matter how much I want you."
"...I promise, Aoyama," he said, wrapping his pinky finger around hers. "...but...why..?"
Aoyama smiled and got up out of bed to hug her long-time friend. "You really are dense, aren't ya Kanda-kun."
Sorata gently caressed her flowing hair, her ponytail undone for the night.
"...I love you. You dope. But I want you to be with Mashiro."
Sorata blushed at the drunk confession Aoyama made.
"...don't...forget that...unlike me...when I wake up...," she mumbled as she loosened her grip and flopped her head down on the pillow.
