Fornication Under Consent of King
By the way, this story was inspired by Lord RaaÆs æAnd ThatÆs Terrible.Æ, a fine example of high-class literature that belongs in the upper pantheons of fanfic writing.
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A day or two agoà.
The island of MolMol was a peaceful island, inhabited by peaceful, if rather eccentric, people, who were blessed with peaceful, yet startlingly brilliant, minds, who peacefully endeavoured to discover new technologically advanced ways to wage warà.or so it would seem to outsiders. After all, it was all done in the interest of peace. Not that they were designed to wage war in the first place anyway. Slicing bread had never been easier after the domestic application of positron beam rifles. It toasts the bread while it was at it too. Death and destruction was, unfortunately, just a by-product.
They believed that peace was everything. Peace was love and love was peace. Therefore, Love too was everything. It stood to reason.
The flowers in the royal gardens swayed gently under the passing breeze, perfuming the late spring air with their thick rich scent. The trees rustled gently. The birdbath spluttered and gurgled. The birds in the birdbath sang a beautiful, if rather damp, chirpy song. Bumblebees buzzed busily amongst the blossoms. Otherwise, it was all peaceful and quietà
ôWHAAAAAAAAAAT?!ö
An angered roar rang through the hazy air.
Birds abruptly took flight. The birds in the birdbath skittered and slipped first before doing the same, albeit dripping embarrassingly in the process. The wind howled. Volcanoes erupted. The very earth shook and cracked.
à.Pathetic fallacy goes far here in MolMolà
ôDEATH! DESTRUCTION! WAR!ö
It was obviously time to leave MolMolà.
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Present Dayà
The island nation of Japan, on the other hand, was far from being peaceful. In fact, the top brass had rather abruptly declared a state of emergency. The beaches had been sandbagged and fortified. The Air Force were watching every single cloud as if theyÆd suddenly spawn death itself. The Navy had been restlessly patrolling the coast, watching every little wave for tell tale v-like ripples.
As usual though, the public were kept safely in the darkàwell, at least until the darkness turns bright with all the artillery fireà.
It had all seemed like a joke. Albeit a rather lame and humourless one, yet still a joke. The Japanese diplomat had laughed uneasily, mostly out of politeness, before being deported on the spot and sent back with a rather dark message, one rather lacking in terms of manners and, perhaps, words, yet more than made up for it in the amount of exclamation marks.
Said letter scared the hell out of the Minister of Foreign Affairs whose poor heart almost gave up at that very instant. Too bad it didnÆt. Otherwise, heÆd have been sparred the embarrassment that followed.
The prime minister had immediately picked up the phone and dialed up all the right people, who, after a brief and confused conversation, didnÆt seem so right after all. In the end he was left with a choice. Either call Her, or the priest. At the moment lying down to die didnÆt seem like the best of options and he had the eerie feeling that theyÆd dig him up and resurrect him just to have the pleasure of killing him personally with their own preferred method, thus the priest was out of the question.
Her it was then.
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Urashima Haruka hadnÆt had a good day. She had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, that is, the side that had all of SarahÆs toys on (most of which she shared with Suu and considering that they too had ædeath and destructionÆ labeled under æby-productsÆ, it wasnÆt a nice way to wake up), she had ran out of toothpaste and toilet paper (a bit too late with the latter, after which she found that the toilet wouldnÆt flush), her toaster had spat out a pair of badly burnt pieces of carbonized carbohydrates and even those later fell on the floor buttered side down, the milk had gone sour, which led to the discovery that somebody had stolen her refrigeratorÆs compressor, and, to top it all off, the phone rang.
Just as she was looking through the phone book in search of a repairman and had stopped to look at an add offering a positron beam bread slicer/toaster tooà.
It was a rather funny conversation too. How funny? It had begun with æHELP!ö
Something exploded in the distanceà
It was one of those daysà
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Meanwhile,
ôHmmm, thatÆs nice to know. Tsuruko-sanÆs finally expecting.ö Mitsune smiled as Motoko placed the letter from her sister down on the coffee table with a reverential flourish. ôShe must be really happy.ö
ôWhatÆs æexpectingÆ? Is it edible?ö A voice asked.
It didnÆt take a rocket genius to guess who asked the questionà.though from the looks of it, it takes a rocket genius to ask it.
ôN-no, not really, Suu-chan.ö Mitsune said, rather nervously. Motoko, meanwhile, coughed dryly and remained quiet. Some topics were better left untouched. Well, yes, they were merely brushing the surface, but knowing Suu, sheÆd start excavating said surface sooner or later.
How on earth does one give sex ed to a banana crazed foreigner anyway?
Not in their lifetimes, they decided. Thus they steered clear of the surface completely.
ôWellà.is it a really happy feeling then?ö Suu persisted. Curiosity often kills cats but SuuÆs curiosity killed off the entire pet shop and burned it down before proceeding to slaughter an entire savannahÆs worth of lions.
There was, excuse the description, a pregnant pause.
ôàwh-what makes you think that, Suu?ö Mitsune finally ventured.
ôBecause you said MotokoÆs sister was æexpectingÆ and that sheÆs happy.ö Suu said innocently.
This came from a mind whose logic bent metal and harnessed lightning into fearsome spawns of insanityà
The two young women gave the young MolMolian a searching gaze.
Motoko finally cleared her throat. ôErràyes, Suu-chanà.you got it dead right.ö
ôYay! I got it right!ö Suu shouted in triumph before bounding away. ôExpecting, expecting, yay!ö
The two ladies shivered slightly in the rather awkward silence that followed. It was late spring and the warmth far from warranted any shiveringà.but it felt as if an ill wind had just blown by.
ôà.did we just do something wrong?ö Mitsune asked, feeling, as she rarely did, somewhat guilty.
ôN-no, off course not.ö Motoko chuckled uneasily. ôWhat harm could it do?ö
àA lot of harm, as they later found outà..
Anyway, the explosion happened next, the same one Haruka heard from the teashop as she picked up the phone.
Yes, it was one of those daysà.
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ôAnd you called me up for THIS?ö Haruka asked, her eyebrow twitching dangerously. Even the hardiest of men would normally start putting as much distance between them and her at the hint.
Indeed, this was the case with the Prime Minister. Unfortunately, the maximum distance he could put between himself and her was the width of his desk, over which Haruka was now leaning threateningly, his retreat cut off by the formerly comfortable leather office chair. He made a mental note to replace said desk with a wider desk if he is somehow spared the necessity of the priestÆs services.
ôHelp me Oba-san!ö A voice, slightly muffled by all the digital recording systems and circuitry between the source and them, cried out. The form of the voiceÆs owner, cruelly tied up, showed up on a large plasma TV hanging on one side of the Prime MinisterÆs office.
ôà.is all that necessary?ö Haruka asked, giving the rather pathetic form in the plasma screen a brief glance before again subjecting the Prime Minister to a diamond edged stare. Truth be told, she had an awful urge to tighten all those chords currently tying up her nephew, but right now she had to play her cards right. ôAfter all, my nephewÆs too helpless to even escape a simple locked room.ö
ôàyou donÆt have to be that blunt, Haruka-sanà.ö Keitaro muttered, tears streaming down his face.
ôWellàyou seeà.the problem isà.ö The Prime Minister steepled his fingers in an effort to regain some composure. HeÆs seen lots of great charismatic leaders take up this pose before imparting critical information or commands upon subordinates. ItÆs supposed to give off a strong, confident, charismatic air.
àonly, all said effects seemed rather lost on Harukaà
ôà.the king of MolMol has just declared war on usàö He finished, his voice shaking slightly. Although heÆd be the last to say it, HarukaÆs mere presence had a strongly intimidating aura associated with it, and currently it was toying with him mercilessly.
ôWhat kind of madman would declare a war on a country where his daughterÆs residing at?!ö The Secretary General cried out in a fit of nerves.
ôHeÆs rich, isnÆt he?ö Haruka asked, simply.
The Prime Minister and Secetary General both blinked. ôerrrà.yes, he is a monarch of one of the worldÆs technological superpowers after allà.ö The Prime Minister finally answered, not seeing where this was going at all.
ôWell, then heÆs not mad. If heÆs rich then heÆs just eccentric.ö Haruka shrugged, lighting up a cigarette. ôWhereÆs the ashtray?ö
The Prime Minister, a non-smoker himself, almost imperceptibly crinkled his nose but asked one of the clerks to fetch an ashtray all the same.
ôBesides, he knows that whoever tries to touch his daughter will cease being described in terms of biology and forevermore be remembered in terms of topographical geography.ö She said, taking a drag on the cancer stick. ôà.and perhaps general Japanese modern history, in the case of some people here.ö She added after a thought, accompanying it with a glare that said ædonÆt you dare hold the girl for ransomÆ.
The Prime Minister gulped. The thought had occurred to him, but now he realized that foreign affairs really wasnÆt his field. A small part of his mind fervently prayed that topographical geography and Japanese modern history would never be a part of it either. There was a deadly feel to those subjects.
ôAhàHaruka-chanàö He started.
ôShut up. WeÆre not in primary school anymore.ö Haruka snapped as the clerk hurried in with the ashtray. After tapping off some ash on the tray she finally asked, ôAll rightà.what did WE do to piss off the King of MolMol?ö
ôItÆs aà.errràa rather strange reasonà.ö He sighed. ôKeitaro-san?ö He looked up at the tied up form that was now the plasma screenÆs main feature.
ôY-Yes?ö Keitaro gulped. Something told him he wasnÆt going to like thisà
ôWellàI guess you have the right to listen too. This has something to do with you after allàö the Prime Minister conceded. ôàEverything to do with you, actuallyàö He finally decided.
ôàyesà?ö Haruka said, her voice hinting that if the question isnÆt answered soon then the King of MolMol wouldnÆt be the only one pissed off around here.
ôWellàyou seeà.the kingà.ö
To put it in a nutshell, the king WASNÆT happyà.
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ôI say we hand over the boyÆs head on a silver platter!ö The Minister of Defense shouted, slamming his fists down on the table. A few of the other ministers seated around said table winced at the idea but found, mostly to their own horror, agreeing with the Minister of DefenseÆs suggestion. After all, the prospect of ending up the by-product of advanced-technology-assisted bread slicing wasnÆt a very bright one.
After all, better some obscure boy than meàI mean, the entire country, right?
ôItÆs a very delicate matter.ö The Prime Minister said. ôWe donÆt even know what the real problem is.ö
ôItÆs obvious, isnÆt it?ö The Minister of Domestic Affairs said with a disapproving sniff. ôHe went ballistic the moment he heard his daughter was staying at an all-girls dorm run by a man.ö
The entire cabinet assembled went silent, each making solemn vows to pass some sort of law banning male managers from running all-girls dorms if they ever survived this ordealà.and perhaps harem mangas and animes while they were at it. Why they came to that last conclusion they didnÆt know, but it felt like the thing to do all the same.
ôWell thenà.errrà.thatÆs why in a few more minutes weÆre going to open up a channel of communication with the king whoÆs currentlyàö the Prime Minister paused to look down at his notes before gulping. ôàOn board the MolMol NavyÆs flagship thatÆs currently sitting right outside our borders, along with his entire fleet.ö
ôBut the manÆs daughter is here, isnÆt she?ö The Minister of Education suddenly spoke up.
A glare from the other side of the room made him feel like a really bad pupil who was about to get the scolding of his life. The source of the glare, Urashima Haruka, stood up. ôI personally believe that the matter should be resolved by the daughter. It is a father-daughter issue after all.ö
Everyone looked at one another. If it had come from anyone else, they would have dismissed it as a mad idea, but this suggestion came from Urashima Haruka. They knew the woman, each in their own personal way. Some remembered her as the girl whoÆd defend their younger nerdy selves against bullies. Some remembered her as the leader of the most feared high school gang who had warded off the even bigger bullies.
This must work. It must.
àjust in case it doesnÆt, every one of them already had the priestÆs number on speed dialà.
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ôSuu!ö The big, tanned, regally moustached face on the screen gave the young girl standing before it a hearty smile. ôHavenÆt seen you in a while, dear daughter, how are you?ö He said, in heavily accented Japanese. It seemed as if the King had taken the time to pick up some Japanese in case his daughter somehow decided to stick with it.
Indeed, she did.
ôIÆm all fine, papa!ö Suu said with a grin. She was somewhat bewildered over the fact that a lot of big men in black suits and shades had stormed the Hinata Sou earlier and kidnapped Keitaro. She was even more bewildered over the fact that some of them, after a royal trouncing from her (might be nice to report that a good few of them had a refrigerator compressor/ultra-deconstipator-o-matic-in-the-making explode in their face), finally voiced their plea for her to come with them. But nothing bewildered her more than the fact that they had asked her to spend a few minutes talking with her Papa.
She just did it anyway, just because they had dragged off Keitaro, deciding that worst come to worst sheÆd just self-destruct the entire island of Honshu.
ôDo you really think thisÆll somehow resolve the problem?ö The Prime Minister asked from behind a one way mirror looking into the transmission room where Suu was.
ôJust watch.ö Haruka shrugged. Personally, she knew this was a gamble, knowing how Suu was, but it was all or nothing.
ôSo, SuuàI heard youÆre currently living in a dorm run by aàö He paused to lick his lips. ôà.a male managerà.ö He finished, putting on a pose with his hands on his hips reminiscent of Henry VIII but with an option on Henry IX and Henry V as well.
Suu was perhaps the last ever person to ever identify what some may call a luring sentence or a fishing line. Despite the fact that her mind could grasp quantum mechanics and bioengineering and simultaneously juggle it with nuclear physics, her knowledge of the everyday nuts and bolts of social interactions was just as good as her understanding of the word æexpectingÆ. The KingÆs lure caught with a satisfying snag. ôYes, Papa, his nameÆs Keitaro.ö She smiled. ôHeÆs really nice, and really funny too. You should meet him.ö
ôErr, yes. Actually, Suu, I wanted to speak to you about him.ö The King rumbled on. ôSoà.do youà.get along with him?ö He ventured.
Keitaro, who was watching the entire conversation through the screens set up in his chamber by the guards in suits, started to sweat. The matter of his life and death has often rested in SuuÆs fingers, mostly when they were holding the triggers of some newly developed death ray/deconstipator/something-o-matic of some description, but never have they mattered so much as now. He gulped. If he somehow made it through this, he swore heÆd buy Suu all the bananas she could ever wish for.
ôYes, Papa. KeitaroÆs lotÆs of fun!ö Suu said. The watchers all held their breath. ôHeÆs kind and gentle too, and he plays with me a lot. HeÆs especially fun at night!ö
The watchers gasped. The Prime Minister could already see Japan crumbling into ruin before his very eyes. Keitaro on the other hand could already see himself being offered up on a silver platter with a slice of lemon and perhaps some tartar sauce.
Narusegawa Naru, who had followed the others to the Parliament building and was currently watching alongside Haruka and the Prime Minister from behind the one-way mirror, found herself clenching her fists at SuuÆs remark. ôAt night, eh?ö She murmured.
ôSuu-chanà.ö Shinobu murmured beside Naru, her eyes as large as saucers.
ôAt night?ö The King asked, leaning forwards towards the screen, his expression turning into something that, if circumstances were different, may pass for intrigue. Currently, it passed for searching suspicion with an option on severe constipation coupled with painful bowel movements.
ôYes, at night. I sleep with him a lot. We always have lots and lots of fun together!ö Suu said innocently in butterfly tones. ôOh, with NaruNaru too!ö
Flight of said butterfly tones rained thunder down upon the watchers.
The Prime Minister fell to his knees. ôW-weÆre doomedà.ö He mumbled. The rest of his ministers had their hand phones out and were in the process of speed-dialing a recently programmed number.
ôLots of fun, eh?ö The King nodded.
ôYes, he makes me so happy!ö Suu said happily, getting so caught up in her speech that she was starting to loose the handle of the media of said speech, namely language. She had started to pull out words at random.
ôSo happy thatà.thatàö Suu searched for a word that described it properly before finding one she had just learnt earlier that day. ôàthat IÆm expecting!ö
à..
For a split second the Prime Minister fervently prayed that the KingÆs Japanese language tutors hadnÆt covered that last word.
The KingÆs eyes widened so very slightly.
Apparently, much to the Prime MinisterÆs horror, the tutors were quite thoroughà.
Many pairs of eyes (the ones other than the KingÆs) turned blank. A number of cell-phones clattered onto the floor before simultaneously giving out disconnection tones. HarukaÆs cigarette, still hanging from her lips, burned on, forgotten, to the point where an inchÆs worth of ash fell unheeded to the floor.
Keitaro knew he was dead and had quietly performed a little funeral rite in his mind, entrusting his soul to any deity up there whoÆd accept him. He knew that no one else would bother giving him a funeral. TheyÆd be too busy cursing his dead body. Right now he was just trying to weigh out whoÆd give him a quicker and less painful death, the Kingàor Naruà
NaruÆs nails had dug deep into her palms. She was now shaking with rage. Somehow the fate of Japan didnÆt really occur to her. All her mind registered at the moment was the need to pummel a certain pervert to death before chasing him to hell and giving him even further pummeling.
Mitsune, her mouth hanging wide open, looked around at Motokoàwho seemed to have disappeared. She ventured a glance downwards and found Motoko slumped, kneeling on the floor, her mouth opening and closing incomprehensibly.
ôGodàweÆve just single-handedly brought death down upon all of Japanàö Mitsune thought in horror. Her father had always said she was destined for greatness. Well, this was greatness all right. Not many could destroy entire countries with mere speech.
Motoko had started to laugh quietly, the uneasy hysterical laugh of the utterly defeated.
ôBehead the boy, now!ö The Minister of Defense suddenly found his voice in some forgotten corner of his throat, cowering and shuddering with utter fright. ôNOW!ö
A strange, alien sound reached their ear-drums. At first it was so alien, so foreign, that it inspired utter bone-chilling fear. And then, as their minds finally caught up, they somehow started to identify the sound.
It was laughter.
It was a rich, royal laughter, hearty and light.
The all looked up at the screen.
To their utter amazement, the King had his head thrown back, laughing as if the world was all kittens and puppies and everything else that was cute, cuddly, and potentially a source of allergies.
ôThis is the greatest news IÆve had in a while!ö He boomed.
ôWhat?!ö The Prime Minister gasped, his face a riddle of incredulity. The other ministers had done a good job of mimicking it too.
ôWHAT?!ö Keitaro too gasped. This might not mean the frying pan, but he had a feeling the fire was still down there somewhere, waiting for him.
The door behind him slammed open to reveal an auburn haired girl who was flaming at the edges, giving off a murderous aura so thick that it quickly permeated the room and chocked everyone present including the guards.
ôN-Naru, itÆs all a misunderstanding! Really! Iàö
Nobody at the transmission room noticed that the surveillance monitors watching KeitaroÆs room all went fuzzy for a few moments before turning blue.
ôD-does this meanàweÆre not going to die?ö Mitsune tensed, as if watching the last dice spin about on its edge, not knowing whether it was safe to be relieved or not.
Motoko, on the other hand, had lapsed into quiet hiccups.
ôI was starting to get worried about you, Suu.ö The King said in a hearty voice. ôYouÆve been in Japan for so long and yet I still hadnÆt received any news of you finding a man. And suddenly I hear that you have had a man for a dorm manager for a good two years and yet it seemed like nothing had happened.ö He said, sighing. ôThat really made me blow my top. How could he be caring for my beautiful irresistible daughter and yet make no moves whatsoever?ö He frowned for a bit. ôBut now everythingÆs cleared up. Looks like the man has lived up to the expectation of his species.ö He nodded with satisfaction, his generous moustache waving along to amplify the sentiment.
Everyone present was staring open-mouthed at the King.
ôWell, itÆs good to know that my grandchildren are on the way.ö He said, his face lit up to the point that it almost looked boyish. ôOh, IÆve got to call the Prime Minister and tell him IÆm calling off the war. I hope heÆd accept my apology for the misunderstanding. I mean, now I can see that his government runs one fine country. Look, my dear daughterÆs living proof of that, all happy and expecting.ö He beamed.
The awkward silence that followed was broken by one the clerks speaking up, ôSir, do we still need to behead the boy?ö He asked the Minister of Defense.
ôWhat? The Boy? Are you crazy, man?! The boyÆs our insurance policy, our lifeline. No, his head stays on his shoulders. The fate of Japan rests on it.ö The Minister of defense said.
The room behind the one-way mirrors exploded in cheers and laughter as a wave of pure relief washed over them. The war was called off! Nobody had to fry under the bread toasting positron beams!
MotokoÆs hiccups gave away to quiet sobs of relief.
Mitsune laughed so hard that she felt as if her gut was about to crack under the strain. She didnÆt care. Japan was saved!
ôButàö
Everyone looked around at the source of the voice, giving it a look normally reserved for the vilest of party poopers, daring him to challenge the outcome of ordeal.
ôErràö The source of the voice, the Minister of Education, faltered a bit under the collective stares, but rallied up, like students at a biology pep rally, and said, ôHe thinks his daughterÆs expectingà.ö
Everyone stared.
The Minister of Culture and Art coughed and asked, ôwellàisnÆt she?ö
ôWerenÆt you listening?ö The Prime Minister sighed. ôHaruka-chan has given her complete assurance that Urashima Keitaro has done nothing of the sort.ö
ôWell, she couldÆve laid down her guard one eveningàö The Minister of Agriculture suggested, before he found himself frying under the gazes of all the other ministers. ôOopsàsorry, Haruka-chan, thatÆs not possible, is it? Sorryàö He mumbled.
ôThenà.why did she say she was expecting?ö The Minister of Culture and Art asked, before gasping, ôIt couldnÆt beàö
ôNo, itÆs not what you think.ö Mitsune finally spoke up. She looked down at Motoko who was eyeing her with a look of utter terror. She shook her head and rallied, ôItÆs a rather funny storyà.ö She started with a defiant smile, and when she realized that nobody was prepared to be amused, she decided to tell it as it was.
It wasnÆt pretty.
Good thing Keitaro wasnÆt listening. He was too busy dying at that moment. But if he had listened, heÆd have probably ended up suffering all throughout his afterlife, even if he did end up in heaven.
Who wouldnÆt, knowing they had suffered the worst of fates just because somebody had avoided giving sex ed?
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ôAhà.that explains a lot.ö The Minister of Defense nodded in understanding. ôSo, itÆs simple then. All we got to do is get the two together and make sure the King gets his grandchild in nine months at the latest, right? How hard can it be?ö
It dawned on everyone now why this man was the Minister of Defense. He was decisive, to-the-point, and, for the lack of a better word, mercilessly cruel.
He was perfect for the job and the situation and everybody couldnÆt agree more.
ôThat means somebody will have to give the girl some sex ed after all.ö The minister of education suddenly pointed out.
ôWell, how hard can it be?ö The Minister of Domestic Affairs said, shrugging.
Mitsune, Motoko, Shinobu, and Haruka all gulped imperceptibly.
ôA harem sir?ö They all went silent upon hearing the Prime Minister utter these words in the transmission room. They all rushed to the edge of the one-way mirrors and pressed their ears into the cold glass.
ôWhy, yes, my good man.ö The King said, eyeing the Prime Minister as if he was somewhat potty to even question it. ôEvery good man, especially one who will soon be prince of MolMol, must have a decent sized harem. It stands to reasonà.he DOES have a harem, doesnÆt he? I mean, I heard my daughter mention somebody named NaruNaru sharing his blanket with her as well as my daughter.ö
Whatever æreasonÆ the King was talking about, it absolutely eluded the Prime Minister, but he wasnÆt about to confess to that, not with the prospect of his entire country ending up a giant piece of buttered carbon. ôWhy, err, yes, off course, your highness. IÆm sure the young manÆs done his best in that department. He is, after all, the embodiment of everything the Japanese culture is proud of. A great strapping example of what every Japanese man should aspire to be, I always said.ö He nodded, rather stiffly, mostly due to the pent up tension.
ôH-h-harem?ö Mitsune gaped, pealing her flaming earlobe off the now rather damp glass. She again looked down at her fellow, for the lack of a better word, æculpritÆ, and saw that Motoko too had realized what this meant.
They were first in lineà.they must be. And they canÆt refuse as theyÆve almost destroyed the nationà.or did they just save it? Waità.it was getting rather confusingà.
ôHurry, get me a list of every eligible young woman in the nation!ö The Minister of Domestic Affairs shouted to a clerk. ôAnd you, get someone to analyze the KingÆs psyche profile and his current harem and find out what sort of women heÆd find suitable to be royal harem members!ö He shouted to another clerk. ôAnd you, find out what qualifies as ædecent-sizedÆö He shouted at the Minister of Foreign Affairs.
ôWho? What? Me?ö The Minister of Foreign Affairs asked, slightly puzzled.
ôYes, youÆre supposedly the expert on everything foreign, and harems are foreign enough a concept for us as it is without it becoming a domestic affair.ö The Minister of Domestic affairs said in a decisive tone. ôAnd find this woman named NaruNaru. Get to it! The fate of Japan rests on your shoulders!ö
ôWellà.the more the merrier, right?ö The Minister of Foreign Affairs muttered, half to himself. ôI mean, decent-sizedà.well, just to be sure, a dozenàmaybe 20-ishàö His voice trailed off.
Nobody had noticed Shinobu who was now lying with her back against one wall, her eyes blank out of utter shock. Everything was happening too fast. One moment Japan was about to go to war. The next the King called it off because Suu was pregnant with his grandchild. Then she found out that this was not so because it was a misunderstanding. And now Keitaro-sempai had to have a harem? A faint ôAuuuuàö Escaped her lips.
ôDoes this mean a polygamy bill will be passed?ö The Minister of Education asked. ôThis will seriously have an impact on religious studies and sex ed.ö He murmured, mostly to himself.
ôWell, who knows? But from the looks of it weÆll have to alter the legal age of consent while weÆre at it too.ö The Minister of Culture and Art sighed. ôThis will definitely affect our pop culture ethicsà.what, with lolicon art on the rise and everythingàö
ôGood, good.ö The King nodded with generous approval. ôItÆs been great speaking to you, Prime Minister. Thanks a lot for taking care of my daughter. Your countryÆs one fine one. I always had faith in you Japanese, I always told my wives. You can always trust people perverted enough to set up used-panty dispensers in public bathrooms. After all, love is peace and peace is love, right?ö He said with what might seem like a reassuring wink. ôWell then, IÆll be dropping by in a month or two to check up on my daughter and the prince-to-beàoh, and to see how good a harem he has. They say you can judge the qualities in a man by his harem, you know?ö
ôErrr, yes, off course, Your Highness.ö The Prime Minister felt he was obliged to agree with anything at this point. Deal with the details later, he thought.
ôWell, thatÆs all, Prime Minister. Thank you so very much for your time. And sorry again for the misunderstanding. Oh, and youÆve got yourself a seat at the wedding.ö The King winked again. ôJa neö
ôJ-Ja neà.ö The Prime Minister said weakly as the screen before him winked out into blackness. It happened in steps. First he sagged, before his knees buckled in, holding up his body at a rather strange angle like a drunken ballerina, before shudderingly giving away and letting him drop to the carpeted floor. A good, long sleep, that was what he needed now, so he thought as he closed his eyes comfortably. He could deal with all the pressing matters later. One of them was to add more used-panty dispensers everywhereàfor some reason that felt like a good thing.
Waitàthe boyà.
He sat up and looked up at all the people who had rushed in to his aid as if they were all aliens before finally finding his voice in his stomach where it had sunk down in relief. ôWell, donÆt just stand there, secure the boy! HeÆs the future of Japan!ö
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When they finally got to the room, said æfuture of JapanÆ didnÆt seem to have much of a future. In fact, he was dangerously teetering on the brink of becoming a permanent past, though unfortunately he was too insignificant to qualify for general Japanese modern history.
There was a big opening in the field of topographical geography for him though, at the momentà
The one responsible for said state of affairs had the tied-up boy by the scruff of his neck, and had one bloody fist reared back, ready to deliver the finishing fatal blow. Something about the girl suggested that said finishing fatal blow would have all the stopping power of an angry rhino.
The JDF was a very efficient body of men, one all foes would think twice before taking on. They were strong, capable, versatile on land, sea, and airà.
à.strangely enough, cramped offices didnÆt fit into that description. Neither did bloodthirsty broad with a choking murderous aura. Obviously, this wasnÆt your typical military foe. She didnÆt seem the type to think twice either.
Two soldiers behind the front-most soldier nudged the front-most one in the small of the back with the butt of their rifles and edged him further towards certain death.
ôErrr, madamà.if you could please put the poor boy down?ö The unfortunate soldier ventured bravely. ôItÆs a matter of national security.ö He added, in a last ditch effort at what might loosely qualify as an argument.
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The endàfor nowà
ThatÆs all I have right now. DonÆt expect much in terms of updates though. IÆm not too serious with this particular idea and with all the other projects clamoring for attention itÆll probably get buried at the bottom of my WiP file. It had started out as a whim that somehow snowballed anyway.
àOr I might adapt it to suit SuuÆs part in æSo, What Now, Genius?!Æ
WeÆll seeà
By the way, this story was inspired by Lord RaaÆs æAnd ThatÆs Terrible.Æ, a fine example of high-class literature that belongs in the upper pantheons of fanfic writing.
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A day or two agoà.
The island of MolMol was a peaceful island, inhabited by peaceful, if rather eccentric, people, who were blessed with peaceful, yet startlingly brilliant, minds, who peacefully endeavoured to discover new technologically advanced ways to wage warà.or so it would seem to outsiders. After all, it was all done in the interest of peace. Not that they were designed to wage war in the first place anyway. Slicing bread had never been easier after the domestic application of positron beam rifles. It toasts the bread while it was at it too. Death and destruction was, unfortunately, just a by-product.
They believed that peace was everything. Peace was love and love was peace. Therefore, Love too was everything. It stood to reason.
The flowers in the royal gardens swayed gently under the passing breeze, perfuming the late spring air with their thick rich scent. The trees rustled gently. The birdbath spluttered and gurgled. The birds in the birdbath sang a beautiful, if rather damp, chirpy song. Bumblebees buzzed busily amongst the blossoms. Otherwise, it was all peaceful and quietà
ôWHAAAAAAAAAAT?!ö
An angered roar rang through the hazy air.
Birds abruptly took flight. The birds in the birdbath skittered and slipped first before doing the same, albeit dripping embarrassingly in the process. The wind howled. Volcanoes erupted. The very earth shook and cracked.
à.Pathetic fallacy goes far here in MolMolà
ôDEATH! DESTRUCTION! WAR!ö
It was obviously time to leave MolMolà.
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Present Dayà
The island nation of Japan, on the other hand, was far from being peaceful. In fact, the top brass had rather abruptly declared a state of emergency. The beaches had been sandbagged and fortified. The Air Force were watching every single cloud as if theyÆd suddenly spawn death itself. The Navy had been restlessly patrolling the coast, watching every little wave for tell tale v-like ripples.
As usual though, the public were kept safely in the darkàwell, at least until the darkness turns bright with all the artillery fireà.
It had all seemed like a joke. Albeit a rather lame and humourless one, yet still a joke. The Japanese diplomat had laughed uneasily, mostly out of politeness, before being deported on the spot and sent back with a rather dark message, one rather lacking in terms of manners and, perhaps, words, yet more than made up for it in the amount of exclamation marks.
Said letter scared the hell out of the Minister of Foreign Affairs whose poor heart almost gave up at that very instant. Too bad it didnÆt. Otherwise, heÆd have been sparred the embarrassment that followed.
The prime minister had immediately picked up the phone and dialed up all the right people, who, after a brief and confused conversation, didnÆt seem so right after all. In the end he was left with a choice. Either call Her, or the priest. At the moment lying down to die didnÆt seem like the best of options and he had the eerie feeling that theyÆd dig him up and resurrect him just to have the pleasure of killing him personally with their own preferred method, thus the priest was out of the question.
Her it was then.
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Urashima Haruka hadnÆt had a good day. She had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, that is, the side that had all of SarahÆs toys on (most of which she shared with Suu and considering that they too had ædeath and destructionÆ labeled under æby-productsÆ, it wasnÆt a nice way to wake up), she had ran out of toothpaste and toilet paper (a bit too late with the latter, after which she found that the toilet wouldnÆt flush), her toaster had spat out a pair of badly burnt pieces of carbonized carbohydrates and even those later fell on the floor buttered side down, the milk had gone sour, which led to the discovery that somebody had stolen her refrigeratorÆs compressor, and, to top it all off, the phone rang.
Just as she was looking through the phone book in search of a repairman and had stopped to look at an add offering a positron beam bread slicer/toaster tooà.
It was a rather funny conversation too. How funny? It had begun with æHELP!ö
Something exploded in the distanceà
It was one of those daysà
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Meanwhile,
ôHmmm, thatÆs nice to know. Tsuruko-sanÆs finally expecting.ö Mitsune smiled as Motoko placed the letter from her sister down on the coffee table with a reverential flourish. ôShe must be really happy.ö
ôWhatÆs æexpectingÆ? Is it edible?ö A voice asked.
It didnÆt take a rocket genius to guess who asked the questionà.though from the looks of it, it takes a rocket genius to ask it.
ôN-no, not really, Suu-chan.ö Mitsune said, rather nervously. Motoko, meanwhile, coughed dryly and remained quiet. Some topics were better left untouched. Well, yes, they were merely brushing the surface, but knowing Suu, sheÆd start excavating said surface sooner or later.
How on earth does one give sex ed to a banana crazed foreigner anyway?
Not in their lifetimes, they decided. Thus they steered clear of the surface completely.
ôWellà.is it a really happy feeling then?ö Suu persisted. Curiosity often kills cats but SuuÆs curiosity killed off the entire pet shop and burned it down before proceeding to slaughter an entire savannahÆs worth of lions.
There was, excuse the description, a pregnant pause.
ôàwh-what makes you think that, Suu?ö Mitsune finally ventured.
ôBecause you said MotokoÆs sister was æexpectingÆ and that sheÆs happy.ö Suu said innocently.
This came from a mind whose logic bent metal and harnessed lightning into fearsome spawns of insanityà
The two young women gave the young MolMolian a searching gaze.
Motoko finally cleared her throat. ôErràyes, Suu-chanà.you got it dead right.ö
ôYay! I got it right!ö Suu shouted in triumph before bounding away. ôExpecting, expecting, yay!ö
The two ladies shivered slightly in the rather awkward silence that followed. It was late spring and the warmth far from warranted any shiveringà.but it felt as if an ill wind had just blown by.
ôà.did we just do something wrong?ö Mitsune asked, feeling, as she rarely did, somewhat guilty.
ôN-no, off course not.ö Motoko chuckled uneasily. ôWhat harm could it do?ö
àA lot of harm, as they later found outà..
Anyway, the explosion happened next, the same one Haruka heard from the teashop as she picked up the phone.
Yes, it was one of those daysà.
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ôAnd you called me up for THIS?ö Haruka asked, her eyebrow twitching dangerously. Even the hardiest of men would normally start putting as much distance between them and her at the hint.
Indeed, this was the case with the Prime Minister. Unfortunately, the maximum distance he could put between himself and her was the width of his desk, over which Haruka was now leaning threateningly, his retreat cut off by the formerly comfortable leather office chair. He made a mental note to replace said desk with a wider desk if he is somehow spared the necessity of the priestÆs services.
ôHelp me Oba-san!ö A voice, slightly muffled by all the digital recording systems and circuitry between the source and them, cried out. The form of the voiceÆs owner, cruelly tied up, showed up on a large plasma TV hanging on one side of the Prime MinisterÆs office.
ôà.is all that necessary?ö Haruka asked, giving the rather pathetic form in the plasma screen a brief glance before again subjecting the Prime Minister to a diamond edged stare. Truth be told, she had an awful urge to tighten all those chords currently tying up her nephew, but right now she had to play her cards right. ôAfter all, my nephewÆs too helpless to even escape a simple locked room.ö
ôàyou donÆt have to be that blunt, Haruka-sanà.ö Keitaro muttered, tears streaming down his face.
ôWellàyou seeà.the problem isà.ö The Prime Minister steepled his fingers in an effort to regain some composure. HeÆs seen lots of great charismatic leaders take up this pose before imparting critical information or commands upon subordinates. ItÆs supposed to give off a strong, confident, charismatic air.
àonly, all said effects seemed rather lost on Harukaà
ôà.the king of MolMol has just declared war on usàö He finished, his voice shaking slightly. Although heÆd be the last to say it, HarukaÆs mere presence had a strongly intimidating aura associated with it, and currently it was toying with him mercilessly.
ôWhat kind of madman would declare a war on a country where his daughterÆs residing at?!ö The Secretary General cried out in a fit of nerves.
ôHeÆs rich, isnÆt he?ö Haruka asked, simply.
The Prime Minister and Secetary General both blinked. ôerrrà.yes, he is a monarch of one of the worldÆs technological superpowers after allà.ö The Prime Minister finally answered, not seeing where this was going at all.
ôWell, then heÆs not mad. If heÆs rich then heÆs just eccentric.ö Haruka shrugged, lighting up a cigarette. ôWhereÆs the ashtray?ö
The Prime Minister, a non-smoker himself, almost imperceptibly crinkled his nose but asked one of the clerks to fetch an ashtray all the same.
ôBesides, he knows that whoever tries to touch his daughter will cease being described in terms of biology and forevermore be remembered in terms of topographical geography.ö She said, taking a drag on the cancer stick. ôà.and perhaps general Japanese modern history, in the case of some people here.ö She added after a thought, accompanying it with a glare that said ædonÆt you dare hold the girl for ransomÆ.
The Prime Minister gulped. The thought had occurred to him, but now he realized that foreign affairs really wasnÆt his field. A small part of his mind fervently prayed that topographical geography and Japanese modern history would never be a part of it either. There was a deadly feel to those subjects.
ôAhàHaruka-chanàö He started.
ôShut up. WeÆre not in primary school anymore.ö Haruka snapped as the clerk hurried in with the ashtray. After tapping off some ash on the tray she finally asked, ôAll rightà.what did WE do to piss off the King of MolMol?ö
ôItÆs aà.errràa rather strange reasonà.ö He sighed. ôKeitaro-san?ö He looked up at the tied up form that was now the plasma screenÆs main feature.
ôY-Yes?ö Keitaro gulped. Something told him he wasnÆt going to like thisà
ôWellàI guess you have the right to listen too. This has something to do with you after allàö the Prime Minister conceded. ôàEverything to do with you, actuallyàö He finally decided.
ôàyesà?ö Haruka said, her voice hinting that if the question isnÆt answered soon then the King of MolMol wouldnÆt be the only one pissed off around here.
ôWellàyou seeà.the kingà.ö
To put it in a nutshell, the king WASNÆT happyà.
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ôI say we hand over the boyÆs head on a silver platter!ö The Minister of Defense shouted, slamming his fists down on the table. A few of the other ministers seated around said table winced at the idea but found, mostly to their own horror, agreeing with the Minister of DefenseÆs suggestion. After all, the prospect of ending up the by-product of advanced-technology-assisted bread slicing wasnÆt a very bright one.
After all, better some obscure boy than meàI mean, the entire country, right?
ôItÆs a very delicate matter.ö The Prime Minister said. ôWe donÆt even know what the real problem is.ö
ôItÆs obvious, isnÆt it?ö The Minister of Domestic Affairs said with a disapproving sniff. ôHe went ballistic the moment he heard his daughter was staying at an all-girls dorm run by a man.ö
The entire cabinet assembled went silent, each making solemn vows to pass some sort of law banning male managers from running all-girls dorms if they ever survived this ordealà.and perhaps harem mangas and animes while they were at it. Why they came to that last conclusion they didnÆt know, but it felt like the thing to do all the same.
ôWell thenà.errrà.thatÆs why in a few more minutes weÆre going to open up a channel of communication with the king whoÆs currentlyàö the Prime Minister paused to look down at his notes before gulping. ôàOn board the MolMol NavyÆs flagship thatÆs currently sitting right outside our borders, along with his entire fleet.ö
ôBut the manÆs daughter is here, isnÆt she?ö The Minister of Education suddenly spoke up.
A glare from the other side of the room made him feel like a really bad pupil who was about to get the scolding of his life. The source of the glare, Urashima Haruka, stood up. ôI personally believe that the matter should be resolved by the daughter. It is a father-daughter issue after all.ö
Everyone looked at one another. If it had come from anyone else, they would have dismissed it as a mad idea, but this suggestion came from Urashima Haruka. They knew the woman, each in their own personal way. Some remembered her as the girl whoÆd defend their younger nerdy selves against bullies. Some remembered her as the leader of the most feared high school gang who had warded off the even bigger bullies.
This must work. It must.
àjust in case it doesnÆt, every one of them already had the priestÆs number on speed dialà.
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ôSuu!ö The big, tanned, regally moustached face on the screen gave the young girl standing before it a hearty smile. ôHavenÆt seen you in a while, dear daughter, how are you?ö He said, in heavily accented Japanese. It seemed as if the King had taken the time to pick up some Japanese in case his daughter somehow decided to stick with it.
Indeed, she did.
ôIÆm all fine, papa!ö Suu said with a grin. She was somewhat bewildered over the fact that a lot of big men in black suits and shades had stormed the Hinata Sou earlier and kidnapped Keitaro. She was even more bewildered over the fact that some of them, after a royal trouncing from her (might be nice to report that a good few of them had a refrigerator compressor/ultra-deconstipator-o-matic-in-the-making explode in their face), finally voiced their plea for her to come with them. But nothing bewildered her more than the fact that they had asked her to spend a few minutes talking with her Papa.
She just did it anyway, just because they had dragged off Keitaro, deciding that worst come to worst sheÆd just self-destruct the entire island of Honshu.
ôDo you really think thisÆll somehow resolve the problem?ö The Prime Minister asked from behind a one way mirror looking into the transmission room where Suu was.
ôJust watch.ö Haruka shrugged. Personally, she knew this was a gamble, knowing how Suu was, but it was all or nothing.
ôSo, SuuàI heard youÆre currently living in a dorm run by aàö He paused to lick his lips. ôà.a male managerà.ö He finished, putting on a pose with his hands on his hips reminiscent of Henry VIII but with an option on Henry IX and Henry V as well.
Suu was perhaps the last ever person to ever identify what some may call a luring sentence or a fishing line. Despite the fact that her mind could grasp quantum mechanics and bioengineering and simultaneously juggle it with nuclear physics, her knowledge of the everyday nuts and bolts of social interactions was just as good as her understanding of the word æexpectingÆ. The KingÆs lure caught with a satisfying snag. ôYes, Papa, his nameÆs Keitaro.ö She smiled. ôHeÆs really nice, and really funny too. You should meet him.ö
ôErr, yes. Actually, Suu, I wanted to speak to you about him.ö The King rumbled on. ôSoà.do youà.get along with him?ö He ventured.
Keitaro, who was watching the entire conversation through the screens set up in his chamber by the guards in suits, started to sweat. The matter of his life and death has often rested in SuuÆs fingers, mostly when they were holding the triggers of some newly developed death ray/deconstipator/something-o-matic of some description, but never have they mattered so much as now. He gulped. If he somehow made it through this, he swore heÆd buy Suu all the bananas she could ever wish for.
ôYes, Papa. KeitaroÆs lotÆs of fun!ö Suu said. The watchers all held their breath. ôHeÆs kind and gentle too, and he plays with me a lot. HeÆs especially fun at night!ö
The watchers gasped. The Prime Minister could already see Japan crumbling into ruin before his very eyes. Keitaro on the other hand could already see himself being offered up on a silver platter with a slice of lemon and perhaps some tartar sauce.
Narusegawa Naru, who had followed the others to the Parliament building and was currently watching alongside Haruka and the Prime Minister from behind the one-way mirror, found herself clenching her fists at SuuÆs remark. ôAt night, eh?ö She murmured.
ôSuu-chanà.ö Shinobu murmured beside Naru, her eyes as large as saucers.
ôAt night?ö The King asked, leaning forwards towards the screen, his expression turning into something that, if circumstances were different, may pass for intrigue. Currently, it passed for searching suspicion with an option on severe constipation coupled with painful bowel movements.
ôYes, at night. I sleep with him a lot. We always have lots and lots of fun together!ö Suu said innocently in butterfly tones. ôOh, with NaruNaru too!ö
Flight of said butterfly tones rained thunder down upon the watchers.
The Prime Minister fell to his knees. ôW-weÆre doomedà.ö He mumbled. The rest of his ministers had their hand phones out and were in the process of speed-dialing a recently programmed number.
ôLots of fun, eh?ö The King nodded.
ôYes, he makes me so happy!ö Suu said happily, getting so caught up in her speech that she was starting to loose the handle of the media of said speech, namely language. She had started to pull out words at random.
ôSo happy thatà.thatàö Suu searched for a word that described it properly before finding one she had just learnt earlier that day. ôàthat IÆm expecting!ö
à..
For a split second the Prime Minister fervently prayed that the KingÆs Japanese language tutors hadnÆt covered that last word.
The KingÆs eyes widened so very slightly.
Apparently, much to the Prime MinisterÆs horror, the tutors were quite thoroughà.
Many pairs of eyes (the ones other than the KingÆs) turned blank. A number of cell-phones clattered onto the floor before simultaneously giving out disconnection tones. HarukaÆs cigarette, still hanging from her lips, burned on, forgotten, to the point where an inchÆs worth of ash fell unheeded to the floor.
Keitaro knew he was dead and had quietly performed a little funeral rite in his mind, entrusting his soul to any deity up there whoÆd accept him. He knew that no one else would bother giving him a funeral. TheyÆd be too busy cursing his dead body. Right now he was just trying to weigh out whoÆd give him a quicker and less painful death, the Kingàor Naruà
NaruÆs nails had dug deep into her palms. She was now shaking with rage. Somehow the fate of Japan didnÆt really occur to her. All her mind registered at the moment was the need to pummel a certain pervert to death before chasing him to hell and giving him even further pummeling.
Mitsune, her mouth hanging wide open, looked around at Motokoàwho seemed to have disappeared. She ventured a glance downwards and found Motoko slumped, kneeling on the floor, her mouth opening and closing incomprehensibly.
ôGodàweÆve just single-handedly brought death down upon all of Japanàö Mitsune thought in horror. Her father had always said she was destined for greatness. Well, this was greatness all right. Not many could destroy entire countries with mere speech.
Motoko had started to laugh quietly, the uneasy hysterical laugh of the utterly defeated.
ôBehead the boy, now!ö The Minister of Defense suddenly found his voice in some forgotten corner of his throat, cowering and shuddering with utter fright. ôNOW!ö
A strange, alien sound reached their ear-drums. At first it was so alien, so foreign, that it inspired utter bone-chilling fear. And then, as their minds finally caught up, they somehow started to identify the sound.
It was laughter.
It was a rich, royal laughter, hearty and light.
The all looked up at the screen.
To their utter amazement, the King had his head thrown back, laughing as if the world was all kittens and puppies and everything else that was cute, cuddly, and potentially a source of allergies.
ôThis is the greatest news IÆve had in a while!ö He boomed.
ôWhat?!ö The Prime Minister gasped, his face a riddle of incredulity. The other ministers had done a good job of mimicking it too.
ôWHAT?!ö Keitaro too gasped. This might not mean the frying pan, but he had a feeling the fire was still down there somewhere, waiting for him.
The door behind him slammed open to reveal an auburn haired girl who was flaming at the edges, giving off a murderous aura so thick that it quickly permeated the room and chocked everyone present including the guards.
ôN-Naru, itÆs all a misunderstanding! Really! Iàö
Nobody at the transmission room noticed that the surveillance monitors watching KeitaroÆs room all went fuzzy for a few moments before turning blue.
ôD-does this meanàweÆre not going to die?ö Mitsune tensed, as if watching the last dice spin about on its edge, not knowing whether it was safe to be relieved or not.
Motoko, on the other hand, had lapsed into quiet hiccups.
ôI was starting to get worried about you, Suu.ö The King said in a hearty voice. ôYouÆve been in Japan for so long and yet I still hadnÆt received any news of you finding a man. And suddenly I hear that you have had a man for a dorm manager for a good two years and yet it seemed like nothing had happened.ö He said, sighing. ôThat really made me blow my top. How could he be caring for my beautiful irresistible daughter and yet make no moves whatsoever?ö He frowned for a bit. ôBut now everythingÆs cleared up. Looks like the man has lived up to the expectation of his species.ö He nodded with satisfaction, his generous moustache waving along to amplify the sentiment.
Everyone present was staring open-mouthed at the King.
ôWell, itÆs good to know that my grandchildren are on the way.ö He said, his face lit up to the point that it almost looked boyish. ôOh, IÆve got to call the Prime Minister and tell him IÆm calling off the war. I hope heÆd accept my apology for the misunderstanding. I mean, now I can see that his government runs one fine country. Look, my dear daughterÆs living proof of that, all happy and expecting.ö He beamed.
The awkward silence that followed was broken by one the clerks speaking up, ôSir, do we still need to behead the boy?ö He asked the Minister of Defense.
ôWhat? The Boy? Are you crazy, man?! The boyÆs our insurance policy, our lifeline. No, his head stays on his shoulders. The fate of Japan rests on it.ö The Minister of defense said.
The room behind the one-way mirrors exploded in cheers and laughter as a wave of pure relief washed over them. The war was called off! Nobody had to fry under the bread toasting positron beams!
MotokoÆs hiccups gave away to quiet sobs of relief.
Mitsune laughed so hard that she felt as if her gut was about to crack under the strain. She didnÆt care. Japan was saved!
ôButàö
Everyone looked around at the source of the voice, giving it a look normally reserved for the vilest of party poopers, daring him to challenge the outcome of ordeal.
ôErràö The source of the voice, the Minister of Education, faltered a bit under the collective stares, but rallied up, like students at a biology pep rally, and said, ôHe thinks his daughterÆs expectingà.ö
Everyone stared.
The Minister of Culture and Art coughed and asked, ôwellàisnÆt she?ö
ôWerenÆt you listening?ö The Prime Minister sighed. ôHaruka-chan has given her complete assurance that Urashima Keitaro has done nothing of the sort.ö
ôWell, she couldÆve laid down her guard one eveningàö The Minister of Agriculture suggested, before he found himself frying under the gazes of all the other ministers. ôOopsàsorry, Haruka-chan, thatÆs not possible, is it? Sorryàö He mumbled.
ôThenà.why did she say she was expecting?ö The Minister of Culture and Art asked, before gasping, ôIt couldnÆt beàö
ôNo, itÆs not what you think.ö Mitsune finally spoke up. She looked down at Motoko who was eyeing her with a look of utter terror. She shook her head and rallied, ôItÆs a rather funny storyà.ö She started with a defiant smile, and when she realized that nobody was prepared to be amused, she decided to tell it as it was.
It wasnÆt pretty.
Good thing Keitaro wasnÆt listening. He was too busy dying at that moment. But if he had listened, heÆd have probably ended up suffering all throughout his afterlife, even if he did end up in heaven.
Who wouldnÆt, knowing they had suffered the worst of fates just because somebody had avoided giving sex ed?
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ôAhà.that explains a lot.ö The Minister of Defense nodded in understanding. ôSo, itÆs simple then. All we got to do is get the two together and make sure the King gets his grandchild in nine months at the latest, right? How hard can it be?ö
It dawned on everyone now why this man was the Minister of Defense. He was decisive, to-the-point, and, for the lack of a better word, mercilessly cruel.
He was perfect for the job and the situation and everybody couldnÆt agree more.
ôThat means somebody will have to give the girl some sex ed after all.ö The minister of education suddenly pointed out.
ôWell, how hard can it be?ö The Minister of Domestic Affairs said, shrugging.
Mitsune, Motoko, Shinobu, and Haruka all gulped imperceptibly.
ôA harem sir?ö They all went silent upon hearing the Prime Minister utter these words in the transmission room. They all rushed to the edge of the one-way mirrors and pressed their ears into the cold glass.
ôWhy, yes, my good man.ö The King said, eyeing the Prime Minister as if he was somewhat potty to even question it. ôEvery good man, especially one who will soon be prince of MolMol, must have a decent sized harem. It stands to reasonà.he DOES have a harem, doesnÆt he? I mean, I heard my daughter mention somebody named NaruNaru sharing his blanket with her as well as my daughter.ö
Whatever æreasonÆ the King was talking about, it absolutely eluded the Prime Minister, but he wasnÆt about to confess to that, not with the prospect of his entire country ending up a giant piece of buttered carbon. ôWhy, err, yes, off course, your highness. IÆm sure the young manÆs done his best in that department. He is, after all, the embodiment of everything the Japanese culture is proud of. A great strapping example of what every Japanese man should aspire to be, I always said.ö He nodded, rather stiffly, mostly due to the pent up tension.
ôH-h-harem?ö Mitsune gaped, pealing her flaming earlobe off the now rather damp glass. She again looked down at her fellow, for the lack of a better word, æculpritÆ, and saw that Motoko too had realized what this meant.
They were first in lineà.they must be. And they canÆt refuse as theyÆve almost destroyed the nationà.or did they just save it? Waità.it was getting rather confusingà.
ôHurry, get me a list of every eligible young woman in the nation!ö The Minister of Domestic Affairs shouted to a clerk. ôAnd you, get someone to analyze the KingÆs psyche profile and his current harem and find out what sort of women heÆd find suitable to be royal harem members!ö He shouted to another clerk. ôAnd you, find out what qualifies as ædecent-sizedÆö He shouted at the Minister of Foreign Affairs.
ôWho? What? Me?ö The Minister of Foreign Affairs asked, slightly puzzled.
ôYes, youÆre supposedly the expert on everything foreign, and harems are foreign enough a concept for us as it is without it becoming a domestic affair.ö The Minister of Domestic affairs said in a decisive tone. ôAnd find this woman named NaruNaru. Get to it! The fate of Japan rests on your shoulders!ö
ôWellà.the more the merrier, right?ö The Minister of Foreign Affairs muttered, half to himself. ôI mean, decent-sizedà.well, just to be sure, a dozenàmaybe 20-ishàö His voice trailed off.
Nobody had noticed Shinobu who was now lying with her back against one wall, her eyes blank out of utter shock. Everything was happening too fast. One moment Japan was about to go to war. The next the King called it off because Suu was pregnant with his grandchild. Then she found out that this was not so because it was a misunderstanding. And now Keitaro-sempai had to have a harem? A faint ôAuuuuàö Escaped her lips.
ôDoes this mean a polygamy bill will be passed?ö The Minister of Education asked. ôThis will seriously have an impact on religious studies and sex ed.ö He murmured, mostly to himself.
ôWell, who knows? But from the looks of it weÆll have to alter the legal age of consent while weÆre at it too.ö The Minister of Culture and Art sighed. ôThis will definitely affect our pop culture ethicsà.what, with lolicon art on the rise and everythingàö
ôGood, good.ö The King nodded with generous approval. ôItÆs been great speaking to you, Prime Minister. Thanks a lot for taking care of my daughter. Your countryÆs one fine one. I always had faith in you Japanese, I always told my wives. You can always trust people perverted enough to set up used-panty dispensers in public bathrooms. After all, love is peace and peace is love, right?ö He said with what might seem like a reassuring wink. ôWell then, IÆll be dropping by in a month or two to check up on my daughter and the prince-to-beàoh, and to see how good a harem he has. They say you can judge the qualities in a man by his harem, you know?ö
ôErrr, yes, off course, Your Highness.ö The Prime Minister felt he was obliged to agree with anything at this point. Deal with the details later, he thought.
ôWell, thatÆs all, Prime Minister. Thank you so very much for your time. And sorry again for the misunderstanding. Oh, and youÆve got yourself a seat at the wedding.ö The King winked again. ôJa neö
ôJ-Ja neà.ö The Prime Minister said weakly as the screen before him winked out into blackness. It happened in steps. First he sagged, before his knees buckled in, holding up his body at a rather strange angle like a drunken ballerina, before shudderingly giving away and letting him drop to the carpeted floor. A good, long sleep, that was what he needed now, so he thought as he closed his eyes comfortably. He could deal with all the pressing matters later. One of them was to add more used-panty dispensers everywhereàfor some reason that felt like a good thing.
Waitàthe boyà.
He sat up and looked up at all the people who had rushed in to his aid as if they were all aliens before finally finding his voice in his stomach where it had sunk down in relief. ôWell, donÆt just stand there, secure the boy! HeÆs the future of Japan!ö
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
When they finally got to the room, said æfuture of JapanÆ didnÆt seem to have much of a future. In fact, he was dangerously teetering on the brink of becoming a permanent past, though unfortunately he was too insignificant to qualify for general Japanese modern history.
There was a big opening in the field of topographical geography for him though, at the momentà
The one responsible for said state of affairs had the tied-up boy by the scruff of his neck, and had one bloody fist reared back, ready to deliver the finishing fatal blow. Something about the girl suggested that said finishing fatal blow would have all the stopping power of an angry rhino.
The JDF was a very efficient body of men, one all foes would think twice before taking on. They were strong, capable, versatile on land, sea, and airà.
à.strangely enough, cramped offices didnÆt fit into that description. Neither did bloodthirsty broad with a choking murderous aura. Obviously, this wasnÆt your typical military foe. She didnÆt seem the type to think twice either.
Two soldiers behind the front-most soldier nudged the front-most one in the small of the back with the butt of their rifles and edged him further towards certain death.
ôErrr, madamà.if you could please put the poor boy down?ö The unfortunate soldier ventured bravely. ôItÆs a matter of national security.ö He added, in a last ditch effort at what might loosely qualify as an argument.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
The endàfor nowà
ThatÆs all I have right now. DonÆt expect much in terms of updates though. IÆm not too serious with this particular idea and with all the other projects clamoring for attention itÆll probably get buried at the bottom of my WiP file. It had started out as a whim that somehow snowballed anyway.
àOr I might adapt it to suit SuuÆs part in æSo, What Now, Genius?!Æ
WeÆll seeà
