[His eyes flit upwards in a silent acknowledgement, but he doesn't say verbally one way or the other.]
Among his work, one of the most popular of his creations was a strip about six young boys, all identical, all nearly impossible to tell apart. Since it was a gag comic, nothing was taken seriously; people could be violent to each other, or mean, and it was all in the name of exaggerated humor. People loved it.
One day, years later, Akatsuka-sensei died. Years after that, those sextuplets, in honor of their creator, wanted to bring their presence back to Japan, to remind people of his work. But they knew that the humor that worked in the Showa era didn't work in the twenty-first century. And they wanted to make sure they wouldn't just become side characters in their own work either; being completely identical only goes so far! So... they grew up. And became their own people. The humor was still on the mean side, but now the six were capable of carrying things more on their own.
But, of course, one of them had to become the "tsukkomi." The straight man. So one of them would react the way other people would to what people do. It's... it's a humor style. And so one sextuplet, somehow, gained that role.
[He turns the cup in his hands again.]
...but the fact was, one can only do so much in a situation like that. And so that sextuplet frequently found himself on the outside of the situation, horrified at his brothers, but also on the inside, working with them. Both wanting to be like them, but also wanting to be "normal." Without a community really supporting the latter, he ended up falling back into the former a lot. And this was fine -- in a world where actions didn't really have long term consequences.
[He looks down.]
Except briefly, one time, they did. Then inevitably went back to normal. And then that sextuplet joined his brothers in a place where consequences were even more important. And suddenly, that sextuplet realized the truth:
[His fists clench.]
That what's funny to people from a distance is horrifying in person. And how terrible he really was.
no subject
Among his work, one of the most popular of his creations was a strip about six young boys, all identical, all nearly impossible to tell apart. Since it was a gag comic, nothing was taken seriously; people could be violent to each other, or mean, and it was all in the name of exaggerated humor. People loved it.
One day, years later, Akatsuka-sensei died. Years after that, those sextuplets, in honor of their creator, wanted to bring their presence back to Japan, to remind people of his work. But they knew that the humor that worked in the Showa era didn't work in the twenty-first century. And they wanted to make sure they wouldn't just become side characters in their own work either; being completely identical only goes so far! So... they grew up. And became their own people. The humor was still on the mean side, but now the six were capable of carrying things more on their own.
But, of course, one of them had to become the "tsukkomi." The straight man. So one of them would react the way other people would to what people do. It's... it's a humor style. And so one sextuplet, somehow, gained that role.
[He turns the cup in his hands again.]
...but the fact was, one can only do so much in a situation like that. And so that sextuplet frequently found himself on the outside of the situation, horrified at his brothers, but also on the inside, working with them. Both wanting to be like them, but also wanting to be "normal." Without a community really supporting the latter, he ended up falling back into the former a lot. And this was fine -- in a world where actions didn't really have long term consequences.
[He looks down.]
Except briefly, one time, they did. Then inevitably went back to normal. And then that sextuplet joined his brothers in a place where consequences were even more important. And suddenly, that sextuplet realized the truth:
[His fists clench.]
That what's funny to people from a distance is horrifying in person. And how terrible he really was.
[He's quiet, for a while longer.]
That's... that's my story, I guess.