03-04-2021, 08:53 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-04-2021, 09:02 PM by Jiggly_333.)
I still remember the visions I had.
Not visions. Memories.
A warm smile. A gentle pat on the head. The fire.
They found me in the ashes, having cried myself to sleep. It was a miracle. I’d survived. But it was a curse. I was still alive. And they weren’t.
I only spent four years with the other kids. The nuns did their best, but those girls always found a way around. The boys were relentless.
So I ran.
The forest was old. I wasn’t. And after a couple days I became lost. It was summer, but the nights were still cold.
One morning, I saw a deer. I hadn’t eaten. I didn’t know if I had the power to take down a deer, I didn’t even have anything that I could use as a weapon to take it down, much less the knowledge to know how to cook it. But I knew that I had to do something. So I followed it. Maybe it knew where food was at least. And it led me to the house.
I noticed the clearing. Then I heard a river nearby. Next to the river was a large wooden structure. It looked to be built in two buildings. On the one closer to the river was a wheel attached, spinning in the water. This smaller building was connected to a two-story house. I couldn’t tell you how big it was exactly, but to me it was massive.
The deer was long gone as I looked up at this strange monument in an abandoned forest. Maybe if I had shown up just moments later, things would’ve ended differently. I was hungry. I didn’t care about staying safe. From my spot in the bushes, I ran full speed into the door. With all of the power in my small frame and the momentum of my movement, the door snapped open. Maybe it just wasn’t locked, but I had made it in.
I took in my surroundings. It was just a normal house. There was a kitchen. A table. A fridge? Why it was here didn’t matter, all I knew is that there would be food in there. So I scrambled over to open it and the first thing I could grab was a bag of shredded cheese. I ripped it open and began pouring it into my mouth. I only had a few moments to savor my first real meal in a week. About halfway through the bag, I felt a crack on the back of my head and my senses left me.
When I woke up, I was sitting at the table in the kitchen that I had been in. I was tied to a chair with a pillow behind my head. I could feel an icepack between my head and the pillow.
Why am I still alive?
I looked around myself. In front of me, I saw the rest of the kitchen. The fridge I had just been in. I couldn’t turn my head to see what happened to the door I broke into, but to my right I saw a living room. There were no electrical lines nearby. So why was there a TV here?
It wasn’t long that I heard someone coming down the stairs next to the living room. I looked and saw an old foreign man. I’ve heard that Americans and Europeans were tall, but he looked the same height as most of the older boys I knew. He had a patchy beard, a flannel shirt, and sweatpants.
“Oh, you’re up,” he grumbled as he shuffled over to the other side of the table from me.
The old man sat down with a grunt. I stared straight at him, but he refused to meet my gaze. He stared out the window as he spoke.
“Why are you here, boy?”
I stared at him.
“How did you get here?
I remained silent.
“Where are your parents?”
I wouldn’t let tears form.
“What is your name, boy?”
He was angrier this time, but I would not let him hear my voice.
The old man stood up, walked to the fridge, and pulled out an apple. He washed it in the sink, walked over to where I was sitting, and held it up to my face.
“I can tell that you were lost and hungry. Just eat and answer my questions. I’ll help you get back home.”
I stared him down, but I knew that I needed to eat. I took a large bite of the apple. As soon as I began to chew, he put the apple on the table, then went behind me to untie my hands. My legs and torso remained fastened to the chair, but I was free to grab the apple for myself. So I did.
The old man made his way back to the chair he had been in and started again, this time facing me.
“Let’s try this again. Where are your parents?”
“Gone,” I pushed out from my mouth as I continued devouring the apple. The old man looks down.
“Then where are you supposed to be?”
“Nowhere.”
“Everybody belongs somewhere. Where did you come from?”
I looked down at the apple core in my hand. The old man took my silence as an answer in itself.
“Do you not want to go back?”
I shook my head. The old man leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. After a couple minutes of complete silence, he stood back up and spoke.
“I have a room and a bed upstairs that’s been empty since I had the place built. If you’re willing to help around the house, then you can stay as long as you like. If you would rather return to where you came from, I can lead you back to the town and drop you off at the police station where they can get you where you need to go. I’m not gonna leave you out in the wilderness on your own.”
I weighed my options.
Back in town, I had no one. Not a single friend. And if I returned, it would be worse. I’d be seen as the kid who ran away and got caught. I’d be a coward. I’d be a failure. I chose to run. And I will live with my decision to run. And I will keep running. But for now.
“I’ll stay.”
The old man acknowledged my answer, then came over to where I was tied up and began letting me loose.
“Alright. Make sure you keep that ice pack on your head and don’t get up too fast. You’ll have plenty of time tomorrow to learn what you’re going to be doing. For now, rest up. I’ll make you some dinner.”
And he did. So I stayed.
As he began to work on dinner, I wandered around the house, familiarizing myself with my new environment.
The door was still busted. I bet he’ll have me help fix it tomorrow. But the living room looked like a normal living room, with a television, a video game system, and a couch. As I walked in further, I noticed the massive bookcase of manga. I didn’t read manga when I was with the nuns. I tried reading one of the ones they had and just never got interested in it. But here was a mountain of manga.
I made my way up the stairs. To find the second floor. There was a hallway with three open doors. In one room, I could see a messy bed, a dresser, and another bookshelf of manga. This must be his room, seeing as the bed’s in use. The next room had a desk with a computer, a guitar, a microphone, and yet again, more shelves and shelves of manga. There wasn’t a bed, so this wasn’t my room. The next one did have a bed. And only a bed. It was the only room in the entire house I didn’t see a bookshelf. There was a bed and a nightstand next to it. The only decoration in the room was a football on the nightstand. Strange.
“BOY!” I heard him call, “FOOD IS READY!”
I made my way back downstairs to see that he had laid out two plates of karage and rice.
“This is the only Japanese food I’m really good at making. Thought I might try to do something to make you feel a little more comfortable in here, I guess.”
I sat down on the same chair that only a half hour ago I’d been tied up in. I picked up the chicken with my hands and started eating. He sat and watched me.
“So, do you have any questions for me, boy?”
“That’s not my name,” I mumbled.
“What was that?”
“I said my name isn’t ‘Boy!’”
“Then what is it?”
I took a moment. I couldn’t remember what my family name had been. But I knew the name my parents had given me.
“My name is Mai.”
The old man considered my name, took a bite of his food, and responded.
“Well I’m John. But you can call me whatever feels comfortable for you.”
I continued to eat in silence.
“You’ll have to wear those same clothes tomorrow, but I’ll go in to town tomorrow to get you a few changes. Do you have a preference?”
I shook my head.
“Alright, that makes it easier.”
The next day, the old man gave me my first task. He told me that we could fix the door later in the day. For now, I was to work on setting up a stone path from the back door of the house to the bathhouse about 30 yards away. He said that he’d been working on it yesterday when I’d made my way into the house. I’d scared him when he came back in and that’s when he knocked me out.
It wasn’t difficult work, just tedious. And in the afternoon, the old man returned. What he brought with him was just a bunch of athletic wear. I’d arrived in a plain white t-shirt and some shorts, so I guess that’s what he thought my style was. Not that it mattered, I didn’t have a style anyway. He also got me underwear. Six pairs of boxers.
“You got it wrong,” I said as I looked down at the clothes laying on my bed.
“I got what wrong?” he replied from the other room.
“I’m not a boy. I’m a girl.”
A pause from the other room.
“Well do they fit?”
“Yeah?”
“Then you’re fine, son.”
A few minutes later as I was putting everything away into the dresser, he came into my room.
“If you’re worried about your chest, just use these.”
The old man tossed a few rolls of bandages into my room.
And so that’s how I lived. Every morning I’d wake up, receive my task from the old man, then work on it for the rest of the day. Sometimes I cleaned, sometimes I did yard work or maintenance. Some days he wouldn’t give me a task and I’d spend the day wandering the forest.
I didn’t know much about the old man. He’d told me his name was John and he was from America. Everything else, I’d just inferred from what he did. He was a writer of some sort. Judging by the books he kept around him, he must’ve been involved with manga. He didn’t build this house himself, he’d contracted for it. The house gets its electricity from the multiple water wheels connected to the river and the solar panels on the roof. Obviously this isn’t enough so he does have a couple of generators in the cellar in case of emergencies. Also in the cellar appears to be kegs, but I’m still uncertain of that.
There’s still so much mystery to this old man. Why is he letting me stay here? And if he lived alone, why did he build the room that I now live in? And the football. I decided not to move it, so it remained where I found it on the nightstand.
But I never asked him about any of it.
I didn’t know how long I would stay here when I arrived. I said that I’d give it a day. Then I’d give it a week. Till the end of the month. Another two months. A year. Another year. I’d hit a growth spurt. I was taller than the old man now. And the bandages around my chest grew tighter.
Despite this, the old man continued to call me “Boy” or “Son.” It wasn’t out of ignorance. He allowed me privacy in the bath and every month he’d make sure I had what I needed. But at the same time, he still only bought boys’ clothes and had me keep my hair short, telling me that the clothes were cheaper and long hair would get in the way.
It wasn’t always work, the old man provided an education of some sort. He taught me English and math and whatever he couldn’t teach me himself, he’d always find some documentary for me to watch and learn. And just like I never pressed him about his life before coming here, he never pressed me on my own life at any point after that first day.
As time went on, the nightmares went away. I found myself comfortable with the old man’s routine and it seemed he became comfortable with my presence. He’d go into town two or three times a week while I never left. And when he’d come back, he would have more manga. At first I didn’t like manga, but what he had was always so different from what I had read when I was younger.
One day, we had a visitor.
I had asked the old man if we could line the sides of the stone path to the bathhouse with flowers. It was just so plain back there and there should at least be something. He agreed, so that day I was out in the back digging the holes for the flowers to go into. That’s when a car arrived. And out of the car stepped a young woman. Was this the old man’s daughter?
I stayed hidden as she greeted the old man at the door in English.
“Hey Uncle John,” she said somberly.
“Rosie. I see that you made it. So why are you here?”
“Have you been following everything?”
“Of course, come here,” the old man opened his arms for his niece who I hadn’t heard about at all for the last 8 years of living here.
The two went inside and so I went back to work. It was before noon when she arrived, but it was now almost sunset when the two of them finally emerged. I had finished the planting long ago already, but I didn’t want to interrupt them, so I waited down at the river. When I saw them leaving, I stood up and began to make my way back over to the house. She was just getting back into her car when the woman noticed me.
“Oh! Who’s this?”
The old man spoke before I could.
“He’s my son.”
“Oh, I didn’t know. Hey kid, what’s your name?”
Before he could cut me off again, I told her my name.
“Mai.”
The old man looked at me with a slight bit of anger in his eyes, knowing I’d contradicted him, but the woman didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were still a bit puffy and the smile she had looked forced.
“Well, Mike. I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you today. Maybe some other time. Thank you again, Uncle John.”
The woman got into her car, turned it around, and left the way she came. I turned back to the old man as he was beginning to speak to me.
“Why didn’t you just-”
“Who was that woman?!” I questioned him.
The old man took a breath, then after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.
“It’s getting dark, let’s talk about this inside.”
I re-entered the door I had once broken down and sat in the chair that I had once been tied to. The old man went to the fridge, pulled out a beer, and began to drink.
“So who was that woman. She’s your niece? Why didn’t you tell me who she was or even that she was coming?”
The old man took another drink.
“I didn’t tell you about my family because I didn’t think it was necessary. What’s the point of telling you about my life? You never took an interest before and in turn I never asked you about your own life. About why you were wandering the woods alone.”
I stared down at the table. He was right. I’ve still never said anything about myself to him.
“My name is Mai. I am 17 years old. I do not remember my family name. I have no family. They died when our house caught on fire. I was there too, but I survived. I was 4. I was put in an orphanage run by a mission. I did not get along with the other kids. I had no friends. So one day when I thought I was big enough to live on my own, I ran away. But I wasn’t ready. I got lost in the woods. I followed a deer. And that’s how I found this house.”
I stared him down, the same way I stared him down all those years ago. I’d finally answered his questions.
“Well, I guess it’s only fair.”
He finished his can and looked back at me.
“I am John Carollo. I am a writer. That woman was Rose Jenkins. She’s not my niece, but I knew her father Leroy very well. I knew her mother Dakota very well. I know her wife, Dottie. I know her cousin Tegan. I know-knew her dad’s friend Alex. All of these people… well, they’re athletes. I’ve given them a home at some point or another. I’ve helped them at times; given them direction when they needed it, offered advice, and tried to help them reach their dreams.”
“They’re athletes?”
“Yes. They play different sports. Rose happened to play football just like her father. Her mother played hockey. And her wife plays baseball. But they trust me. They listen to me. And so I do my best to help, even if my advice doesn’t pan out.”
Tears began to form in his eyes as he sighed.
“They’ve all worked so hard. Sacrificed so much. And in the end, I can never do anything to actually help them. This is my family. They’re the people who I’ve chosen to be my family. They’re the ones I hold closest to me.”
The old man was fully crying at this point, slumped over in his chair.
“Rosie had just come by today to inform me that Alex, Alexandra Jones. Her dad’s friend. Well, she wasn’t an athlete like the rest of them, she was mostly in management.” He chuckled. “She wasn’t even really good at that either, but I knew that she always had the best intentions. This morning, she was-”
The old man’s face, normally so stoic, was flooded with tears.
“She was found dead. In her apartment. She’d been under so much stress recently and I knew she didn’t take care of herself that well. It was a heart attack. There was no one there to help her. I wasn’t there to help her.”
The old man continued to cry. I didn’t know how to react. How do you react to something like this? I’d just never learned how. So we just sat there. Me, staring at the table. Him, crying his eyes out. At some point, when he’d finished, he got up, told me there were leftovers in the fridge, and he went up to his room.
I went to my own room and looked at the football. This room had been a haven for athletes before. It was home to those who the old man saw as his children. And he trusted me to live here. I began to think about the old man’s tears, about his story. About those who he placed his trust. Those he had placed his hopes into. He believed in every single one of them. And now he believed in me.
The next morning, I spoke to him first.
“I’m going to play football.”
“What?” the old man asked, looking confused.
“Those who you help. They become athletes, right?” I pressed on. “So that’s what I’ll do.”
“No, stop. What do you think you’re saying? You think this is what I want?”
I stopped. I didn’t really know what I was saying anymore. I just knew this was what I needed to do now.
“I started this house years ago. Back in Chicago. It was just Leroy and Dakota then, still figuring out what they wanted to do. And eventually, I moved out here. I always lived on my own, letting you kids do whatever you wanted. They would show up here, without a direction. And I would help them find their own way into the world. I’d offer them my own loves, my own interests, my own knowledge. They weren’t just like my children, they had become pieces of myself.
Before you arrived, I believed that I had mentored my last kid. I had fulfilled my purpose. Maybe none of my kids had been award-winners, none of them had been stars in their sport; but I gave them good lives. And I knew that my time would be up soon. I wanted to work on myself finally. And then there was you. Some wild kid rummaging through my fridge. I gave you every opportunity to leave. I didn’t want to push you down the path of sports because I knew that this time, I knew that if I sent another one of my kids, they wouldn’t last. That they’d get their heart broken.
So when I tell you that I never wanted you to be like the others, please believe me. You can do anything else.”
I believed him, but I knew that I couldn’t stay here. Something wouldn’t let me. Like I was meant to leave someday. And the day had come.
“No, John. I need to do this. They won’t break me. I won’t let them. I’ll break them instead.”
It was the first time I had said his name. He resigned himself, stood up, and walked back to his room. When the old man came back, he had an envelope.
“In here is your ferry ticket back to the main island, a train ticket to Tokyo, and a plane ticket to O’Hare Airport. There’s also directions to the league’s headquarters and enough money for you to survive until you get drafted.”
I silently took the envelope.
“But there’s a rule. You can’t come back to the house. No exceptions. Not until you retire. Then, you can tell me all about your career.”
“But, how will I get advice like the others?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”
His smile was so weak. So, I did what I saw the woman do. I gave him a hug. Then, I walked out the door and into the forest for the first time since I was a child.
-------------------------
I stood at the house, much sooner than expected.
He was right. I couldn’t take it. I’d failed him. This was never the right place for me. All the posturing, all the harsh rhetoric. All it did was hurt me. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to last any longer.
I stood at the door, unsure if I could even open it. When I was smaller, I somehow tore the door off its hinges, but now it feels like I couldn’t move it an inch. But I didn’t have to open it.
The old man opened the door. He looked younger than when I saw him last. He looked like he was my age now. But there he was. Flannel and sweatpants and patchy beard. As soon as he saw me, he froze.
“Old Man, I’m sor-”
It was no use. He hugged me before I could apologize. I said I’d be the one to bring him home something to be proud of, but I left empty-handed. But here was the old man, crying into my chest. I started to cry too. For the first time since I’d left the orphanage, I cried.
“I couldn’t make you proud of me. I’m so sorry.”
“No,” he sobbed into me, “I’m so proud of you. You did all you could. And you did amazing.”
He pulled back and beamed a big smile at me.
“Come in. I want to hear everything.”
And I stepped back into the house.
You guys are right. I can’t stay here any more. But I felt like I couldn’t just leave this without a proper story, without a proper ending. So, I spent the day writing this (I’m so far behind on everything else now). I don’t think I need to say “thank you” to anyone. Those who I care about already know how much I care about them. I think the people I really needed to say goodbye to were my players. To tell you guys the truth, I don’t think I’ve legit had tears make it out of my face since I was like, 13. And I actually cried at the end of writing this. I think it means more to me than it will to you, but I wanted to make sure that I gave a proper send-off.
I’ll stick with SHL until I hit a wall, same with PBE. But I think I’m done. I’ve loved every single character that I have had the privilege to let live in my head. Dakota Reid and Dottie Morimura especially became massive parts of me and I think after this Mai is going to stick with me for a while. If you’re interested in what I’m doing or what I’ll do next, literally just ask Raven or TB since they’re the only people I talk to. I’m also still in the Butchers and Otters LR, though I got them on mute so if you want me you'll have to tag me. But this is finally goodbye. Maybe someday we’ll all meet up at “the house”. (fuck, I’m crying again)
And as always, the song I end every show with.
I’ve been Jiggly.
I hope you enjoyed the show.
EDIT: I think I'm supposed to actually say the magic words: Mai Fukushuu retires.
Not visions. Memories.
A warm smile. A gentle pat on the head. The fire.
They found me in the ashes, having cried myself to sleep. It was a miracle. I’d survived. But it was a curse. I was still alive. And they weren’t.
I only spent four years with the other kids. The nuns did their best, but those girls always found a way around. The boys were relentless.
So I ran.
The forest was old. I wasn’t. And after a couple days I became lost. It was summer, but the nights were still cold.
One morning, I saw a deer. I hadn’t eaten. I didn’t know if I had the power to take down a deer, I didn’t even have anything that I could use as a weapon to take it down, much less the knowledge to know how to cook it. But I knew that I had to do something. So I followed it. Maybe it knew where food was at least. And it led me to the house.
I noticed the clearing. Then I heard a river nearby. Next to the river was a large wooden structure. It looked to be built in two buildings. On the one closer to the river was a wheel attached, spinning in the water. This smaller building was connected to a two-story house. I couldn’t tell you how big it was exactly, but to me it was massive.
The deer was long gone as I looked up at this strange monument in an abandoned forest. Maybe if I had shown up just moments later, things would’ve ended differently. I was hungry. I didn’t care about staying safe. From my spot in the bushes, I ran full speed into the door. With all of the power in my small frame and the momentum of my movement, the door snapped open. Maybe it just wasn’t locked, but I had made it in.
I took in my surroundings. It was just a normal house. There was a kitchen. A table. A fridge? Why it was here didn’t matter, all I knew is that there would be food in there. So I scrambled over to open it and the first thing I could grab was a bag of shredded cheese. I ripped it open and began pouring it into my mouth. I only had a few moments to savor my first real meal in a week. About halfway through the bag, I felt a crack on the back of my head and my senses left me.
When I woke up, I was sitting at the table in the kitchen that I had been in. I was tied to a chair with a pillow behind my head. I could feel an icepack between my head and the pillow.
Why am I still alive?
I looked around myself. In front of me, I saw the rest of the kitchen. The fridge I had just been in. I couldn’t turn my head to see what happened to the door I broke into, but to my right I saw a living room. There were no electrical lines nearby. So why was there a TV here?
It wasn’t long that I heard someone coming down the stairs next to the living room. I looked and saw an old foreign man. I’ve heard that Americans and Europeans were tall, but he looked the same height as most of the older boys I knew. He had a patchy beard, a flannel shirt, and sweatpants.
“Oh, you’re up,” he grumbled as he shuffled over to the other side of the table from me.
The old man sat down with a grunt. I stared straight at him, but he refused to meet my gaze. He stared out the window as he spoke.
“Why are you here, boy?”
I stared at him.
“How did you get here?
I remained silent.
“Where are your parents?”
I wouldn’t let tears form.
“What is your name, boy?”
He was angrier this time, but I would not let him hear my voice.
The old man stood up, walked to the fridge, and pulled out an apple. He washed it in the sink, walked over to where I was sitting, and held it up to my face.
“I can tell that you were lost and hungry. Just eat and answer my questions. I’ll help you get back home.”
I stared him down, but I knew that I needed to eat. I took a large bite of the apple. As soon as I began to chew, he put the apple on the table, then went behind me to untie my hands. My legs and torso remained fastened to the chair, but I was free to grab the apple for myself. So I did.
The old man made his way back to the chair he had been in and started again, this time facing me.
“Let’s try this again. Where are your parents?”
“Gone,” I pushed out from my mouth as I continued devouring the apple. The old man looks down.
“Then where are you supposed to be?”
“Nowhere.”
“Everybody belongs somewhere. Where did you come from?”
I looked down at the apple core in my hand. The old man took my silence as an answer in itself.
“Do you not want to go back?”
I shook my head. The old man leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. After a couple minutes of complete silence, he stood back up and spoke.
“I have a room and a bed upstairs that’s been empty since I had the place built. If you’re willing to help around the house, then you can stay as long as you like. If you would rather return to where you came from, I can lead you back to the town and drop you off at the police station where they can get you where you need to go. I’m not gonna leave you out in the wilderness on your own.”
I weighed my options.
Back in town, I had no one. Not a single friend. And if I returned, it would be worse. I’d be seen as the kid who ran away and got caught. I’d be a coward. I’d be a failure. I chose to run. And I will live with my decision to run. And I will keep running. But for now.
“I’ll stay.”
The old man acknowledged my answer, then came over to where I was tied up and began letting me loose.
“Alright. Make sure you keep that ice pack on your head and don’t get up too fast. You’ll have plenty of time tomorrow to learn what you’re going to be doing. For now, rest up. I’ll make you some dinner.”
And he did. So I stayed.
As he began to work on dinner, I wandered around the house, familiarizing myself with my new environment.
The door was still busted. I bet he’ll have me help fix it tomorrow. But the living room looked like a normal living room, with a television, a video game system, and a couch. As I walked in further, I noticed the massive bookcase of manga. I didn’t read manga when I was with the nuns. I tried reading one of the ones they had and just never got interested in it. But here was a mountain of manga.
I made my way up the stairs. To find the second floor. There was a hallway with three open doors. In one room, I could see a messy bed, a dresser, and another bookshelf of manga. This must be his room, seeing as the bed’s in use. The next room had a desk with a computer, a guitar, a microphone, and yet again, more shelves and shelves of manga. There wasn’t a bed, so this wasn’t my room. The next one did have a bed. And only a bed. It was the only room in the entire house I didn’t see a bookshelf. There was a bed and a nightstand next to it. The only decoration in the room was a football on the nightstand. Strange.
“BOY!” I heard him call, “FOOD IS READY!”
I made my way back downstairs to see that he had laid out two plates of karage and rice.
“This is the only Japanese food I’m really good at making. Thought I might try to do something to make you feel a little more comfortable in here, I guess.”
I sat down on the same chair that only a half hour ago I’d been tied up in. I picked up the chicken with my hands and started eating. He sat and watched me.
“So, do you have any questions for me, boy?”
“That’s not my name,” I mumbled.
“What was that?”
“I said my name isn’t ‘Boy!’”
“Then what is it?”
I took a moment. I couldn’t remember what my family name had been. But I knew the name my parents had given me.
“My name is Mai.”
The old man considered my name, took a bite of his food, and responded.
“Well I’m John. But you can call me whatever feels comfortable for you.”
I continued to eat in silence.
“You’ll have to wear those same clothes tomorrow, but I’ll go in to town tomorrow to get you a few changes. Do you have a preference?”
I shook my head.
“Alright, that makes it easier.”
The next day, the old man gave me my first task. He told me that we could fix the door later in the day. For now, I was to work on setting up a stone path from the back door of the house to the bathhouse about 30 yards away. He said that he’d been working on it yesterday when I’d made my way into the house. I’d scared him when he came back in and that’s when he knocked me out.
It wasn’t difficult work, just tedious. And in the afternoon, the old man returned. What he brought with him was just a bunch of athletic wear. I’d arrived in a plain white t-shirt and some shorts, so I guess that’s what he thought my style was. Not that it mattered, I didn’t have a style anyway. He also got me underwear. Six pairs of boxers.
“You got it wrong,” I said as I looked down at the clothes laying on my bed.
“I got what wrong?” he replied from the other room.
“I’m not a boy. I’m a girl.”
A pause from the other room.
“Well do they fit?”
“Yeah?”
“Then you’re fine, son.”
A few minutes later as I was putting everything away into the dresser, he came into my room.
“If you’re worried about your chest, just use these.”
The old man tossed a few rolls of bandages into my room.
And so that’s how I lived. Every morning I’d wake up, receive my task from the old man, then work on it for the rest of the day. Sometimes I cleaned, sometimes I did yard work or maintenance. Some days he wouldn’t give me a task and I’d spend the day wandering the forest.
I didn’t know much about the old man. He’d told me his name was John and he was from America. Everything else, I’d just inferred from what he did. He was a writer of some sort. Judging by the books he kept around him, he must’ve been involved with manga. He didn’t build this house himself, he’d contracted for it. The house gets its electricity from the multiple water wheels connected to the river and the solar panels on the roof. Obviously this isn’t enough so he does have a couple of generators in the cellar in case of emergencies. Also in the cellar appears to be kegs, but I’m still uncertain of that.
There’s still so much mystery to this old man. Why is he letting me stay here? And if he lived alone, why did he build the room that I now live in? And the football. I decided not to move it, so it remained where I found it on the nightstand.
But I never asked him about any of it.
I didn’t know how long I would stay here when I arrived. I said that I’d give it a day. Then I’d give it a week. Till the end of the month. Another two months. A year. Another year. I’d hit a growth spurt. I was taller than the old man now. And the bandages around my chest grew tighter.
Despite this, the old man continued to call me “Boy” or “Son.” It wasn’t out of ignorance. He allowed me privacy in the bath and every month he’d make sure I had what I needed. But at the same time, he still only bought boys’ clothes and had me keep my hair short, telling me that the clothes were cheaper and long hair would get in the way.
It wasn’t always work, the old man provided an education of some sort. He taught me English and math and whatever he couldn’t teach me himself, he’d always find some documentary for me to watch and learn. And just like I never pressed him about his life before coming here, he never pressed me on my own life at any point after that first day.
As time went on, the nightmares went away. I found myself comfortable with the old man’s routine and it seemed he became comfortable with my presence. He’d go into town two or three times a week while I never left. And when he’d come back, he would have more manga. At first I didn’t like manga, but what he had was always so different from what I had read when I was younger.
One day, we had a visitor.
I had asked the old man if we could line the sides of the stone path to the bathhouse with flowers. It was just so plain back there and there should at least be something. He agreed, so that day I was out in the back digging the holes for the flowers to go into. That’s when a car arrived. And out of the car stepped a young woman. Was this the old man’s daughter?
I stayed hidden as she greeted the old man at the door in English.
“Hey Uncle John,” she said somberly.
“Rosie. I see that you made it. So why are you here?”
“Have you been following everything?”
“Of course, come here,” the old man opened his arms for his niece who I hadn’t heard about at all for the last 8 years of living here.
The two went inside and so I went back to work. It was before noon when she arrived, but it was now almost sunset when the two of them finally emerged. I had finished the planting long ago already, but I didn’t want to interrupt them, so I waited down at the river. When I saw them leaving, I stood up and began to make my way back over to the house. She was just getting back into her car when the woman noticed me.
“Oh! Who’s this?”
The old man spoke before I could.
“He’s my son.”
“Oh, I didn’t know. Hey kid, what’s your name?”
Before he could cut me off again, I told her my name.
“Mai.”
The old man looked at me with a slight bit of anger in his eyes, knowing I’d contradicted him, but the woman didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were still a bit puffy and the smile she had looked forced.
“Well, Mike. I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you today. Maybe some other time. Thank you again, Uncle John.”
The woman got into her car, turned it around, and left the way she came. I turned back to the old man as he was beginning to speak to me.
“Why didn’t you just-”
“Who was that woman?!” I questioned him.
The old man took a breath, then after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke.
“It’s getting dark, let’s talk about this inside.”
I re-entered the door I had once broken down and sat in the chair that I had once been tied to. The old man went to the fridge, pulled out a beer, and began to drink.
“So who was that woman. She’s your niece? Why didn’t you tell me who she was or even that she was coming?”
The old man took another drink.
“I didn’t tell you about my family because I didn’t think it was necessary. What’s the point of telling you about my life? You never took an interest before and in turn I never asked you about your own life. About why you were wandering the woods alone.”
I stared down at the table. He was right. I’ve still never said anything about myself to him.
“My name is Mai. I am 17 years old. I do not remember my family name. I have no family. They died when our house caught on fire. I was there too, but I survived. I was 4. I was put in an orphanage run by a mission. I did not get along with the other kids. I had no friends. So one day when I thought I was big enough to live on my own, I ran away. But I wasn’t ready. I got lost in the woods. I followed a deer. And that’s how I found this house.”
I stared him down, the same way I stared him down all those years ago. I’d finally answered his questions.
“Well, I guess it’s only fair.”
He finished his can and looked back at me.
“I am John Carollo. I am a writer. That woman was Rose Jenkins. She’s not my niece, but I knew her father Leroy very well. I knew her mother Dakota very well. I know her wife, Dottie. I know her cousin Tegan. I know-knew her dad’s friend Alex. All of these people… well, they’re athletes. I’ve given them a home at some point or another. I’ve helped them at times; given them direction when they needed it, offered advice, and tried to help them reach their dreams.”
“They’re athletes?”
“Yes. They play different sports. Rose happened to play football just like her father. Her mother played hockey. And her wife plays baseball. But they trust me. They listen to me. And so I do my best to help, even if my advice doesn’t pan out.”
Tears began to form in his eyes as he sighed.
“They’ve all worked so hard. Sacrificed so much. And in the end, I can never do anything to actually help them. This is my family. They’re the people who I’ve chosen to be my family. They’re the ones I hold closest to me.”
The old man was fully crying at this point, slumped over in his chair.
“Rosie had just come by today to inform me that Alex, Alexandra Jones. Her dad’s friend. Well, she wasn’t an athlete like the rest of them, she was mostly in management.” He chuckled. “She wasn’t even really good at that either, but I knew that she always had the best intentions. This morning, she was-”
The old man’s face, normally so stoic, was flooded with tears.
“She was found dead. In her apartment. She’d been under so much stress recently and I knew she didn’t take care of herself that well. It was a heart attack. There was no one there to help her. I wasn’t there to help her.”
The old man continued to cry. I didn’t know how to react. How do you react to something like this? I’d just never learned how. So we just sat there. Me, staring at the table. Him, crying his eyes out. At some point, when he’d finished, he got up, told me there were leftovers in the fridge, and he went up to his room.
I went to my own room and looked at the football. This room had been a haven for athletes before. It was home to those who the old man saw as his children. And he trusted me to live here. I began to think about the old man’s tears, about his story. About those who he placed his trust. Those he had placed his hopes into. He believed in every single one of them. And now he believed in me.
The next morning, I spoke to him first.
“I’m going to play football.”
“What?” the old man asked, looking confused.
“Those who you help. They become athletes, right?” I pressed on. “So that’s what I’ll do.”
“No, stop. What do you think you’re saying? You think this is what I want?”
I stopped. I didn’t really know what I was saying anymore. I just knew this was what I needed to do now.
“I started this house years ago. Back in Chicago. It was just Leroy and Dakota then, still figuring out what they wanted to do. And eventually, I moved out here. I always lived on my own, letting you kids do whatever you wanted. They would show up here, without a direction. And I would help them find their own way into the world. I’d offer them my own loves, my own interests, my own knowledge. They weren’t just like my children, they had become pieces of myself.
Before you arrived, I believed that I had mentored my last kid. I had fulfilled my purpose. Maybe none of my kids had been award-winners, none of them had been stars in their sport; but I gave them good lives. And I knew that my time would be up soon. I wanted to work on myself finally. And then there was you. Some wild kid rummaging through my fridge. I gave you every opportunity to leave. I didn’t want to push you down the path of sports because I knew that this time, I knew that if I sent another one of my kids, they wouldn’t last. That they’d get their heart broken.
So when I tell you that I never wanted you to be like the others, please believe me. You can do anything else.”
I believed him, but I knew that I couldn’t stay here. Something wouldn’t let me. Like I was meant to leave someday. And the day had come.
“No, John. I need to do this. They won’t break me. I won’t let them. I’ll break them instead.”
It was the first time I had said his name. He resigned himself, stood up, and walked back to his room. When the old man came back, he had an envelope.
“In here is your ferry ticket back to the main island, a train ticket to Tokyo, and a plane ticket to O’Hare Airport. There’s also directions to the league’s headquarters and enough money for you to survive until you get drafted.”
I silently took the envelope.
“But there’s a rule. You can’t come back to the house. No exceptions. Not until you retire. Then, you can tell me all about your career.”
“But, how will I get advice like the others?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”
His smile was so weak. So, I did what I saw the woman do. I gave him a hug. Then, I walked out the door and into the forest for the first time since I was a child.
-------------------------
I stood at the house, much sooner than expected.
He was right. I couldn’t take it. I’d failed him. This was never the right place for me. All the posturing, all the harsh rhetoric. All it did was hurt me. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to last any longer.
I stood at the door, unsure if I could even open it. When I was smaller, I somehow tore the door off its hinges, but now it feels like I couldn’t move it an inch. But I didn’t have to open it.
The old man opened the door. He looked younger than when I saw him last. He looked like he was my age now. But there he was. Flannel and sweatpants and patchy beard. As soon as he saw me, he froze.
“Old Man, I’m sor-”
It was no use. He hugged me before I could apologize. I said I’d be the one to bring him home something to be proud of, but I left empty-handed. But here was the old man, crying into my chest. I started to cry too. For the first time since I’d left the orphanage, I cried.
“I couldn’t make you proud of me. I’m so sorry.”
“No,” he sobbed into me, “I’m so proud of you. You did all you could. And you did amazing.”
He pulled back and beamed a big smile at me.
“Come in. I want to hear everything.”
And I stepped back into the house.
You guys are right. I can’t stay here any more. But I felt like I couldn’t just leave this without a proper story, without a proper ending. So, I spent the day writing this (I’m so far behind on everything else now). I don’t think I need to say “thank you” to anyone. Those who I care about already know how much I care about them. I think the people I really needed to say goodbye to were my players. To tell you guys the truth, I don’t think I’ve legit had tears make it out of my face since I was like, 13. And I actually cried at the end of writing this. I think it means more to me than it will to you, but I wanted to make sure that I gave a proper send-off.
I’ll stick with SHL until I hit a wall, same with PBE. But I think I’m done. I’ve loved every single character that I have had the privilege to let live in my head. Dakota Reid and Dottie Morimura especially became massive parts of me and I think after this Mai is going to stick with me for a while. If you’re interested in what I’m doing or what I’ll do next, literally just ask Raven or TB since they’re the only people I talk to. I’m also still in the Butchers and Otters LR, though I got them on mute so if you want me you'll have to tag me. But this is finally goodbye. Maybe someday we’ll all meet up at “the house”. (fuck, I’m crying again)
And as always, the song I end every show with.
I’ve been Jiggly.
I hope you enjoyed the show.
EDIT: I think I'm supposed to actually say the magic words: Mai Fukushuu retires.
[OPTION]S32: CAR: 0 \ RUS: 0 \ RUT: 0 \ CAT: 35 \ REC: 582 \ RET: 3
[OPTION]S33: CAR: 395 \ RUS: 1756 \ RUT: 21 \ CAT: 14 \ REC: 124 \ RET: 1
[OPTION]S34: CAR: 196 \ RUS: 831 \ RUT: 6 \ CAT: 35 \ REC: 582 \ RET: 3
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]DSFL Playoff Stats
[OPTION]S31: DNQ
[OPTION]DSFL Playoff Stats
[OPTION]S31: DNQ
[OPTION]S32: CAR: 0 \ RUS: 0 \ RUT: 0 \ CAT: 7 \ REC: 67 \ RET: 0
[OPTION]S33: CAR: 47 \ RUS: 147 \ RUT: 0 \ CAT: 2 \ REC: 7 \ RET: 0
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]NSFL Regular Season Stats
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]NSFL Playoff Stats
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]Trophy Case/Achievements:
[OPTION]S33: CAR: 47 \ RUS: 147 \ RUT: 0 \ CAT: 2 \ REC: 7 \ RET: 0
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]NSFL Regular Season Stats
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]NSFL Playoff Stats
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]Trophy Case/Achievements:
[OPTION]S33 DSFL RBOTY
[OPTION]S33 DSFL MVP
[OPTION]Height: 6'2"
[OPTION]Weight: 195 lbs
[OPTION]Birthplace: Yakushima, Japan
[OPTION]Number: 23
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]DSFL Regular Season Stats
[OPTION]S22: CAR: 0 \ RUS: 0 \ RUT: 0 \ CAT: 0 \ REC: 0 \ RET: 0 \ KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S23: CAR: 23 \ RUS: 89 \ RUT: 2 \ CAT: 14 \ REC: 112 \ RET: 0 \ KR: 569 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]DSFL Playoff Stats
[OPTION]S22: CAR: 0 \ RUS: 0 \ RUT: 0 \ CAT: 0 \ REC: 0 \ RET: 0 \ KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S23: DNQ
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]NSFL Regular Season Stats
[OPTION]S24: CAR: 192 \ RUS: 744 \ RUT: 6 \ CAT: 7 \ REC: 59 \ RET: 0 \ KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S25: CAR: 232 \ RUS: 860 \ RUT: 4 \ CAT: 19 \ REC: 140 \ RET: 2 \ KR: 977 \ PR: 44 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S26: CAR: 54 \ RUS: 213 \ RUT: 3 \ CAT: 72 \ REC: 818 \ RET: 8 \ KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S27: CAR: 179 \ RUS: 633 \ RUT: 4 \ CAT: 38 \ REC: 329 \ RET: 2 \ KR: 100 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]NSFL Playoff Stats
[OPTION]S24: DNQ
[OPTION]S25: DNQ
[OPTION]S26: DNQ
[OPTION]S27: DNQ
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]Trophy Case/Achievements:
[OPTION]Height: 6'1"
[OPTION]Weight: 180 lbs
[OPTION]Birthplace: Chicago, IL
[OPTION]Number: 13
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]DSFL Regular Season Stats
[OPTION]S13: Comp: 213 // Yards: 2306 // Comp%: 55 // TD: 10 // INT: 14 // Rating: 66.3
[OPTION]S14: Comp: 231 // Yards: 2100 // Comp%: 58.5 // TD: 11 // INT: 10 // Rating: 71.7
[OPTION]S15: Comp: 180 // Yards: 1595 // Comp%: 54.9 // TD: 7 // INT: 14 // Rating: 57.4
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]DSFL Playoff Stats
[OPTION]S13: Comp: 45 // Yards: 485 // Comp%: 57.7% // TD: 3 // INT: 2
[OPTION]S14: DNQ
[OPTION]S15: Comp: 11 // Yards: 130 // Comp%: 55% // TD: 1 // INT: 1
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]NSFL Regular Season Stats
[OPTION]S16: Comp: 216 // Yards: 3106 // Comp%: 55.7% // TD: 18 // INT: 7 // Rating: 89.8
[OPTION]S17: Comp: 202 // Yards: 2267 // Comp%: 62.2% // TD: 18 // INT: 8 // Rating: 94
[OPTION]S18: Comp: 302 // Yards: 3652 // Comp%: 57% // TD: 18 // INT: 16 // Rating: 77
[OPTION]S19: Comp: 326 // Yards: 3716 // Comp%: 56.4% // TD: 11 // INT: 15 // Rating: 71.4
[OPTION]S20: Comp: 347 // Yards: 4275 // Comp%: 56.5% // TD: 28 // INT: 12 // Rating: 85.2
[OPTION]S21: Comp: 267 // Yards: 3242 // Comp%: 57.5% // TD: 24 // INT: 8 // Rating: 89.2
[OPTION]S22: Comp: 236 // Yards: 2864 // Comp%: 53% // TD: 8 // INT: 11 // Rating: 68.8
[OPTION]Career: Comp: 1896 // Yards: 23,122 // Comp%: 56.9% // TD: 125 // INT: 77
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]NSFL Playoff Stats
[OPTION]S16: Comp: 21 // Yards: 231 // Comp%: 65.6% // TD: 3 // INT: 3 // Rating: 79
[OPTION]S17: Comp: 18 // Yards: 186 // Comp%: 48.6% // TD: 0 // INT: 1 // Rating: 52.3
[OPTION]S18: DNQ
[OPTION]S19: DNQ
[OPTION]S20: DNQ
[OPTION]S21: DNQ
[OPTION]S22: Comp: 16 // Yards: 184 // Comp%: 57.1% // TD: 1 // INT: 1 // Rating: 74.1
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]Trophy Case/Achievements:
[OPTION]
[OPTION]Height: 5'9"
[OPTION]Weight: 185 lbs
[OPTION]Birthplace: Brookfield, IL
[OPTION]Number: 23
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]DSFL Regular Season Stats
[OPTION]S4: Tackles: 50 \ PDs: 15 \ INTs: 4 \ DTDs: 1 \ KR: 493 \ PR: 418 \ RetTD: 1
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]DSFL Playoff Stats
[OPTION]S4: DNQ
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]NSFL Regular Season Stats
[OPTION]S5: Tackles: 60 \ Sacks: 2 \ PDs: 4 \ INTs: 1 \ DTDs: 0 \ KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S6: Tackles: 50 \ Sacks: 6 \ PDs: 5 \ INTs: 0 \ DTDs: 0 \ KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S7: Tackles: 92 \ Sacks: 0 \ PDs: 4 \ INTs: 2 \ DTDs: 0 \ Catches: 16 \ RecY: 171 \ RecTD: 3
[OPTION]S8: Catches: 71 \ RecY: 1239 \ RecTD: 6 \ YPC: 17.5 // KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S9: Catches: 70 \ RecY: 1168 \ RecTD: 3 \ YPC: 17.0 // KR: 711 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S10: Catches: 68 \ RecY: 1348 \ RecTD: 9 \ YPC: 19.8 // KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S11: Catches: 71 \ RecY: 1003 \ RecTD: 5 \ YPC: 14.1 // KR: 956 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S12: Catches: 47 \ RecY: 685 \ RecTD: 8 \ YPC: 14.6 // KR: 315 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S13: Catches: 53 \ RecY: 805 \ RecTD: 8 \ YPC: 15.2 // KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]Career (Defense): Tackles: 202 \ Sacks: 8 \ PDs: 13 \ INTs: 3 \ DTDs: 0
[OPTION]Career (Offense): Catches: 396 \ RecY: 6419 \ RecTD: 50
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]NSFL Playoff Stats
[OPTION]S5: Tackles: 9 \ Sacks: 0 \ PDs: 0 \ INTs: 0 \ DTDs: 0 \ KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S6: Tackles: 8 \ Sacks: 1 \ PDs: 0 \ INTs: 0 \ DTDs: 0 \ KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S7: Tackles: 8 \ Sacks: 0 \ PDs: 0 \ INTs: 0 \ DTDs: 0 \ Catches: 2 \ RecY: 18 \ RecTD: 0
[OPTION]S8: Catches: 3 \ RecY: 40 \ RecTD: 0 \ YPC: 13.3 // KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S9: Catches: 3 \ RecY: 45 \ RecTD: 0 \ YPC: 15 // KR: 43 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S10: DNQ
[OPTION]S11: Catches: 4 \ RecY: 29 \ RecTD: 1 \ YPC: 7.2 // KR: 54 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S12: Catches: 11 \ RecY: 208 \ RecTD: 1 \ YPC: 18.9 // KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]S13: Catches: 6 \ RecY: 55 \ RecTD: 0 \ YPC: 9.2 // KR: 0 \ PR: 0 \ RetTD: 0
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]Trophy Case/Achievements:
[OPTION]S5: Ultimus Trophy Winners
[OPTION]S6: Ultimus Trophy Winners
[OPTION]S12: Ultimus Trophy Winners
[OPTION]S13: Ultimus Trophy Winners
[OPTION]Height: 6'4"
[OPTION]Weight: 260 lbs
[OPTION]Birthplace: Chicago, IL
[OPTION]Number: 3
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]Regular Season Stats
[OPTION]S1: CAR: 207 \ RUS: 995 \ RUT: 4 \ CAT: 19 \ REC: 148 \ RET: 1
[OPTION]S2: CAR: 191 \ RUS: 640 \ RUT: 2 \ CAT: 23 \ REC: 142 \ RET: 3
[OPTION]S3: CAR: 123 \ RUS: 359 \ RUT: 5 \ CAT: 46 \ REC: 387 \ RET: 0
[OPTION]S4: CAR: 123 \ RUS: 357 \ RUT: 6 \ CAT: 69 \ REC: 533 \ RET: 2
[OPTION]Career: CAR: 664 \ RUS: 2351 \ RUT: 17 \ CAT: 157 \ REC: 1210 \ RET: 6
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]Playoff Stats
[OPTION]S1: CAR: 15 \ RUS: 59 \ RUT: 0 \ CAT: 2 \ REC: 11 \ RET: 0
[OPTION]S2: CAR: 13 \ RUS: 32 \ RUT: 0 \ CAT: 0 \ REC: 0 \ RET: 0
[OPTION]S3: CAR: 0 \ RUS: 0 \ RUT: 0 \ CAT: 6 \ REC: 19 \ RET: 0
[OPTION]S4: CAR: 6 \ RUS: 16 \ RUT: 0 \ CAT: 4 \ REC: 17 \ RET: 0
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]Trophy Case/Achievements:
[OPTION]S4: Ultimus Trophy Winners
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]Record:
[OPTION]NSFL S1: OC Otters: 9-5-0
[OPTION]NSFL S2: OC Otters: 8-6-0
[OPTION]EFL S1: Notre Dame University: 0-14-0
[OPTION]NSFL S3: Chicago Blues: 10-4-0
[OPTION]NSFL S4: Chicago Blues: 5-9-0
[OPTION]NSFL S5: Chicago Coyotes: 3-7-0
[OPTION]PBE S7: Milwaukee Swans: 50-50 (Lost World Series 2-3)
[OPTION]NSFL S17: Chicago Butchers: 8-5-0
[OPTION]NSFL S18: Chicago Butchers: 5-8-0
[OPTION]===========================================
[OPTION]Trophy Case/Achievements:
[OPTION]NSFL S1: Finished 2nd in league (2nd in conference)
[OPTION]NSFL S1: Solis Trophy Runners-Up
[OPTION]NSFL S1: GMs of the Year Runners-Up
[OPTION]NSFL S2: Founded DSFL Franchise, Chicago Blues
[OPTION]EFL S1: Joined Notre Dame University as Athletic Director
[OPTION]NSFL S2: Finished 3rd in league (2nd in conference)
[OPTION]NSFL S2: Solis Trophy Runners-Up
[OPTION]EFL S1: Resigned from Athletic Director position with Notre Dame
[OPTION]NSFL S3: Finished 1st in league (1st in conference)
[OPTION]NSFL S3: Noble Trophy Semifinals Runners-Up
[OPTION]NSFL S4: Finished 5th in league (3rd in conference)
[OPTION]NSFL S5: Joined DSFL Franchise, Kansas City Coyotes
[OPTION]NSFL S5: Moved DSFL Franchise, Kansas City Coyotes from Kansas City to Chicago, creating the Chicago Coyotes
[OPTION]NSFL S5: Retired from Leadership Positions in the NSFL
[OPTION]PBE S7: Co-Founded MiPBE Franchise Milwaukee Swans
[OPTION]PBE S7: Finished Runners-up in MiPBE World Series
[OPTION]PBE S8: Resigned from MiPBE team Milwaukee Swans before the start of the season
[OPTION]NSFL S17: Joined NSFL Franchise, Chicago Butchers
[OPTION]NSFL S19: Resigned from NSFL team Chicago Butchers before the start of the season
[OPTION]NSFL S21: Appointed Interim GM of Chicago Butchers
[OPTION]NSFL S21: Staged a violent military coup to gain control of Chicago Butchers
[OPTION]NSFL S21: Retired from all Leadership Positions
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Quote:"There is no such thing as a person who can call themselves truly not lonely. There are only those who choose to hide it."
-Chizuru Ichinose