Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Tokio Love Monogatari	By : kamorgana Category: Rurouni Kenshin > General Views: 4092 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply. Rurouni Kenshin is property of Watsuki, but the ideas, plots, text and OCs are *mine*. Story written for non-profit purposes

Edited for disclaimer. Thanks to Firuze, RedHedlvr, Malik's girl and Anon for their reviews.

Tags:
Genre: humor/parody/romance.

Rating: Strong R, for crude sexual humor/references, language, alcohol/substances consumption, lemon (chapter 4 is NC-17) yaoi/shonen-ai references in later chapters and general bitch fest.
This story in inspired loosely from �Sex and the City�, which I don�t own more than RK. The similarities and few plotlines elements that I will borrow for fun are the property of Candace Bushnell and Darren Star.

Warning: This fiction is politically and romantically incorrect (chapter 1 is very tame). This is a *parody*: all the characters including some of my favorite get their share of acid. I have respect for no one and nothing here, so those devoid of sense of humor when it comes to their favorite characters or the greatness of �Titanic� and other rosewater stuff should avoid reading.
Main characters: Tokio, Megumi, Yumi, Tomoe, Misao, Kamatari, Saitoh, Aoshi, Sano, Enishi. Many �recurring� guests, too. Pairings: most are canon, but there are a few surprises.
Dedicated to Firuze, Mara and Gracey.

Tokio Love Monogatari

Chapter 1: Four brunettes

Human condition has always been about struggle. It started with cavemen for a chunk of meat, a better stone for a lance, a bigger dusty cave, or a less hairy woman. Well, the last part is my guess, but I have a personal obsession (that I rather call a cute little mania) about hairs. I mean, if a mat on the chest for women has stopped to be trendy around that time, it must be for a good reason, like being a major turn off, hence endangering the species, don�t you agree?
Anyway, I sometimes get the feeling that nothing changed. I had one of these moments the other day, when I extricated myself from a group of squealing harpies, whose only human quality was that they hadn�t yet regressed from the state of Homo erectus, and were still standing on two legs. I was disheveled, had three nails broken with nevertheless the satisfaction to know that they were probably still planted in one of the bitches� neck, and I couldn�t say that I was still decently dressed, but I had the prize in my hand.
The last model of Hermes handbag, with a 60% off tag.
To understand how our ancestors lived back then, no need to visit boring old historical sites. Going to the closest department store a day of bargain is enough.
Not that I need to buy half-price. I�m the director of the most famous women�s fashion magazine, and let me tell you that in Japan it�s a more important job than Prime Minister, and that it pays way more, too. I feel sometimes on the top of the world: one word, and millions of women change their appearance, creating long files in front of the garbage boxes to throw the old-fashioned items, and making pious pilgrimages to the Temples (at least their merchants) where the �must have or you�re a dork� ones are available. It amused me, at first, and I had fun initiating extremely ridiculous tendencies, just to see, everyday, some proofs of my superiority in the streets. The hot red and green combination �Santa�s Elf� look? I�m guilty as sin. The tanned skin and white eye shadow *all around* the eyes, with two kilos of black mascara in between? I dared to call it a �balance in contrasts�. The 19th century maid fashion? I�m as black as a dark soul on this one. But hey, I didn�t put a gun on their head so they�d follow it!
Still, as I said, it stopped to be fun after a while, and I decided that I had to be a woman with a mission. I was turning thirty at the time, and I had to be a full grown up, with a more serious goal in life than winning the bargain rat race (ah, yeah, the point of all this: bargains are another of my sweet little manias).
I had the inspiration, five years ago, when going for lunch to the new fusion low calories vegetarian cuisine caf� of Ginza, the one just next to Tiffany�s. I was in a �nothing�s changed since the Ice Age� mood since I had been to the Vuitton bargain just before, and passing in front of the jewelry, it struck me. The windows attracting the most women were the wedding rings ones. They were looking at it like the Titanic passengers must have been looking at the rescue boats. The girls passing with their men were trying more or less subtly to drag them to �give a look�, and the guys were trying to pretend more or less subtly that they had fallen victim of sudden deafness or aggravated idiocy. The only couples that were indeed entering the shop were composed of one element showing already a little round belly, and the other one having an expression not unlike the cowboys�, on the verge to be hanged, in American Westerns.
And there, I realized that indeed, nothing had changed. Still the same old song. Not my tune, so I decided to share my enlightening views on the love lives of my contemporaries in an editorial. It was an instant success, unfortunately, more of esteem, as nobody actually follows my advice. But well, if I had thought one minute that I could change anything in this society except for shallow things like the way women are dressing, I would have tried to be Prime Minister in the first place. Morons will be morons, and I�m not a goddess, I know my limits.
***
Let�s go back to that day. You know, the Hermes bag day. It will become the �day that turned my life upside down�, eventually, after a few digressions.
After stopping at the Prada boutique to look more presentable, and have an outfit coordinated with my new Hermes bag, I hurried to the Fidji low calorie cuisine restaurant which had opened on the opposite side of Tiffany�s, for a lunch with my friends.
I was the last one to arrive, and both Yumi and Megumi gave me a dirty look: the latter, because she hates when people are late, and the former, because I arrived later than her, preventing her from making a Queen of Heart-like entry, as always.
Tomoe, absorbed in reading the menu, lifted her head and just nodded with an enigmatic smile. It drives men crazy: they would cut their right hand for her when she smiles like this. We all tried to imitate it, failing miserably, and went on wearing very low cut tops, which has usually the same effect, anyway.
�What�s your great news?� I asked her after an apologetic smile at the two others, though I was pretty sure of what was coming.
�I�m engaged. I�ll have the tuna papaya salad, no dressing,� she answered to my explicit question and to the interrogative look of the waitress, in her posed, calm voice.
Those who have bread have no teeth: Tomoe can have any man with a smile, but he, poor thing, won�t get any without an engagement ring. Life can be unfair.
�I didn�t know that having sex demanded an official announcement.�
It might seem cruel, but Megumi was right. Tomoe gets engaged, gets laid, but after some time, she finds a flaw on her diamond (it was an actual reason, once), and she breaks up. We lost the count of her fianc�s, something like 15, I think. She never got to be married once. If she doesn�t give up looking for Mr. Perfect, she never will.
�How is Enishi doing? He must be so happy for you,� Yumi added, suavely.
That�s probably the reason behind Tomoe�s serial-engager thingy. She is from a very traditional family, and since her father is, if I understood well, quite, ahem, �special�, her little brother is assuming the role of head of the family. When I say little, I don�t mean in shorts like a schoolboy, though the idea is rather interesting, considering that he�s 25 and supremely hot. He�s also supremely protective of his sister, and if her smile weren�t enough, a look at Enishi�s unfriendly face would decide any guy to make an honorable woman out of Tomoe. You don�t want to mess with Enishi, unless you�re wearing skirts. Then you want him to mess with you.
On the other hand, he never finds the guys worthy enough of her, and he never really mourns their dismissal. Except for the only time when Tomoe was actually dumped, 15 years ago, but peeing in a mailbox, dismantling a car�s engine and paying for a montage of the traitor in feminine underwear to appear on every advertising space of the city can�t be considered as mourning, either. Enishi has always been a very imaginative guy, that�s at least what Yumi confided in me after their little fling, last year.
�He�s fine. As long as I�m happy, he�s happy. And he�s got a girlfriend.�
Tomoe knows about the fling, and she didn�t like it. I still regret that Yumi and Enishi broke up by mutual agreement, I will always wonder if Tomoe would have come up with such an interesting revenge. Yes, she forgave her ex, but only after seeing the ads. Traditional people are quite into vendetta, as it seems.
At least, when their family is a branch of the Japanese Mafia.
�He always has a girlfriend, of course, he�s a great guy,� I said, to soothe her mood a bit.
�He�s a nice boy,� she smiled, genuinely.
It always works.
�Yeah, that�s why he always ends up with pains in the neck,� Megumi mused.
After this remark, I have to precise one thing. Megumi is smart. She�s a neurosurgeon, head of her department. Because she is at the good end of the scalpel, nobody complains about her lack of social skills, so she never had an opportunity to correct the problem. But it�s a chance that she aims for the Nobel of Medicine rather than the Nobel of Peace.
Yumi snorted. �He might end up dating you one day, so. That will be an occasion to announce that you have finally a sex life again.�
Oho. Ever heard of Tom and Jerry? That�s Yumi and Meg. They spend their time arguing, but try to attack one and the other will reduce you to shreds. I met them at the university and it was already like this. Reportedly, it has been like this since kindergarten.
�You have enough for two, so I don�t feel that I endanger the country�s sexual activity ratio.�
More exactly, Yumi has enough for Tomoe, Meg, and half of the sexless women of Tokyo. Poets would describe her as a �free spirit�, but Yumi isn�t versed into poetry and prefers the word �slut�. She takes it as a compliment: women are jealous of her, and she is never short of a man. She loves sex, and she doesn�t give a damn about people�s opinion. Everybody has a hobby, after all. She glorifies into always having been one, though she also has reportedly been very in love in high school, and ended up with �a blade piercing her bleeding heart�, as poets would put again. Yumi doesn�t correct: she doesn�t talk about it. I heard that the guy was an arsonist fireman. I can�t ask. Re-read the parts about Megumi, scalpels, and shreds, and you�ll understand why we all prefer to keep our questions for ourselves. Life is full of little enigmas.
The salads arrived, interrupting the conversation and reminding me that I wanted to research why other dishes were available, when all the clients (all women) only ordered vegetables. I mean, who really wants to eat, and take the risk not to fit anymore in designers� dresses?
�You don�t ask me how he is like?� Tomoe said softly, her black eyes sad and her smile vanishing.
This expression usually gets her a bigger diamond at Tiffany�s. Yes, she is the only non-pregnant woman to have ever gotten an engagement ring there (more like 15, she also holds that record). The most infuriating is that it isn�t a trick. It�s natural, so you can�t even hate her for always getting what she wants (or somebody to get it for her).
Nevertheless, as none of us has the part of the human anatomy triggering the usual reaction, we acted as real friends. We were ruthless.
�Well, he�s rich, polite and well educated�� I started.
�He is very gentle, sweet, giving, not too manly, by the way you really have weird tastes�.� Of course this was Megumi.
�You�re so in love with him, almost as much as your first love in primary school, but you�ll have a problem with him in bed,� Yumi added, yawning. �And to spare you another disappointment�.�
�You know unconsciously that he isn�t the man of your life, which is why you can�t get satisfaction,� we finished as a choir.
After 15 times or so, we were quite familiar with the issue; and ready for Takarazuka with our little show.
�He�s different. I�m sure, this time.�
The three still fully single women at our table exchanged knowing glances. We had *also* heard this 15 times or so. As Megumi was snorting and Yumi smiling smugly, I sacrificed myself.
�We wish you all the happiness in the world, Tomoe-chan.�
�Thank you, Tokio-chan. You might want to know his name, or you two psychic girls have also guessed that?� she smiled, serenely.
Darn how I regret that Yumi didn�t dump Enishi.
***
We parted in front of the restaurant, and it came to my mind that we were really making a weird group. Heiress Tomoe, in her purple kimono, with her distantly serene maintain, getting into her limousine driven by that small, ugly Chinese guy; doctor Megumi in her eternal black suit, with her elegantly brusque manners, jumping into a taxi direction her clinic; PR Yumi in her tight, short white dress, with her seductive gall, heading for an appointment with a future rock star; and fashion journalist me, in my Prada summer yellow dress, and with what people call my bohemian sophistication, which is just a nice appellation for �posh but messy �, standing on the sidewalk, lighting a cigarette, before going back to the office to write my editorial.
I was really giving a thought to Tomoe�s problem. Was it possible that she didn�t have a satisfying love life because she had fallen madly in love almost 30 years earlier? Why didn�t she try to find him, then? Was it only a pretext to her permanently unsatisfied state?
Could love be that much disturbing?
I knew that I had the subject of my article, but not that I would also get the answer, and as soon as later that day.
Human condition has always been about struggle. Life can be unfair, and full of enigmas. Love is all that.
To be continued.
Author�s notes:
Thanks to Firuze, L.Sith and Mary-Ann for beta-reading. You�re the best!
The title is a pun with an old popular Japanese drama series, Tokyo Love Monogatari (story), but the story bears no similarity with it. The title of this chapter refers to another of Bushnell�s books, �Four Blondes�.
The Takarazuka Company (situated in the city of the same name, near Kobe) could be boldly called the modern �equivalent� of Japanese theatre, Kabuki, as in Kabuki, men play all the roles; while in Takarazuka, only women are on stage. Nevertheless, except this particularity and outrageous make up, there is between the two the abyssal gap separating art and commercial entertainment.
It was funny to write a Tokio who is very different from the responsible ones I usually portray. There are lots of sides that I despise in this one, but she has her qualities too (and she is less of a moron than she seems). For the people knowing the series, she is Carrie, Megumi is Miranda, Yumi is Samantha and Tomoe is Charlotte, though this isn�t a morph, in the strict meaning of the term.

Thanks to Firuze and Anon for their nice reviews of "odds and ends".

Next Chapter: The rules of attraction. A night at Enishi�s club will reveal very instructive on the matter.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Tokio Love Monogatari