Kobayashi Keiichi

Chapter 1: Kobayashi Keiichi

Still half asleep, I yell something unintelligible to let mom know that her fbi-open-up trick finally worked on me, receiving some equally unintelligible rambling in return. But that’s just mom, nothing to worry about. I’ll just get up, slip into my pants and - oh…

A most uncomfortable feeling greets me as I heave my body into a sitting position. Not only do I have something akin to a prepubescent boner but more importantly…

My boxers are wet?!

Could I, Kobayashi Keiichi, actually still be wetting the bed? A 13 year old boy still doing something so… embarrassing? But wait, assuming I actually pissed myself, wouldn’t it be wet all over? It’s only wet… there huh? And… it doesn’t smell like pee either but it smells… eww it’s slimy!

Suddenly, a few afterimages of that dream still floating in the backspace of my mind, I begin to understand the situation. The dream, the doujin I read before bedtime… It all makes sense now. So that makes this my 2nd wet dream, damn. Puberty is scary…

Awkwardly, I lift my body out of the bed. The wet spot makes me feel extremely uncomfortable, thus getting rid of my boxers is a first priority before attending lunch. As it turns out, a shower would also be a good thing to do before having lunch. Goddamn, this stuff is everywhere! Knowing though that mom would actually roast me for delaying lunch any further, I’m reaching for a conveniently placed package of one-time-use handkerchiefs to deal with the worst of this mess before slipping into a fresh pair of boxers and whatever the heck I have been wearing the previous day before making my way down to where mom is probably already having lunch without me.

After taking a quick detour to the bathroom to wash my hands at least, I enter the dining room only to find out that mom has already finished eating, meeting me with a more than sour stare.

“Could you at least show up for meals, Keiichi? It’s your business how to spend your time of course and I am absolutely okay with that but at least be on time for meals if that’s the only time you’re willing to leave your room!”

Mom’s complaining about me again, well that was to be expected… I feel somewhat grumpy now but that doesn’t matter. Judging by the strong scent of rice and curry wafting through the house, she made us curry again which sparks my appetite. I actually really love curry! Salivating a little, I’m taking a seat, mumbling ‘thank you for the meal’ before digging in.

Ah, it’s already a little cold.

From the corner of my eyes, I can see mom sending me a ‘it’s your fault so deal with it’ stare and, as much as I hate to admit it, this is indeed on me. Normal people apparently don’t sleep in until lunchtime. Regardless, though, the curry is very tasty and spicy just as I like it. Guess I’ll thank her later, maybe she’ll let me put any seconds in the microwave?

While eating, mom is cleaning up some stuff in the kitchen. She’s a housewife in her early 40’s with shoulder-length black hair and a few pounds too many on her ribs though if I say this out loud I’d have to watch out for my own ribs. Her being home all the time could be considered a curse or a blessing, depending on the situation. Though, getting lunch and bento every day is certainly a perk I wouldn’t want to lose. I’m not the type to talk much with classmates but I’m often picking up complaints about them having to take care of their lunch boxes themselves or spending their money on cup ramen from the convenience store after school. As for the money, that’s where dad comes in. He’s got a pretty good job in Tokyo but Tokyo is like… really far away from here. That’s why he’s only home on weekends. Given that it’s Monday today, it’ll take a few days before I’ll see him again.

I’ve finished the meal by now. Mom’s a little stingy when I ask her for seconds but my ‘thank mom to coax her into getting warm food’ strategy works as intended and I’m getting more of it. Both of us know that we’re probably going to eat from this until tomorrow at the very least so there’s little reason for her to decline, especially since my body wouldn’t mind a few extra calories. Yeah, I’m that stereotypical skinny gamer kid…

After finishing the food (it’s even better when warmed up properly!) I have little reason to linger around mom any longer. The thought of feeling filthy returns to me so I return to my room to grab some fresh clothes before locking myself in the bathroom for a good old shower. Mondays are bath days in our family but I couldn’t possibly wait until past dinner after that incident.

The feeling of hot water gushing all over my naked skin washes all my dirtiness away though it doesn’t seem to be able to wash away my dirty thoughts. Once again, the doujin, or rather, certain scenes from it are flashing in front of my inner eye as I’m standing idly under the hot stream of water. It’s essentially a really simple-minded piece of drawn porn about a sexy girl seducing a man whose face we never see as it’s all drawn from his POV. Jun, my stupid online friend, kept bugging me to purchase it. I’ll have to exchange a few chats about this later…

All attempts to shake off those pictures in my mind turn out to be futile. I can’t exactly remember when it all started but it must have been around the time I started going to middle school in spring when my otaku lifestyle led me to the dark side. It’s one of those things you know exactly that it’s wrong to buy but, thanks to the guy at the otaku shop near my school who doesn’t give a damn as long as we’re buying, no one stopped me from making an accidental purchase. I liked what I saw. I wanted more. And yet, somewhere deep down, I feel bad each and every time I read one of those things. Mom stays out of things she doesn’t understand and dad’s hardly home so I’d honestly be surprised if they even knew I had such things stored away in my room.

Urgh, I can’t stop picturing Koyori like this, why…

The steamy atmosphere that’s gradually building in the bathroom comes with a heavy amount of melancholy. I’m forcing myself to remember the version of Koyori that I actually met many years ago. Her seemingly infectious laughter is reverberating in my mind, her adorable smile finally winning against the heavily arousing mind construct of her that I met in my dream. With the melancholy comes a heavy feeling of guilt. I can’t recall the last time I thought about her. Day after day I spend time gaming and doing otaku stuff while caring decreasingly about anything IRL. Apparently, even girlfriends can be virtual these days according to my friend Jun…

Yori-chan…

Regardless, though, something continues to linger around, a feeling that’s hard to grasp and yet it’s clearly bothering me. I’ve grown a lot since that time and I’m no longer wearing silly t-shirts with dinosaurs on them. Yori must have grown as well. While my mind clearly took it too far earlier, judging by the girls in my class, Yori might very well be a hottie by now. A cute hottie, my mind immediately adds. However, if I’m using these girls as a bar of judgment a second time, I shouldn’t really expect anything to happen even if we somehow were to meet again. To cut a possibly lengthy rant short: None of them ever had a gaze or even a word to spare for me.

Yori… what did you like about me anyway back then?

Naturally, I haven’t been such a disgrace of a person back then but finding friends had never been a pastime of mine, apparently, Rather than playing with the other kids, I’d usually play by myself or try to entertain mom when she was around. The other kids usually ignored me or learned that I’m not someone worth befriending. Koyori, though, hadn’t even knocked on my door but waltzed straight into my life without asking first. If there had been any other children on the day we met, would she have chosen me as her friend regardless? And if this chance encounter were to ever repeat, would she choose me again? This guy here? Me?

After several minutes under the shower, the heavy vapor and the heat is getting hard to bear but I’m not quite ready to turn off the water just yet. The thought of meeting Koyori again really punctures my self-consciousness in the worst possible place. During my time as an otaku, I’ve come across a lot of stories, learning about certain archetypes of boys that always score with the girls. I mean, looking at it objectively, I'm just a loser with no friends who's neither charming, cool nor good-looking like all those guys in the doujins… My eyes randomly fall on my crotch as the doujin forces itself back into my mind. And as for this little thing here…

Suddenly, I feel awfully hot and dizzy so I quickly turn off the water and hurry out of the shower to dry myself off, making sure that my eyes won’t fall on this puny thing again. Shamefully, I’m pulling my boxers up before I dare look at the mirror. The young teen, returning my glaring judgment brutally, looks awfully blurry - ah right, my glasses… I’m putting a pair of perfectly circular glasses on my nose. The young teen in the mirror averts his eyes at this. Truth be told, I hate the way I look. I’m wearing my black hair very short as it has a tendency to curl and form frills like crazy if I grow it out just a little bit. My face looks almost pudgy in stark contrast to the terribly skinny abomination of a young male body who’s never done any workout to grow a single muscle. To be fair, I could do something about that if I really wanted to. The same could be said about my glasses but the other models they offered at the shop hardly looked any better. At least these seem to fit my face at the price of making me look even more nerdy than I already am… Seriously, what did Koyori see in me? I’m ugly…

Feeling somewhat depressed, I retreat from the mirror, instead reaching for my remaining clothes which brings me to the next dilemma. Wearing the newest and trendiest clothes apparently seems to be a hard rule if you plan on surviving among your peers. For boys like me, this usually means really tight-sitting stuff from whatever set of labels that happen to be popular at the time. I really hate the feeling of that type of clothing on my body though. I’m pulling up a decently baggy and visibly worn denim shorts and tie it in place with a leather belt, then throwing an oversized t-shirt over my upper body that could have easily belonged to my big brother if I happened to have a sibling like that. Most importantly, though, my arms are reaching for a completely unimpressive green and yellow cap to cover my unseemly head, pulling it low until I can hardly see my own eyes in the mirror anymore.

Ah, much better already…

Though, upon closer look, it still bothers me. Cringing, I pull my cap even lower before storming out of the bathroom in a rather foul mood,

Well, at least my computer is waiting for me now…