[FIC] Class Act (part 9)

[dd]

The trip from the Korakuen Gardens to the newly opened Grand National Museum of Okayama went off without a hitch. Kaname had just about reached an even keel again, as the bus pulled into the oversized-vehicle parking area. She actually broke out in a smile when Okibasu turned on the overhead speakers and gave her preparatory talk to the class.

“Well, we’re finally here, class. They’re expecting us, and have a number of special activities planned. Before we head in, I should take a moment to thank Kaname Chidori, your hard-working class representative. Thanks to her selfless work, this should be a memorable visit for everyone.” Miss Okibasu led everyone in a sedate round of applause.

Blushing, Kaname couldn’t help but feel wonderful. It was nice to be appreciated. Unfortunately, the mood wouldn’t last.

“Yeh, but it’s really SOUSUKE who’s made this a trip we’ll never forget!”

“That’s right. Sousuke ROCKS!!!” That was enough to set Kaname at Level 1.

“Give me an S.” “S.” “Give me an O.” “O.” “Give me a U.” “U.” “Give me an S.” “S.” “Give me another U.” “U.” “How about a K.” “K.” “And give me an E.” E.”

When they were asked “What does it spell,” just about everyone shouted “SOUSUKE!”

Kaname Hmmmpppfffed and said “Jerk!” Level 2.

Sousuke walked over to Kaname. “It is good to see that your hard work has been appreciated, Kaname.”

She had often wished that Sousuke would realize how difficult it was to be class representative. This was not one of those times. “Sousuke, give me an S-H-U-T U-P. What does it spell?”

“Uh. Shut up?”

“YES!”

“Who should shut up, Kaname?”

“Ooooohhhh, Sousuke….” She brought her arm back and stopped. She wanted to stomp her foot in anger. That damn promise! She jumped up to Level 4.

“Here you go, Kaname.” Maya poured the contents of a water bottle over Sousuke’s head. Kaname smiled. A whole world of possibilities opened before her eyes. It was nice to have friends.

Ryo added half a bag of chips. Kyouko stuck her chewing gum to Sousuke’s ear. Mizuke was about to join the fun with some cookie remnants, but stopped. She remembered Sousuke’s gallantry the night before. Ren handed Sousuke a stack of napkins.

When they made their way off of the bus, the students passed through a pleasant outdoor gallery of sculpture mixed with flowering trees and shrubs. One sculpture was a free form expression of a nude woman. One boy yelled out “Look, I’m Sousuke” when he but both hands on the statue’s breasts. Kaname reached Level 5.

As they passed by a stylish work of art that looked like the door of a jail cell, a girl ran behind it and started banging on the doors. “I’m Kaname!” Level 6.

Kyouko gave Kaname about the ever-changing nature of friendship. “That reminds me, Kaname. Let’s get those pictures.” She stepped back from Kaname and readied her camera. A smile lit her face when Ryo handed her a strip of numbers written on the blank side of a museum brochure. “Face the camera first. OK, now give me a profile.” Mug shots. They were worth Level 7

A large cast statue of two naked lovers embracing stood just outside of the museum entrance. Miss Okibasu was there, pointing up at the giant piece of erotica. “What do you think about this one, Mr. Sagara?” She asked. “So natural. So right.” That pushed things off the scale. Kaname went to 11.

“Girls…” Kaname pointed at Sousuke after the Teacher went to check the class in.

Ren sighed. Kyouko hung her camera around her neck and joined Ryo and Maya who were headed towards the young soldier. Mizuke ran to join them---gratitude only goes so far.

“Sick’em.” Kaname smiled, watching as the girls pushed Sousuke behind a large stand of topiary. When the girls walked out again laughing, Kaname felt the pressure level subside.

Everyone turned and laughed when Sousuke walked out. There was a chorus of wolf whistles. The girls had been very thorough. Blush. Eye-liner. Lipstick. Painted nails. The works.

Kaname felt wonderful again. Level 0.


************************************************************


The museum was enormous. There was a building for Japanese art and antiquities; one for European and North American works; another for World history and wonders; and two dedicated to the sciences. A modern observatory and planetarium sat just outside of the main campus. A studio for ongoing projects was very popular, allowing select guests to view modern masters in action and even try their own hand at various media. The ribbon cutting ceremony on a new hall of military history would open that very afternoon.

The crowd contained students from other districts, woman’s groups, art critics, and a fair number of dignitaries and celebrities. There were people of every conceivable age, shape, size, color, and gender.

Miss Okibasu pointed out a number of important signs. No Running. No Horseplay. No Touching. No Smoking. No Food Permitted in Museum Area. No Weapons. Donations Welcome. Feel Free To Take As Many Photographs As You Like. No Flashes Permitted In The Room Of Mirrors. Patience Is A Virtue.

Kaname went over to an information stand, took out a brochure, and wrote on it. When Miss Okibasu wasn’t watching, she went over and used some gum to stick it next to some of the other signs. The new sign read No Otakus.

“We’ll have a number of different tour guides and chaperons through out the day, class. We will break for lunch in the Museum Cafeteria. If anyone gets separated from their group, please join any other Jindai group you come across. Failing at that, meet us all back at this entranceway one half hour prior to closing.” Finished speaking, Miss Okibasu saw the impromptu sign. She immediately turned to Kaname, who shrugged her shoulders in a ‘Who? Me?’ fashion.

The first tour guide arrived with quite a flourish. There girls dressed as geishas carried large fans. When the huge props were moved aside, a man was seen standing there. Tall, and slender like a dancer, he wore a flowing flowered kimono, large gold hoop earrings, expensive sandals, and enough jewelry to start a small shop. The scent of perfume preceded him.

“Hello. You are all pleased to meet me. I am Kuro Kimutaku. The more sophisticated of you already knewthat.” He whirled in a great flourish of silk. “What are you girls still doing here. Go. Shoo. Shoo!” The young ladies with the fans ran off in a great hurry.

“We are very pleased to meet you, Mr. Kimutaku,” Miss Okibasu said, bowing.

“Yes. I know. I said that. If you will step aside, let me get a feel for my group.” The guide took a fan out of one voluminous sleeve and began waving it towards the teacher, as if he could make her disappear.

“I am Kaname Chidori, class representative. I arranged this trip. I have heard wonderful things about this museum.” Kaname bowed as well.

“So I have you to thank for this charming group? Marvelous. Of course, you likely have more breast than brain. Can’t be helped, I suppose.” The man dismissed Kaname as well.

Sousuke, still unaware of the reason everyone was laughing at him, caught the flamboyant man’s eye. “My, what have we here. Better and better. Simple clothing, so dark, but showing the contours nicely. Muscular, but not grotesque. Bold and self assured, able to let his true nature shine through. Magnifique.” He now used the fan on himself.

Guys and gals alike started looking at one another, fighting to keep from laughing. Sousuke would never hear the end of this. Miss Okibasu and Kaname each looked at Sousuke, then glared at Mr. Kimutaku. Noticing each other’s look, they both blushed, then scowled even more.

“Young man, be so kind as to grace me with your name.” The guide’s eyes were intense.

“Sousuke Sagara, Sir.” Sousuke was confused. It was a ‘Sir,’ wasn’t it?

“Sousuke…Sagara…Sir. Such succulent sibilance. May I call you Suki, or Sagi?” Mr. Kimutaku took out a small mirror and straightened his sideburns. “Please…”

“No, Sir!” Sousuke was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“”Shy, are we? Well, perhaps you will loosen up later.” The fan reached out close to Sousuke, then back again.

“As class representative, I will say that I hope you can spare your attention for all of the students.” Kaname walked over and stood close to Sousuke. In her hands were a small towlette and her compact. She smiled at the look on his face when he looked at his reflection. That was something to cherish. The make-up came off quicker than it had gone on.

“I must agree with Miss Chidori. We’ve all driven rather far, with hopes to see wonderful sights and learn interesting facts.” Miss Okibasu walked up on the other side of Sousuke. “We have great faith in you.”

“Ahhh. I see. I have wasted far too much time in pleasantries. It is time for you all to feast your young eyes on the marvels of human creativity and ingenuity. If you perchance feel faint, do not hesitate to let me know. If I faint, make certain that Suki catches me.” With that, another flourish, and a wave of his fan, the colorful guide began the tour.

Sousuke took the brunt of a lot of jokes. Everyone took to calling him ‘Suki,’ ‘Sagi,’ or ‘Sweetheart.’

Ryo pretended to swoon. “It’s so unfair, when I boy is more beautiful than me. And I try so hard.”

Mizuke wiped away imaginary tears. “Surely, there is no God.”

Maya patted them both on the back. “We can’t ALL be magnifique!” The three girls broke down into near uncontrollable laughter.

“Mr. Sagara, you have permission to strike that man, if you wish.” Miss Okibasu ‘s look was indescribable.

“Yes Sousuke,” Kaname added. “Many times, if necessary. Or, even if it’s not.” What a time to be without the halisen.


************************************************************


After a short wait, the tour party was assembled. In addition to the Jindai students, Mr. Kimutaku’s group included a number of international officials and their families, some wealthy merchants, a number of bodyguards, and assorted folks of no special qualification.

The high school students, particular the boys, were not all on their best behavior. The museum representative was not amused.

“I understand that our young friends here are from Tokyo,” the guide mentioned as they all headed towards their first room. “I must say I’m rather surprised you traveled all this way to visit with us. Perhaps the Kaiju museum would have suited your tastes better.” A number of people laughed in response. “Of course, I don’t expect everyone to be so mundane and challenged. Right, Suki?”

Sousuke did not answer.

“I’m sorry. I should say ‘Sousuke.’ Well, charming boy, you’re not a fan of those horrid giant monsters, are you?” Mr. Kimutaku sniffed quite audibly.

“I find the movies to be an excellent diversion. I am particularly fond of the earlier Gojira films and the later Gamera movies. I have a fondness for flawed movies such as Yongary and Pulgasari. I must also admit that Yamato Takeru is a guilty favorite.” Sousuke answered amidst the titters from some of the more distinguished visitors.

Kaname smiled. She had been driven near distraction by Sousuke’s and Shinji’s classroom discussions of war movies and monster flicks in the past. .

“Oh my! How very adventuresome. Are you some form of otaku? Another Tsutomu Miyazaki, perhaps? Frightful, but intriguing.” He turned to the crowd and milked more attention. They had already grown used to the flamboyant but harmless man. “It is good that we have so many big strong men to protect us now. Let us honor them. Will all your dashing bodyguards raise your hands? Wonderful! Please take a bow.”

A number of men did as they were requested, nodding their heads at the short round of applause. Mr. Kimutaku made it a point to hug each of those men. Sousuke’s opinion of the men dropped a notch or two. Without exception, he had pegged each man as a professional. Now everybody knew.

The tour guide sniffed again, but for an entirely different reason. A shabbily dressed older man, an oversized raincoat hanging down near his feet and a threadbare fedora on his head, shuffled towards the center of the group. A tree’s age can be told when it’s cut down, thanks to the number of rings. By the same token, were that man sliced in two, the number of layers could accurately predict the time of his last bath.

“You there! That is quite close enough. Why have you slighted us all by your horrid appearance and repulsive odor. This is not a homeless shelter, and a subway station would be a much more suitable place to relieve yourself.” Mr. Kimutaku’s fan was moving at a furious rate.

“Paid money for a ticket. Paid more for a tour. Got in line. They put me here. I got no problem with it.” The shabby man’s voice carried an odd mix of youth and age.

“He has the same right to stay as the rest of us.” Kaname had surprised herself by speaking up. Her assertion was backed up noisily by her fellow students, still miffed at being made light of.

“Oh my, your grossly exaggerated chest must overwhelm you with maternal emotions. How utterly piquant. But, such an unseemly burden was surely draw the blood away from your head. Does any admirable person have anything to say?” The guide stepped to a point where he could look beyond the sea of students.

“I agree with Miss Chidori. She is an admirable person, and I find her judgment to be satisfactory. Except when she instructed me to put my hands on her breasts, then assaulted me in front of a police officer when I did what she asked.” Sousuke needed to realize that every thought or opinion did not need to be verbalized.

Kaname had started off beaming, but quickly fell back to earth. “SUKI!” She caught herself. Control, Kaname. Control. “SOUSUKE! I did NOT order you to do that. It was your misguided moronic military habits taking over again!”

A lot of whispering and laughing ran through the adults in the crowd. The students felt more at ease. It was something they were used to. Miss Okibasu’s thought of If I ordered him to grope ME, would he do it? was quickly pushed into a far corner of her mind.

“My my my, a desperate girl and a feisty boy. Who needs art, right people? I find myself aflutter. The dreary vagabond may stay.” Mr. Kimutaku started to walk again, but stopped and turned. “Oh, Suki. I hope you had all your shots after that!”

A number of men walked up to Kaname not long afterwards. They wasted no subtlety in offering their service as gropers. Irate, she turned to Sousuke, hoping he would rush to her defense as he usually did. No. He can’t. He gave his word. Me too. She ignored the men. When Kyouko walked over to see if she was OK, she knew what must be done.

“Ky, it was wonderful for you to volunteer.”

“Kaname? Volunteer?” Kyouko didn’t like the sound of it already.

“Yes. You, Maya, Ryo, Mizuke, and anyone you girls choose.”

“Do they know that, Kaname?” Kyouko had seen Kaname in action enough times to doubt they did.

“That’s not important now, Kyouko. Thanks to Sousuke, neither he nor I will be able to keep the class in line, or protect everyone from molesters and malcontents. We need the few, the strong, the girls. The Jindai squad.” Kaname got to work putting together her team. Shaking her head, she had to admit she learned something of value being around a military otaku.


************************************************************


Mr. Kimutaku was discussing Japanese archaeology. “This rather robust bronze bell, one of the finest still in existence, dates from the Yayoi era. Do any of our distinguished students know what century that was?”

“Second!” A girl from the drama club answered quickly.

“Second? I see.” The guide turned to Miss Okibasu. “You do deem to teach them something from time to time, do you not?”

“I…uh…” Miss Okibasu blushed. Her lip trembled.

“First century. 300-B.C. to 250 A.D.” Sousuke spoke evenly, unaffected by the man’s rudeness. “Miss Okibasu is a fine teacher. She has taught us all many things.” If no one else were present, Miss Okibasu might have kissed Sousuke then and there.

“Oh. If you say so brilliant boy, it must be so. Over here we have a marvelously decorated Sueki jar. There were three categories of clay work in medieval japan, Sueki, Hajiki, and Shiki. Sueki was usually grey and vitreous, and the technique was brought over from Korea. Such works were usually made on the wheel. This piece dates from the Kofun period. Who can tell us all what century that was?” Mr. Kimutaku turned to look at Sousuke.

“Sixth!” Kaname said, triumphantly.

“Correct. It gives truth to the old saying, Even a blind hog finds an acorn sometimes. Suki, you’re standing awfully close to that frightful young lady. Did you whisper the answer in her ear?” The guide knew he had not.

When the tour leader walked over to the next item of interest, a number of boys threw wrapped candy at Kaname’s feet. “Acorns!” one said, laughing.

“Ryo. Duty calls.” Kaname didn’t bother watching as Maya, Kyouko, Mizuke, and five other girls passed by her quietly. The subsequent muffled noise and grunts of pain were music to her ears. “Oh, and the signs said ‘No Food.’ Double punishment.” Lipstick and perfume make-over.

“Now, if I may have your attention, I should like to show you a pair of priceless tomb figures from China, Tang dynasty. These horses are wonderfully painted and detailed and if available to the general public and collectors, would fetch an obscene price. Do any of our distinguished visitors own any similar pieces? Any other rare Chinese tomb figures?” He smiled, noting the show of hands.

"I do hate to play favorites, but certain people deserve special treatment. I have these lovely pins I hope you will put on now. They will gain you entrance to the private rooms in our dining facilities. And, they make you men look so powerful."

Sousuke had not missed the actions of the Ryo and company. The command had come from Kaname. It was a clever plan, and circumvented the enforced limitation she was faced with. He shook his head angrily. He should have thought of that. No matter, a quick discussion with Shinji set things in motion. The Kaiju would be assembled. Simple code words and procedures could be taught in no time.

“Japanese calligraphy, or shodou, is highly developed art using brush and black ink to write Japanese and Chinese characters. Every figure has meaning in itself, a fact likely lost on the youth of today. Not surprisingly, early masters were men.” Mr. Kimutaku gave Kaname a quick smile. "Women in those days were little more than trifles, I'm afraid."

“The process developed from the practice of writing letters with brushes. Please take your time to examine a number of the works in this section of the museum. I recommend the Tale of Genji most of all, as it is the highest farm of the art, accompanied by masterful artwork. The Zen manuscripts are fascinating, and the collections of Japanese and Chinese verse are rather moving. There are also some scrolls from governmental offices of the Heian period. Do we have any political dignitaries with us today?” The guide bowed to everyone raising their hand. They respondandts each got a colored wristband, bar-coded to allow passage into the V.I.P. lounge.

Sousuke gave only scant attention to the scrolls and manuscripts. A woman had caught his attention. He whistled, a fine imitation of the Asian Rosy Finch. Shinji quickly made his way through the crowd to his friend.

“Shinji, we have a potential Monster Zero situation. That woman’s skirt is overly wide. She could very well be concealing weapons. She may indeed be a well-meaning indidual, but a smiling face can hide a black heart. Instruct the Kaiju to assess the threat. Take flash photographs as potential evidence.” Shinji moved to comply with Sousuke’s order.

"My sad last moments with you all will be spent viewing the magnificent metal work of our forebarers. I hope, in my feeble and fumbling manner, I gave been able to help you understand and enjoy the splendor of our honored past." Mr. Kimutaku blew kisses and bowed when he received a round of applause. The Jindai students remained still and silent. A woman screeched. The sounds of some form of confrontation could be heard from the back of the crowd.

"No doubt the women amongst you will view this as an overly large carving knife. In a sense, it was. The boys will no doubt recognize its martial use, but without my patient guidance, would never realize it is far more valuable as a work of art and an example of the pinnacle of metallurgy." The tour leader swung his arm towards a glass case holding a sword and its nearby sheath.

A boy limped up to Sousuke. "Leader, my report. Arrgghh. That woman was concealing nothing more than a really fat ass. Errrhhh. She wasn't interested in explanations regarding group security." His face was red and swollen. As he walked away, he moved with a noticeable limp.

"Too few people are able to think beyond themselves, today." Sousuke muttered sadly to himself.

“Now, there are three ways to classify a Japanese sword. You will not meat many men on the street capable of telling you that, or taking things any further.” The guide spoke in a hawkster’s manner, ready to build himself up.

“I bet you a week’s worth of bento that Sousuke could make this guy look like a clown.” Kaname believed in giving credit where credit was due. Usually, Sousuke was the exception to that rule.

“Done, girlfriend!” Maya slapped Kaname’s hand before Ryo could, leaving the other somewhat irritated. “The man may be a freak, but he knows his subject.”

“Same thing could be said for Sousuke, right?” Kyouko smiled.

“If you remember anything about samurai swords today, remember they can be classified as Daito, as Shoto, and as Tanto. Those are the three ways, based on length. But, not all swords were created equal….” Mr. Kimutaku was interrupted.

“Actually, you are only partly correct.” Sousuke walked over to the sword case. Kaname smiled at a worried Maya. The guide’s look was one of anger and disbelief at first, but he managed to put back his usual ingratiating expression. “There are TWO general ways to classify swords. First, by time period, in the following order: Koto, Shinto, Shin-Shintou, and Genditou. Second, by length, based on the number of shaku, a measurement slightly less than a foot. Daito refers to swords greater than two shaku, and includes the katana and tachi. Shoto refers to swords between one and two shaku, and includes the wakizachi and chisa-katana. Tanto referred to swords under one shaku.”

“Well, will wonders never cease. Beauty and brains. Let’s see any of you ladies match that. Thanku you, Suki. As I was saying…” Mr. Kimutaku was cut-off again.

“I would ask that you not interupt me, as I have afforded you the same courtesy throughout the day.” A number of boys whispered Sousuke ROCKS!!!. Nearby girls had no choice but to agree. Maya admitted defeat. One week of bento it was.

“Go Sousuke!!!” A boy in the middle of the crowd shouted, then whistled. Other students took his lead. Kaname sent out the Jindai Squad. Shouting and inciting a crowd to do the same were major transgressions. Giving too much credit to Sousuke was a capital offense. But, given her victorious betting, she would go lenient this time.

“There is another way to define swords, and that is by blade shape. Fore example, the various Zukuri, including Unikubi, Hira, Ken, Morcha, Shinogi, Shubu, Hira, Kiriha, and Kogarasu-maru. But to truly understand, date, and identify swords, one must also have knowledge of surface metal patterns, file mark patterns, characteristics of the tang, shape and features of the hamon, and so forth. One must also be able to decipher characters and to read signatures.”

In the deafening silence, a few unrelated sounds could be heard. A woman was screeching “Give me that camera,” followed by a call for help that sounded very much like Shinji. Mizuke’s voice was easily identifiable, warning a moaning boy to be quiet.

Finally, Mr.Kimutaku found his voice again. “Lovely, Suki. Very lovely. It is amazing the useless information the youth of today can squirrel away, isn‘t it?. What I wished to tell you all, is that this sword is rather special, as it is one of the few remaining pieces attributed to Umetada Myoju, one of the father’s of the old syle, or Koto blades. The sword is…”

“My apologies. There is a correction. He was known as the father of the modern sword, or Shinto. You may continue.” Sousuke happened to look over at Kaname. Why was she smiling at him?

“Ah yes. Has anyone ever told you Sousuke, that boys should be seen and not heard?” The guide's pleasant facade threatened to crack.

“No.”

“That was a RHETORICAL question!” Mr. Kimutaku’s eys flashed.

“Go Sousuke!” This time it was Kaname. She looked embarrassed when Myo, Ryo, Kyouko, and Mizuke shook their fingers at her.

“Well! Show someone a little kindness, and they want to walk all over you. Shinto! Are you happy now?” The crowd was openly amused at the tour guide’s frustration.

“Yes.”

“That was a…” Mr. Kimutaku caught himself. “This Katana is not only a work of sheer beauty, it was a deadly weapon in the hands of a foot soldier. With its razor-sharp edge, the…”

“If you like, to save future interruptions, I could write this down for you. The blade is a Tachi sword, not a Katana. A Tachi was turned edge down and hung from the waist. It was used on horseback, to chop at men on the ground. The Katana was turned to the upside and put between the obi. It was used by ground troops against other foot soldiers.” Sousuke asked a nearby woman for a pen.

“Magnifique!” Someone yelled from the crowd.

The tour guide looked fit to be tied. He struck the wall hard with his open hand, causing a poorly set lamp fixture to drop towards his head. With a quick hop and push off from a pillar, he avoided the falling light. For a moment, he hung suspended from the wall, holding on with feet and hands.

“At the end of your tour today, I hope all of you fine people will be generous in your contributions. This is a very new and complex museum, and there are obviously some adjustments to be made. Young man, is there anything else you care to grace us with?” It was clearly a rhetorical question. Any one with common sense would have caught the cue to ‘cease and desist, jerk wad.’

“Yes. I thank you for the invitation. The sword is a transition work. The trend was switching towards shorter uchigatan swords, but this one is long like a osuriage type.” Sousuke walked over to the case and peered closely at the sword. “The inscription reads ‘I disapprove of giving this to others.’ I must admit I am not certain of its significance.”

“That’s alright, Sousuke, you’ve done a miraculous job.” Miss Okibasu flashed him a glowing smile. Turning towards Mr. Kimutaku, she straightened out her mouth and continued. “I may only be a teacher, but I know that especially fine swords were handed down within a family, not sold or given to anyone else.” Her students offered her words of praise and encouragement.

The sword was not the last piece in the area. There was one more, a fine set of Domaru armor. Things did not get any better for the tour guide. He failed to realize that officers switched over to a similar armor set-up of five sections, due to issues of practicality. Naturally, Sousuke was able to instruct him in the error of his ways.

Upon the groups arrival at the next wing of the building, Mr. Kimutaku went alone to speak with another guide. When he was finished, he returned and said his farewells to the group of tourists with another grand and supercilious flourish.

As Kaname walked by, she refused to smile or offer thanks. She merely Hmmppffed and said “You need to watch out for those bold, assured, muscular but not grotesque boys. They’ll get you in trouble every time.” She tossed her hair and strode forcefully away.


************************************************************


“Kuro Kimutaku” was in a foul mood. That wasn’t his real name, but he was a tour guide. He had trained hard to research that cover, and had been functioning in that capacity since the Grand Opening. The real Mr. Kimutaku was decomposing in a bog some distance away from the museum.

The man’s true monicker was Teiichi Murisato, though he never used that, and never stayed long with any name.

Thief, spy, assassin, and one time female impersonator, his reputation was infamous in Japan and abroad. Some wag had even gone so far as to sensationalize him by coining he knick-name the Golden Gecko in honor of his unbelievable wall-scaling abilities and his penchant to leave small pieces of jewelry at the scene of his crimes.

The plot was going according to plan. Neither himself, or the other conspirators, had come across any individuals remotely resembling known members of International police groups or military organizations. The most valuable artifacts were decide upon, and the helicopters would be arriving on schedule. For the purpose of ransom money, potentially valuable visitors had been tagged. Bodyguards had been marked with materials sensitive to UV light, making their identification simple when the time came.

Truly, there was nothing to worry about. But, a man in his line of work does not survive without having good instincts. For some reason, that boy Sousuke---or Suki as he had mercilessly labeled him---made him feel uneasy. Perhaps his pride was merely singed, or the boy’s encyclopedic knowledge of martial topics made him paranoid.

He had asked Sousuke if he wanted to accompany him, to a private tour of the new Military Wing. He could even bring a small select group of comrades if he liked. What otaku could possibly turn that offer down? Nonetheless, he politely refused. It would have been a simple way to remove him. No more itch to scratch.

But, that potential thorn in his side persisted. Him, and that blue-haired girl. He did not like her.


************************************************************
End of part 9

[pilot03]

LMOA!!!!!!

[dd]

Well, up until now the plot line has been a little too mundane.

I've figured my general angle for the Museum. Folks might not like it. They might think it's a bit unbelievable. Unlike the previous stuff. As a compromise, I'll make the side characters more mainstream. Yeh, right!

The best part of this story was probably already written....Don't say you weren't warned....

[HELLFIRE]

The best part of this story was probably already written....

Awww... ya can't say you're creative juices are drying up already, are you?
Then again, the kind of antics you had Sousuke and Kaname running
thru just to get to the museum...

...no comment of Sousuke drawing attention from a person of the same
sex... not in my purview Well, a concussion grenade up a certain
anatomical part of his body would be nice






Regards

[dd]

@HF

Not grenades. Probably shurikens.

And, not everything is as it seems.

[HELLFIRE]

...I take that back that your creative juices are running out.
A terrorist op /ransom attempt in a museum, eh? This has
possibilites... uh, they forgot to mark the place "Hard Hats Required*
at the door








Regards