Hello fellow WiK members, and a very happy, hot and humid holiday season to you all. I’m not sure about your good selves, but at this time of the year, in Kyoto especially, I find it hard to generate enough energy or even enthusiasm for anything, including lengthy pieces of writing. It is at this time that I often turn to the short, short story, usually in an attempt to grow ideas toward kickstarting a broader project. With this in mind, I was hoping that you might be interested in joining me in a simple collaborative endeavor, mainly for fun, but also with an eye to completing a piece. Attached here, you will find the first (roughly) 1,000 words of a short story I have started. What I would like you to do, is provide me with a short synopsis (up to 100 words) of how you would see the second part developing. I already have three possible continuances in mind, but I am very interested to see how others might think. Of course, you can suggest both ideas and extra characters, and any other details that take your fancy.

OK. I’d like to set a deadline of August 31st for submissions, and you can contact me directly with your input on my email address: readers4readers@gmail.com

Look forward to hearing from you.
Kevin

Here Comes Kenji

Two-thirds into his first beer of the night, James raised his head from the reading of his newspaper to gaze absently around the barely populated pub.  Purposefully avoiding eye contact with any of the other early evening patrons, his attention settled on the large flat screen TV high on the wall to the right of the bar area, currently showing a baseball game between the Hanshin Tigers and Yomiuri Giants.  James had no interest in baseball.  Didn’t understand the game, its rules, or why it was so popular.  Judging by the way the other half dozen or so local punters littering this downtown joint were behaving, nor did they.  Nearly all were either staring into space, staring at their drinks, or staring, eyes closed, into their own souls. 

All save one.

Perched on a bar stool at the far end of the counter, and eyeing him intently through a soft drifting of cigarette smoke and dust motes, was a princess.  James straightened up in his chair and lifting his beer glass slowly to his lips, returned her look with a steady one of his own.

This was interesting.

Narrowing his eyes, the better to bring her face into focus, he struggled for signs of recognition.  She was certainly beautiful, undoubtedly self-assured, and making her interest in him blatantly obvious.  But he did not know her.  If they had met before, he most definitely would have remembered it.

Next move?

It was hers.  Sliding off the bar stool with a barely a sound, and plucking her wine glass up off the counter by its stem, she glided across the five meters or so distance between them like a swan on ice.  James now followed her progress with a little uncertainty.  What was happening here?  Then she was there.  Standing directly in front of him, looking down with an amused smile on her perfectly shaped, gloss red lips. She murmured,

“Americajin?” 

“No, English”, James replied cautiously, “You?”

“Very Japanese”, she responded with a laugh, inclining her head to one side and casually sweeping strands of her immaculately bobbed hair behind one ear.  James was as close to speechless he had ever been, but managed to gather himself enough to extend an invitation,

“Would you like to join me?”

With a small nod of acceptance, and another effortlessly seductive smile, she lowered herself into the chair opposite his, taking a long sip from her glass before slowly placing it on the table.  James took a quick look around the bar to see if anyone else was bearing witness to this, but nothing had really changed. No one seemed to be showing any interest in how this little scene was playing out, except for perhaps the bartender, who, despite fiddling with a beer tap, was actually casting furtive glances in their direction.  James knew this dude from the few times he had visited this pub before after first arriving in Kyoto a couple of months earlier.  He was a pretty cool young Japanese guy with decent English, and as they were close to the same age, they’d chatted a bit about this and that while James was being served.  James raised his eyebrows a couple of time to register the universal code for surprise, but the bartender’s expression came back a little flat, in fact almost hostile.  Strange. 

Still, James had something else to occupy his mind with right now, and she was in a very friendly mood.  The conversation went back and forth easily, and very soon James began to relax into it.  She told him her name, Reina, and of her love for speaking English and travel.  He explained why he had come to Japan, and a little of his previous life in the UK.  She talked of her hometown in Osaka, and how she had moved to Kyoto for work.  He brought up the difficulty he was having nailing down decent employment, but was confident something great would turn up in time.  Pretty soon, and much to James’s surprise, they found themselves exchanging phone numbers and LINE details and were even chatting over the idea of leaving and moving on to another more interesting hostelry. All in all, they appeared to be getting along just swimmingly … until. 

James had noticed the hint of a tattoo peeking out from under the short sleeve of the blouse she was wearing, and intrigued by something he had not seen on any of the young Japanese women he encountered thus far, decided to casually comment on it,

“That’s an interesting bit of artwork on your arm, Reina, can I see the rest of it?”

Getting surprisingly flustered and even a little panicked, she tugged on the shirt sleeve in an attempt to hide it, and then rather abruptly stood up and muttering something in Japanese, made a short apologetic gesture and excused herself, claiming an urgent need to visit the toilet.  James sat back a little astonished by this sudden change in mood and events, and shaking his head, picked up their glasses and headed to the bar.  Maybe a fresh round of drinks would get things back on track. Obviously, he had struck a nerve, but couldn’t for the life of him figure out what the big issue was.

Arriving at the counter, he gave a little wave to catch the eye of the young bartender, who was nearly finished serving another customer, and got a curt ‘in a minute’ nod in return. While waiting for his turn, he swiveled from side to side to check if Reina was returning from the toilet, and to clock the rest of the clientele.  This time, far from ignoring his presence, more than several sets of eyes were firmly fixed on him, and one or two faces even bore expressions of intense hatred.  What the ….?  James did not like the feel of this one bit.  At that moment, the bartender rocked up, and before James could get a word out, spoke low and hard,

“I think you need to leave, man”

James was shocked,

“What’re you talking about, mate. I haven’t done anything”

The bartender shook his head,

“That girl you’re with.  She’s not yours, she’s not for you”

James let out a nervous laugh,

“I’m not with her, mate.  We’ve only just met.  What’s the big problem?”

The bartender leant forward and hissed,

“Listen!  I’m trying to do you a favor. Everyone in here knows her, and they know her friends.  I think a call has already been made.” 

And now in a raised voice.

“Seriously, you just need to go!!”

At that moment, two things happened simultaneously.  Reina, who had now reappeared, stood shaking with both hands clamped to her mouth, and the door to the bar flew open, ricocheting off the faux brick wall with a resounding bang and a shattering of glass.  Coming right through it was a very large, very hard looking Japanese guy with a less than genial look about him.

The bartender stepped back and muttered under his breath,

“Majikayo, Kenji daze” – “Oh shit, here comes Kenji”.