The Final Wall, Part 2
I continued my week at this school, eventually going to the Sports Day festival on Saturday. I’ve never really written about Sports Day, and I might at some point in the future, but not here. Just know that it involves a lot of running, kids stepping on each other, and endless shouts of “Gambare!”
I mentioned before I’d had a nasty accident that Wednesday, and as a result I had both hands, my right arm, and my right knee bandaged up pretty good. This ensured I wouldn’t have to do any real legwork on Sports Day, and gave me a pretty comfortable seat at the nurse’s station, under the shaded tent.
After Sports Day ended, I hung around to talk to the kids as they picked up their stuff and left the field. One girl approached me, and complained about all the stuff she had to carry – her chair, cheerleading pom-poms, a tea thermos, and her bag. I was all bandaged up, but I just couldn’t resist the opportunity to be Heroic Strong Mr. Gaijin to a young Japanese girl. In retrospect, I think she knew that and exploited it. For all you guys who want to date a Japanese girl, you should get used to this kind of exploitation, cause you’re gonna see it, A LOT.
Anyway, I offered to carry the chair for her, as well as somehow balance her tea thermos and the pom-poms on it. She did the usual “You sure that’s okay?” but wasted no time in passing me the items. In the hallway of the school, one of her friends expressed jealousy in that she didn’t get to have her stuff carried for her. KA-POW goes the testosterone-fueled male hero-trigger in my brain, so I offer to carry her chair as well. So in one hand, I had a chair, a tea thermos, and pom-poms. In the other hand, I had another chair and a backpack. And both hands are heavily bandaged. Amazingly enough, this wasn’t too much of a problem, just took a little balancing. And I’ll admit, I took joy in having the girls around me revel at my strength and heroism, even if they were only 15. It’s sad that this is what I have to resort to, to get my ego-fix. But eh, you’d do the same, and even if you wouldn’t, I’ll convince myself that you would to help me sleep at night.
We got up to the third floor, and I was maybe 10 meters away from the girl’s homeroom. Suddenly, out of *nowhere* (and I can’t stress this enough), Watson FLIES out of one of the classrooms and jabs me in the nuts. The whole thing happened in like .00000001 seconds, before I even knew what had happened I’d been jabbed in the nuts.
What kills me about this is that it wasn’t just a low blow, it was The Lowest of All Blows. I mean, getting a crouching fierce to the nuts is one thing (and really, it ought to be the end of the story), but a crouching fierce to the nuts … while BOTH hands were tied during an act of chivalry. AND I was injured! A ref should have ran out and red-carded him. We were nowhere near a soccer field, but I figure something like this is a foul against life. If this were professional fighting, he would be permanently barred from the circuit. If this had happened on the streets he’d be convicted of a felony. But no, this happened within the hallways of a Japanese school, so la da dee, la de da life goes on. Gambare, Mr. Gaijin.
Watson teleported away somewhere, but figuring he was still within earshot (my current theory is that Japanese teleportation is short-range, which is why it has NO startup) I swore I’d get revenge as soon as I put the chairs down. I finally made it to the girl’s homeroom and chatted with them and some other students for a bit before leaving. Heading down the hallway, I looked inside one of the other classrooms and spotted Watson talking to a friend. With his back turned towards me. Completely oblivious to the door.
In that instant, there was only one thought. One recourse, one course of action. There was no internal moral struggle, no questioning of my sensibilities. Both Devil Az and Angel Az were out to lunch somewhere. There was one and only one thing I could do … no, I had to do. That final wall came crumbling down and any shreds of my sanity I could have claimed to still have evaporated in a puff of smoke.
Darth Azrael: You know now what you must do.
I ran inside of the classroom, slid on one knee … and gave Watson The Unholiest of All Kanchos. I mean, I was still sliding on my knee when I did it, so that shit had some momentum behind it. Not only physics, but spiritually as well – this was not just for the low blow, but everything up to that point. Trying to ride me like a horse, trying to finagle my watch away, the constant attempts at my dick. And then stuff he wasn’t even responsible for started rising up as well. Small children running away from me simply because I exist. My bitch ex-girlfriend from hell. Every time I’ve hit my head on a doorway because Japanese architects couldn’t conceive a human being standing over 6 feet tall. The Adventures of Briscoe County Jr. getting cancelled in its prime. McDonalds randomly bringing the McRib back and then taking it away as quickly as it came. Lolita Confinement Lesbian. It was like in the Power Rangers, when the Red Ranger gets the ultimate super awesome cool weapon, and then all the other Rangers stand behind him and lend their power … except the Red Ranger was me, and the super ultra cool weapon was kancho. I kanchoed the living shit out of that boy. Watson may never properly father children. “But Az,” you say, “isn’t that the wrong end?”
Watson was shocked, to say the least. I’d calmly left the classroom, reveling in my own perceived victory. Watson came exploding out of the classroom, and damn near tackled me. Keep in mind that I’m still bandaged up here, so I can’t really put up a good fight. I manage to hold him off, but Watson gets one final jab to the nuts in before running away. It was only much, much later that I realized the significance of it all – Azrael just kanchoed a bitch, with absolutely no thoughts of remorse, disgust, or horror. And that’s it. This job has finally, completely claimed my sanity.
Welcome to the Darkside. Please enjoy your stay.