While ITW6 is still in progress amidst of chaos that is Jo's life, we are aware that ITW7 may not be out by end of May as we projected.  But we also don't want to be empty handed at Fanime either.  So, going off from a survey from looooong ago about what kind of side story would interest people from FB, a portion said they would be interested in Katsuya's backstory.  Although we planned quite a few of them, they are in the ITW timeframe and we couldn't post them until more of the story's revealed.  Pre-ITW time frame of Katsuya in NY was an interesting discovery we've had.  The character David had good feedbacks (maybe because he's not an asshole and he genuinely liked Katsuya... not in the unreciprocated way as seen in ITW).  Developing a story pre-ITW avoids any kind of spoiler, which is a plus.  However, we are still working this character and can only hope David is up to par of carrying a story with Katsuya.

And Jo promised that David will be a very good looking. ^_-

So, this is part 1 of 2 of this unnamed story now that we are developing as an illustrated short story (it may be up to 20-25 pages) along with ITW liner notes and working sketches, etc.  We'd like to put this out as a companion with ITW vol. 1 manga DMI will be releasing then.  DavidXKatsuya pairing's also a focus for us for Summer Comiket,  We would like for you to read this (and NY Minute if you haven't already -- link HERE ).  We want to gauge general interest in this pairing and the storyline since this is very different from ITW.  Katsuya's also younger and not as jaded.  Not quite a queen yet.  More of a princess.

You can send us comments via the LJ or email if you don't want to leave it here.  At this point, we just want to collect information from our readers on this storyline.  At the least, we want to fix characterizations if Krause or Katsuya read very irritating.  The 'squishy romance', as one of my friends called it - I hope wasn't too much either.  Well, I didn't think so.  I've seen more make-out at a grocery store.  

asano_sensei

Was sent a URL by one of our readers ---

http://free-manga.livejournal.com/6902328.html

I can't see it since I am not a member.  I was informed it was a URL to a ITW1 download.  As much as I've been told to 'expect it', it doesn't hurt any less.  It is like being told choosing to go into the military or being a cop - I am expected to get hurt or die.  Does it make any more sense to be told that when you are a woman, don't be too shocked if you are raped? It disappoint me greatly, that someone would exchange their sense of integrity for the feel of the temporary 'atta boy' to the other anonymouses who also feel the same sense of entitlement. 

I do not download videos or read scans.  It's a personal choice I made.  I don't particularly get worked up about it when someone say they do it for any of the reasons they say they do it.  "I want to see/read it before I buy it." or "I can't get it any other way".  It is simply easier to take things online because everyone is anonymous with a handle.  Even me.  No one would ever think to walk into a restraurant and have a full meal first before deciding they didn't like it so they walked out without paying.  No one would think to take a merchandise on display because they feel they are entitled to it, simply because they couldn't pay for it.  It's a hazard of this internet age.  But, I don't do any of those things. I buy my mangas and I buy my DVDs. I've never seen this Tiger&Bunny and I've only seen 4 episodes of Blue Exorcist because they played it on the JAL flt television.  It sort of kicks me (and Jo) pretty hard in the ass when this was done to us.  We are not a fortune 500 company who would not be financially impacted by this.  We do this because we love what we do but the spare time we put into doing this has to also pay the mortage and bills.  If this becomes widespread to the point that each doujin becomes DL'able in the future, the reality of it is - G|P can't afford to exist. 

To the people who posted our doujin and the people who DL'ed them - what excuse do you have except "I don't want to pay for it?" It is on sale. We ship it everywhere in the world.  If it's too expensive, wait a few months and all 5 of them becomes available in manga form for the price of one. You would throw a shit-fit if someone so much cut in front of you in line, never mind steal from you.  How about being a decent human being and not do the same? Is your sense of integrity that cheap?

If you dare to defend this by, "it happens all the time in the fandom. It's what fans do." Or even imply that "at least someone wants to read your work" would make us giddy.  These are the fans we DO NOT want.  I would not even call them fans.  We didn't do what we do so we can be popular.  Jo and I are no longer in position in our lives to do this just to gather "you are great!" fan letters. We have more than just ourselves to support.  We appreciate each and every one of the fans who wrote to us because each one DID support us financially into the subsequent book.  We don't want the readers who write in "I read your story in the scan comm - it was great!" Fuck you and the goat you rode in on.

Thank you to the fan who informed us of this.  I can only hope we have readers like you always outnumber the people who  does nothing but beg for someone else to buy something they want and upload it so they can spend money on things in RL that they can't steal.

Addendum: The comm moderator was written to.  But the damage is already done - there's copies of it that's just going to propagate into other file-share comms and sites.  We can only hope that asshole stopped at ITW1 and others who did DL the file stop distribution.  Yeah, I know.  I said HOPE.   

UPDATE: The URL's removed via the comm moderator.  The mediafire file had been deleted by the site.  Thank you to all of you wonderful peeps who had written in to support us in words and also in tips to help close this out quickly.  Love you all! <3

asano_sensei

It had been 10 years but he couldn’t feel he missed home. At least, not yet, he thought. A Japanese new year’s card from his cousin who had signed for the Asano household was in his coat pocket. The handmade card with small, folded silver and gold cranes glued to the textured red background was simple – made by the old man who had raised him. The old man who had replaced his grandfather when the patriarch died.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and took the card out to look at it again. Sitting in a running car, parked at the police barricade that divided the boisterous New York crowd that had gathered at the Time Square – waiting for crystal the ball to drop, felt surreal. He was there but he felt distinctly out of place.

“You alright?”

Katsuya smiled reflexively and tucked the card back into his coat pocket.

“I’m fine.”

Krause pressed a hand over Katsuya’s and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

“Front row seat and in a warm car too. Stick with me baby, it's VIP all the way.”

“Yes, thank you for inviting me to watch the ball drop.”

“A few more minutes,” Krause said, lacing his fingers through Katsuya’s. “But you seem to be preoccupied with the letter from home. Things okay?”

“It is. Just the usual complaints. I’ve not been home in ten years.”

“There a reason why?”

“No,” Katsuya said. He looked away and up at the descending, brightly lit Waterford crystal ball. “No reason. I like it here.”

“You are supposed to say, “David, I like it here because you are here.””

“It would be a rather insincere thing to say if I say it now.”

The countdown started. It was thunderous. The ball was insidiously bright, closer to the base.

“I don’t mind white lies at all,” Krause said, hooking his arm around Katsuya’s neck and brought him close. “Happy new year…”

“But it’s not …”

The words were lost when Krause pressed his mouth over Katsuya’s. There were only incoherent chaos that erupted around them. Pops of the fireworks and shoutings were just overlapped noises all around.  Katsuya didn’t hear any of it, as he took the new year’s kiss. His first new year’s kiss.

“It’d be great if I can get away with breaking a few penal codes and follow up the kiss with something else…” Krause said, after he broke off the kiss and leaned back.

“I am not an exhibitionist.”

“It’ll be awhile before we can leave.”

Katsuya’s fingers tightened around Krause’s and he smiled brilliantly.

“It will be worth the wait,” he said. “Happy new year, David.”

New York Minute

          Although it had already passed midnight, well into Christmas day, Katsuya’s focus still remained on the thick stack of papers fanned out in front of him.  Full color crime scene photos were strewn among the papers that detailed the macabre double homicide from days ago. 

          He had chosen a seat at an oval table, his back to the window in one of the drab conference rooms that stank of stale cigarettes and spilt coffee.  Outside the snow still came down hard, the thickness of it lit by orange street lights.  He didn’t like New York winters.  He didn’t like the snow. 

          He had chosen to study the files at the precinct for an absurd reason.  There was always someone in the building, and there was always the constant cacophony of the city dregs resonating in the booking section down the hall.  The incoherent yelling from the drunks and shrill protests from the prostitutes made him feel less isolated, although he didn’t celebrate the holidays.  As usual, he had repeatedly refused company from other cops who had taken a liking to him and who had tried to collect him like a stray and include him in their family functions. 

          Good thing I can self-diagnose and know if I’m insane or if I just like being a recluse.  I’m not lonely, but I don’t want to be alone.  Classic.

          Katsuya only looked up at the clock when he reached for his coffee, feeling the cold liquid through the paper cup.  It was nearly 1 A.M.  He stretched, pushing himself away from the desk.  He looked out the window and frowned.  The snow had buried most of the cars in the lot, including his own.  The thought of shoveling it out pained him.  He was still staring at the strange snow-covered shape that he was certain was his sedan, when the door behind him opened abruptly.  He turned, startled by the sudden slam against the wall.

          “Sorry.  They should really attach a hydraulic thingy on top of the door,” his visitor said. 

          “I see you’ve invoked the Captain’s wrath again,” Katsuya remarked.

          Homicide detective David Krause shut the door before seating himself at the table.  He was in full uniform with his parka unzipped.  There was still a dusting of snow on his shoulders and hair.  He flung his damp wheel cap onto the table. 

          “Yes and no,” he said, shrugging off his parka and leaving it draped over the back of the chair.  “We’re already under-manned, but the Commissioner ordered three times the DUI checkpoints to be done over the next twenty-four hours.  I got drafted because of a little verbal altercation I had with the supervisors last week.”

          Krause knitted his fingers together and pillowed the back of his head as he leaned back in his chair.

          “It’s shit work, but at least I am not on call until the twenty-sixth.  Merry Christmas to me.”

          “For another…” Katsuya looked at the clock,  “twenty hours.”

          “The entire twenty hours.”

          “Then you should be home, enjoying it.”

          “Technically I am not off yet.  Not for another thirty minutes.  I came in to drop off a deuce.  Made McKenzie take it so I’m not stuck with the paperwork.”

          “So you’re hiding out here until your shift ends."

          “Yeah.  If I go back out on the road, I might catch another drunk and there goes my twenty hours,” Krause said.  “And of course, I’m here to annoy you for a while.”

          Katsuya tapped a finger on top of the papers, uncertain what his answer should be.  He had known the detective since he was assigned to the district,  one of the very few vets that didn’t give him an uneasy look because he was Japanese and looked “too young” for his position.  He liked Krause.  There was an abrasiveness and callousness to the detective that Katsuya was fascinated by.  He couldn’t guess his age, although he could have easily stolen glances at the personnel records he had full access to.  He placed him at least ten years older than himself, just based on the years a cop would need to invest to reach Krause’s rank and position.

          “You look very nice in uniform,” Katsuya said.  It wasn’t something he would ordinarily have said, but Krause did look sharp. His hair was neatly brushed back so it could be tucked underneath the wheel cap.  The dark blue uniform, adorned with just a silver badge and a metal name tag, fitted him well.  The man didn’t carry himself professionally all the time, but he did dress well.  He knew how to present himself and probably owned nothing off the rack. 

          “Turned on by a man in uniform?” Krause asked, a grin blossoming over his face.  He unhooked his interlaced fingers and patted his chest with one hand.  “Merry Christmas to you.  Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

          Katsuya laughed, something he seldom did.  He gave easy smiles to colleagues and strangers alike -- it was part of his persona to be comforting, accessible – although he never truly meant them.  There was rarely any genuineness in his smile, and ironically he felt guilty about that.  However, Krause was one of the few people that made him happy and could make him laugh. 

          “Uniforms are intended to create the illusion of power and order,” Katsuya said.  “I suppose some people associate fetishism with the desire to access the power and status the uniforms represent.  Of course, this is not a confession.”

          “Don’t shop in the dollar store with ten dollar words.  You’re not gonna get change back.”

          “Right…,” Katsuya said, his smile remaining.  He looked down at the paperwork and his wish to continue evaporated.  He didn’t want to look at the pictures of the deceased or read the gory details anymore.  It felt wrong -- being happy while documents of violent deaths were spread out in front of him.  He started to return them to the manila folders.

          “No plans tonight?”

          “I’m not a Christian,” Katsuya said, suddenly feeling awkward, reflecting back on his absurd comment about Krause’s uniform.  “Today is just another day.”

          “It won’t be.”

          “What’s that?”

          Krause reached out.  He hesitated for a second, short of touching Katsuya’s hand.  Instead, he started collecting the photos and slipping them back into the numbered envelopes.

          “I’m alone.  You’re alone.  Let’s be alone together.”

          Katsuya almost laughed again.  He disguised it with a cough.  “I have a personal policy about being with colleagues….”

          Krause rolled his eyes.  “Yes, yes…. If things don’t work out, it’d be terribly shitty to work in the same place and see each other every day, I know.  But we’re not going steady.  Just two friends being friendly.  Don’t put any conditions on how two people should behave.  You over-plan things.  It kills the spontaneity."

          “I think that’s the point,” Katsuya said.  He dragged his briefcase from the side and placed the accordion folder bound with a rubber band into it.  “When you plan, you can anticipate the worst.”

          Krause leaned in – his body hovering over the table.  It was uncomfortable and he had to be on his tip-toes, but he was able to reach Katsuya.  He cupped Katsuya’s face in his hands.

          “You also will give up opportunities to find unexpected good in people, if all you do is turn them away.”

          Katsuya was confused, stunned by the sudden intimacy.  The only words he could utter were, “Your hands are very cold."

          Krause only smiled and planted a kiss on his lips.  A gentle kiss – almost testing Katsuya’s resolve.  When he didn’t pushed Krause away, the kiss become bolder.  The tongue that swept into Katsuya's mouth tasted of coffee.

          “Wait for me,” Krause said softly, after he pulled back.

          Katsuya gave the slightest nod and Krause’s smile grew.  He kissed Katsuya on his forehead.

          Krause left his parka in the chair and cap on the table and walked out of the room.  Katsuya sat back in his chair, sinking further into it.  His lower lip felt warm.  He hadn’t felt that kind of warmth in a long time.  He felt stupid, as he reached up and touched his lower lip with his index finger. 

          He spun his chair around and looked through the window.  The snow had let up into a light flurry.  Somehow, Katsuya realized, maybe he didn’t dislike New York winter or snow so much after all.