The Film Student, Parts 1–4

Josh was an American studying abroad in Japan. He just wanted to learn how to edit movies. And — I don’t know — maybe find a girlfriend? Kyoko was a driven film student. She wanted to film the most realistic horror thriller. This is their story — delivered in 100-word installments.

Part I

Josh walked into the auditorium. His first day studying film as an exchange student.

In the first row sat a beautiful Japanese woman. Small and lolita cute, but mature and sexy.

The back rows were all full. But no one was sitting near her.

There must be a reason?

Yeah, cuz no one is as bold as me.

Josh walked up slowly and asked, “Is this seat taken?”

Her eyes suddenly changed — from cute to predatory in a nanosecond. Stop it. You’re imagining.

“Yeah, it’s taken,” she replied and grabbed him by the arm. “By you.”

Part II

Kyoko saw a short but cute-looking white male walk into the auditorium of Waseda University’s film school. He looked flustered, like he didn’t know where to go and what to do. He looked like he needed help.

She ran her eyes over him, imagining what he’d look like naked, imagining what he’d look like in a dog collar.

Maybe she should scout him out. She was in need of a new pet ever since the last one disappeared.

She signaled to him with her eyes. (Come!) He came over. A good sign. Looks like he can follow orders.

Part III

Josh dropped his backpack to the side facing the aisle and looked inside. As he did, a pair of female feet encased in shiny black kawaii Mary Jane school girl pumps and baggy leg warmer socks came walking by followed by others in heels and boots.

He was in a daze, forgetting what he was doing.

“Why do you want to go to film school in Japan?” people had asked him.

He had made up some answer about “culture” and “tea” and “seeing the world” or something. And because he liked Japanese film productions.

That last part was technically true.

Part IV

“Hey, boy. I need a pen,” Kyoko said.

Josh reached into his backpack and pulled out an old, ragged BiC that was missing its cap.

Kyoko didn’t take it.

Instead, she pointed to the cool, silver fountain pen with an elegant nib sitting on Josh’s desk.

“That’s my pen.”

A $15 Muji. Not a Montblanc, to be sure, but the sentiments… His on-again, off-again Japanese girlfriend back home gave it to him before he left.

Be free, have fun in Japan, she had said. Don’t worry about me…

“You can use that one.” Kyoko pointed at the BiC.