Thursday, Nov 20: Midday.
[Hey geezer,] the unexpected text from his youngest comrade read. [You work for Sasaki Pompoko Delivery, right? One of my classmates said he wants to shop local but your website's trash and doesn't say anything useful.]
Having already pulled over on his bike route to make a delivery of some confidential business papers, Nobuo Akagi saw no real reason not to take a moment to give a response. "Part of me's honestly surprised that Aoyagi even has friends at school," he quietly muttered to himself as he set about running damage control for his boss's failure to give a damn about IT… not that he was really that much better, admittedly.
"I'm certainly not going to complain, though – especially if I can get that bonus for bringing in a new customer."
Oh, the merchandise he could splurge on with that bonus…! Should he get a Sentai Robo as big as he is, like the GingaiOh the Prof– or rather, Owner had at Secret Base?! Or maybe an Aoi-tan dakimakura to cuddle with every night would be better?!
Alas!, the courier thought as he locked up his bike and stepped into a fancy office building, making for the front elevator. What sadistic choices capitalism so gleefully forces on its lower classes…!
As the elevator opened up and a pair of quite serious-looking salarymen emerged, however, the hot-blooded champion of Akihabara's justice quickly schooled his features. Now isn't the time for that, Nobuo Akagi! This is a mission as critical as any you've ever faced in your 29 years of life! Failure is not an option!
Allowing the employees to pass him by with a polite greeting they didn't bother to return, Nobuo quickly slid into the elevator and pressed the button for his destination… only to immediately have to fight back another surge of giddiness.
Nobuo had tread this path almost enough times to count it down by the second, had replayed past experiences enough to have a complete three-dimensional route fully engraved into his mind.
The elevator went ding as it reached his destination, and as Nobuo gently stepped around the filing cabinet with a fern on it –
– there she was, the most beautiful and elegant woman on the planet in his eyes.
The Dulcinea to his Don Quixote, the Orihime to his Hikoboshi, the Juliet to his Rom – actually, scratch that last one! A double suicide ending is the last thing anyone wants!
With the most precious dimples at either end of her soft pink lips when she smiled, hair of darkest brown like soil brimming with fertility, a white business blouse over a black camisole hinting at small but adorable breasts, sensuous hips concealed by a simple indigo skirt with white flowers on it that ended at the knee and overlapped with black stockings… Sayaka Honiden might well have been a goddess made into flesh.
Tactically holding position behind the cabinet, Nobuo took a brief moment to pat straight any of his hair that might have gotten wind-tossed from his bicycling and to double-check that his breath hadn't suddenly become a weapon of mass destruction or anything. Once satisfied, he 'reset' his entrance as if he totally hadn't been standing there like a weirdo for the past ten seconds.
"Good morning," he called out with appropriate volume and cheer. "Sasaki Pompoko Delivery is at your service!"
Sayaka perked up in her chair as if the sun had suddenly burst through a cloudy sky and banished the dreariness of the day, before turning to face him with a warm smile the merest glimpse of which soothed the aches of Nobuo's blue-collar soul like a balm passed down from Heaven itself.
Gliding across the office floor to meet him, Sayaka gently pressed herself against Nobuo and dreamily gazed up into his eyes. Indeed, the wide open night sky filled with brilliant stars could have presented itself next to her and been found wanting in comparison! "It's just like always," she asked with a soft gentle voice that would tame in an instant the mightiest and most cantankerous of wild beasts. "Right?"
"Of course," he coolly and suavely replied.
As their pulsing heartbeats began to synchronize, Nobuo leaned down to meet Sayaka's delectable parted lips –
"You need me to stamp the proof of delivery, right?"
And in that instant, Nobuo knew that he'd actually puckered up like an absolute dumbass caught up in his blissful lovestruck delusion. Hurriedly straightening himself back up, the courier suppressed an impulse to sigh in relief as he saw that not only did Sayaka have her back turned as she went rifling through her desk drawers, but that the rest of the people in the office were engrossed in their computers or phones to have noticed him being in any way untoward.
Oh kind and benevolent Aka Ranger, he thought as if praying to God, thank you from the bottom of my heart for watching over your unworthy disciple in this hour of foolish need!
Awkwardly turning away to better salvage his dignity before anyone could see the self-inflicted damage to it, Nobuo happened to glance out the window and spot a high-rise mural advertising Aoi-tan's upcoming new movie – and only a herculean force of will stopped him from immediately geeking out over the newly-announced limited theatrical release.
"Hm? Is there something out the window?"
All but jumping at Sayaka's confused voice behind him, Nobuo's thoughts were immediately racing at hundreds of miles per hour. Damn, I was staring for too long and got caught!
"Oh no no no no, I was just –" Come up with an excuse, damn you! "– double-checking the weather! I thought I saw a storm cloud in the distance and wanted to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me!"
"Man," the courier said to himself as he escaped back into the open streets of the city, reclaiming the faceless protection that came with being a needle in the human haystack that was Tokyo's pedestrian population. "I'm not sure I've ever been that lucky; if my secret identity as an otaku were to ever be exposed…"
"Even at 29 years old, you still religiously follow Super Sentai and anime about middle school girls? I… I couldn't ever see myself with the kind of delusional man who says things like 'anime girls are my wife!'"
"...is more likely than not along the lines of what she'd say," Nobuo lamented with a sigh. Being in love sure is tough, huh?
Staring down at his empty basket showing that there were no more deliveries for the day, Nobuo briefly wondered whether it would be worth calling the company to try and beg for another route. A little extra income definitely wouldn't hurt his poor, pitiful abused bank account…
"...bah! Aoyagi won't be getting out of school for at least another few hours," he noted with a glance at his watch, "so calling the team together's no good anyway, and it's not late enough to go drinking, either."
I'm sure there aren't any left, he thought as he dialed the company number, but I really don't have much better to do right now.
"I just finished the route, and I wanted to see if there might have been any left over deliveries I could come back and take up!"
"Akagi? Ugh, why did it have to be you with such perfect timing?! Whatever… get your stupid worthless otaku ass back here yesterday, there are two priority orders that just came in and need to be out the door last week – or else!"
Nobuo's manager, Sasaki Pompoko herself, immediately hung up rather than waste any time on letting him respond.
"Tch, so angry and domineering… I bet she's compensating for how short she is."
Back at Secret Base, Hiroyo Hakase was spending her lunch in a back room staring at the unrelenting cascades of hexadecimal code on her screen as she mulled over Nobuo's idea from the night before. "An emergency rapid mobilization feature… I can't deny that allowing remote or isolated activation would improve the system's performance exponentially for data-gathering purposes," she huffed, "but it's not like I can just run the information sharing through satellite internet. The necessary transmission bandwidth between MMZs is just too robust for them to operate more than a dozen meters or so apart from each other…"
Leaning back in her chair and sipping a cup of coffee, the dual cafe owner and independent scientist closed her eyes to give them a break from the harsh light of the screen.
One possible solution had already presented itself, of course, but–
Do I really want to run the risk of hiring Hitoshi Kobe again? Even if he's a genuine miracle worker at the keyboard, it's going to be almost impossible to involve him any further without exposing him to the Akibarangers' true nature… and since he's not invested in it himself, there's not much reason for him to refrain from prematurely sharing it with the team.
"Do I want to prioritize efficiency?" she asked herself. "Or security?"
"AH-CHOO!"
Kosukegawa jumped in alarm at the unexpected sneeze from next to him, only for another to immediately follow after it. "Jeez, dude, are you okay? Coming down with a cold or something?"
Shaking his head, a sniffling Hitoshi Kobe hurriedly slipped into his PE uniform shirt. "Ugh… knowing my luck, someone's talking trash about me."
"Oh come on," Kosukegawa said with an awkward smile. "That's just a superstition."
"Not to be a jerk, but… why did you even bother?"
As the bespectacled boy's earlier haunting question bubbled up like a disease, however, Kosukegawa couldn't look right at him any longer to watch his reaction. I… I just don't get it. He's just a guy my age, but he sounded like he was really okay with dying… I know it's messed up and I should probably tell somebody, but I don't wanna screw up and accidentally push him into doing something stupid. I bet Kannami would know what to do…
"I can't believe they're making us do PE right after lunch," Hitoshi grumbled, already looking a bit green.
"Well… just do what you can, alright dude?"
Hitoshi didn't say anything to that, and Kosukegawa anxiously scratched the back of his head to try and force an idea to spawn.
"So, um… you might not realize this since you don't come to school much," Kosukegawa began, trying to pick out his words like the solution to a puzzle he subconsciously knew was too advanced for him. Maybe if I put myself down a bit and act like I'm the one who's desperately reaching out, that could make it easier for him to make a connection? "But… well, I'm honestly kind of a loser, and my mom gets really happy on the rare occasion I can bring a friend home to hang out with me…"
Trailing off, Kosukegawa felt tempted to hit his head against the locker he'd just stuffed his normal uniform into. I really didn't have to embellish that as much as I was expecting…!
Resting his forehead against the cool steel, the young man was surprised when he felt a friendly pat on the back. "I can't today," Hitoshi said with an audible smile. "I've got someone waiting for me to come home."
Turning to look at Hitoshi, Kosukegawa felt his spirits lift a little. "Not today, huh? Then… maybe we should trade contact information?"
Before the bespectacled boy could readily decide, the locker room door boomed open as the PE teacher, a man in his 40s whose build and buzz cut suggested he was trying to imitate John Cena, stuck his head in and roared at them.
"KOBE! KOSUKEGAWA! TEN SECONDS TO GET OUT HERE BEFORE I COME IN THERE AND DRAG YOU OUT, YOU SLACKERS!"
"W-we'll be right out, Mr. Yamazaki!"
Seeing that the pair seemed cowed into compliance, the teacher gave them an imperious nod and let the door swing shut per his warning.
Wasting no further time, the nerdly duo hurriedly tapped their smartphones together to swap contact information, closed their lockers, and emerged out into the gymnasium, joining a few dozen other young men and women their age.
Slightly calmer now that all students had been accounted for, the PE teacher crossed his arms with a nod. "All right everyone, you know the drill! Five minutes of stretching! Then push-ups and crunches! And then run ten laps around the gymnasium!" It's a fucked up world out there, and no brat under my learning tree is gonna be unable to at least run for their life if I have anything to say about it! "Kosukegawa! You're all buddy-buddy with Kobe now, so you get to guide him through the routine!"
Class seemed to pass by in a haze as the assembled students all got started, most of them being long used to their teacher's conditioning.
…most of them, anyway.
I'm surrounded by demons, Hitoshi thought as he all but collapsed onto the floor halfway into his first lap, already a sweaty and exhausted mess gasping for breath. Within seconds, a group of girls including one Kimika Asou passed by him on their fifth lap, all in their PE uniform of bloomers and pale shirts that were starting to cling in the room's humidity.
At least the view helps a little with the pain and humiliation, hehehe…
Before too long, a panting Kosukegawa slowed to a stop next to him, and dutifully dragged his friend out of the track path to reduce the risk of anyone trampling or tripping on him.
Finally, a weary but slightly euphoric Kosukegawa thought, someone more out of shape than I am! I'm not the worst in the class anymore! …wait, only being second-worst isn't something I should feel that proud of either.
Rolling Hitoshi onto his side just in the off chance he might throw up or something, Kosukegawa patted his back. "You gonna be okay?"
I got a glimpse of Asou's tight butt in her bloomers, and that wave of bouncing breasts as the girls were all running… "Believe me," Hitoshi gasped out with a chuckle that almost immediately turned into a coughing fit, "this is one of my better days."
A looming shadow fell on the pair. "What's wrong, slackers? Let me guess, dehydrated?"
Not waiting for an answer, Mr. Yamazaki stooped to inspect the downed student. "Hmph!" Dead meat walking! If I had any reason to expect he'd show up more than once or twice a month, I'd write this damn nerd up with an individual conditioning plan… "Kosukegawa, help this fool to the nurse's office once he can walk. In the meantime," he growled while shoving a bottle of Pocari Sweat into Hitoshi's hand, "you drink up as soon as you can comfortably swallow. You're sweating like a pig in a slaughterhouse, and that means you need to replenish your electrolytes."
As Hitoshi took a few moments to recover himself and unscrew the cap on his sports drink, Kosukegawa stood and briefly glanced around the rest of the gym to check if anyone else might have had a similar spill.
"I'm probably alright," Hitoshi muttered to the floor. "I just… don't normally move around that much."
Kosukegawa sighed, electing to get some cool-down exercises out of the way. "That's good to hear, but… Mr. Yamazaki's already gone off to set up the volleyball net, dude. Not sure why though, given that anyone who's serious about that sport tries to get into Shujin Academy."
Just as the words left his mouth and he was turning back to his friend, Kosukegawa's gaze landed on a nervous girl wearing cute glasses with her brown hair tied back in two pigtails as she tried to stay in the background of the team she'd been sorted into.
Whoa, hey… she's really cute! I don't recognize her, though… did she recently transfer in from another school? Or is this just the first time I've been paying enough attention to my surroundings in P.E. to really notice?
A series of loud gulps interrupted his train of thought, and Kosukegawa looked down to see that Hitoshi had completely emptied the drink he'd been given. Extending a hand to help him up, he asked, "Ready to go, Kobe?"
"I'm pretty sure I can get to the nurse's office on my own… it's not like I have a broken leg or anything like that."
"I know, but he asked me to take you and… well, I'm not trying to be a jerk, but the teacher probably thinks you'd just say 'screw it' and go home if I took my eyes off you."
Hitoshi flinched at the honest admission, before his lips turned up in a wry sneer at himself. "...well, I'm sure I can guess why."
As the mood turned a bit awkward, Hitoshi again let Kosukegawa help him up and together they left the gymnasium as the rest of the class resumed having fun without them.
"Not to be a jerk, but… why did you even bother?"
That damn question again, Kosukegawa thought with a frown. It keeps hanging around like a stupid ghost.
"Why would you put yourself at so much risk like that just for some loser you don't even know?!"
He definitely seems in better spirits than he did right then… he said he's got someone waiting at home for him, and he did thank me a little later for helping him out, and he even seemed like he was more concerned about me than himself, so does that mean that maybe he's not s–? But then, is that… maybe not anymore? Not yet? Or just not right now? Damn it… Kamen Rider Wizard could just defeat his despair at the root and turn it into hope, but how the heck am I supposed to make a difference here?
"...hey Kosukegawa, something got you upset?"
Kosukegawa blinked. "Huh?"
"You're all tensed up, and you've got your fists clenched pretty tight," Hitoshi noted. "If you had long nails like some girls do then you'd have probably cut your own hands open."
After a long moment, Kosukegawa decided to be honest. "This morning you acted like your life didn't matter. Anyone who cares enough to look can see that you're miserable, and not knowing how to help someone like that just… makes me mad."
"You can call it nosy," he choked out, blood boiling as tears welled up and fell down his face like rain. "Call it immature, even arrogant or controlling if you want, but–"
"I'd actually call it noble," Hitoshi whispered. "Maybe even superheroic, like you just stepped out of a Sunday morning cartoon."
"...eh?"
"It wasn't that I don't care about living," Hitoshi explained as he stepped clear of Kosukegawa's reach, choosing to first address his friend's initial point of concern. "Maybe that used to be the case, but… even if there's a lot of problems I'm not gonna talk about, I do still have reasons to get out of bed every day and push through to the next one. Even if they might be pathetic or petty, they're still mine. This morning when you helped me out…"
Turning to look him in the eye, Hitoshi scratched his cheek. "I was more just kind of… confused than anything else. I didn't expect anyone else in the real world to ever act like I mattered."
"...in the real world," Kosukegawa quietly repeated. "So I guess that means you're… only used to having friends online?"
"Something like that," Hitoshi said with a chuckle.
So he's got a lot of problems… but I guess it sounds like he's managing them alright by himself at the end of the day? "...so where do we go from here?"
"To the nurse's office, I guess. Even if Yamazaki isn't the Maneater, the last thing I need is to draw aggro from the staff."
"Yeah, alright. Let's go get you checked up on and then get back to class."
"...hey, Kosukegawa."
"Hm?"
"If you're really that concerned… then I'll come around tomorrow. So you can see for yourself that I didn't hang myself in the night."
He said that way too casually…! Does that mean he's thought about it before?!
Hitoshi grinned. "How's that sound, Kamen Rider Jesus?"
As the bespectacled boy began laughing, Kosukegawa could only imagine how embarrassed he must have looked. "Oh come on, now you're just making fun of me! Get back here and say uncle, you jerk!"
"You're gonna have to catch me first!"
"We just saw in class that that's gonna not be hard!"
As the boys started into a chase down the hallway, "Maneater" Nitta emerged into view from the staircase, having overheard everything from just out of sight. Pulling a silk cloth from his jacket pocket, the aging professor removed his glasses and took a moment to clean them. "...I'll give you boys a pass," he decided. "This time."
As the city skyscape turned orange with the setting sun, Kosukegawa trotted off Menjo High's grounds and made for the subway station..
Y'know, he typed into his phone. If you're much into computer stuff and ever get tired of the going-home club, the Subculture Research Society would be happy to have you aboard.
It was a minute or two before the message turned up as having been read, but once it did the reply wasn't long in coming.
[Subculture Research Society? Lol, are you saying our school has an Otaku Club?]
Some old guy got it going back around the turn of the century, actually… I don't really pay too much attention to the history, but I think his name was Akagi? Anyway, our club president's been trying for years to make his very own amateur tokusatsu movie, but we've never been able to manage it because of this problem or that.
[I've actually got some experience working with CGI – but since tokusatsu are mostly about strong practical effects and clever cinematography, I don't know that it'd really be that helpful to you guys.]
Well, Kosukegawa typed, the offer stands either way. If nothing comes up, I'll see you tomorrow?
[If not, I'll at least send you a text or something.]
"...didn't he say outright that he'd come earlier?" the boy asked himself with a frown. "Why's he keep skipping class so much anyway?"
"...even if there's a lot of problems I'm not gonna talk about…"
"Well, I guess there's only so much pushiness I can justify at once…"
At that moment, the screen on his phone dimmed as it went into power-saving mode, having dropped to the last 3% of its battery charge. "Eh, I guess it's just as well."
Passing by the Kamen Rider gashapon machine that had marked his route home for years, Kosukegawa reached into his pocket for whatever spare change he might've had left. "Just two hundred yen left," he muttered quietly. "Man, only enough for one pull… could this be the day I finally get the original TV version of Rider First?"
Breaking into a soft sweat, he inserted the pair of coins, turned the knob, and…!
"...aw man, another SHOCKER foot soldier? I've already got twenty of those guys… Well, I guess if I ever do get either of the original Riders, at least I'll have enough mooks to put them up against."
Slipping the collectible toy into his bookbag, Kosukegawa shook off the disappointment and stood up to go home–
"I'm sorry, but… I really need to go straight home…"
"Oh come on baby, one little ride won't hurt… I mean, it's not every day you get the chance to hop in a brand-new McLaren P1!"
–before turning to look over his shoulder at the commotion several meters behind him.
It's that girl from PE class, he realized with a start. If she was nervous before, she looks downright terrified now…
And who could blame her, when she was standing across from a guy over two meters tall with some tattoo around his forearm and decked out in bling like some kind of gangster?
"Please," the girl pleaded as she backed directly away from him, unwittingly stepping into a dead-end alley. "Just leave me alone…"
Shutting the door on an excruciatingly cool and sexy foreign car, the guy stalked forward with one hand in his pocket, the other waving around a lit cigarette. "Oho? I think you've got the wrong idea babe; I'm not a bad guy – how about I come over there and we get to know each other a little better?"
With Hitoshi and the truck earlier, Kosukegawa thought with a scowl, all I had to do was manage one lunge quick enough to make a difference. But this jerk… as big as he is, if I tried to step up there's no question that he'd just beat the snot out of me, and I don't even know that I could keep him busy long enough for the girl to run away. All I'd end up doing is becoming another victim, and I can't call the police because my phone's dead…
As if feeling judgmental eyes on him, the jerk turned to Kosukegawa with faint surprise that quickly turned into a sneer. "Got something you wanna say to me, pencil-neck?"
Contempt dripping from every greasy pore, he flicked his lit cigarette at Kosukegawa with enough aim to hit the boy in the face – and to Kosukegawa's shame, he flinched.
"That's what I thought. Good little boys mind their own business."
Accepting the humiliating dismissal for what it was, the boy turned his head and walked away, unable to do more than stew in his own powerlessness.
If I were strong, I could bring that guy to justice… but as small and weak as I am–
So caught up in his misery was he, that for several seconds Kosukegawa couldn't even see the sidewalk in front of his own feet despite looking right at it.
Between that, and dragging his feet from the heavy guilt of leaving his classmate to the older rich jerk's mercy, it's no wonder he tripped on a crack in the pavement with a startled yelp.
"Ow, jeez…!"
Rubbing at his sore ankle to check that he hadn't sprained it or anything, Kosukegawa looked up only to see an old poster staring him in the face that someone had neglected to take down in the months since its advertised product release.
"It's the Heisei era 15th anniversary movie for Kamen Rider," he noted. "The movie war event that pitted the Showa Riders against the Heisei Riders…"
And displayed prominently on that poster, taking full advantage of their top billing, were the shining stars of each generation. The original Kamen Rider who started it all in the early 1970s… and standing opposite him, the latest, Gaim.
Both of them standing above the 28 Riders that came between, staring down at Kosukegawa from behind their inscrutable masks.
No, looking through him.
"...judging me," Kosukegawa whispered as tears of shame welled up from his eyes and his body broke into shivers.
Meanwhile…
In the alleyway, the girl let out a horrified squeak as she backed into a fence, helpless as the big scary man pulled away her glasses with a sneer.
"I mean look at you; you wear boring damn clothes like that uniform and don't wear any makeup, but you're still one hell of a looker."
Heart pounding like a jackhammer, the girl trembled and shook like a leaf in a hurricane. "Please just go away," she sobbed. If this doesn't stop, then… then–!
"You just need a man to make you a real woman," he said as he licked his lips, completely ignoring her. "And Haruki Mishima's gonna educate every last inch of you…"
The newly-identified Mishima reached out to touch her face, and Motoko Gettou completely blacked out from sheer terror.
Finally mustering his courage, Kosukegawa ran back to the alley brandishing his phone like a bludgeon. "Grrraaaaah! I'm calling the cops, you creep! So leave her the heck alone if you know what's good for you!"
Just as Kosukegawa was about to turn the corner, however, the creep in question earlier flew out of the alleyway back-first and collided into the car he'd so proudly bragged about earlier, completely caving in the driver's side of the frame, shattering the windows and windshield, and sending it skidding into the street proper with enough force that it nearly rolled onto the opposite side.
Ten seconds ago, the McLaren P1 had been a foreign luxury car that sold from the factory for over 100 million yen. Now, it would be lucky to be bring in a single ten-thousandth of that at a local scrap yard.
"...he flew past like he'd been shot out of a cannon," Kosukegawa absently muttered as his brain struggled to fully process the reality playing out in front of him. If I'd been even one step faster, I'd have been caught up in that and probably would have died…!
"For fuck's sake," a girl's voice drawled in frustration from inside the alley, "pansies like you are a dime a dozen."
With great difficulty, a terrified Kosukegawa turned his attention away from the bloody mess of a human being that had almost dragged him into its fate and looked into the alley from which he'd come.
Standing there, retrieving her glasses from a dumpster they'd been tossed into and wiping some gunk off of them…
Her student uniform was unchanged, and Kosukegawa hadn't been gone for long enough to readily believe that anyone else would likely have entered or exit the scene. Without question, it had to be the same girl as before.
Standing there with the casual indifference of someone who'd just stepped on an ant without realizing it. Her face was firmer, sharper with the experience of a harsh life. Muscles tensed with the quiet confidence of a lifelong martial artist. Radiating hostility like a feral tiger at the end of a heavy steel leash she couldn't break free of. Without question, it couldn't possibly be the same girl as before.