Truck Kun

It was Friday evening, or perhaps Thursday or Saturday. Days kind of started to blend together when you worked six day weeks, and often even put in extra time on Sunday like I did. It didn’t really bother me though, as I had no one to get home to, other than a mostly dead peace lily plant. My parents and I had stopped talking right around college, when I decided to study business management instead of going for medical degree. Friends came and went, but mostly went, as I had very few interests outside of work, and was never one to go out for drinks.

So, on thus Friday, or perhaps Thursday or Saturday evening, I had just left my office and was heading home, with two scheduled stops: the manga store, and the ramen stand next to the train station.

I needed to visit the former because I had once again destroyed a copy of ‘Summer Flowers’; my favourite light novel. The word ‘favourite’ didn’t quite encompass the full scope of my obsession with that book. In fact, the last copy I owned got destroyed two nights ago when, fuelled by hatred towards the evil two-faced protagonist Rose Pinkstar, and a little too much sake, I threw the book out the window, and the neighbour’s dog ate it before I had had the time to retrieve it.

My obsession with this novel started around the same time I graduated from university. At first I, and all my friends, thought that I’d eventually get bored of it, just like I had with all my obsessions up until then. But, as my friends started drifting apart, each busy with their professional and personal lives, I found myself fining seeking out the company of ‘Summer Flowers’ more and more often (as much as one could seek out the company of a book).

The fact that I had the biggest crush on one of the side characters didn’t help.

Her name was Jeneviere Avignon, but her only friend always called her June. She was beautiful, smart, witty, and a talented fighter. All my money that did not go towards buying replacement copies of ‘Summer Flowers’ (a regular expense on my annual tax forms), went towards commissioning art of my lady, and making it into posters. I was even currently considering saving up to buy a body pillow of her. There was no official merch for the book, as it was not that well-known, so I knew I’d have to find a third party retailer, and an artist who specialised in that sort of thing… The main thing stopping me from buying a body pillow, or one of those very expensive porcelain dolls was the fact that one day I might invite an actual, three-dimensional, girl over to my place, and she’d no doubt run away after seeing my display.

“I’ll have my usual.” I said, as I approached the ramen stand.

“Coming right away miss Akiho.” The young (when did I start calling people just over twenty young?) man behind the counter replied.

I waited a few minutes for him to prepare my noodles.

With a plastic bowl in one hand, and a pineapple soda under my arm, I took a seat at one of the foldable tables by the stand.

While I waited for my food to cool, I had a look around. I knew the area well enough, so, although it might have seemed a bit shady to an outsider, with tall buildings hiding narrow alleyways between them, I felt safe here. This ramen stand opened onto what I liked to call a two-storey highway. A wide-laned street ran right beside me, while a six-lane motorway prevented me from seeing the sky. There was a train station nearby as well, but the constant sound of speeding cars prevented me hearing the soothing sound of metal wheels over rails.

Maybe my love for trains was one of the reasons I had picked up ‘Summer flowers’ in the first place, as the story took place in a vaguely dieselpunk setting (although even the word ‘vague’ is was bit too generous, as only two trains appeared in the story, neither of which playing any major role in the plot, while everything else was more Victorian/typical fantasy).

So, the train (and the four hot people beside it) on the cover of the book might have ben the reason why I picked it up, but Lady June was the reason I kept reading. I often told myself that if the author had not wanted me to simp over her, they would not have included a drawing of her in the book, but in reality I was pretty sure I would have fallen in love with her regardless.

She was much like me. But not the me I presented in public; she was like the person whom I flet like inside.

June’s backstory had remained vague to maintain the ‘General Audience’ rating of the book. And as much as I was mad at the author for it, I also understood that reasoning. June came from a simple background. Not poor (like the ‘surprise princess’ Rose Pinkstar who was the abandoned descendant of an uncle of the current prince), but not rich either, like the two main love interests (the prince, and the duke (who, if you did the math correctly, was related to that stupid-faced Rose)).

Since she came form an average family, one could expect for her to have grown up in a happy family. And half the tragedy of her character was that she had. When Rose turned 19, and, as all of that age, went to the royal palace to introduce herself to the king and queen, it was discovered that she was the long-lost daughter of Baron Avignon, who had tragically passed away that same year. June inherited his land, but the conditions for her appointment were that she needed to leave her previous life behind.

She struggled a lot with that decision, as there was nothing more dear to her heart than her parents and the small tailor shop they owned. In the end, she negotiated a better deal with the Duke of a neighbouring fief, where he’d pay her family a generous allowance, and will occasionally ‘misplace’ their carriage onto her land.

Before fully accepting her new role, she went back home one last time, to say goodbye. But, she did not return once her 3-day leave was over. At first many of the officials thought she’d ran away, but after sending a party to her parent’s house, and not finding her there, concern started to grow. It was only a week or so later when June reached the Capital City, accompanied by none other than miss-pretends-to-be-perfect Rose. June had stumbled into the monastery where Rose lived, severely wounded and covered in bruises. Through a very far-fetched logic, June discovered that Rose was a long lost princess, and accompanied her to the Capital.

However, that was not the important part. No, what stood out to me when I’d read it for the first time were the implications of how June had ended up in that state. Since the party sent to retrieve her had not found her at her parent’s house, it meant that they had hidden her away somewhere, under the floorboards or in walled-off part of a closet. And from the brief description of her injuries in the book, it had been made very clear that she had not gotten them on her own. There were also other instances that referenced both physical and emotional abuse in her past, like how she never took baths despite being easily able to afford so (which could be linked both to body image issues, and a history of being yelled at for taking too long to wash herself). There were also many off-hand comments that June made, like ‘never tasting a bread this fresh before’ or not knowing how to put hosiery on.

She reminded me of myself, when I was younger. My parents were of course never that bad, but they were also never there for me, be it at home after school or to explain to me how life worked. I felt abandoned and alone, and (as much as I hated to admit it), I had come to the conclusion that for someone to love me, they’d need to be in a worse place than me.

“Miss Akiho, should I take your plate?” The owner of the ramen stand approached me. For him to have come out from behind his post must have meant that I really overstayed my welcome.

And I realised that it was true, when I checked my watch and saw that I had spent over an hour and a half here, slowly sipping on my soda and staring at my empty plate.

“Yes of course. Sorry for taking so long.” I politely excused myself.

“It’s no trouble, see you next week, miss Akiho.” The owner waved goodbye.

I dashed towards the train station, hoping to make it in time to the manga store before it closed. Because otherwise I knew I’d have to stop by it on my way to work, and I wasn’t too keen on –

My hear hit the ground and I felt a crushing weight pass over me. I lost conciseness before I had had the time to feel any pain or realise what was happening.