HIKA-boo
“There you have it, folks! The second death of these here Hunger Games. Our very own Haruhi Fujioka. You will be missed. RIP.” Shougo glowed, speaking into the mic, “MAN, I feel so lucky that Kid Luffy commissioned me out to commentate these here Hunger Games. I’m just like, so FUCKING flattered.”
“Who’s Haruhi Fujioka?” Kid Luffy asked, watching Shougo commentate from the other side of the TV screen.
Ace shifted his tie over his bare torso, “Maybe she’s an NPC?”
Lord Goo coughed from his position as a footstool, “She’s an Oxbridge student, m’lord.”
“Ew,” Kid Luffy grimanced, kicking his feet (and subsequently Lord Goo’s rippling abs).
Shougo turned to his cameraman. His outfit showed he was entirely unequipped for the surrounding terrain: his usual tight-fitting ripped jeans, layered chain necklaces, long-sleeved v-neck shirt ripped at the hem to expose his clenched abdominal muscles and a tasseled cropped leather jacket. If he were to hold his arms outward like a bird of prey he would reveal wings made of long black tassels.
Shougo pulled the machete out from where it was strapped to his waist, long tassels shifting. “Wanna go on an adventure?” he stuck the tip of his tongue out cheekily, winking at the camera. “Call me Indiana Shougo, I’ll steal your sacred treasure...your heart, that is,” he winked again.
Flicking his machete, he ripped through the surrounding foliage with reckless abandon, chopping down trailing vines, obscuring branches and the occasionally sapling tree.
After a few hours of Shougo destroying local wildlife, the man soon paused. He looked absolutely pristine, clothing perfectly in place, not a hair out of place.
“Shhh,” Shougo’s hand hovered by his ear, “Do you hear that? Come here, come here,” Shougo motioned the camera closer, crouching at the edge of a clearing. The camera zoomed in on the man’s face, his golden eyes glowing with playful mirth. A few drops of sweet dripped down his face, glittering in the sun like a twilight vampire.
A pair of binoculars materialised in his hands, allowing him to scan the area.
“Yes… yes I was right,” he murmured to himself, then, to the camera, “This creature is close to extinction...but today we’re lucky enough to see him with our own eyes…” Shougo looked through his binoculars again, turning to face the gap in the foliage.
“Come closer,” he said in a low tone, motioning the camera, “Slowly...slowly...you don’t want to scare him away.”
The camera shifted, pushing through leaves and vegetation before pointing to an embankment.
At the embankment stood a young man in a pristine blue school outfit, crying while staring at his feet. He stood by a cliff, not close enough to fall off, but close enough to be of use later.
“In front of us now,” Shougo began in a silken tone, bearing an odd likeness to Attenborough, “is a wild Hikaru. This Hikaru seems to be crying. I wonder why?”
“KAORU!” Hikaru screamed, voice shrill, “MY DESIGNER SHOES ARE SCUFFED! IF ONLY I HADN'T TRIPPED OVER THAT MOSS COVERED LOG!”
“Ah yes. A Hikaru is oftentimes seen crying in times of great distress. Here we can hear him calling for his brother. Hikaru’s and Kaoru’s are known for a deep sense of codependency. This symbiotic relationship is perhaps one of the most deeply unhealthy yet emotionally soothing ones available in the wild world. Should we get closer?”
The camera moved up and down in a nod.
With a gleeful smirk, Shougo slunk closer to the crying young man, motioning to the camera for silence.
“We are mere metres away from this endangered species,” Shougo said in a low tone, standing literally two feet from Hikaru. “As the last of his kind left, it would be quite disarming if there were none of them left, eh?”
“What - what are you talking about?” Hikaru sniffled, rubbing his fist in his eye sockets like a five year old child.
“The sounds coming from its vocal chords are an attempt to communicate. Listen to the warbling cry of this young Hikaru. To find out more, let me bring out my Hikaru Whisperer.”
Hikaru looked at Shougo, dumbfounded. “But we’ve literally -”
A man who looked very out of place in the Japanese surroundings entered the frame, chewing on a stalk of hay.
“Care to introduce yourself?” Shougo asked him, moving the mic to the man’s face.
“Yaw, mer name’s Joe Exotic, yeehaw,” he said, “Wanna be my boyfriend?”
“God no!” Someone cried from behind the camera.
“Shame, shame.” his thumbs were tucked into his jean pockets and he rocked back on his toes, “Well yer’all might a’ heard of me as t’he Hi-kaurou Whisperer -”
“Is he trying to say my name?” Hikaru looked aFFRonted, “YOU’RE BUTCHERING IT WITH YOUR ACCENT --”
“AND i - DON’T - CARE !” Joe Exotic cried, spittle flying out of his mouth.
“Oh my,” Shougo gasped, “We’re seeing something rarely ever recorded in the wildlife kingdom. The Hikaru’s attempts to communicate are being met with those of our very own wildlife expert. I wonder what will happen next.”
Shougo turned to Joe, “Exotic-san, can you ask him: ‘young boy, why are you crying?’”
Mr Exotic nodded his head, his bountiful yellow curls bouncing on his shoulders. His yellowed meth-blunted teeth were bared when he parted his lips in a grin. “Young boyh, will yer be ma Honey Boo-Boo?” he whispered, straight into the host club's eye.
Hikaru bawled into his palms. “I don't want to live anymore!” he sobbed, over and over.
“Nawh, he broken,” Joe announced sadly to the camera crew, shaking his head. “The only humane thing to do now is to put him down, just like I sometimes gotta do to my 6-week old newborn tiger cubs when they healthy n all. N here were me thinkin he were gonna las’ longer than the last one.” Joe pulled his gun out of his side holster, pressing it against Hikaru’s temple.
“And here we see what they call in the wildlife: a stand-off. To determine who is predator and prey, oftentimes Hikaru’s will get into fights with other beasts in the wild. It’s a rare occurrence to see them fighting with rael humans. Normally they are caught fighting with their reflection.”
“IF MY PRISTINE SKIN IS MARRED WITH A ZIT, WHAT AM I TO DO??” Hikaru cried, genuine remorse and upset on his face.
“Exotic-san, what is this young boy saying?”
Joe Exotic mumbled under his breath, shaking his legs out as if he was high on drugs, shifting the gun between his fingers, eyes darting back and forth.
“Anyway, goodbye.” The camera panned away from Joe suddenly, the space of the screen only taken by Shougo. “Let’s see what -”
“HELL NAWR! Give me my TV time back!” Joe swung around, raising his hand to swipe at the camera crew.
Shougo lazily drew his machete, poking it through Joe’s chest like one might skewer an olive. Joe fell to the ground, out of view of the camera, machete still planted inside his body.
“Now that that segment’s over, let me show you this. It’s a translator. I can understand everything this wild Hikaru is saying to me now. Young boy, why are you crying?” Shougo held the device in the young Hikaru’s direction.
“My twin! Kaoru!”
“As we can see here,” Shougo turned to the camera, “With the power of technology - this wild Hikaru is calling for his twin.”
“Didn’t we already know that?” the cameraman asked.
“Perhaps,” Shougo said, spreading his arms wide with grandeur, tassels fluttering, “But now it is CONFIRMED, with the power of technology. And what kind of wildlife expert would I be if I did not try to reunite this wild Hikaru with his long-lost Kaoru?”
Hikaru sniffled again, rubbing his fist over his face. “You - you’ll help me?”
“Sure! Why not?” Shougo slapped the young boy on the back. “And you know… I think I heard that there was a Kaoru nesting not far from here…”
“KAORU?” Hikaru asked, eyes shining with hope. “Where?”
“I’ve been tracking him for a long time. Eons, one might say - looking for footprints in the dirt, for signs of disturbance in the woods…and all of my efforts have paid off. I’ve been given the opportunity to reunite this here wild Hikaru with his Kaoru, and perhaps for the first time ever we might be able to record an interaction between these magnificent creatures. Perhaps they might even let us into their habitat…Young boy, follow the direction of my tassels, the direction they blow when the wind tickles them; allow nature to be your humble guide.”
Hikaru nodded desperately, “Show them! Please!”
Shougo slowly lifted his arm, wind shifting through his tassels, moving them perpenDICKular to his arm.
“KAORU! I’m cumming!” Hikaru cried.
The tassels pointed towards the nearby cliff face- he must be down there!
Hikaru stumbled, falling on his hands and knees, eyes wet and face snotty with snot. He pulled himself up with sheer will, trying to grab at a tree trunk - and when that proved unfruitful - plant his quivering hands on the ground and force himself to standing.
Shougo very poorly concealed an elated giggle with a cough. Hikaru, in his mania, did not notice, scrabbling for the cliff face.
“Kaoru!” he shouted down the cliff, “Kaoru, where are youuuuuu???” his voice echoed. There was no Kaoru in sight - where was he?????
“Shout louder,” Shougo helpfully suggested, “From my research no Kaoru can stand the mournful cries of his Hikaru for long. He will hear you, wild Hikaru. And he will cum.”
Tears blurred Hikaru’s vision. Was Kauro nearby???? He would never leave him alone, he must have been searching for Hikaru too, twas why he’d gone down the cliff face, surely?
“KAUROOOOO-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!???????????” before Hikaru knew it he was falling off the cliff, to his death, directly in the direction the tassles had led him - with Shougo standing over him, menacing grin on his face. He looked almost…demonic. Like a demon. Or the son of a DEVIL. Hikaru reached up, but the wind was whipping by him too fast, and before he knew it –
A cannon fired, indicating the next death in the Hunger Games.
“And there you have it, folks. The third death in these here Hunger Games. But certainly not the stupidest. I’m just glad I got to witness it, aren’t you?”
The camera moved up and down, nodding.
“Another victim of my tassles. Hell, how was I to know they thirsted for blood so much? Nature has decided Hikaru’s fate: death. Lets see whose next fate is death oooooooooonn – PRANK STAGE!!”