|Wow! An update!
||[Aug. 28th, 2005|09:27 pm]
Ryuichi and Takashi
|||||Prince of Egypt - When You Believe||]|
Hey, Ryuichi here with your latest track! Enjoy, and PLEASE review.
School of Jrock (for lack of a better name)
by Saito Azumi and Houshi Buyo
Track 25 - A Super Special (Not Really) Mystery!!
Shinya tapped his fingers on his chin, boredly. Yoshiki was sitting at the front of the class, mumbling insane curses under his breath in some weird kind of pianist/Alien language. Toshiya was poking the hell out of Shinya, who was sitting next to Die, who was drawing hentai pictures on the desk, while Takashi and Ryuichi played some kind of weird hand jive game.
“GO FISH! I WIN!!” Ryuichi grinned, sticking his tongue out at Takashi.
“What?! That’s bull! I won!” Takashi growled, before grabbing hold of Ryuichi’s jugular vein, proceeding to strangle the poor boy silly.
“Children! Please!!” Shinya interrupted, rolling his eyes. Toshiya stopped poking to watch the strangle-fest. Satochi, one of the other students in the class, turned to Die.
“Hey, I bet you a slice of pizza that Ryuichi will escape and then strangle Takashi with a piece of rusty wire.” He said, nodding.
“Throw a coke in there, and you’re ON!” Die exclaimed. And well, the results of the bet were soon discovered.
Ryuichi kicked Takashi in his nonexistent balls, making the poor boy double over in pain. Grinning psychotically, he pulled a rusty wire from under his hair, and wrapped it around Takashi’s throat, pulling. “See how you like it, yeah!” He said, before cackling like the secret madman he was.
“....” Die was silent. Satochi grinned and turned back to Yoshiki, who was still mumbling to someone over the phone. As soon as he hung up, he turned to the class with a wild look in his eyes. Ryuichi stopped choking Takashi and the two sat down once more, their necks both extremely purple.
“They look like they had a major necking fest.” Toshiya whispered to Shinya, as Yoshiki sent a glare their way.
“Right! Anyway, I just got off of the phone with someone from a famous book company, and he’s looking for some new, young faces! So, I thought I would take advantage of this opportunity for a last-minute project.” He grinned wickedly, while the rest of the class groaned.
“Further details? Let’s see. I want you all to write a short story. They are making a short story book after all. It can be any genre. I’m going to ship them off to my friend in two days, so that’s how long you have to write it. He’ll edit them and ship them back, and they shall be graded. Those with As on their papers will get to have their stories published.” He blinked as the bell rang, and shook his head.
“See you all tomorrow.” He said, with a wave of his hand. All of the students quickly filed out of the classroom, all wanting to get back to their dorms and get started on homework. Takashi and Ryuichi walked down the hall together, hand in hand, while humming songs from “The Wizard of Oz”. They looked quite happy together, for a couple that was just trying to kill one another in the classroom. Shinya couldn’t help but smile, which made Die burst out in a fit of laughter.
Once they were all safely back in room 713, the four residents flopped down on their respective beds and pulled out their laptops to begin with the story writing. Ryuichi was halfway through his in an hour (setting the record for 30 pagesperhour), when he suddenly got frustrated.
“Ugh! It’s too... happy.” He said, shaking his head. “I need... something darker.” And with that, Ryuichi dashed into the bathroom and shut the door.
Die rolled over and saved his. “I’m writing about the life of a construction worker.” He said, rolling his eyes. “It’s actually quite interesting, really.” Takashi blinked and peeped over Die’s shoulder, only to watch him copy and paste posts from an online weblog of a construction worker.
“What’re you writing about, Shinya?” Takashi asked, tilting his head to the side like a cute puppy. Shinya, being the dog lover of the dorm, could not resist the look.
“I’m writing a story about a dog that learns to talk and helps solve murder mysteries.” He said, smiling brightly. Takashi couldn’t help but note how pretty Shinya looked with a smile on. Die did not notice this. He just laughed. “What about you?” Shinya asked back, his smile changing into a frown.
“Me? Ah, it’s quite simple actually. It’s a dark story told in first person about two guys on drugs, told from the point of view of the guy’s friend. It’s all about the events leading up to the friend’s overdose.” Takashi nodded curtly, a determined look on his face. Die stopped laughing.
“Oh! Sounds interesting. I wonder what Ryuichi’s gonna write...” Die pondered a loud.
The once-pink haired boy in question was sitting on the toilet in the bathroom, staring at his hair. Which he had just dyed by himself. The pink in his hair had faded considerably, making it look more orange, so Ryuichi decided he would just use some kind of weird substance to wash it out. “Hmmm...” He pondered, tapping his fingers against his chin. “I wonder what colour I should use now...” He eyed the choices in front of him. Red, brown, pink and green. None of them really seemed that appealing, except for pink and brown. Green was just out of the question, and Die’s hair was red, and now everyone was getting pink hair! Ryuichi frowned and reached for the brown bottle.
Ryuichi’s hair had gotten considerably longer over the year. His bangs passed his chin and the rest of his hair was almost getting five or so inches past his shoulders. It looked pretty good, but he would have to get it cut sooner or later. Grabbing the scissors, he began to cut off the dead ends. With that complete, he grabbed the bottle once more and started dying the tips of his hair.
“Yay!” He squeed, once it was over. It looked pretty good, for a personal job. With the complication of trying to get to the back of his head, his hair was back to fully black, with the tips of his hair brown, occasionally an entire strand or four of the same colour. Winking at his mirror, he exited the bathroom and sat back down on his bed, hugging his plushie closer to him. The weather outside was getting colder and the threat of a thunderstorm loomed in the distance.
“OH! INSPIRATION!!” Ryuichi yelled, before pulling his lap top into his lap.
“Nice hair, rat head.” Takashi said, laughing evilly. Ryuichi gave him a look and waved the wire in front of his friends face, and the other boy immediately shut up.
The Song of Storms
By Hayama Ryuichi
The night was a stormy one and the window howled relentlessly. Two girls huddled together in their small, cramped apartment, one of them obviously terrified.
“Mai-san, you need to calm down.” The calm one whispered, placing her hand over Mai’s eyes, who only sobbed harder.
“But... Deiji... He’s dead.... He’s dead...” Mai whispered, chanting the last line like a mantra. Her shaking, pale face was stained with salty tears, which there only seemed to be more of by the minute.
Kyo was a bright young teenager, whose sole goal in life was to become the world’s greatest macabre artist. Humming to himself, he continued to run the brush over the canvas. When he was done, he surveyed his work and stood up. Walking to the back of the room, he removed his paint-stained apron and looked at the painting once more.
The painting depicted a face , and the left eye was missing its iris and pupil; completely white. The lips were pierced through with a silver hook and blood dripped from the open wound. The lips were painted a luscious red, outlined in a charcoal black. Red tears left small stains in their trails as they made their way down this person’s face.
Kyo grinned maniacally to himself and dusted off his hands. His apartment seemed so empty, now that he really thought about it. Shivering, he looked out at the damp city with its overcast weather and decided to take a walk.
After dropping out of high school, Kyo had found himself with many job options. He was a talented singer and lyricist, and was also a good artist. His writing was horrible though. Everything was “too gory for the public”, or so his publisher said.
Sighing, he slipped on his burgundy coat and slipped out of his apartment and toward the busy streets of present day Kyoto.
Sighing once more, he wistfully put on his had and, in a dream-like state, made his way toward the coffee shop that he enjoyed so much. Upon entering, he noticed that it was rather empty, most likely due to the weather. A group of people sat in a booth, talking animatedly about school. Sitting down he noticed the brown haired girl sitting next to him.
“Go and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root.
Tell me where the past years are,
Or who cleft the devil’s foot.
Teach me to hear the mermaid’s singing,
Or to keep of envy’s stinging.
Serves to advance and honest mind.” She said to herself, sipping on a mug of warm tea and reading from a black poetry book.
“If thou be'st born to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights,
Till Age snow white hairs on thee;
Thou, when thou returns,
Wilt tell me,
All the strange wonders that befall thee.”
Lives a woman, true and fair.” Kyo said the last part in unison with her as he took his coffee from the waitress. The girl paused and eyed him as he sipped his coffee innocently, not meeting her eyes.
“You like John Donne?” She asked, with a tilt of her head.
“I just like that poem.” He said, grinning somewhat contemptuously. The girl shook her head and smiled, before scooting over a chair so she was sitting across from him. With a roll of thunder, the skies darkened and the rain began to pour.
“Not again.” She groaned, finishing off her tea. Kyo shrugged and sipped at his coffee as he watched the rain continue its assault on his city.
“So,” The girl said suddenly, interrupting Kyo from his thoughts. “Hi, I’m Mai.” She said, holding out her hand. Kyo warily shook it. “I’m a talent scout for musicians, painters and poets.” She said, smiling brightly,
“Kyo, painter.” He said, shortly, his eyes somewhat distant.
“You paint?” She inquired, learning forward. Kyo simply nodded. “Do you think I could see some of your work sometime?” She smiled.
This immediately knocked Kyo back to reality. “ My work?” He asked, wondering if he was hearing her correctly.
“Yeah! We’re really lacking in the artist department and you look really interesting. What kind of paintings do you do?”
“It’s all very macabre. A girl like you wouldn’t really be intereste--”
“Nonsense!” She exclaimed, cutting him off. “I would love to see your paintings if it wouldn’t be a problem.”
Kyo eyed the falling rain and shrugged. “My apartment’s in waling distance.” He said, leaving some money on the table. Getting up, he wrapped his coat tighter around him and smashed his hat onto his head.
Mai got up as well. She was jacketless, wearing nothing more than a white tank top and a pair of tattered black pants. Her shoes were simple steel-toed army boots and knee-high socks.
Raising a delicate eyebrow, Kyo opened the door for her and let in a gust of cold air and rain before leaving the warm coffee house. When they arrived at his small apartment, he gave her a quick tour, making sure to save his bedroom for last. He showed her his recently completed painting as well as a few others, scattered around the apartment. Finally, he got to the door of his bedroom.
Painted on the door was an upsidown cross, blood dripping from it and onto somebody’s lips. Turning the doorknob, he opened the door. Mai gasped as she stepped into the room. Each wall had something uniquely gory on it, and piles upon piles of canvases were scattered around the room.
“Wow...” She whispered, making her way toward the canvases. Kyo grabbed her wrist to stop her.
“Hold on. Let me show you one painting that you may have seen as a print somewhere, and then I’ll go make some cocoa.” He said. Mail nodded dumbly and sat herself on the edge of the bed. Kyo emerged from his closet, carrying a velvet wrapped canvas. Pulling off the heavy, silky material, he looked at the painting, before turning it around so Mai could see it.
The painting was large and of a pale, naked girl suspended from the ceiling by a tattered rope. Her lips, vaginal entrance, and cleavage were sewn together, leaving her body caked with dried blood. Her eyes were missing, as well as her fingers and toes, and a long centipede crawled out of one of her empty eye sockets.
The horror and disgustingness of it all both repulsed and attracted the young girl. Slowly standing up, she walked toward the painting. Looking up at Kyo, she smiled before her gaze fell back to the sight before her.
“Wow... She said, once again, not knowing how to express her awe in words.
“Well?” Kyo asked, slightly nervous.
“It’s... it’s... beautiful. Do you know how much money you could make with this?” She asked, crouching to get a better view. “Now go make that cocoa you offered me earlier.” She said, smiling.
Kyo took the painting and laid it on his bed. Right as he was leaving, Mai grabbed his wrist. “Tomorrow, I want to introduce you to my boss.” Kyo nodded. “And I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me and my room mate tonight?” She looked down at her feet as she asked that.
“Sure.” Kyo smiled and left the room.
Days passed by after that. Mai's boss loved the prints that she had given him and planned to make Kyo the star of the next art show, so Kyo had to finish three new paintings before that. He met Deiji, Mai’s room mate. She was a calm and composed girl whose day job was working at a Buddhist shrine. They were the same age, only Deiji dressed better (she wore anything from elegant kimono to really interesting stuff like that). Instead of brown and black hair like Mai, Deiji had purple and pink hair, an unusual colour that actually suited her quite well. She also seemed to be more collected than Mai, who was either extremely happy or extremely sad.
He found that the two girls were steadily growing attached to him. He also found that it made him almost... happy, but after a few weeks, he found his spare time to paint was becoming limited.
With two paintings down for his personal art gallery and the deadline was coming up for his last one, he found himself tracked for time and his floors covered with sketches of things he could paint.
Because he spent his entire day with the two odd girls, his nights were spent working, Sometimes he went without sleep for a few consecutive days.
“This has got to stop.” Kyo whined, burying his face in his hands. Peeping through his fingers, he looked at his calendar. Two days left.
It was 7 AM in the morning and he didn’t know where the hell he’d be dragged off to that day. Reaching for the phone, he punched in the only real number he knew and waited for someone to pick up.
“Hello?” Deiji asked through the phone. Kyo let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.
“Deiji-san. Thank you. I don’t think I can do anything until after the opening of the gallery.” He said, rather quickly.
“Oh?” She asked, still calm and collected.
“It’s in two days and I haven’t even finished the last painting, nor have I gotten any sleep in days. I’ll be better after the opening. I’m extremely sorry!” He pleaded.
“I’ll tell Mai. Now go finish that painting.” Before he could say anything, she hung up. Sighing, Kyo relaxed and went to take a nap.
Kyo woke up again around four. The fog was coming down heavily and the rain was pouring like there was no tomorrow.
Kyo stretched and rolled off the couch onto a stack of papers. Groaning, he picked himself up and tossed all of the papers off of his table. Pulling g out a new paper, he began sketching rapidly. Surveying his messy work, he moved over to the canvas and began transferring his idea onto it.
Three hours later, he was close to being done. He had done a portrait of a girl, wearing a blindfold over her eyes, blood seeping through it. Her hair was black with strands of browns and blondes. Her parted lips were painted a luscious red and her face was as pale as the moon itself. The background was as bleak as the dreary skies outside, which by a quick look out the window, were growing darker. Everything was painted, except for most of the skin (the shadows caused by her hair were painted on, but it has no colour, nor did Kyo want to give it any).
“It needs.... something.” He whispered to himself. There was a knock at his door, interrupting his thoughts.
Getting up, he opened the door only to find Mai, who looked like she was near tears, cold and soggy. Kyo sighed and ushered her in, before going to get a towel for her. Wrapping the fuzzy linen around her wet body, he led her to the couch.
She stopped mid-step when she spotted the semi-finished painting. “Is that the...?” She asked, Kyo nodded. Smiling, she padded toward it, careful not to step on anything with her wet socks. “Wow...”
Kyo sat himself down on the stool in front of it. “It just... lacks something.”
The next thing he knew, something cold and metallic was pressed against the back of his neck. Kyo froze, unable to even blink to take in a breath of air. “I thought you loved me. Deiji said you called today and said it was over between its.” Mai spat. Kyo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “So I’m going to be the one to end this. I know what will complete your painting. Bai bai, Kyo....” Pulling the trigger on the gun she held against his neck, she watched as his blood splattered his painting and his breathing grew more hoarse. Mai just looked at him with cold eyes and walked off toward the bedroom.
The next day, Mai burst through the door to her own apartment, wailing. “Deiji... I.... I” She sobbed, clinging to her best friend. “Kyo!” Deiji ran her hand up and down Mai’s cold back in attempt to soothe her. “I....” She hiccuped. “I woke up and walked into the living room, and found him dead, and his painting covered in blood.” She started wailing once more.
“He doesn’t love you as much as I do. He loved his art more. No one will ever love you as I do...” Deiji whispered to her hysterical friend.
Mai squeaked embarrassedly as she was thrown into the crowd of people who came to see Kyo’s art gallery. Mai looked around until she spotted a redhead looking at the painting Kyo did the night he died. Mai stood beside him; the dried blood against the pale girl’s face as a nice touch.
The redhead looked over at her and she could tell it was just a dye job. “You know...” He began, “The girl in the painting looks a lot like you.” He gave the shy girl a smile, causing her to blush. “Only the facial structure isn’t the same.”
“I knew him before he... died.” She whispered, looking down at her feet.
“Would you like to... look around with me?” The boy asked. “I’m Daisuke.” He smiled again.
“Sure. I’m Mai.” She smiled brightly and the two walked off to look at the other paintings.
Deiji sighed and shook her head from behind a sculpture as she watched Mai leave. “One day, I will have you to myself and no man in the world can take you away from me.”
Ryuichi relaxed and cracked his back. “And done!” He said, happily, two days after he started. It was still raining.
“Can I use your printer, Die?” She asked the redhead, while he was playing Mario Kart with Takashi.
“Lemme read it first.” He said, just as he lost. Takashi got up and did the “Retard Dance” as Die called it, and then went back to playing Final Fantasy XXIII on his PS5000 (XD XD XD).
Die sat down and read the entire story, occasional nodding, smiling or fixing typos. When he was done, he looked up at Ryuichi. “Wow... I just have a few questions. Okay, just explain the unexplainable and then I’ll ask.”
“Well, at the very beginning, it doesn’t say this, but Mai kills someone, wakes up and finds them dead and doesn’t remember a thing. Then she meets Kyo and becomes attached to him, believing that they are somewhat of a ‘couple’. Deiji told Mai that he didn’t ‘love her’. She killed Kyo in her rage (this is what always happens, by the way) and then forgot about it the next day. Same thing happened in the very beginning and will happen over and over. Deiji didn’t want anyone getting near what she calls as hers, so if the story would continue, the same thing would happen to Daisuke and all of the other people.
The thing about Mai is that she’s an enigma, so she easily attracts lonely people, or just people in general, with her personality, but she gets too attached and ends up taking up all of their spare time, and so, when they ask for a few days to work and sleep, Deiji plants it into Mai’s head that they hate her.” Ryuichi explained, and then smiled.
Die nodded. “Right.” He said, before looking over at Takashi, who had just beaten a boss and was doing his “retard dance” again.
A week after the stories were due, Yoshiki was opening a brown box in front of the classroom. Pulling out stacks upon stacks of stories, he looked through them all and pulled out all the ones that got As.
“I’m going to read the comments of the A students allowed to the class.” Yoshiki said, holding out six or seven papers. “And some comments for the failing students.”
“Hattori-san, the way you wrote your story was absolutely brilliant. The truth and reality of drug abuse and overdose was well written in this short story of yours. I would love to see more work from you, if you would be interested.
Hayama-san, I really liked this piece. The way that Deiji was overprotective of Mai and was feeding her lies in order to get her to kill off everyone she loves, and the way that Mai forgot everything the next day made it perfect for a dark story. This truly shows that sometimes, ignorance is bliss.” Yoshiki paused and the class clapped for Takashi and Ryuichi, who high fived each other.... and missed. Die laughed.
“Shinya-san (for Shinya only gave his first name, as did the rest of the class sans Takashi and Ryuichi), this was a wonderful story, and would be perfect for a younger audience. If you’d be interested in writing children’s stories, then feel free to send me anything you would like to be published.
Akira-san, this was a beautiful work of art. This was probably the darkest thing I have read in a while. We would definitely need more dark and depressing stories for the disturbed public, who would love your tale of the man who goes to visit his wife’s grave once a year.”The class clapped for Shinya and Akira, who were both smiling (only Shinya was hiding his smile).
“And, last but not least, Toshiya-san, your story was... pretty good. Not as good as the others, but you have a lot of potential.” Toshiya frowned, “But don’t let that comment get you down, your story was beautiful, but it lacked true feeling like the other ones did.” Die laughed at Toshiya.
“And from one of the failing students: Daisuke-san, your story lacked feeling and it looked like you had just copied and pasted from somewhere else. Try to think of something more original, because construction workers, though they do do a lot for us, are rather boring, and sometimes just borderline insane.” Yoshiki shook his head. It was Ryuichi and Takashi’s turn to point and laugh at Die, who stuck his tongue out at the two.
“Class dismissed.” Yoshiki said, putting the papers back in the box. And once again, Takashi and Ryuichi skipped out of class, hand in hand, singing songs from the Wizard of Oz.
*~*End of Track 25*~*
I don't really like the way my story came out, mind you, and Takashi's story was so much better. Maybe we'll get to hear it someday! But I do love my new haircut thing! Maybe I'll get a picture in someday!