The Longing Of Shiina Ryo:Bonus Disc Valentine Hunter Kizuna Jun Prologue

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My name is Kizuna Jun. I am a twenty years old college dropout who started working at a factory three months ago. During the time I’ve been there I acquired, or rather, developed a strange ability: I can project a multitude of horns out of my body, having enough control over the extension of them to use my arms and legs covered in the marrow tools of impalement as heavy cactus-looking sledgehammers. Kind of neat, I know. Still, there is a problem with it that renders it absolutely useless for the purposes I had in mind.

It does not make me any more popular with the chicks.

I have to be honest, this usually is not a problem: no matter what kind of flaws you might have, there’s always someone crazy enough to like you. Sometimes, people don’t find them specifically because they’re too busy looking for each other. This should not sound strange at all for anyone who ever watched a romantic comedy: if you have trouble finding the keys of your car, why wouldn’t you have at least twice as much looking for a moving target you don’t know what looks like (except for a vague idea based on your own preferences, but it’s always a surprise how often your romantic interests might divert from the formula) and might be looking for you in all wrong places too? This is ridiculous. If you stay still enough, someone is bound to find you unless the two of you have the same idea. According to experience, they hardly ever think of this.

And if that really fails, whatever you might be interested in, there’s probably already more than enough content of it on the Internet: even if you disregard the kind of sites that would make your service provider itself call the police on you, I bet you could find platonic romance or more just by being there because, much like life, things like that are bound to happen as long as there are people: if you feel lonely and positioned somewhere you can be found, it’s all a matter of waiting.

Thing is, Valentine’s Day is coming and I really like chocolate.

Even a self-proclaimed pariah like me would not dare buying chocolate in Japan so close to that date; the implications are just too overwhelming for me, being male and all. I would feel their gaze on the back of my head, seeing me as a real loner who won’t get it even from coworkers as an obligation gift, and those even more daring would see me as the kind of guy who has a boyfriend. Not that there’s a problem with that but hey, I’m an oddball but not that sort of ‘queer’.

Sure, I could try and look cool buying fancy, high-end stuff but that would make me regret it deeply when I realize how much of my paycheck would be gone just to keep appearances; I could even get just a simple, unpretentious and casual chocolate bar and get done with it.

I want neither.

What I need, what I crave for is chocolate given to me by someone I’m with, regardless of price: I’m positive people have gotten together with others for shallower reasons before, such as attraction. This goes way back to my highschool days when I wasn’t half as popular with the opposite sex and was naïve enough to actively seek for love. Call it a curse if you will, but I was never in a relationship by the time the Valentine’s Day would arrive. Oh, from then on I could or not find someone (and there were moments it felt like girls would break up with me just to avoid buying me chocolate but we would get back together just in time to make me spend money on White Day). It is a personal thing I absolutely must do, so this year I decided to leave it all for the last minute to avoid the possibility of conveniently placed break ups. Figured it would be an easy task: even in this small town there must be girls desperate not to be alone, may it have to do with having someone to show off to their so-called friends or not.

These are the tales of how wrong I was.


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