Souichi's Diary of Delights; 双一の楽しい日記; Souichi no Tanoshi i Nikki by Junji Ito
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The most beautiful Hussein consents to her deception and the cobblestone! Souichi turns to look back at the slightly ajar door to where his parents sit and mindlessly consume whatever programming NHK provided.
You live under my roof. Holding a conversation with you shouldn't be like pulling teeth. Your mother put it on your desk. He'd been considering putting a curse on customer support from the book publisher's web site for all the non-answers they'd been giving him last week on when his prize would arrive. Maybe he'd still send that tsukumogami to possess their automated phone system anyway.
Trying to keep his cool, Souichi squares his shoulders and sets his hand on the rail before giving a mumbled "thanks. They're only liable to make things worse all things considered given their belief in his socially maladjusted nature.
Luckily his room is only a few short steps away from the landing. Casually striding into his room, and trying not to grimace at just how little things have changed since he was 12, he lets his bag fall near the entrance and begins using the towel to dry himself off before slipping into a t-shirt and sweatpants.
Even with the light switch he flicked on the room's angles seem perfectly suited to keeping him shrouded in darkness. Souichi didn't have a problem with that. Night is his element and stormy nights especially so. Nor would the various spirits that come and go as they see fit who board with him have it any other way.
After all he'd tried to get a brighter lamp for his high school entrance exam without giving his 'friends' any warning and he'd managed to have half of his study materials eaten before he'd managed to banish a particularly loathsome yokai that seemed to have the ability to mentally project music onto its victims. If only the people who looked down their noses at him at school had to deal with something that had a twelve step banishing ritual required you to listen to enka music endlessly looped inside your head then maybe they'd treat him with more respect.
Souichi's lack of popularity wasn't something that particularly mattered to him. He'd long since come to accept the fact that those around him simply had no capacity to understand the supernatural. They'd shuffle through life, awkwardly bumbling through the world around them, trying desperately to grasp what it all meant.
Souichi's Diary of Curses
Grandma had taught him everything he needed to know about the world hidden just beneath the surface of the one that surrounded them all and how best to manipulate it to his advantage. He almost pitied them in a way.Junji Ito Collection Episode 1 First Impressions
Maybe if they knew just how insignificant it made them in comparison they'd treat their future emperor with a little more respect. But Souichi knew that there would be plenty of time for groveling for forgiveness once he rose to power as their next emperor. Tossing the towel onto the mat flooring Souichi dropped in front of his desk, spitting out the nails into his hand and then carelessly tossing them into an empty chip bag.
Much as he'd like to immediately dive into his purchase there were other, more pressing matters to attend to. Kouichi was off at university studying architecture and, despite his own disbelief on the subject, Sayuri was studying modeling at some hoity-toity fashion school in Tokyo. The other chicks had long since left the nest and his parents had inevitably turned their attention to his future. Useless as school was, however, it wasn't something he could afford to ignore either.
Letting his grades slip too much meant an earful from his parents and a lecture by the homeroom teacher on his poor studying habits. It was the reason that he'd dug into the bag and begun sifting through the homework that'd been assigned for the evening. The words from his English workbook, literature, and math classes began running together even as he pulled out scratch paper and a pencil to get to work. At the very least the sooner he was done then the sooner he could crack open his ticket to success.
Despite the boredom that almost immediately set in from the torture in front of him not the fun kind that was for certainnot even the mandatory busywork could bring his spirits completely down.
Indeed, he felt practically invincible even with the raging weather just outside his house's thin walls.
Souichi was in love. Not that he would ever admit it aloud to anyone of course. Or at least he was pretty sure the feeling that had crawled into his gut was love. Oh, he thought he'd been deep in it before. Anjou Yuriko had been the class beauty in primary school and he'd spent more hours than he'd care to admit doodling them together, his lack of artistic talent notwithstanding.
Yanagida for butting his head in where it didn't belong, hated Michina for having the temerity of snooping in his room, and he hated Yuriko most of all for embarrassing him in front of his entire family.
There were many mysteries in the world, many of which Souichi knew the answers to, and there were those that he didn't understand whatsoever. Women happened to fall into the latter category. Up until recently it wasn't a pressing concern either. Now, though… When school had begun in spring, a girl had transferred to their high school. Right out of the gate this would've been a remarkable fact due to the out-of-the-way nature of Fukazawa itself. What made things infinitely more interesting was the third year in question.
She'd made all the men in school prostrate themselves before her, the girls muttering to one another jealously behind cupped hands, and her very presence sent ripples through the carefully constructed social hierarchy in place in their small town.
Souichi hadn't paid her much mind when he'd first heard about the debutante whose temper was a mile wide; if you met one, you met them all as far as he was concerned, and they were just as shallow as any other. Souichi's home room was on the second floor and overlooked the track and field. For all of his lack of social skills, it was still important to observe others, learn about what their habits were like.
Yet he hadn't been able to pay attention to any of the other students that day. He was seated in the very center of the desks that sat along the window, perfectly situated so that he was one of the first students who got a onceover to make sure they were paying attention to whatever lesson was occurring at any given moment, when he'd cast a glance outside to alleviate the monotony of eating alone.
The schoolyard had been filled with third years decked out in plain t-shirts and shorts that left little to the imagination, starch-and-sweat soaked underneath the baking afternoon sun. He didn't think of himself as a pervert, of course.
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So what if he took a glance or two at the girls outside? Whoever had designed and later assigned the uniforms in the first place had clearly far more underhanded intentions in mind than he ever had.
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She'd been hard not to notice even without the reputations she'd quickly began building for herself at their school. Every other girl around her seemed to pale in comparison to the ravenette who was skipping in time to the rope in her hands, her single braid jostling about on a delicate shoulder blade, and sweat the only thing blemishing her otherwise perfect features.
Souichi's mouth, despite the curry rice he'd been halfheartedly eating a moment ago, had gone utterly dry in that moment. He always had a snide comment to say, something in him somewhere that would be quick to tear someone else down but for the first time in his life he felt at a loss as to what to say. It hadn't even mattered when Hayate, the class bully who sat diagonally from him with a pencil thin mustache and beady eyes, had sneered at him that there was something horribly wrong with the girl.
He'd flashed a photo in Souichi's face, a token of his own attempts at having some way to get closer to the goddess just outside their classroom window, and informed him that she was at least 50 miles of bad road and that if he knew what was good for him even Souichi should run away with his tail between his legs. Souichi had snatched it out of his hands with the speed of a jet lifting off for takeoff and looked it over.
It had been a few seconds before he realized just what Hayate had been talking about. There, plain as day, was another head growing out of the side of the entrancing girl, eyes bloodshot and wide as they stared into nothingness, teeth jagged and jutting forth from a slit of a mouth, along with a uselessly lolling tongue.
Its flesh looked puffy and malformed almost as if it were a kind of grotesquely forming pimple. Souichi had felt his heart melt then. She wasn't just a pretty face after all. There was something far more special about her. The aura that clung to the girl was a mess, like a yarn ball tangled in dark Gordian knots, and it practically radiated straight off of Hayate's attempted sabotage.
Spite, avarice, jealousy, rage… all were there roiling within the cloud that seemed to linger over her form.