Chapter 3:

Women Should Never Go To Vegas

The Dreamer's Club at Yūkan Academy

There you have it. Caught up, finally, once again, to the present moment.

I think it might be time for me to fill you in on the appearances and names of the vixens in front of me. At the current moment in time, I don’t know what they’re called but just trust me when I say in the future I will find out.

In ascending order of attractiveness we have:

#4: Standing at 5’4 with short blonde hair and striking blue eyes is Mahou Hachitama. With her big fuck off headphones and ever vacant expression, she’s the kind of girl that looks like she just stepped out of a Playstation 2 era JRPG that some might call a ‘verifiable classic’.

#3: Weighing in at 44kg is the disappointingly plain Shizuko Abe. I’m reliably informed that someone in her ancestry was important but I honestly don’t care who it was. To elaborate on the disappointingly plain bit: brown hair, brown eyes, mediocre tits and a flat ass. Her only redeeming feature is her face or it would be if she wasn’t constantly scowling. She is the one sitting at the desk right now.

#2: Showing off way too much skin, it’s Motoko Sawashiro. She has her long black hair pulled up into a rather aggressive-looking ponytail. Her shirt is pulled up a bit and tied behind her back to show off her mightily impressive abs. Furthermore, she might be wearing coloured contacts because her eyes are blood red, she’s certainly going for a look. If I didn’t know any better I’d say she’s the kind of girl who hates her father.

#1: Nearly making my jaw drop to the floor, Nagisa Kaname steals the show. Unlike the others who are wearing rather striking red and black uniforms, she’s sporting a pink and white one. Top that off with the silky smooth pink hair and the cutest face I’ve ever seen outside of a mirror, and we’re talking the whole package.

Anyway, as you’re already aware, they’re laughing in that kind of way. I read a Japanese language textbook on the way so it was obvious to me that they were laughing at me in katakana and not hiragana, which was a critical difference.

When the laughter eventually starts to subside, Motoko struts over to me assertively and slaps me on the back.

“He’s funny,” Motoko says to Shizuko, “I think we should keep him.”

“We can’t just let anyone into this club. We have enough crazies as is”

I feel something wrapping around my waist. It’s Kaname. She’s a fair bit shorter than me so I hadn’t noticed her sneaking up from behind.

“I like him. He’s nice to hug. Maybe he’d play badminton with me.”

“Case in point…” Shizuko replies

“Hey, I’m not crazy!”

“You have never once before expressed an interest in badminton.”

“That’s because none of you look like the badminton playing type.”

“I was actually a badminton champion in middle school you know,” Motoko interjects.

“Omigod really????”

Kaname peels herself off me and starts swinging out of Motoko’s arms.

“No. Of course not.”

Motoko tries to shake Kaname off but she’s got an iron grip. All she ends up doing is swinging Kaname around in circles.

“Woahhhhhh!!!! Weeeeeeee!!!!”

She seems to be enjoying it. But I am not.

“I’m being serious.”

“Get off me you little creep!”

“Woahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” Ahaahahahah.”

No one heard me over Kaname’s cries. No one, except for Shizuko. She’s staring me down in silence, waiting to see if I’m predator or prey. I hate cocky bitches.

“Listen up!” I slam my hand down on her stupid mahogany desk and imbue my voice with ‘the business’ “I said I’m fucking serious!”

Suddenly the room drops dead silent. The brief euphoria I get from thinking I’ve gained control of the situation is quickly replaced by an immense sense of dread. I turn around to face him.

#N/A: Dareku Yasai. Wears glasses. Is a guy.

“It is currently 4:32pm.” Dareku says in a cold voice. “Why has no one arrived at the room?”

Before I can react with a quip, Motoko’s hand is on the back of my head and pushing me into a kneeling position. To my left and right, I can see that Motoko and Kaname are likewise kneeling and from behind, I hear Shizuko’s voice.

“My sincerest apologies for this grave error, Dareku-sama. It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.” Dareku considers something for a moment before continuing. “Motoko.”

“Yes, master?!”

Motoko’s forehead snaps off the floor at the mention of her name, though she’s still keeping mine firmly planted. I’ve only known her for a matter of minutes and this interaction seems distinctly out of character.

“Follow me to the room.”

Without another word, Dareku makes his departure and Motoko runs after him. Kaname runs off to hide behind a large Bonzai tree in the corner. Shizuko pretends like nothing happened and opens a book to the first page and starts reading while Hachitama just stares out the window. After standing up and dusting myself off, I ask Shizuko the obvious question.

“What was that all about?”

“It’s club business.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Shizuko returns me nothing but a cold stare so I turn my attention to Hachitama.

“Come on, you can’t seriously tell me that was just ‘club business’.”

“Yes.” Hachitama responds in an eerie monotone.

“Are you being for real right now?”

“Yes - definitely.”

“Right well fuck you too.”

Back to Shizuko, at least she has emotions, even if they’re all negative.

“If it’s club business, then what do I have to do to join your club?”

“You could start by dropping the bullshit and telling me why you want to join.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I am being deadass?”

“I’ve had enough of you, get out.”

I’ve had it up to here with this bitch. Women like her really bring out the Dahmer in me. I’m going to cut her down to size.

“Do you like wagers, Club President-chan?”

“It’s ‘san’, you stupid foreigner.”

“Oh, I know what It’s meant to be. I’ll respect you when you learn not to underestimate me.”

Shizuko sighs and puts down her book. I try to see what it is she’s reading, but she’s but a blank sleeve around it to obscure the cover.

“If I indulge this ‘wager’ of yours, will you piss off to some other club?”

“Sure. If I lose. But if I win, you let me join your club.”

“Hmmm, sounds mildly interesting. I’ll agree, but I choose the terms of the bet.”

This stupid whore, I told her to stop underestimating me and she didn’t listen! Melo Moonwalker has never lost a bet in his life. I’m not banned from entering the state of Nevada for nothing.

“Sure, anything is fine by me.”

Shizuko stands up from her desk and stares out the stained glass window behind her at the barely visible ocean beyond it. It makes things look very dramatic, which is probably what she wants.

The Dreamer’s Club was founded for one purpose, to help people achieve their dreams. But dreams are not such achievable things. If they were, they’d be called goals or ambitions, not dreams. To join the dreamer’s club you must not only possess a dream of your own but be someone capable of fulfilling others.”

Shizuko turns around and throws her hair over her shoulder. Oh my god, I just realized. She thinks she’s cool. Someone needs to tell her she’s not.

“Prove yourself to be the latter and we’ll revisit the issue of you being the former.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean that’s it?”

“Just sounds a bit easy is all.”

Shizuko tries to kick her desk in anger but ends up hitting it much harder than she meant to.

“Fine! If you think you’re all that, you can have the problem case.”

Shizuko points at Hachitama, who has been following this conversation with what I’m assuming is interest for quite a while now. It doesn’t show on her face.

“If you can fulfil Hachitama’s dream, I’ll let you join the club.”

“OK, what’s her dream?”

“Figuring that out is part of the bet.”

“Alright sounds good to me. How long do I have?”

“You can have as long as you want, you won’t succeed. We’ve been trying since middle school to no avail.”

Interesting, these girls have some history. Good. I can use that.

“So you haven’t been able to fulfil this girl’s wildest dreams in, what, a full half-decade?”

“That’s right.”

“Give me one week.”

With that declaration, I take my leave from the clubroom. Shizuko isn’t the only one with a flair for the dramatic. Behind me, I hear the sound of a paperback just falling short of its intended target.

Does it seem surprising to you that I said I could do it in a week? Perhaps you're right. There’s no way I need a full week.

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