Chapter 33:

My School's Student Council is Bothering Me (Big Time).

My Dad is an Otaku, My Mom is a Fujoshi, and I Wish I Was Dead

Today's the day that I finally take the next step. After a few days of getting lessons from old man Mitsukoshi, practicing into the night, and avoiding my annoying-ass nee-san, I'm finally ready to show the world how far my musical talent has come.

Sure, I've only been playing less than a week, but I think I'm pretty damn good at this point. No bias.

I brought the guitar to school today and no one said anything about it to me because everyone's smart enough to know not to step to me if they want to keep all their teeth, so it's been sitting on the wall in the back of the room all day, right near my desk. The bell is ringing for us to bow to the teacher and go to our clubs. I normally go hang out with my boys after school, but today I've got a different mission. No, it’s not cleaning duty. Fuck that lame-ass shit.

Mitsukoshi-sensei said that I should get someone other than him to listen to me play, and the obvious choices are girls. Dudes pick up hobbies for one purpose- so girls will think they're cool. It's not like this is the only reason I'm learning to play guitar- I mean, I think it's fun just to play- but the main reason is that if I'm a tough guy who's got a cool hobby all the girls will think I'm a fucking badass and then so many of them will want to confess to me that they'll have to form a line.

The club building is so old and rundown that the wooden floors creak with every step I take. My body is screaming out no, the only club activity hard-ass delinquents do is shaking down kids and taking their lunch money, but I press on. Of course the middle school has to use the shitty old school building for clubs while the high school gets the brand new one. I don't ever go in here enough to find out, but I bet this place is haunted. Forget seven mysteries- this building's probably got twenty-one of them.

That's my destination. Second floor, a room just as nondescript and out of date as the rest of them. The door looks like it'll break if you slide it hard enough. I guess I could try and find out.

"Yo." I slam the door open as hard as I can. Despite how fragile and old it looks, it stays on its hinges, smacking the side of the wall with a loud-ass bang. "I'd like to join the Light Music Club."

I'm expecting an ooh or an aah or a bunch of cute girls looking at me with sparkly eyes but instead I see five girls huddled in the side of the room, clinging to each other, shaking.

Hesitantly, I approach them. There's one that's a bit taller than the rest- she must be the oldest, and that means she's the president. She's got the biggest tits, too.

"Hey, are you the-"

The girls run out of the room, screaming in terror.

What the hell? This wasn't how it was supposed to fucking go! I was supposed to show up, show the girls my shredding skills, and then I get popular because I'm good at guitar and they all think I'm cool and then all the chicks in the club become my girlfriends, even the ugly one! I wanted to see the look on Kouga's dumbass face when I show up with five girlfriends when he's only got Nee-san.

Oh well. They'll come back once they realize I'm serious about wanting to join. In the meantime, I'll take a look around. Man, they've got a lot of cool stuff for a middle school club. There's a whole mother-of-pearl drum kit in the back. I wonder which of them was the drummer? Apparently, they're the easiest ones. My big bros told me about "easy" girls but they didn't clarify what it meant so I guess that means they become your girlfriend really easily. All band girls are "easy" according to Acchan, but if they're so "easy", why is he single?

That's a cool guitar. Is that a real baby blue '01 Startocaster? Mitsukoshi has a pink one, which was also a limited edition release, and he's selling it for a few hundred thousand, but the light blue one was even more rare. They were only released in America so they're usually worth millions. How rich is this school that a middle school club can buy one- or is it one of the girls that's the rich one? I know it's a private school and we've got some really wealthy people around, but I don't think any middle schooler in the world that isn't a Saudi prince could afford to drop 1 million on a guitar.

This bass is pretty cool too...oh, it's an Ivanez. That's more in the student budget. It looks like a Gapson from a distance, though, and it's not like anyone watching the girls in the light music club perform will know the difference.

While I'm here, and I'm the only one in the room...I guess I can try the blue guitar out, just for fun. It might be my only chance to ever touch one. I've gotta make it count.

These are the opening six chords from a song I like by Kina-Bone. Eventually, I'll learn the whole song, but you can tell what I'm trying to play from the riff. G, A, B, G, C7...why does the guitar sound so bad? I thought it would sound better since it's so rare...oh wait, I forgot to plug it in. Dumbass Ryou. Where's the amp? There it is. Alright, I've not actually tried to play an electric guitar before, but I have five days' worth of lessons and that's all I need to fuckin' SHRED.



Two steps to the right and one step back. Get away from the amp. Let's try again.

G. That sounds better, but it's a little weak and warbly. Keep going. Keep strumming. Press those fingers down. There's the chord! Now A-

The door slams open and as my concentration breaks, my fingers slip off the fretboard and my riff ends with an awful screech that sounds like a cat in heat.

"What is going on in here?" A nasal whine comes from behind me as I turn around.

Fuck. It's the glasses moron.

I have no idea how Nagahama ever managed to gain a position of power like vice president, except maybe for divine intervention. The dude's a grown-up hall monitor and no one takes him seriously.

The gangly idiot strides into the room, followed by one, two, three, four, fuck, that's a lot of them. I think every single member of the Fun Police is here. They sent the whole riot squad after me? Aw, shit, there comes the midget, too. Every time I see her with that smug-ass attitude I want to punch something. Not her, because real gangsters don't hit women (except if they hit first, like Kouga's sister), but something.

"Do you know how many rules you've broken today, Shiritori?" the glasses nerd screeches. "Bringing a prohibited item on campus, skipping two classes, being on the roof without permission, AND intimidating a registered club and using their room when you are not a part of it? Do you know how much trouble you're in?!"

"Shut the fuck up, you bald twig."

"What-" Nagahama looks like someone pissed in his miso soup.

"You sent all these guys-" I point at the interchangeable, faceless armbanded seniors- "just to deal with little ol' me? Don't you have some second-years making out behind the building to go fuck with?"

"I don't think you understand how much of a problem you are, Shiritori," the shrimp says in that disdainful voice with a sneer. "You've been here for two and a half months and have already accumulated one hundred and twenty disciplinary actions. That's a record. I've already recommended expulsion and a permanent blacklist from all Tokyo-area high schools, all Group of Six universities, and all civil service employment in the future, but the teachers want to be lenient. You should be kissing their feet. If I had the choice, you'd be begging for food on the street right now."

"Fine." Shrugging, I exchange the Startocaster for the guitar I got from Mitsukoshi, still in its bag. "If you wanna be dicks about it, I'll go practice somewhere else."

I know the Eighth Dwarf (Bitchy) and her minions aren't gonna do anything because they can't. I've figured out that much from watching them. They bother people but they can't actually discipline anyone.

The president gets to the door before I can leave, blocking it with her tiny arms outstretched and a smug grin. "Where do you think you're going?”

"Get out of the way. I don’t have time to play around with you.”

"It’s not playtime, Shiritori. It’s time for you to face discipline, and you’re not going anywhere until you do."

"You think I'm fuckin' scared of you?!" I have to hunch over like an old man just to get in her face. I must look like a clown.

Napoleon Bitchaparte doesn't flinch. She talks a good game, I'll give her that.

"I'm not scared of you either." Her disdainful expression doesn’t change.

"You have five fuckin' seconds to get out of the way before I punt you like a soccer ball." I can do it, too. She's so tiny that I could throw her down the hall and set a new Olympic record.


I whip my head around, giving him the nastiest, thuggish glare I can manage. "You better shut the fuck up before I shove this so far up your ass you turn into yakitori." As soon as I hold the guitar out, Nagahama goes silent again, with a look of the most abject horror and disgust on his dumbass, ugly face.

"Shiritori-kuuuuuun-" Senjuuin draws it out with a diabolical grin- "the only one that will get a finger laid on them is you. Per the Student Handbook Rule 67.9, we are authorized to take appropriate action against a credible threat of violence toward a Council member." She snaps her fingers. "Restrain him."

All the junior officers have surrounded me in a circle like a pack of dogs. Who the fuck does she think she is, a gang leader or something? They're not actually gonna try to tackle me or beat me up or something, are they? There's no way.

I've tried to avoid fighting at school whenever possible. This is my home base. I don't throw hands in my own territory. Yeah, I skip class, but that's different.

But in this case, I have no choice. If they want some smoke so looks like I'm cracking some heads today. Sorry, Light Music Club girls, I'll clean up the bloodstains after I'm done.

"President! What are you doing?" A frazzled woman in a suit appears in the door, looking like she's just run the whole way here. She makes eye contact with me. "I'll take care of Shiritori-kun. All of you, leave."

The president shoots her a glare, but files out, and the rest of the Student Council follow her like obedient little robots. I don't know this teacher, but she's just saved me.

As soon as the shrimp and her lackeys leave, the teacher shoots me a steely glare. "Shiritori-kun, come with me to the teachers' room, right now."

I guess I'm not safe. Man, this sucks...all I wanted to do was play guitar.

Pope Evaristus
Steward McOy