F . L . C . L. : How To Start A Fight
Bad Ronald
Three.
Haruko was the most interesting thing in my life, but Takkun's different. Takkun's the one who can actually beat me up to the point where my life's flashing before my eyes. I'm not talking about my brother, Tadaku, who Mamimi was smitten with before, but Takkun Datsu, who Mamimi's smitten with now. Takkun's the only one to beat me up so badly that I find myself passing out, and I love it. It's pure freedom.
And I'm not a masochist, just so you know. But to be in Fight Club is to be in a place where you can let yourself go free. Most people don't believe it, but they go anyway. To see the truth. And when they see, they join. When they join, they finally get their first taste of freedom. Then they all thank us, both of us. Takkun and I, creators of Fight Club. Central Leadership.
Surprised? Don't be. I was with him every step of the way.
Imagine yourself on the ground, screaming and punching air. This guy's mashing his elbow into your teeth. You think you feel something snap off from your gums and you think you hear it rattle on the ground. Imagine the thrill and joy as you avenge that broken tooth. Pushing off the ground and planting your knee into his ear. Roaring in triumph. Imagine this crowd of shirtless, shoeless men, no boys and no girls and just us grown-ups, all around you. They're all screaming in their own language and speaking in their own tongue.
Look around and look around. And you see them and you smile. There used to be new, freshly-shaven, picture perfect faces in this crowd but now they're all so ugly. They've all destroyed something beautiful and it shows. They've all destroyed themselves so that they can be who they are now. So that they can be free.
This crowd, it's one giant living pulsing thing all around us with the florescent flickering lights above that you don't even notice and that constant never-ending roar. This is the best thing about Fight Club.
Right here, right now, you're so busy helping this other man destroy himself that you don't notice that you're being shaped into an ugly piece of shit too. After this fight, when you look in the mirror, you'll be so proud. So proud of your smashed-in jaw. So proud of your broken nose. And where the hell is your ear? And does it really matter? Of course it doesn't. Because you've just been set free, and now you really, really want to see us and thank us. The creators. Central Leadership.
This is how I met Takkun Datsu. When I first met him, he dropped down in front of me, from nowhere.
He was running away from this group of guys in a basketball court I happened to be crossing. He was trying to start a fight, but he lost his nerve. I'm sure Takkun knew about the guys being a territorial gang and all, but really, what did you expect? This is Takkun we're talking about. He cursed them out and threw cases of soap at them from his knapsack. Called them pansies. Tried to start a fight.
When they came for him, he broke and ran. And before they could get to him, he climbed the fence faster than anything. That's when he dropped down in front of me, completely out of nowhere.
"You have the time?" Takkun said. I didn't understand what he was saying; the guy was breathing and coughing at the same time. He was in luck, though, I always wear a watch.
"You have the time?"
I said, huh?
"The time, right here, right now. Come on."
It's 4:06 p.m. Four o' six, so that means in America, the land of the constant lawsuit, my brother has probably hit a home run. Takkun smiled and handed me a bar of soap from his knapsack. As soon as the first boy jumped over the fence, he was gone.
Hello, Takkun.
It's very nice to see you again. And have you come to deliver me yet?
I meet him again during school, after class. After learning about how to use chopsticks, or how to cut paper, or how to pee, I'm heading down the hall. I'm headed this way because Ninamori never comes this way. I'm also going this way because I didn't do my homework.
If she found me, she'd give me hell. I didn't do my homework so it's this big sin on her part. It's not enough that she has to be perfect, but I have to be perfect too. Clean-shaven. Freshly laundered. Picture-perfect.
If she found me, she'd act like she was my boss. She'd give me a lecture along with one of her patented poker faces. She'd give me one of those passing looks that will not-so-subtly say she's better than me. And I really don't need that right now.
A tap on my shoulder and cue Takkun Datsu. Takkun tosses me a bar of soap and a smirk. It's you.
He laughs and he says, "I'm not 'you'. Call me Takkun."
I'm thinking of Mamimi down under that lonely bridge, down at the river. If she met this guy and liked him, what would she call him? Takkun was Mamimi's name for me. And Takkun's name was Takkun, so why did he have my name? But for serious, it's not. My name, I mean.
My name? It's Naota. Naota Nandaba.
Takkun smirks again. He says, "I know." He shakes my hand and nods to the soap. He made it himself. Takkun makes and sells soap and to make soap, you need lye. I know this because Takkun knows this.
Takkun says, "Hello, Naota."
And he says, "It's very nice to see you again."
And he says, "I'm here to deliver you now."
At lunchtime, the person who is better than me finally shows up. Ninamori Eri catches me eating with Takkun on the lunch table. Except Takkun's already under the table when Ninamori stalks up to us. He's chowing down habanero chips and laughing his head off and I swear, those habanero chips are bell peppers on steroids.
Takkun's laughing because I'm sipping Little Prince Curry.
Ninamori crosses her arms and demands to know where I've been. She's been looking all over for me. Her hands are on her hips when she demands to know why I've skipped out on my homework. Her hand slams down on the table before she demands me to come with her to the principal's office. Her mouth stretched back into an angry scowl, her nostrils flaring, her eyes glaring holes into mine, she demands to know why I haven't been perfect like her. Then she looks at me like she's better than me.
Hello, Ninamori. And how are you today?
From under the table, Takkun laughs and almost chokes on his habanero chips. He says, "What are you, Naota, whipped? Who does this girl think she is?"
Takkun laughs. "Go on." Takkun laughs and says, "No, really. She thinks she's better than you, so tell her. You tell her she's not the boss of you."
Take a deep breath. Look at Ninamori's angry scowl. You're not the boss of me.
Takkun laughs and says, "Tell her she doesn't know what the hell she's talking about."
Look at Ninamori's flaring nostrils. You don't know what the hell you're talking about.
Takkun laughs and says, "Tell her she's just a child playing an authority figure."
Look at Ninamori's eyes glaring holes into mine. You're just a child playing an authority figure.
Takkun laughs and says, "Will you look at this poor deluded little rich girl. I mean, she thinks she can actually be an adult. Her opinion's worthless, man. She's got zero control over anything. None of her stupid silly little rules will ever apply to you."
He says, "This spoiled little rich girl. She should just go run back home to her pathetic father. Her bitch of a mother. Her 4000 square foot three-story house. She should just go to back to them and cry her fake liar crocodile tears out for them because this girl, man, she should realize the world doesn't bend to her will. If her parents don't care about her, then why should we? She should know that we don't depend on her like she depends on us to give her the time of the fucking day."
He says, "This poor deluded spoiled little rich girl. Little simpering brats like her, she should just go play over there."
I look at Ninamori, this poor deluded spoiled little rich girl, and I say this and I say this and I say this. Her scowling mouth's gone because it's a shivering frown now. Her nostrils suck back air. Her eyes don't glare holes into mine anymore, they water over and glimmer with tears.
It was across the face and I didn't feel the slap before I realize Ninamori's crying. And when I realize I made her cry, I'm already stumbling over my chair and trying to say I'm sorry. It comes out in this desperate babble and I fall over my seat.
Takkun's under the table, laughing and choking on his chips. Habanero chips. Bell peppers on steroids. I'm under the table, stumbling and choking on Ninamori's feelings. And what am I doing? Get out from under there. Tell her. I didn't mean it. I was just saying what he told me to. Listen, Ninamori, listen. Ninamori, I didn't mean it.
I'm sorry.
Ninamori's not listening. She's crying and shaking and can't see straight. She's trying to speak but her mouth shudders like a gasping fish and I don't understand what she's saying.
Takkun says, "She's just crying, dude. She's not saying anything worthwhile. This girl, will you listen to her? Cry, sob, BOO HOO HOO."
Ninamori turns and runs away from the room with her hands over her wet eyes. Shuddering and barking fresh sobs, crying and sobbing and boo hoo hoo.
Takkun says, "Good riddance" when the door slams shut.