wonderlife (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wonderlife) wrote2012-04-27 05:59 pm
wonderlife) wrote2012-04-27 05:59 pm
Entry tags:
. . .Found
Author: Nichole
Topping: Chopped Nuts
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,652
Story Title: . . .Found
Story: AU: WE ARE
Summary: Jiro looks for the girl he once knew; somewhere out there she's looking for him
Over the past five years things had gone a bit downhill for Jiro. When his parents abandoned him – running away from debts with his two brothers – Jiro had thought his life was over. The following year things had gotten better for him; that was the year he had met Nojima Kazuko. She had been six, recently orphaned after the suicide of her mother. Kazuko was six years Jiro’s junior, yet she looked much younger while acting much older. A sullen girl with big eyes and long hair, Kazuko reminded Jiro of a doll. The others in the orphanage teased Kazuko about everything: from her refusal to speak, to her parents suicides; nothing had been off limits to them. On Kazuko’s tenth day in the orphanage, Jiro had decided to be her protector. He’d been her brother, father, and mother; her family. And he had been – until they were separated for being “unnaturally close”. After that, things had sort of gone downhill.
February 21, 2007
The handcuffs always made Jiro’s wrist itchy. He couldn’t quite figure out why, though some of the officers suggested he was allergic to the metal they used to make them. During the past four years he had been cuffed only a few times: mostly when being moved around the prison he had called home since he was eighteen. He thought after years it would stop; yet, the itchiness remained.
They brought him to the Warden’s office, keeping the cuffs on him; the guards sat him down clumsily. Jiro supposed the Warden wanted to speak with him about his upcoming release. Jiro knew they were all nervous about what he would do once out; that he would go in search of Kazuko or harm himself in some way. Jiro still remembered all the questions the doctors had asked him years before:
Did you ever touch Kazuko-chan in an inappropriate manner?
No. I could barely hug her without her getting all stiff and nervous.
Did you have sex with her? Did you ever think of having sex with Kazuko-chan?
No. Never. She’s a little girl.
Do you find yourself only attracted to young girls?
No. I’m attracted to older women, actually.
Did you ever masturbate after spending time with Kazuko-chan?
No. Why are you being disgusting?
Jiro knew they didn’t believe him. He didn’t care if they did or not, because he knew the truth. Kazuko was his friend, and he’d find her again; they needed each other, after all.
When the Warden finally arrived the portly man looked miserable. He didn’t even sit down, instead he took Jiro’s cuffs hands into his; “I’m so sorry, Jiro. I . . . I thought you should know that. . . Nojima Kazuko went missing two months ago. Police believe she may be –“
“No, please don’t. . .” Jiro never finished his sentence; he broke down into heart wrenching sobs instead.
March 18th, 2007
Jiro blinked in the sunlight, trying to get his eyes to quickly adjust as he walked out of the prison that he’d called home for the past few years. As he walked toward the nearest bus stop, he wondered just what he’d do now. For years he had planned to go in search of Kazuko, but now . . . he wanted to look for her but was unsure of where to start.
If Kazuko had truly run away she would have headed toward Tokyo – toward him. And that meant that somewhere in the miles and miles of Tokyo, tiny little Nojima Kazuko was waiting for him.
March 19th, 2007
Nojima Kazuko was dead; Masaki Taka lived in her place.
“Yo, Masa!” Yoon Shin-woo waved cheerily to the teenager who was mere inches in front of him. “Masaki Taka, looking good.” Leaning over the table, he reached out and pinched Taka’s right cheek. “You are so darn cute!” Taka simply blinked; Shin-woo cleared his throat awkwardly. “Right, okay. Just a few things this week: the girlfriend is going to bring you more food, so don’t worry. I’m going to get you a new television, promise.” He smiled warmly. “Oh, and I may have found your friend, uh, What’s His Name.”
“Jiro.” Taka’s eyes lit up, she sat straighter, and her lips tugged into a near smile – it was the most emotional Shin-woo had ever seen her. “You found him, really and truly?”
Shin-woo nodded slowly. “I found him. Maybe. This guy was put into a juvenile detention center at age seventeen for battery of an employee at the orphanage you two were out. He was supposed to be let out seven months later, but he ended up nearly killing two staff members of the center.” Shin-woo let out a low whistle. “Your friend has quite a temper. He’s spent the last four years and seven months in jail for attempted murder. He’s getting off pretty easily, actually.”
“Now?”
“Right,” Shin-woo shook his head, clearing it of his wondering thoughts. “he’s here, in Tokyo.” Taka opened her mouth, but Shin-woo held a hand up before she could speak. “Stop; no talking. I’ve already got the online community looking for him. He’s picture’s out there,” he made a whooshing move with his hands. “in cyberspace.”
Taka cocked her head to one side. The perfect truth was she had no idea what cyberspace was. Still, she knew Shin-woo was honest with her; she knew he was intelligent enough to understand everything.
“Stay indoors during the days. At night from four to five o’clock in the afternoon, go to the playground just outside the apartment and wait. If we can find your friend, he’ll meet you there.” Shin-woo smiled fondly at her. “I’ll bring you more food tomorrow, Masa.”
April 2nd, 2007
It hadn’t made much sense; the email Jiro received that morning. He hadn’t even been aware that anyone had his email address. The email had simply read: ”I know where Nojima Kazuko is.” followed by an address and the words: ”I’ll be in the toilets.”. The address had bought Jiro to a McDonald's.
The restroom wasn’t very clean, though Jiro didn’t notice that. What he did notice was the rather tall man leaning against one of the sinks and playing a hand-held video game. The guy was dressed in tight pants, a silk shirt, and leather boots – Jiro thought the guy looked like a tacky idiot. Wordlessly, Jiro walked over to the guy, and grabbing him by the collar, shoved Mr. Tacky up against the sink.
“Whoa!” Mr. Tacky dropped his game onto the floor, rolling his eyes as it made a loud ‘thud’ sound. “Ah, now it’s gonna be covered in pee.” He struggled to get out of Jiro’s tight grip, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Hands off the imitation silk, man!”
Jiro ignored him, choosing to focus on the important matter at hand. His eyes burned into Mr. Tacky; somehow Jiro didn’t look all that human anymore. “Where is Kazuko?” Jiro’s voice was low, dangerously so. One wrong word and. . . .
“Kazuko is,” Mr. Tacky let a smile slowly form across his lips. “someone I used to know. If you let me go, I’ll explain everything.”
Jiro stared deeply at Mr. Tacky for a long moment, before roughly shoving him further into the sink. Mr. Tacky let out a loud groan of pain, but tried not to show just how much Jiro had hurt him.
Mr. Tacky dusted imaginary lint off his clothing. “You’re very polite in your insanity. I’m Shin-woo, by the way.” Shin-woo noticed Jiro glare; nervously he cleared his throat. “Nojima Kazuko is . . . she died.” Jiro started toward him. “Now, now – it’s okay. Masaki Taka rose up from Kazuko’s ashes.”
Quickly he took his mobile phone from his pocket and held it up for Jiro to see. The screensaver was a picture of two women – one of him was the supposedly dead Nojima Kazuko. She looked much more mature than Jiro remember, but it was her. Her eyes hiding secrets no one would ever know; her expression emotionless and yet warm. Without thinking, Jiro grabbed the phone from Shin-woo’s hand to get a closer look.
“Masaki Taka?”
“Pretty name isn’t it? She came up with it herself. She’s waiting for you, you know. She came all the way here – all by herself and with nothing – for you. Do you want to know where she is?”
April 2nd, 2007
In a tiny park, on a rusty swing, Taka waited. As she had waited before; as she would wait again. Until he came to her.
He saw her sitting on the swing, gently moving back and forth before he was certain it was her. Never taking his eyes off her, he slowly strolled toward her. There was something in the back of his mind that told him he might scare her if he approached her too quickly. It had been such a long time since they had seen each other. He hadn’t shaved and his clothes were old and dirty. Suddenly Jiro wished he had stopped to shower and get new clothes.
She lifted her head just in time to see him strolling toward her. Slowly but surely he approached her with the smallest hint of a grin. Silently she watched him; she didn’t move, didn’t breathe. She just kept her eyes on him.
He stopped in front of her and knelt down onto one knee. Gingerly he took both her hands into his and smiled sweetly. “Hello. Aren’t you a pretty girl. What’s your name? Would you like to come home with me? Would you like to be my family?”
She felt tears welling up in her eyes. Slowly she nodded her head. There was a large part of her that wanted to smile, but she couldn’t accomplish the task, not yet. Instead she hugged him as tightly as she could.
Finally what was lost had been found.
Topping: Chopped Nuts
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,652
Story Title: . . .Found
Story: AU: WE ARE
Summary: Jiro looks for the girl he once knew; somewhere out there she's looking for him
Over the past five years things had gone a bit downhill for Jiro. When his parents abandoned him – running away from debts with his two brothers – Jiro had thought his life was over. The following year things had gotten better for him; that was the year he had met Nojima Kazuko. She had been six, recently orphaned after the suicide of her mother. Kazuko was six years Jiro’s junior, yet she looked much younger while acting much older. A sullen girl with big eyes and long hair, Kazuko reminded Jiro of a doll. The others in the orphanage teased Kazuko about everything: from her refusal to speak, to her parents suicides; nothing had been off limits to them. On Kazuko’s tenth day in the orphanage, Jiro had decided to be her protector. He’d been her brother, father, and mother; her family. And he had been – until they were separated for being “unnaturally close”. After that, things had sort of gone downhill.
February 21, 2007
The handcuffs always made Jiro’s wrist itchy. He couldn’t quite figure out why, though some of the officers suggested he was allergic to the metal they used to make them. During the past four years he had been cuffed only a few times: mostly when being moved around the prison he had called home since he was eighteen. He thought after years it would stop; yet, the itchiness remained.
They brought him to the Warden’s office, keeping the cuffs on him; the guards sat him down clumsily. Jiro supposed the Warden wanted to speak with him about his upcoming release. Jiro knew they were all nervous about what he would do once out; that he would go in search of Kazuko or harm himself in some way. Jiro still remembered all the questions the doctors had asked him years before:
Did you ever touch Kazuko-chan in an inappropriate manner?
No. I could barely hug her without her getting all stiff and nervous.
Did you have sex with her? Did you ever think of having sex with Kazuko-chan?
No. Never. She’s a little girl.
Do you find yourself only attracted to young girls?
No. I’m attracted to older women, actually.
Did you ever masturbate after spending time with Kazuko-chan?
No. Why are you being disgusting?
Jiro knew they didn’t believe him. He didn’t care if they did or not, because he knew the truth. Kazuko was his friend, and he’d find her again; they needed each other, after all.
When the Warden finally arrived the portly man looked miserable. He didn’t even sit down, instead he took Jiro’s cuffs hands into his; “I’m so sorry, Jiro. I . . . I thought you should know that. . . Nojima Kazuko went missing two months ago. Police believe she may be –“
“No, please don’t. . .” Jiro never finished his sentence; he broke down into heart wrenching sobs instead.
March 18th, 2007
Jiro blinked in the sunlight, trying to get his eyes to quickly adjust as he walked out of the prison that he’d called home for the past few years. As he walked toward the nearest bus stop, he wondered just what he’d do now. For years he had planned to go in search of Kazuko, but now . . . he wanted to look for her but was unsure of where to start.
If Kazuko had truly run away she would have headed toward Tokyo – toward him. And that meant that somewhere in the miles and miles of Tokyo, tiny little Nojima Kazuko was waiting for him.
March 19th, 2007
Nojima Kazuko was dead; Masaki Taka lived in her place.
“Yo, Masa!” Yoon Shin-woo waved cheerily to the teenager who was mere inches in front of him. “Masaki Taka, looking good.” Leaning over the table, he reached out and pinched Taka’s right cheek. “You are so darn cute!” Taka simply blinked; Shin-woo cleared his throat awkwardly. “Right, okay. Just a few things this week: the girlfriend is going to bring you more food, so don’t worry. I’m going to get you a new television, promise.” He smiled warmly. “Oh, and I may have found your friend, uh, What’s His Name.”
“Jiro.” Taka’s eyes lit up, she sat straighter, and her lips tugged into a near smile – it was the most emotional Shin-woo had ever seen her. “You found him, really and truly?”
Shin-woo nodded slowly. “I found him. Maybe. This guy was put into a juvenile detention center at age seventeen for battery of an employee at the orphanage you two were out. He was supposed to be let out seven months later, but he ended up nearly killing two staff members of the center.” Shin-woo let out a low whistle. “Your friend has quite a temper. He’s spent the last four years and seven months in jail for attempted murder. He’s getting off pretty easily, actually.”
“Now?”
“Right,” Shin-woo shook his head, clearing it of his wondering thoughts. “he’s here, in Tokyo.” Taka opened her mouth, but Shin-woo held a hand up before she could speak. “Stop; no talking. I’ve already got the online community looking for him. He’s picture’s out there,” he made a whooshing move with his hands. “in cyberspace.”
Taka cocked her head to one side. The perfect truth was she had no idea what cyberspace was. Still, she knew Shin-woo was honest with her; she knew he was intelligent enough to understand everything.
“Stay indoors during the days. At night from four to five o’clock in the afternoon, go to the playground just outside the apartment and wait. If we can find your friend, he’ll meet you there.” Shin-woo smiled fondly at her. “I’ll bring you more food tomorrow, Masa.”
April 2nd, 2007
It hadn’t made much sense; the email Jiro received that morning. He hadn’t even been aware that anyone had his email address. The email had simply read: ”I know where Nojima Kazuko is.” followed by an address and the words: ”I’ll be in the toilets.”. The address had bought Jiro to a McDonald's.
The restroom wasn’t very clean, though Jiro didn’t notice that. What he did notice was the rather tall man leaning against one of the sinks and playing a hand-held video game. The guy was dressed in tight pants, a silk shirt, and leather boots – Jiro thought the guy looked like a tacky idiot. Wordlessly, Jiro walked over to the guy, and grabbing him by the collar, shoved Mr. Tacky up against the sink.
“Whoa!” Mr. Tacky dropped his game onto the floor, rolling his eyes as it made a loud ‘thud’ sound. “Ah, now it’s gonna be covered in pee.” He struggled to get out of Jiro’s tight grip, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Hands off the imitation silk, man!”
Jiro ignored him, choosing to focus on the important matter at hand. His eyes burned into Mr. Tacky; somehow Jiro didn’t look all that human anymore. “Where is Kazuko?” Jiro’s voice was low, dangerously so. One wrong word and. . . .
“Kazuko is,” Mr. Tacky let a smile slowly form across his lips. “someone I used to know. If you let me go, I’ll explain everything.”
Jiro stared deeply at Mr. Tacky for a long moment, before roughly shoving him further into the sink. Mr. Tacky let out a loud groan of pain, but tried not to show just how much Jiro had hurt him.
Mr. Tacky dusted imaginary lint off his clothing. “You’re very polite in your insanity. I’m Shin-woo, by the way.” Shin-woo noticed Jiro glare; nervously he cleared his throat. “Nojima Kazuko is . . . she died.” Jiro started toward him. “Now, now – it’s okay. Masaki Taka rose up from Kazuko’s ashes.”
Quickly he took his mobile phone from his pocket and held it up for Jiro to see. The screensaver was a picture of two women – one of him was the supposedly dead Nojima Kazuko. She looked much more mature than Jiro remember, but it was her. Her eyes hiding secrets no one would ever know; her expression emotionless and yet warm. Without thinking, Jiro grabbed the phone from Shin-woo’s hand to get a closer look.
“Masaki Taka?”
“Pretty name isn’t it? She came up with it herself. She’s waiting for you, you know. She came all the way here – all by herself and with nothing – for you. Do you want to know where she is?”
April 2nd, 2007
In a tiny park, on a rusty swing, Taka waited. As she had waited before; as she would wait again. Until he came to her.
He saw her sitting on the swing, gently moving back and forth before he was certain it was her. Never taking his eyes off her, he slowly strolled toward her. There was something in the back of his mind that told him he might scare her if he approached her too quickly. It had been such a long time since they had seen each other. He hadn’t shaved and his clothes were old and dirty. Suddenly Jiro wished he had stopped to shower and get new clothes.
She lifted her head just in time to see him strolling toward her. Slowly but surely he approached her with the smallest hint of a grin. Silently she watched him; she didn’t move, didn’t breathe. She just kept her eyes on him.
He stopped in front of her and knelt down onto one knee. Gingerly he took both her hands into his and smiled sweetly. “Hello. Aren’t you a pretty girl. What’s your name? Would you like to come home with me? Would you like to be my family?”
She felt tears welling up in her eyes. Slowly she nodded her head. There was a large part of her that wanted to smile, but she couldn’t accomplish the task, not yet. Instead she hugged him as tightly as she could.
Finally what was lost had been found.