Finally got off my lazy butt and wrote something.
Takeshi furiously scribbled down the last answers to his practice exam. “Done! And in record time no less!” He announced to the world. “And now to check the-KUSO!” His eyes had already glanced at the clock reading 7:30 p.m.
“Aaaah, Matsuri-chan will kill me if I’m late!” Takeshi slammed open his drawers and proceeded to throw on some clothes. “Onii-chan, you better get there on time, otherwise you’ll get dumped for real! Last time it was a misunderstanding, and you still moped around the house for two weeks! It was like taking care of an emo zombie!”
Kana waltzed into the room while Takeshi struggled with his socks. “And don’t mess it up with Yamano-sempai because I like her compared to all the-AHHHH!” Kana caught a pillow projectile to the face from Takeshi’s direction. “Of course, my beloved sister. I would never ever disappoint you.” Takeshi smiled wryly. “Besides, we’re not even dating. We collaborate on music. Two totally different things.”
“Oh, is that what kids call it these days? Well, why don’t you go ‘collaborate’ up some grandchildren for kaa-san?” Kana grinned mischievously. “I’ll get right on it, obaa-san~~!” Takeshi gave a light noogie to Kana’s head as he walked out.
He zipped down the stairs while Kana gave him an exaggerated raspberry from his room. “Oi oi! Did you finish your test yet, Takkun!?” His mother grilled him from the kitchen. “YESI’LLBEHOMEBEFORETWELVE, ITTEKIMASU!” Was Takeshi’s muddled answer as he ran out the door and slammed it shut. “Hey! Wait! It’s only been half an hour! *Sigh* what was she going to do about her Takkun? He was fairly bright, but if his father was any indication, more re-takes would be in his future.
As Takeshi ran down the street at a brisk pace, he reflected on what Kana had said. Maybe she had uncovered his true feelings for Matsuri, but Kana always liked to tease him about relationships, real or otherwise. She fit her little sister role well, almost too well, Takeshi felt. Even that one time Kana followed him to the park to meet Matsuri-chan.
Eight-o-clock. *Phew* Takeshi barely made it on time to the meeting place, the Mizuchi Noodle House. It was pretty dark, save for the lights from the shops on either side of the street. “Konbanwa, Takeshi-kun! What brings you over here tonight?” An old man peered outside of the restaurant. “Konbanwa, Mizuchi-san. I’m meeting Matsuri-chan here for a…uh…meeting.” Takeshi coughed uncomfortably.
“Eh?…OH! Another one of your dates, I see. Well please, come in! It’s getting quite chilly outside. ”
“Kekkou-desu. No thanks, Mizuchi-san. I think I’ll wait here for a moment.”
The old man smiled and nodded. “I’ll see you both inside then.” He returned to the bustling restaurant.
“Ah! I forgot to check my phone!” Takeshi ripped it out of his pocket.
*One New Text Message*
“Tachibana-san asked me to meet him at the recording studio for an emergency record/redo. Hope everything is okay with the music, but I’ll be a little late. Gomen. ~Matsuri.”
Tachibana Akira…the record producer. It took a few seconds for the name to sink in Takeshi’s mind.
“Oh no. No no no. Dammit!” Takeshi made a break for the recording studio. He warned Matsuri a few times before to never meet with Akira alone for one reason.
Tachibana Akira was a slimy dirtbag with no sense of decency.
He knew Akira was absolute trash the second they shook hands at their first meeting. But, Takeshi yearned to create music. Professionally would’ve been even better. He wanted it enough to overlook this characteristic, but that was a mistake. His mistake. A mistake Matsuri would pay. Takeshi gritted his teeth.
One more block, he thought to himself.
He ruminated for a moment. Her message was sent fifteen minutes beforehand, so she had to have been on her way when Akira called her over. He must’ve somehow known we were meeting together and planned to break Matsuri off into another direction. Takeshi whipped out his phone and called Matsuri, but no luck; all he got was an answering machine.
Takeshi stopped in front of a yellow three story concrete building; unassuming to most people, many labels would come here to record famous artists year round.
Out of breath, Takeshi inserted his key and opened the building door to the studio. He checked around, no lights were on in the reception area. “Matsuri-chan!” Takeshi yelled desperately. Nothing.
He ran up to the second floor, his eyes darting back and forth to check the vocal booths behind the windows. Takeshi made it to the end of the hall when he heard muffled noises behind the door next to him. He turned the doorknob to the control room, but it was locked.
Time to break the door down. Takeshi kicked the door as hard to he could with a loud whack. The door budged a small bit, but the lock held it in place. The intercom next to the door lit up green and a tinny voice came out.
“Oh…Takkun, you’re here so early. Just give us twenty-No!..Takkun…h-help…he’s…” *SLAP* “Like I said, just give us a while-AAh-“
The intercom cut off with a *KKSHHHT* noise, and Takeshi was already pissed.
“The HELL you call me?!” Takeshi made another attempt at the door, an obvious crack formed with his repeated strikes. Enraged, he made a bum rush with all his weight and crashed into the door, successfully swinging it open.
*Sigh* “Goddamn kids…” Akira turned his attention to Takeshi, who was now groaning on all fours. “Can’t a guy get a little break around here?” Akira asked aloud and promptly walked over and kicked Takeshi back down. “I mean, I do all the freaking work. And people like YOU question ME on how I get MY fun? Feh. Fucking hypocrites.” Akira landed a glancing blow to Takeshi’s face.
“This is MY STUDIO! I get to do whatever I want to whomever I want IN HERE! And that means you, Matsuri! Akira began to walk towards a huddled Matsuri, trembling in fear.
A hand gripped Akira’s shoulder. He craned his head back to see the bruised face of Takeshi.
“Hey Akira.” Takeshi narrowed his eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” *WHAM*
Takeshi delivered a solid right hook into Akira’s face sending him straight to the ground with a hard *THUMP*.
Akira seemed to be unconscious for the moment, so Takeshi walked over to take a look at Matsuri. Her shirt was ripped open; the tie, vest, and coat had been strewn all over the room. What was left of her skirt was in tatters. The only thing left intact was her underwear, which was partially visible.
Matsuri hugged Takeshi tightly as he kneeled down to check her. “T-Takkun…I was s-so scared.” Tears poured down her face. “He w-was about to r-rape me…if-if you hadn’t come when you did…”
“Come on.” Takeshi gently helped her up. “Let’s get out of here; I’ll take you home.”
“Heh. Brat can actually punch.” Akira lifted himself off the floor.
“Get out of our way, asshole. You lost.”Takeshi started to make his way past Akira.
“…Yeah, not so fast.” Akira pulled out a gun.
“Please, you can’t intimidate me with that airsoft gun.” Takeshi motioned Matsuri to follow him.
“Who said this was fa-aagh!” Takeshi tackled Akira to the floor. They wrestled for control of the gun, but Akira, having the larger frame, came out on top. “Now I win, asshole!” Akira held the gun at Takeshi’s face.
“Fuck. You.” Takeshi grabbed a nearby sizeable splinter of broken wood from the door and jammed it into Akira’s left eye. Akira howled and discharged a round from his gun.
Blinded with pain, Akira got up and ran out of the control room screaming, “I’LL DEAL WITH YOU LATER, YOU FUCKER!”
Takeshi, still laying flat on his back, rolled his head to the other side to look at Matsuri. “Ahaha…we won.” He gave a small smile. Her expression was that of shock.
She ran over to him. “No…Takkun, we need to get you to the hospital.”
“What do you mean hospital? We need to get you home first. Let me just get up…”
Takeshi felt strangely heavy. Like all of his strength had been sapped while a two ton cement brick had been laid on top of his body.
His vision began getting cloudy, blurry. Noises seemed to drown out. What was going on? Hadn’t he saved the day?
“Hold on, Takkun…they’re coming. Help is coming.” Matsuri placed his head in her lap, one hand stroking his hair, and the other putting pressure against a blood-stained coat. She needed to be strong, even though tears were fighting to come out again.
“Arigatou, Matsuri-chan.” Takeshi’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Ne, Takkun. Let’s visit the park again in summer, okay?” She said wistfully to get his mind off the pain.
Takeshi raised his hand and touched her cheek.
“Zutto zutto issho ni itai, Matsuri.”
His hand fell limply back to the floor.
– – –