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Bob Biter · 09-18-2005, 04:10 PM

Hannah never wanted any of this, but no way would she trade the past two weeks of her life for anything. Could she have ever guessed that the defining moment in her life, the missing piece in her twisted puzzle, would gently float towards her in a box on a baggage carousel? Not in a million years.

She was never any good with people. Sure, she had some friends at one point, but no lover. Neither gender really had what it took to get her off properly, and that put a damper on all of her relationships. There was always something missing.

She gingerly picks up the package and inspects it, careful not to disturb its contents too much. It's so simple and elegant, wrapped in layers of origami paper folded in such a way that no strings or tape were needed. She promised herself to learn how to do that. Tetsuo would show her...

Tetsuo. Just thinking his name made her blush. When she stumbled upon his name on some random chatroom, she was instantly reminded of Akira, that great anime flick she watched every month. Tetsuo. How kind his writing was, and such feelings it awoke in her, her heart swelling with sounds of taiko drums and screaming choirs.

He was elusive, though. Frustratingly so. He led her from one website to the next for many nights, made fleeting comments about the slipperiness of tuna, sent her pictures of himself standing on a desk. He knew how to push her buttons, and she loved him for it, for they were new and unused before he found them. He said he loved her and she believed him. Why?

After all, Tetsuo is Japanese and she is Canadian! No amount of love could survive that, could it? Certainly, neither one of them would make the trip across an ocean and a continent to meet the other. Not after two weeks! No, that was absurd. So why is Hannah standing at a baggage carousel in Dorval airport?

Somehow, for some incredibly convoluted reason, she HAD to go to Japan. To take charge. To show initiative. To spend the money she had no use for, due to a complete lack of social life. To... uh... see Japan! Yeah, that's a good reason right there. Everyone's always harping about seeing Paris, Milan, New York, LA, Sydney... well what about Osaka? There's some good punk rock coming out of Osaka, mister, and the fact that Tetsuo happens to live in nearby Kyoto is just, you know, convenient is all. She knew his address, and after catching a kick-ass Shonen Knife cover band, and splurging on a nice dress with matching flash, she hopped on the train to her beloved.

His apartment had been empty for a long time. At least, that's what she figured based on her frail grasp of the Japanese language and the deft gesticulations of the old woman who owned the building. She had shoved a box in her hands. Apparently, Tetsuo had warned her about some crazy gaijin chick who would happen by and know exactly what to do with it. Hannah would have donated it to the nearest flat surface if it hadn't come with a note, written in her beloved's exquisite style. "Take this back with you, my love" it read. So simple, so filled with meaning and lacking in bullshit! She wasn't even upset she got dressed up for nothing. She held the box close to her breasts until she got to Kansai International Airport.

She went back in time. Arriving in Montreal a mere 3 hours after she left Japan and traveled by plane for 16 hours. Was that math or quantum physics? She would be pissed, but Japanese dress technology (wrinkle-free!), her breath (minty fresh!) and the package (undamaged!) more than made up for any grievance.

People were starting to stare. Canadians stare differently than the Japanese, the former look, then turn away, the latter cast furtive glances, then fixate when you finally notice them. Maybe she would take the box to a nice lunch at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, so as not to spoil the "day during which she wore a nice dress". What does a carefully folded Japanese box eat? Sushi? Natto? Pizza? The flesh of its defeated enemies? No matter, she would think of something.

Sitting in her car, she rips the delicate wrapping apart, completely desecrating hundreds of years of folding tradition. A simple wooden box remains in the way and she opens that as well.

The planets align. Heaven and Earth are joined. FOX goes bankrupt. All is well in that one perfect moment in the airport garage. Hannah and Tetsuo look deep within each other's eyes and know everything is going to be alright. She stares at him, all 7 1/2 inches of him, in a most un-Canadian way. Hannah knows Tetsuo loves her, because he dressed up like his namesake in Akira: tattered pants, boots, a ripped blood-red cape, wild hair... even that weird arm! Tetsuo knows Hannah loves him, because she came all the way to Osaka to collect him and wore a nice dress.

She brings him to her breasts, which would become his place of comfort, and lets him hear her beating heart. Just like taiko drums, it reminds him of Japan.

09-18-2005, 04:10 PM	#3 (permalink)
Bob Biter Non-smokers die everyday Location: Montreal	Hannah never wanted any of this, but no way would she trade the past two weeks of her life for anything. Could she have ever guessed that the defining moment in her life, the missing piece in her twisted puzzle, would gently float towards her in a box on a baggage carousel? Not in a million years. She was never any good with people. Sure, she had some friends at one point, but no lover. Neither gender really had what it took to get her off properly, and that put a damper on all of her relationships. There was always something missing. She gingerly picks up the package and inspects it, careful not to disturb its contents too much. It's so simple and elegant, wrapped in layers of origami paper folded in such a way that no strings or tape were needed. She promised herself to learn how to do that. Tetsuo would show her... Tetsuo. Just thinking his name made her blush. When she stumbled upon his name on some random chatroom, she was instantly reminded of Akira, that great anime flick she watched every month. Tetsuo. How kind his writing was, and such feelings it awoke in her, her heart swelling with sounds of taiko drums and screaming choirs. He was elusive, though. Frustratingly so. He led her from one website to the next for many nights, made fleeting comments about the slipperiness of tuna, sent her pictures of himself standing on a desk. He knew how to push her buttons, and she loved him for it, for they were new and unused before he found them. He said he loved her and she believed him. Why? After all, Tetsuo is Japanese and she is Canadian! No amount of love could survive that, could it? Certainly, neither one of them would make the trip across an ocean and a continent to meet the other. Not after two weeks! No, that was absurd. So why is Hannah standing at a baggage carousel in Dorval airport? Somehow, for some incredibly convoluted reason, she HAD to go to Japan. To take charge. To show initiative. To spend the money she had no use for, due to a complete lack of social life. To... uh... see Japan! Yeah, that's a good reason right there. Everyone's always harping about seeing Paris, Milan, New York, LA, Sydney... well what about Osaka? There's some good punk rock coming out of Osaka, mister, and the fact that Tetsuo happens to live in nearby Kyoto is just, you know, convenient is all. She knew his address, and after catching a kick-ass Shonen Knife cover band, and splurging on a nice dress with matching flash, she hopped on the train to her beloved. His apartment had been empty for a long time. At least, that's what she figured based on her frail grasp of the Japanese language and the deft gesticulations of the old woman who owned the building. She had shoved a box in her hands. Apparently, Tetsuo had warned her about some crazy gaijin chick who would happen by and know exactly what to do with it. Hannah would have donated it to the nearest flat surface if it hadn't come with a note, written in her beloved's exquisite style. "Take this back with you, my love" it read. So simple, so filled with meaning and lacking in bullshit! She wasn't even upset she got dressed up for nothing. She held the box close to her breasts until she got to Kansai International Airport. She went back in time. Arriving in Montreal a mere 3 hours after she left Japan and traveled by plane for 16 hours. Was that math or quantum physics? She would be pissed, but Japanese dress technology (wrinkle-free!), her breath (minty fresh!) and the package (undamaged!) more than made up for any grievance. People were starting to stare. Canadians stare differently than the Japanese, the former look, then turn away, the latter cast furtive glances, then fixate when you finally notice them. Maybe she would take the box to a nice lunch at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, so as not to spoil the "day during which she wore a nice dress". What does a carefully folded Japanese box eat? Sushi? Natto? Pizza? The flesh of its defeated enemies? No matter, she would think of something. Sitting in her car, she rips the delicate wrapping apart, completely desecrating hundreds of years of folding tradition. A simple wooden box remains in the way and she opens that as well. The planets align. Heaven and Earth are joined. FOX goes bankrupt. All is well in that one perfect moment in the airport garage. Hannah and Tetsuo look deep within each other's eyes and know everything is going to be alright. She stares at him, all 7 1/2 inches of him, in a most un-Canadian way. Hannah knows Tetsuo loves her, because he dressed up like his namesake in Akira: tattered pants, boots, a ripped blood-red cape, wild hair... even that weird arm! Tetsuo knows Hannah loves him, because she came all the way to Osaka to collect him and wore a nice dress. She brings him to her breasts, which would become his place of comfort, and lets him hear her beating heart. Just like taiko drums, it reminds him of Japan. __________________ A plan is just a list of things that don't happen. Last edited by Bob Biter; 09-18-2005 at 04:21 PM..