My Imourtol: Pilot Episode Aug04

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My Imourtol: Pilot Episode

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New A3K Writer “Protto” uses his anime know-how to pitch a pilot episode of his own anime series!

[Greetings, denizens of A3K. I am Protto. But you already knew that; my reputation precedes me, I’m sure. I have watched you and your godless contributors, cavorting throughout this web space with nary an iota of common sense about you. Nary a molecule, I daresay. Casting your reviews and your ranks and your podcasts… Ha, I say! Ha HA!

YOU expect to review ANIME with not even a whit of sense for the medium – nay, the art! Therefore, I, Protto, like a colossal flood of biblical times, have been summoned to wash away your filth. As an aspiring professional American anime producer, allow me to enlighten you to the nuances of Japanese television writing. Here, I place upon your doorstep the greatest achievement of my life as of yet. My magnum opus, if you will. Once you have laid eyes on my masterpiece, you too will achieve a greater appreciation of anime.

After spending 16 hours a day watching anime and 4 hours a day talking about anime and 2 hours a day humping a pillow with characters from anime, I am now so intimately familiar with anime that I can craft my very own anime the likes of which can only be compared to the recent mainstream phenomena of Shingeki no Kyojin. And similarly, I expect bigshots such as Production I.G. will be clamoring over themselves to adapt my concepts to the television screen in no time flat. So be grateful that you are able get a sneak peek at my genius before it is immortalized in the public’s collective memory.

With that, allow me to direct your attention to the future Asian sensation about sibling relation meant to sweep the nation…]

 

My Imourtol: Pilot Episode

My Imourtal Header

Ohayooo~! Konnichiwaaa~! Watashi no namaewa… Yui Sakura Chiyo Mika-Mika Kanon Miyuki Johnson (由桜千代美佳美佳カノン幸ジョンソン)desuyo~! I am 144 cm tall, my measurements are 94-52-63, my favorite food is caeki, and my blood type is Japanese. I was born on December 25th, 2001, and since it is now 2015, that makes me 18 years old! I live in the exciting and lively bustling Japanese town of Los Angeles, where lots of fun things happen every day, nee~!

Just like today, which is my very first day of high school! Oh, that’s right, I forgot to tell you: I am just an ordinary young girl, now an ordinary high school girl. I lead an ordinary life with my ordinary family and friends, my grades are slightly above average, and sports are my favorite subject. Demo~, though I am ordinary, I am this cute!

I hastily turn off my neko-shaped alarm clock, which has been ringing nonstop for a long time, now, and spring out of bed with lots of energy. As is routine, I reach down and grab the hem of my pajama top and begin to take it off. With deliberate slowness, I slip the fabric over my smooth pale skin, having trouble when it reaches my chest, but eventually I pull it over the mountainous melon mounds and off my head. I then take hold of my pants and meticulously push it down my slim, milky, unblemished thighs, revealing white, bear-printed lace underneath. My pants fluidly glide down the supple skin of my calves and come to a rest at my ankles. Finally they are off.

I look back to my clock and realize fifteen minutes have passed since I started to strip. I have to get going or I’ll be late!

Standing in the middle of my room in just my pantsu, I walk over to my bedroom door, sunlight streaming in through the window and sparkling against my bared flesh. It’s time to take a shower! I think happily to myself as I trot through the house in just my underwear. I have to be as discreet as I possibly can, of course, for if I am discovered, someone from my family could see me in my most vulnerable state, and then I would be ruined for marriage! That’s just the worst!

I safely reach the bathroom and turn on the shower. It isn’t long before everything is enshrouded in revitalizing steam and I gleefully hop underneath the water after removing my bear pantsu and carelessly leaving it in the sink. As I leisurely scrub my neck, shoulders, the crevices underneath my chest dumbbells, hips, and not much else, feeling the hot water trickle down my flat stomach and down the insides of my legs, I suddenly realize I had forgotten to lock the bathroom door. Not to mention close it. And now that I look closer, I haven’t even drawn the shower curtains. How forgetful of me!

Finished with my shower, I towel off and pad back to my room. I find a crisp, new sailor uniform and a plain black hachimaki headband waiting in my closet and start to pull them on. It is while doing this that I discover that the hachimaki is actually a skirt!

I plant myself in front of my large, heart-shaped, full length mirror and look myself over. My uniform is slightly too small and comes to an abrupt end at my bellybutton. Those careless school administrators! It’s not a big deal, though, and I turn my attention to my wet, unruly hair. After wrestling with it for a bit, I am able to get it just how I like it: I now wear an innocent twintails style with a carefully molded pinku ahoge at the tippy-top of my head. At the zenith of the ahoge I make sure to tie a big red bow to complete the look. Looking at it now, my kawaii shiny blonde hair trails down to my ankles, and so I make sure to remind myself to get a haircut if it ever gets longer and hard to manage.

Ah…! You must be wondering why my hair is blonde AND pinku, desho~? It’s because I am a hanbu – half Japanese only. My father is a Nipponjin while my mother, who died when I was very young, hails from the rich cultural background of Western Earth.

“Yosh!” I screech at my mirror and ball my hands into exciting fists.

I begin to charge down the stairs two at a time, but before I can take a second step, I lose my footing and fall. Picking myself up, I try descending again only to end up with similar results. It happens again and again until I reach the bottom, where I land on my butt with my legs spread wide open. For some reason there is a working camera placed on the floor inches away with the lens facing in my direction, but I ignore it because it has nothing to do with me. I’m such a klutz!

“Off to a bad start this morning?”

I look up to see my father giving me a sympathetic look from the kitchen, and I turn my face away in shame.

“W-who designed such a shameless staircase anyway?!” I yell at him.

I see I am the first to arrive and head to my place at the table. The hardwood chair makes a “POMF” noise as I sit on it. It isn’t long before the last member of the family comes to join us: my older brother. He is actually my father’s first child with another woman, and so only my half-brother. This is why he looks so different from me, and instead has black hair and completely average looks.

He turns to me with a glare and accuses, “Did you leave your underwear in the sink again? You’re disgusting.”

My cheeks flush with such an invitingly bright shade of red that any man would pounce upon his sister upon seeing it and instantly tear her clothes off and start doing dirty things to her private places where I would be ashamed to even be seen even though maybe since it was my brother doing those things to me I might not even mind it so much—

“Ehhhhhh?!” I shout to dispel the thoughts my brother has obviously planted into my head. “O-onii-sama, you s-saw them?! Y-you lech!”

Clearly, onii-sama is a lazy, dirty-minded, gross, good-for-nothing, sex-crazed, shameless, carnivorous oaf who would take advantage of any woman.

“Just stop leaving them around the house. And quit calling me that, too. My name’s Patrick, not… whatever that Chinese word you keep using is,” onii-sama muttered darkly.

“Hmph!” Maybe if my idiot onii-sama didn’t like looking at and probably sniffing and nuzzling my pantsu so much, I wouldn’t be so careless as to leave them everywhere for him to find!

As I am rebuking onii-sama’s shameful behavior in my thoughts, an alarmingly light breeze drifts through the open kitchen window. Yabai! I manage to think to myself before I am knocked over by the powerful force of nature and am forced from my chair and onto the floor.

I find myself lying prostrate on the ground save for my bottom half, which is propped up by my knees. My chair tips over from the momentum of my fall and lands hard near my head, catching my strewn-about hair underneath and pinning me down. Struggling to free myself, I feel another cruel draft of air gently waft through the house, and I am sorely reminded that I had forgotten to put on a new pair of underwear when my skirt is lifted up.

The stress of this nightmarish situation is too much and my heaving breasts push my uniform up and out of the way, spilling out and revealing themselves, barely restrained by my bra.

“Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

I hear the barking of neighbors’ dogs in the distance as I scream. The sonic force of my voice must have been too strong, for the bowl of cereal that had before been on the table in front of me spills over, causing milk to run down the table’s edge and splash across my face. I can only helplessly feel the creamy white droplets drizzle down my chin.

“What the f–!”

I turn my head toward the sound of onii-sama’s voice with what little range of movement I have to try and ask for help. However, all my worst fears come true when I see the look on his face: disbelief.

Disbelief at the opportunity to take advantage of me and do something shameless, surely!

I alluringly turn my humiliated, rosy, tear-streaked face toward him to try and dissuade him from doing anything reckless. “Waaah! You… can see everything!” I huff breathily. “H-hazukashii~! Onii-sama… help me! Don’t look, but help me!”

“How did this even happen to you?!” he demands, taking a step forward.

Ah, he is advancing…! This is the end. I tense myself in anticipation for the completely unwanted, unimaginable pleasure that I know is coming…

ED: Imouto Please, by Ayana Taketatsu.

Will Yui-chan’s aniki do it? Is this the end of Yui-chan’s purity? The answer is no, but tune in to find out anyway, next time on…. My Imourtol!