Post by Daimon Darren on May 13, 2018 16:58:10 GMT -4
It was a cool beginning-of-summer evening, the kind during which Japanese students were on break. If you were in a sports anime, it would be the training camp arc where they happen to meet by chance the other team and get in some kind of ridiculous competition before the actual match. If this was a slice-of-life or a fucked up giant robot anime, you would expect expository shots of with cicadas beatboxing the background and a main protagonist that doesn’t talk a lot.
But this was a delinquent anime, and its self-styled protagonist was loud and was named Darren. Darren was a student in an average-ass middle school, but he didn’t wear his uniform very well. He was missing the jacket and his shirt was not fully buttoned. It was not tucked in either. The staff reprimanded him on his hairstyle. Darren was a delinquent.
Like all delinquents, Darren liked to fight. He was pretty good at it too. His muscular arms poked through the short sleeves of his shirt, and he could muster a pretty mean look if he wanted. He had the relaxed attitude about fighting that people who liked to fight had. His hands were in his pockets and his feet moved at a nonchalant pace as he was headed towards his “date”. The date in question was the kind of date delinquents got into, and the “love letter” was a traditional Japanese challenge letter. Japanese school delinquents had a knack for romanticizing underage brawling.
The blonde half-Australian one we’re interested in arrived just now at the agreed meeting place. It was under a bridge at the edge of an industrial area, where there was a lot of open space well-hidden from public view. In other words, the perfect venue for good old-fashioned face-fisting action. Darren cracked his knuckles.
He was supposed to face some hotshot from a rival middle school about territory or something or the other. He didn’t care much. He was here for a fight. That was very often the reason Darren was somewhere for, after all.
But this was a delinquent anime, and its self-styled protagonist was loud and was named Darren. Darren was a student in an average-ass middle school, but he didn’t wear his uniform very well. He was missing the jacket and his shirt was not fully buttoned. It was not tucked in either. The staff reprimanded him on his hairstyle. Darren was a delinquent.
Like all delinquents, Darren liked to fight. He was pretty good at it too. His muscular arms poked through the short sleeves of his shirt, and he could muster a pretty mean look if he wanted. He had the relaxed attitude about fighting that people who liked to fight had. His hands were in his pockets and his feet moved at a nonchalant pace as he was headed towards his “date”. The date in question was the kind of date delinquents got into, and the “love letter” was a traditional Japanese challenge letter. Japanese school delinquents had a knack for romanticizing underage brawling.
The blonde half-Australian one we’re interested in arrived just now at the agreed meeting place. It was under a bridge at the edge of an industrial area, where there was a lot of open space well-hidden from public view. In other words, the perfect venue for good old-fashioned face-fisting action. Darren cracked his knuckles.
He was supposed to face some hotshot from a rival middle school about territory or something or the other. He didn’t care much. He was here for a fight. That was very often the reason Darren was somewhere for, after all.
