Tales of a Con Man (Sodom/Chloe oneshot)


It was the most wonderful time of the year.

Pulling into the underbelly of the venue with his 18-wheeler, Sodom proudly showed his pass to the security guard before driving into the garage and parking his vehicle. The echoes of his truck’s horn sent a ripple through the garage that made everyone there jump in shock before he opened the door and hopped down onto the floor. He knew it was a cruel thing to do with the acoustics of the garage being what they were, but he couldn’t help but be a little bit mischievous. Events such as these made him feel young again.

“(An apple fell on my foot and I farted rainbows!)”

Using his favorite Japanese phrase to describe his feeling of elation, Sodom unfolded his paper fan and gently blew his origami butterflies into the air. For today’s occasion, he dressed in his finest samurai armor, with his twin sai sitting at his hip. For months upon months throughout the year, his brother-in-arms Rolento would ridicule and berate him at almost every turn for drowning in his so-called vices rather than focus on the development of their new utopia. He couldn’t possibly understand what this event meant to him, how Sodom held it in the same prestige as Rolento held the values of a perfect military nation.

Perhaps one day he would, but for now, Sodom had arrived to become the savior of the largest anime convention in the Western Hemisphere. The powers-that-be at Bandai and Capcom had joined forces once again to bring him BamComiCon, and Sodom had just arrived with what was sure to be the flagship event of this year’s festivities. “Lessee…judging from your license plate,” the security guard stepped away from the back of the truck and walked over to Sodom just as he put his fan back near his hip, “you’re here with the hug pillows, right?”

"Correct, aniki, "Sodom said with a smile that couldn’t be hid even with his blue samurai helmet, the brightness of his voice clearly evident. “10,000 dakimakura, equally divided in half by boys and girls! They’ve been looking forward to this con so much, that on the way here I heard them talking excitedly amongst themselves! I know that everyone here will become good friends with them!”

“…yeeeahhh, I’m sure they will,” the security nodded his head before rolling his eyes and handing Sodom his clipboard. “Anyway, sign right here and then you can open up the truck where our volunteers will take it from there.”

Sodom quickly scribbled the hiragana for his name before skipping over to the back of his trailer and unlatching the many locks that kept his cargo secure. With dramatic flair, he swung the doors open to reveal his cargo…which included one lithe young lady who pounced out of the trailer and landed gracefully on Sodom’s shoulder. The security guard jumped up in shock and put his hand on his side arm, but Sodom didn’t seem shocked at all. In fact, Sodom spun around with the woman still on his shoulder, and together they stuck out their hand in a V sign.


The two otaku drew out the letter as long as they could before the young lady hopped down and bowed her head to the security officer. “GOMEN,” she apologized before giving the guard a playful wink, “but what’s say you and I make up for it over dinner, eh?”

The security guard gave the teenage girl the once-over and decided that he didn’t want anything to do with her. It certainly wasn’t because she wasn’t attractive, as her athletic figure was shown off exceptionally in her ninja-themed cosplay with the hips of her pants cut out to give her viewers a teasing doubt if she was wearing panties or not. Indeed, she seemed to be dressed the part of the stereotypical seductive kunoichi in anime who used her curves and beauty to attract victims and fanboys alike.

But the security guard was not so shallow as to fall for someone simply because she dressed that way and tried to come off as promiscuous. By taking it upon herself to travel to the venue inside of a trailer filled with hug pillows, and then vaulting out to give a cliche peace sign, she had proven herself as just one of the many, many otakus that would be polluting his city this weekend. If the guard had his way, the event would have been cancelled or moved someplace else, because the amount of nearly-deviant weirdness made him question the direction society had gone.

On the bright side, at least it wasn’t the S&M convention that he had to work with the month prior.

As the security guard walked away to bring the volunteers over to unload the cargo, Sodom turned to Ibuki and helped her down so that she was now sitting on his shoulder rather than standing on it. “Ibuki-chan,” Sodom said playfully as they made their way to the entrance of the convention. “You look so kawaii today! My kokoro goes doki-doki when I think about how you agreed to come with me!”

“Oh, come on, Uncle Sodom! You know that I’m going to jump at a chance to meet some cool boys, and who’s cooler than all of those ikemen guests they’ve got this year,” Ibuki hummed. “Besides, if it doesn’t work out, I can just say I was roleplaying! I get to have all of the fun of a relationship with none of the guilt and baggage! Big Ws all around!”

“It must be super sugoi, to meet all of those aniki you read in your idol books,” Sodom agreed as they finally reached the elevator. Carefully kneeling down so that Ibuki could step onto the shaft, Sodom walked in and pressed the button to the main door. “As for myself, there’s going to be SHI gravure idols in attendance! They’ll be so happy when I show them the kabuki dances I made just for them! Then we can go to the karaoke bar a few blocks down and we’ll sing about samurai and ninjas and a better time!”

Both Ibuki and Sodom had dreams of meeting their idols, both figuratively and literally, and perhaps taking one of them back to their hotel room for a more intimate meeting. In that respect, they had become fast friends while living together in Rolento’s military nation, and Sodom had become something of a big brother figure to the young Ibuki. Like Sodom, Ibuki was relentlessly hounded by Rolento for her interest in idol books and DVDs, and even forbid Ibuki to spend the nation’s funding on them. To that end, Sodom would take the funds clandestinely and buy them for Ibuki as gifts, forging a friendship that was held together by their vices.

As the door closed, Sodom and Ibuki giggled to themselves in an almost supernatural connection, thinking about the wonderful time they were sure to have at BamComiCon.

The Artist’s Alley

Sodom and Ibuki agreed to go their separate ways and meet up back at their hotel, where they made a vow to take back at least one of their idols using the ancient ninja secrets of seductin and persuasion refined through the centuries of Ibuki’s clan. What Sodom didn’t realize is that Ibuki was actually quite unskilled in these secrets as she secretly became horribly embarassed when it came time to get past the first couple of steps, but ignorance was bliss. Besides, Sodom would no doubt charm his gravure goddesses with his sharp wit and honed muscles.


In fact, it seemed that as soon as Sodom walked down the escalator of the main floor and to the lower levels that consisted of the artist alley, his sharp wit and honed muscles attracted a female quicker than even he was expecting. No sooner than he stepped away from the escalator, a young woman with long blonde pigtails jumped on Sodom’s back and caused him to stumble forwards in surprise. “NANNY,” he exclaimed before reaching behind him and tossing the attacker forward. Sodom was at one time one of the most physically imposing members of the infamous Mad Gear gang, and always welcomed a challenge from any opponent.

From the looks of things, his opponent would be someone capable. Even though she had been tossed what had to have been twenty feet away, the unknown woman gracefully landed on his feet and hands…or paws, given the rather unique composition of her pink fur jacket. The woman was of a lithe build, much like Ibuki, wearing a black-and-pink strapped skirt to go along her headphones around her head.

“HIIII,” she waved both her pawed hands at Sodom before winking at him. “You’ve been glomped! Now you have to glomp five people back in the next five minutes or you’ll be cursed by watching Naruto…DUBBED. FOREVER.”

“FOREVER!? I-YAAAAAH!” Sodom cried before rapidly turning his head from left to right, looking for new targets. “I accept your challenge, stranger! ITSA GLOMP DA ZE!”

With a panicked shrill, Sodom rushed towards the nearest convention patron and wrapped them in a crushing embrace. Once again, Sodom was far stronger than the average human being, his body being a mass of chiseled muscles made functionalized for martial arts through many years of training and stretching. Even something as outwards harmless as a glomp could, and did, cause great pain and damage to whoever was unlucky enough to be caught in his grip.


With a powerful squeeze, Sodom gave the unlucky patron a hug, lifting him into the air as he would crush his enemies in the ring back when he was a professional wrestler. Although the squeeze was only a couple of seconds long, the victim let out a gasp for air as he was let go and dropped to the ground so that Sodom could find more people to spread the glomping to. To Sodom’s dismay, he was only able to glomp the one pour soul, as any other prospects quickly scattered about the artist’s alley in fear of getting crushed.

“(My breasts have been lacerated with orange peels),” he cried in agony before falling to his knees. “Now I am doomed to watch Naruto in the most disgusting of languages…ENGLISH! Oh, what bitter irony is this, to be cursed to watch an anime not in its native tongue…to listen to it being butchered by the vile Western influence!” Tears welled up in his eyes, streaming down his mask as his sniffled. “What shame…how can I return home with this mark of defeat?”


“AAAAGH,” Sodom screamed in abject terror as the unknown woman pounced upon him again. “Haven’t you done enough!? Leave me, you are victorious! The defeated must be left alone…forever alone…”


The stranger playfully nibbled on one of the hooks of Sodom’s helmet, vocalizing the act accordingly. After a few more noms, Sodom realized that she was trying to be friendly, and reached over to ruffle her hair. “Gomen nasai, strange neko woman,” Sodom said quietly as he stood up, with the stranger still wrapped around his back. “I…have shamed my ancestors with this defeat. The code of the samurai says that any challenge failed must be met with a severe penalty.”

“…let’s go commission something kawaii,” she suggested cheerfully.

Sodom nodded his head in agreement and walked over to one of the artist tables with the cat lady in tow. He had come down to the artist’s alley for that very purpose, but had lost sight of it due to the excitement of her challenge. He promised himself internally that he would pass the next challenge with flying colors, but for now he had to pay the penalty of carrying her around on his back. He was hoping to commission his piece in private, but such was the way of the defeated.

Sodom gazed longingly at the artist’s portfolio for an inappropriate amount of time before the artist cleared her throat and brought him to her attention. “Do you see anything you like,” the woman said with a polite smile before pushing forward her business card. “Prints are $10, and if you want a commission, I have the prices listed here on my card.”

Sodom’s eyes lit up as he looked at the business card, which featured a chibified caricature of the artist next to the prices. “This is so kawaii,” he hummed in a sing-song voice before looking back to the artist. “And is says here that you do comic pages! That is ka-koi!”

“I have a limit of five pages per client at a time,” the artist replied. “I won’t be able to finish it this weekend, but give me your e-mail and I can send them to you as attachments when I’m done with them!”

“Of course,” Sodom nodded his head before handing the girl on his back the card. “You see, I wrote this really cool fanfic about how myself and Felicia traveled to Japan and destroyed a ninja conclave being run by the resurrected Oda Nobunaga, and then after that we sang at a karaoke bar and had sake! This will be so cool!”

“Can you condense it to five pages or less?”

“Hmmm…I think so,” Sodom nodded his head before scribbling his e-mail address down on one of the back of the cards and handing to the artist. “Here is my e-mail. I’ll forward you the commission info as soon as I can!”

“'ilovehellokittygirls…sounds good,” the artist nodded her head before shaking Sodom’s hand and turning to the cat girl still latched onto his back. “How about you, ma’am? Anything you’d like?”

“…do you do yaoi?” the stranger asked expectantly.

“I do,” the artist nodded her head before pulling out a different binder from the one that had been sitting on the table. “I keep this one hidden for obvious reasons, but since you asked, take a look at what I’ve got.”

The catgirl reached over Sodom’s shoulder to flip through the book, and her eyes lit up instantly. “This is…KAKOI,” she shrieked with enough volume that other people stopped to take notice as her rapidly flipping through the pages. “So much ecchi…beautiful, beautiful ecchi! How much more ecchi can you make this? I have a bit of a commission idea that I think you’d be perfect for!”

“That’s what I’m here for,” the artist smiled. “Just send it in the e-mail on my business card and I’ll get back to you. In the meantime, would you like any prints?”

“I’ll take twenty,” the catgirl hummed as she reached into her jacket and pulled out her wallet. “Here you go!”

Once business had concluded, Sodom reached behind his back and propped the catgirl up on his shoulder before walking around the rest of the artist’s alley. “So, what did you commission, strange neko woman? Don’t worry, a samurai judges only by their peer’s actions rather than their words!”

“Ooooh…nothing much,” the woman replied as she finished texting her e-mail to the address on the business card. Tapping Sodom on the shoulder and pointing to the artist table they had just went to, the duo turned to see the artist take out her phone and look at the text she had received, and recoil in disgust after a few seconds of browsing. When she looked up from her phone to see that Sodom and his duo were still nearby watching her, the catgirl waved playfully as if nothing was wrong. “I asked how ecchi she could make it, so I figured I’d throw in some furry action in there too…aaaand maybe a few other things.”

“…I am Sodom, the great Nippon Warrior,” Sodom formally introduced himself, realizing he had never exchanged names with his conqueror. "What shall I call you, other than “strange neko woman?’”

“Lucky Chloe, Sodom-san,” Lucky bowed her head as Sodom bowed his. “Let’s go watch some anime!”

Sodom gasped in horror before Lucky remembered the glomping game she played with him, and quickly corrected herself. “I mean, with subs! Of course I mean subs! I wouldn’t really wish dubs upon anyone!” After breathing a sigh of relief, Sodom kept Lucky propped up on his shoulder as they walked to the escalator and headed towards the viewing room.

(continued next post)


The Viewing Room

There were no shortage of anime to choose from at BamComiCon, but if Sodom and Lucky were to be seen in public together, they had to lay out some kind of guidelines as to what they would watch. Sodom deemed it would be inappropriate to watch hentai being that he left his box of tissues in his truck and didn’t feel like going back down to the garage to pick them up (as he felt it would spoil the surprise of the dakimakura shipment that had yet to be unveiled), and Lucky forbid Sodom from taking her to anything mainstream because “they’re too overrated.” With these guidelines in mind, their viewing would need to consist of something esoteric while at the same time not terribly inappropriate.

They eventually found what they were looking for in Saint Seiya, which was mainstream only in certain areas of the world but quite niche everywhere else. Since both Lucky and Sodom were of American descent, they agreed this would fit their criteria nicely. Lucky was especially pleased at their agreement, as unbeknownst to Sodom, Lucky was quite the Saint Seiya fan when it came to her pairings. Suddenly it was Lucky who regretted not having a box of tissues on her at the time.

The show was enjoyable enough until a surly fellow with a scraggly beard and fedora that clashed with his kimono tapped Sodom on the shoulder. “Hey baka, scoot over. Your costume is messing with my view.”

“Ah, gomen,” Sodom nodded his head before standing up to move over. That would have been the end of the incident if he didn’t decide to sit next to the person who told him to move over. While he wasn’t blocking the view anymore, Sodom’s bulky armor was invading the man’s personal space, with his massive elbows sitting on the man’s shoulders. “I hope this is better for you.”

“No…not really,” the man grumbled before scooting over to leave Sodom alone. “If you’re trying to be a samurai, your outfit is way off. You look like you’re wearing a baby toilet as armor.”

“Freedom of movement, nakama,” Sodom quipped before turning to the man and pointing at his armor. “This armor is made of a special material so that it provides protection while at the same time gives me the arm move I need to perform my hissatsu waza!”

The man in the fedora rolled his eyes before turning back to Saint Seiya, stroking his neckbeard thoughtfully as he watched the action unfold. It was here that Sodom realized that perhaps they had gotten off on the wrong foot, and as such he scooted a little bit closer to the man while being careful not to put his elbows in his face again. “So…are you a fan of Saint Seiya, as well?” Sodom asked quietly so as not to disturb the other patrons.

“Something like that,” the other man grumbled.

“I first heard of this show in Italy, when I had a street fight with this fortune teller. After an honorable battle, I told her that I loved anime and so she pointed me to this show which is very popular in her home country,” Sodom continued. “According to her, Saint Seiya’s popularity in Europe is equivalent to Dragon Ball in the United States, due to the difference in importing anime at the time. Imagine how different our lives would be if things were the other way around…”

“…I only watch the dubs. I think Westerners butcher any anime they get their hands on,” the man in the fedora replied with a hint of disgust.

“That’s not true. Digimon was rather faithful,” Sodom said dejectedly before paying attention to what was going on the screen. Recognizing the scene, Sodom leaned over the Lucky, who had a very expectant look on her face. “This is the yaoi scene, isn’t it? I’ve seen gifs of this on the internet…but, the words don’t match up with what’s going on the screen?”

“It was thrown in there so we could have fuel for our ships…and the fuel it’s giving me is enough to blast me off to the moon,” she cooed with delight. “It’s just ambiguous enough so that all of the shonen creeps don’t have reason to complain, and obvious enough that us shippers can have fuel for our fanfics and doujinshi. Did you know that Saint Seiya was one of the pioneers of yaoi doujin becoming a mainstream thing?”

“I didn’t,” Sodom said with astonishment. “That’s so kakoi!”

“It’s conformist bullshit, is what it is,” the fedora-wearing man pipped in loudly. “All of the shonen mangaka these days put these things in so that they can sell out to all of the yaoi shippers instead of writing what really matters! The moe crap has poisoned the anime well and the only safe haven I have now are showed that were made before 2001!”

“Whoa, back up,” Lucky shot back. “Are you suggesting that yaoi is bad for business? How dare you call yourself an otaku!”

“I am not an otaku! I am Japanese,” the man shot back, even when it was painfully clear to both Sodom and Lucky that he was about as Asian as a burrito. “I only watch meninist anime like Baki the Grappler and Akira! Crap like Free has made me ashamed to call myself Japanese, knowing that such tripe comes out of my home country! It’s why I have to wear my fedora, so that I can hide my eyes from the public!”

“…you have very blue eyes, and a very big mouth,” Sodom said softly, with his own eyes burning with anger, “I suggest you close the latter, before I close the former by having them swell shut!”

Even though the man in the fedora was not a small person, his bulbous form would have been no match for Sodom’s gargantuan frame of hardened muscles, and one wave of his fist was enough for him to tip his hat and saunter out of the room so that Sodom and Lucky could watch in peace. With a quick snort, Sodom turned back to Lucky and gently patted her on the head before finishing up the viewing of Saint Seiya a few minutes later.

“Can you believe that baka,” Sodom told Lucky before kneeling down and once again offering her his shoulder to sit on. After she accepted her seat and secured herself, Sodom carefully stood up and continued his rant. “Being Japanese is a gift that only a privileged few can truly appreciate! If the world was a little more Japanese, I would say that the world would truly be a more exciting, colorful place!”

“Here, here! He’s lucky I didn’t bop him into next week for talking trash about my yaoi pairings,” Lucky agreed. When their eyes caught the man out in the open, apparently harassing someone who was dressed as a genderbent version of Hsien-ko, a devious grin came over Lucky’s face before she whispered in Sodom’s ear. “What’s say you and I teach him a lesson on the code of bushido?”

“(Donuts can be thoughtful while my dog poops on your mailbox,)” Sodom recited before turning to Lucky and translating proudly. “That means a true Japanese warrior defends justice and protect those who cannot protect themselves!”

Carefully playing Lucky down on the ground, Sodom pulled out one of his sai and very carefully approached the rotund pretender in the kimono that dared to dishonor Lucky’s vices. Years ago, before Sodom devoted himself completely to the way of the samurai, Sodom wouldn’t have thought twice about using his blade to impale and slice whoever irked him in the slightest, which made him one of the most feared members of Metro City’s criminal underworld. If he wished it, Sodom would be sending his target to be judged in the afterlife by Enma.

But instead, Sodom crouched down, carefully aimed his sai, and thrust it upwards towards his rear end for the old-fashioned kancho prank. The pretender yelped in surprise in pain as Sodom quickly made himself scarce by vaulting over the railing and landing on the floor below, narrowly missing a couple of Dante cosplayers. With his landing and mission a success, Sodom sheathed his sai and pulled out his paper fan to begin his favorite kabuki show.

As usual, his show drew the eyes of several onlookers, and Sodom basked in their attention as he brought the show to its inevitable conclusion. “(Kamari was banned in ostrich nests due to dancing pigs, but sea weed is happy in the rain,)” Sodom uttered with thought-provoking seriousness before closing his fan and heading back up the stairs where Lucky was waiting. “Lucky-chan, come with me! I want to show you something special, before anyone else has a chance to see it!”

“Something special? KAKOI!” Lucky rapidly clapped her hands in excitement before turning to the bearded man and deciding to stir the pot one more time as Sodom propped her up on his shoulder. “By the way, everyone…THAT MAN TRIED TO TOUCH ME!”

The duo snickered as the man’s fedora flew off his head while the closest dozen people mugged him with kicks and cosplay gear.

The Registration Lobby



“Ugh, are these bakas still going on about that? They were like that when I left them an hour ago,” Chloe rolled her eyes at the gaggle of young women that had been dichotomized into two very different sides of the registration lobby, separated from the line of people waiting to be registered for the event. Sodom looked up to Chloe when she poked at his helmet and pointed him to the conflict’s direction. “There’s a big fight going on between who is Jin’s OTP is. These shipping wars pop up every now and again, but this is the first time I’ve seen them last this long. I feel like we should do something…”

“What about Xiaoyu or Nina?” Sodom suggested thoughtfully.

“NO,” Chloe slapped Sodom on the back of the helmet so hard that he buckled over and forced Chloe to slide off his armor and onto the floor. Remorseless for Sodom’s blasphemy, she scolded him harshly even as he rubbed his head in pain. “I’m not going to be associated with someone who supports such flavorless hetero pairings! Now you take that back!”

“I…I meant no offense, Lucky-chan,” Sodom nodded his head nervously before looking past his associate and towards the war. “Still, I am not one to pick sides. We should celebrate the fact that we even have a shared fandom in the first place. Imagine how badly the Urban Reign fandom must feel when comparing themselves to fandoms that have arguments about who gets paired with who…”

The bickering grew worse, and the tension became more than what Sodom could bear. Finally, he had enough, and let out a battle cry before charging between the two sides and sticking out his hands. “That’s enough, nee-san, nee-chan-tacky,” he proclaimed before turning around to the JinxHwoarang side. “Hwoarang…Lars…what difference does it make? We should be celebrating our shared interest in the Zaibatsu kingu! No doubt he ponders the same question that you feud over, every second of his life!”

“…what do you mean by that?” one of the shippers inquiried.

“He’s a very wealthy, very reclusive man,” Sodom elaborated as he turned his body so that he could face both sides. “Lars was his former commander and no doubt values him greatly, while Hwoarang was his first rival in the way of fighting. As a fellow street fighter, I know that someone you can never put out of your heart entirely…but as a soldier, I know that Lars must think about his former commander every day, wondering where he is now. What sort of man would Jin be if he did not wish to engage in carnal pleasure with them in equal amounts!”


“He wants to have smex with them both! That’s a wonderful idea!” Lucky pipped in as she came to Sodom’s aid. “How about we all go down to the artist alley and find someone to commission a doujinshi where Hwoarang, Jin, and Lars have a menage a trois! Then we can start a kickstarter fund about making it a graphic novel!”

The two sides muttered amongst themselves before nodding in agreement and walking past their invisible divide to shake hands and make their way to the artist’s alley. Satisfied with a job well done, Sodom once again propped Lucky onto his shoulder and together, they made their way to the elevator where Sodom would give Lucky a sneak peek at his contribution to BamComiCon. The security guard noted Sodom’s volunteer pass and gave him access, and allowed Lucky to follow him.

“…so who do you really ship with Jin, Sodom-san?” Lucky finally asked.

“I’d rather not say,” Sodom answered sheepishly, remembering how his new friend didn’t tolerate hetero pairings.

The Dakimakura Pit

I finally have him just where I want him.

“Yeah, I thought I recognized you,” the world-renowned visual kei model said as he and his admirer stepped off of the staircase and walked onto the main floor that was still closed off to regular guests. “You were the cute ninja girl that fought in the last Street Fighter tournament.”

Thanks to the special volunteer pass that Sodom procured for her, Ibuki had successfully made contact with her top celebrity crush, and to her good fortune, he wasn’t immediately repulsed by her. She definitely made the right choice by picking out the most provocative variation of her ninja gear for the convention, because even someone as lovely as him couldn’t help but be charmed. “I…yes, that was me,” Ibuki whispered back in what she believed to be a perfect replication of the seduction technique she read about in her clan’s texts. “Forgive me…I was not supposed to be seen. Our techniques are protected by secrecy, and I exposed myself.”

“…in more ways than one, from the looks of it,” the model looked to Ibuki’s legs. “Listen, Ibuki, I’ll be honest. There are a lot of girls upstairs that would probably like to have me in their bed, but being I do a lot of martial arts to help stay in modeling shape, I actually wouldn’t mind hanging out with you for a bit and talking about the tournaments. I don’t suppose you’d be up for dinner tonight up in my penthouse floor?”


“I…it’s just that…I do like you very much, my lord,” Ibuki said softly as she gazed into his eyes and continued working her wiles, trying her absolute best to avoid fangirling externally as much as she was internally. “But…it’s just that, I’ve been through so many men that I’ve cared about, only to have led them to their deaths. It’s a kunoichi’s fate, to fall in love with the men we target, and use that love as a weapon with fatal consequences.”

“…sounds like fun,” the man said with a smirk. “Maybe you can help me with some album ideas.”

Leaning in closer and placing her hands on his shoulders, Ibuki leaned and braced herself with a crowning achievement in her career as a hardcore visual kei book collector. “My lord…I…I…”


Ibuki’s dream situation was quickly dragged back down to reality as a familiar male voice called out to her, followed by rapid footsteps as he approached her and her target. Although he was wearing a non-descript t-shirt and nylon pants, there was no mistake the identity of her childhood friend and fellow ninja-in-training Yuta. And while they were quite close, neither of them seemed happy to see each other.

“You idiot,” Yuta growled as he saw Ibuki wrapped around this stranger. “What are you doing, wasting our clan’s secret seduction techniques on some random guy? Our master is going to have a fit!”

“YUTA,” Ibuki shot back, letting go of the model and getting right in the young man’s face. “You ruined the perfect cover! My tsundere act was a surefire win! YUTA, YOU BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA!”


The model looked on curiously as the two teenagers blasting insults at each other, to a point where it seemed like they had stopped doing it consciously and were now going on autopilot.


“Excuse me…”

“BAKA BAKA BAKA BAKA TIMES EIGHT!” Yuta finished before turning to the target of Ibuki’s wiles. “And you! You think you anyone with a vagina will just sling their panties across the room whenever you walk up to them and say hi! Well, you listen up! You keep the hell away from Ibuki or I’ll show you the OTHER secret ninja techniques my clan has to offer…and they won’t be the ones that’ll make your dates a lot of fun!”

“Hmmm…what do you think, Sodom-san?”

Yuta turned around to see Sodom and an unknown blonde woman sitting atop his shoulder, and in a move that would later bring serious question to his judgment, pleaded to the otaku for some kind of reasoning. “Master Sodom, tell Ibuki that she can’t be using our secret techniques outside of mission parameters! Master Rolento would throw a fit…and probably a few of those knives after he ties us to the targeting range!”

“…Yuta-san,” Sodom said calmly, placing his giant hand on Yuta’s shoulder. “Have you ever considered work as a visual kei idol?”

“…excuse me?”

“Hai, hai, that’s a great idea,” Lucky clapped her hands before turning to the other man. “You and Faido here could make a yaoi book together! That would be so hot…two certified bishies going at it hard…and getting hard too!”

“…that would be so sweet,” Ibuki added, shifting her head from Faido to Yuta and back again. “I would ship the hell out of that. Maybe after they get warmed up, I could jump in and get that menage a trois I always wanted.”


“…I don’t know, man, you actually don’t look too bad,” Faido added thoughtfully as he inspected Yuta carefully. “It’s not so bad, the life of a model. You get to swim in estrogen wherever you go, you have millions and millions of girls get wet watching you do something as simple as going to the store to buy some groceries. Sure, you have to trade in your dignity every so often, but it’ll pay the bills and give you a nice little buffer in retirement funds when your youthful good looks go-”

“NOT HELPING,” Yuta interrupted. “I don’t know what kind of sick things they teach you modeling types, but the way of the ninja is the way of secrecy, which means NOT PARADING AROUND YOUR BODY OUTSIDE OF OFFICIAL MISSIONS!”

“…look, man, if you want me to stay away from your girlfriend, you just had to say so. You don’t have to yell at me,” Faido turned away from Yuta and waved goodbye as he walked off. “The mood’s ruined now. If you want to get that modeling shoot, you know where to find me…”

“Oh my God…she is NOT my girlfriend,” Yuta angrily ran his fingers through his dark hair in absolute frustration before turning back to Ibuki. “YOU! Don’t go messing with people if you don’t have to! You’re lucky that the master was willing to let you come here in the first place! If you mess this up, he’ll make sure you won’t ever have a social life!”

“…man, I never realized how much of a bishie you were until it was pointed out,” Ibuki stroked her chin as she looked at Yuta’s sweating form from top to bottom. “Maybe if-”

“I’m bored,” Lucky finally chimed in, loud enough for Yuta and Ibuki to hear before turning to Sodom. “What did you want to show me, Sodom-sempai?”

Leaving the question hanging in the air for dramatic effect, Sodom turned to one of the electronic panels on the nearby wall and flipped a switch, activating a massive trap door that slowly slid open to reveal the fruits of his labor. “Behold, the dakimakura pit that will be opening tomorrow morning,” Sodom said proudly as oodles and oodles of hug pillows revealed themselves, standing in a massive pool waiting to be waded through. “Have fun, Lucky-chan!”

“Oh…my…KAMI,” Lucky exclaimed before quickly hopping off Sodom’s shoulder and rushing towards the pool. With an athletic mid-air pirouette, Lucky splashed into the mosh of dakimakura and surfed across them with a backstroke. “There’s Hwoarang and Nero, Lee and Kyosuke, Kilik and Remy…SO…MANY…BISHIES! It’s perfect, perfect, perfect!”

Sodom watched Lucky wade through the hug pillows and smiled beneath the confines of his samurai mask. Lucky embodied what he loved most about these conventions, which was meeting those who shared his passion for anime and Japanese culture. For every ten pretenders, there was one such as Lucky or himself who legitimately cared about their craft and sought to emulate it through their lives and lifestyles. If he was able to bring that joy to a convention as large as this one, Sodom had truly followed his samurai code of bringing joy and laughter to his friends with the same vigor that he brought pain and misfortune to his enemies.

That, everyone would be too busy wading in the dakimakura pit to take up space in the lines where he could meet his gravure idols and seduce them with his tales of adventure and pursuit of the Japanese way. Although, he had to admit, that pool was extremely tempting, and he put a lot of effort into collecting the cargo for this event. What good was his exclusive volunteer pass if he didn’t have a chance to exploit it?

“…care to join us?” Sodom turned expectantly towards Yuta and Ibuki as he took off his samurai armor to strip down to his fudoshi (though he was careful to leave his helmet on). “It’s an exclusive privilege!”

“…Sodom, you’re a grown-ass man. You should really show more willpower and-”

“LET’S ROCK,” Ibuki exclaimed as she vaulted into the pit. “Come on, Uncle Sodom!”

“(Bananas rot through computer chips and beg me!)” Sodom exclaimed happily as he too jumped in. “BANZAI!”


What did I just read?


I don’t know how out of all of the ideas swimming in my head, THIS one was the one that surfaced. I guess watching Lucky Chloe’s reveal video set to Filthy Frank’s “Weeaboo” song was what put it over the edge. Oh, and a lot of these nameless characters may or may not have been based on people I’ve met in my travels >_>

Still, it felt good to write some SF again. I must have been in the zone because I went to my Udon books to remember the name of Ibuki’s sparring partner from her 3rd Strike intro.


I’ve got to say, I never realized that Sodom and Ibuki might become pals by means of Rolento. I started reading the story thinking “Do these two even know each other?”. The Mad Gear gang surely attracts a bunch of unlikely folks.