It was a few weeks after a little incident involving my entire apartment building howling "SHUT UP!" at the same time (I guess even Broadway classics can get old after a while). It was Sunday again, and I was walking with Shizuka through the local park. Not my normal idea of a good time, but the sun was out and the weather wasn't so bad. It also didn't hurt that a woman I was coming to adore was by my side and happy as a clam.
We were passing through the center of said park when we noticed some sort of commotion going on on the opposite side of the center.
"...and the Americans continue to occupy our country and force us to be virtual vassals. Because of them we've become good for nothing else but making toys for spoiled children around the world. When will they let us go? The Pacific War has been over for seventy years, nearly all who fought in that war are long dead and the Cold War, their last excuse to stay here, has been over since before many now grown men were born. Why else are they here? We ask them to leave yet they say they must protect their interests here in the Pacific and so we are trapped by outsiders."
Hearing the name of my home country, I turned my head to glance over to the source of the sound. Set up in one corner of the cul-de-saq like center of the park was a small platform maybe three feet wide and three feet across, just big enough for a single man to stand on. Standing on said platform was a man around my age. He was wearing a black outfit vaguely familiar to the old Imperial Military Dress uniform, as were the three others standing on either side of the platform. All were fit and angry-looking young men, their arms crossed and their eyes seeming to challenge anyone to take them on.
Ah so these were some of the local ultra-nationalists… joy…
I had been...conflicted over how to deal with these clowns. On the one hand they were more than likely the most organized and driven group in the entire Nagoya Metropolitan area outside of the military or police force, and their leader's daughter was a student of mine who could be a useful link to them. On the other hand, these were the jokers who wanted Japan to return to her 'glory days' of the early 20th century and they were jackasses bar-none. For the moment, though, I'd made it a point to avoid them.
"Let's keep moving, no point in jackasses like that ruining a nice day." I said to Shizuka. She looked at me for a moment, slight concern for a second, then that satisfied smile she almost always had reasserted itself. "Alright, Tom-kun."
We making our way away from the Ultra bastards when Mr. Leather-lungs must have noticed me. "And look there. See how the Gaijin corrupt our culture and way of life! A woman of Japan imitates the West to whore herself out to a barbarous Gaijin!" One corner of my mind marveled at the over-dramatic way he spoke. The rest of my mind was too busy going into RAGE-mode to notice or even care.
Clenching my fists tight enough to make my knuckles crack, I came to a complete stop. My eyelid twitched erratically. Shizuka was looking on with concern. "Tom-kun?"
I extricated myself from her arm, then I turned and made my way towards the podium. The men who were not speaking tensed, they might have noticed the murder in my eyes. Making long, purposeful strides I came to a stop about three paces from the podium. The speaker, a younger guy with square glasses and short-cropped black hair looked me over, contempt on his face. "Yes, what do you want, Gaijin? Or did you not understand me? Maybe I should use smaller words."
I took a deep breath and reminded myself that knocking this son of a bitch's teeth out would result in police involvement then I responded. "Thou, sir, hast insult'd me and mine woman, in public. If this wast a moo civiliz'd time I wouldst be demanding that we meet on the field of hon'r whence I couldst extract mine pound of flesh from thy hide. Sadly that is nay long'r acceptable so I wilt settle with asking thou cease and desist with thy base sland'r.
Oh, I am s'rry, did thou not understandeth mine w'rds? then let me explain to thou in a mann'r that one of thine intellect couldst understand."
Everyone stared at the burly, hairy American speaking like a court noble from the Hien era, the speaker more so than any other. While he was stunned I snarled like a bear woken up in January. "FUCK YOU! YA SONOVABITCH! IF I EVER HEAR YA INSULTIN' ME GIRL EVAH AGAIN, I'LL RIP YA 'EART OUT THROUGH YER ASS! THEN I'LL MAKE YA EAT IT! DO YA UNDERSTAND?"
Perfect diction followed by crass insults and threats in the worst Kyushuu dialect they'd ever heard took all three young men aback, the one on the podium actually falling to the podium floor in a heap, his eyes wide and nodding rapidly.
Still angry but satisfied with terrifying the dick, I grinned. "Good then, I'm glad we had this conversation. Good day."
I returned to Shizuka who was staring at me, her normally half-closed eyes as wide as saucers.
I gave her a much warmer smile than what I'd given the three dicks at the podium and said; "Sorry about that, it just didn't sit right with me that those bastards would insult you like that."
"You didn't have to go that far." She said in a low voice.
"Well, those jackasses needed someone else yelling at them for once. Giving them a taste of their own medicine and all that." I said.
That set Shizuka giggling. "True, I've seen those jerks before. They always seem so angry, the way they yell at everyone all the time."
I chuckled and nodded, then I pulled her close and whispered in her ear. "Besides, they were wrong about you. I know you don't dye your hair... unless you're more thorough than I thought possible with your coloring regimen."
That got a blush and a squeal from Shizuka as she struck my chest with one of her small fists. "TOM-KUN!" she shouted indignantly. I just laughed in response, which got more mortified flailing from Shizuka.
All in all, it was a rather nice date.