Clannad:Another Story, Kouko’s Diary
It’s been several months since I posted the first story I worked on. I’ve worked on another one of the stories in the mean time, but since a translation was already released for that, I never made the effort to finalize it. Maybe I’ll work on it though. It’s interesting looking back, and fixing up errors that now look strange, as my understanding of the lines just seems a lot better.
This time around, I tried to make for a more natural flow, rather than to preserve as much of the structure as possible. Maybe the vocabulary was a lot easier than the other works I’ve been working on, but the process just went by quicker. As for the story itself, typical Maeda fare, with a piercing ending (assuming you know the story), just what the fans expect. There are illustrations, that are quite nice, that I will probably try to get a hold of and insert in their relative locations, after I have access to the book again. Until then, enjoy.
Story 5: Kouko’s diary
Starting today, I have decided to keep an observation diary of my younger sister Fuu-chan, apart from my own diary. Though it is pitiful, there are times when even I, her older sister, am unable to understand that girl.
“It’s shiritori with Fujiko Fujio characters, Unagi-Inu!”
I wonder what someone should do when told that. Should they try to frantically search Fujiko Fujio’s works for a character whose name starts with “Nu?” Or perhaps they should gently admonish her saying, “Fuu-chan, that’s Akatsuka Fujio isn’t it?”
In the first place, whether it’s Fujiko Fujio or whether it’s Akatsuka Fujio, I can’t possibly imagine that a game of shiritori limited to a single author could be sustained (though if Mizuki Shigeru were allowed, “Nurikabe” comes to mind).
Or possibly, I just haven’t understood some message there.
Supposing something was there before, it would be nice if by looking back through this diary, I could come to understand those intentions. So wishing, I write.
Fuu-chan remembered a strange skill. Saying, “Certain kill…..Play Bite!” she comes and bites my ear. She then continues in this way.
“With this, onee-chan is love struck.”
I was troubled. How should I respond? This scene is full of issues. “Where in the world did you pick that up,” “What are you to do once you’ve love struck me,” “In the first place, are not certain kill and play bite contradictory, thus, instead of a play bite, wouldn’t an all out bite be more effective as a certain kill?” If one were to start criticizing this scene, there would be no end.
Coming to bite me again, this time I tried dodging.
“Uggh…You can move?”
Well, even if you tell me with that much surprise.
“By any chance, have you not become love struck?”
“I have not,” I reply.
“Is that so…onee-chan was a person without feelings?”
Somehow, this was an awful way of being told this.
When I tell her, “Onee-chan still has work left to do, sorry”
“Curses, off to my next plan.”
She leaves the room angrily.
What kind of message is hidden there, I wonder. Although she is my little sister, the mysteries only deepen.
Fuu-chan was wearing glasses.
“Fuuko has become a meganekko,” she loudly declares.
But those glasses were clearly mine. Though I ask, “Those are onee-chan’s, aren’t they?” she insists, “They are Fuuko’s.” Though I say, “Lying isn’t good?” she does not listen.
Saying, “I am reading,” she begins searching through the bookshelves in my room without asking me. Choosing a book that must be dreadfully boring for her, she begins to read, still standing in that same place.
Her upper body begins to shake. It appears that she is dizzy from the difficulty.
Sighing, “Fuu,” she returns the book to its place. Then turning towards me she says, “I have finished reading it,” triumphantly raising the earpieces of my glasses. The time she spent reading the book was about three minutes. Impossible.
When I return my focus to working, Fuu-chan leaves the room. With that, I expected her to be satisfied, but the eccentricities continued.
As I was heading towards the bathroom, I crossed upon Fuu-chan in the corridor. I didn’t even bump her, but Fuu-chan is lying on her back on the floor.
“Are you okay?” I call out. Remaining silent, Fuu-chan looks up into my face. I look more carefully, and find that Fuu-chan’s has undone her usually tied up hair. Furthermore, at her feet are my glasses. What could this possibly be?
“Did your heart flutter?’
It appeared. Some sort of riddle.
No, it did not, I replied.
“What a shock!”
I am also shocked.
“Onee-chan, if you aren’t interested in meganekko, say so from the beginning!”
She does not speak like a normal person.
Saying, “Fuuko really wasted time,” she gets up. She presents me my glasses.
“I humbly thank you for letting me borrow these.”
“You are welcome.”
I don’t understand her at all.
“Darling, Fuuko daccha.”
Today really stands out. Even if I look to the furthest reaches of my memory, it jumps out preeminently. I wonder if she was possessed by something.
I rap, ban-ban, on her on the back. Maybe it hurt; shouting “Wah,” she runs away.
Settling down in a roar, once again trying to say her name, shouting to me,
“Ossu! ora Fuuko!”
She was possessed by something else.
“Which way was better?”
I ask if I have only these two alternatives.
“Yes,” she nods to me.
After troubling over this, thinking that the former, still having some decency unlike the former, was less objectionable, I respond saying the second way was better.
“Daccha is no good? Then I will go with oissu. Oissu!”
That’s Chou-san. I thought it was “ossu” though.
“That’s what it was. Ossu! Omee Fuuko!”
I am Kouko.
“I’ll show you my special skill. You’ll certainly be charmed. Please watch me.”
Fuu-chan brings her hands together, and is slowly pulling them back.
And then, in one breath, she lets out,
Ah, she fires there.
“Doka—-n! The enemy is blasted to pieces.”
“Enemy” is too hard to bear.
“What’s wrong, was onee-chan charmed?”
I couldn’t take it anymore. Without a reply, I just let loose a stiff smile.
“If you stay quiet, I won’t know. Please give your opinion as to whether this was more charming than the usual Fuuko.”
I reply, “The normal Fuuko is good.” And then,
“What a shock! Making me act like that up until now is just too much!”
She became angry, unfortunately.
“Onee-chan said she liked this way better…so even though it was embarrassing, I did my best to fire my Kamehame…”
Ah, it really was named that. She’s mistaken. But if I were to criticize every single point like that, there would be no end, so I just say to her that I only chose that way because Fuu-chan told me to choose.
“I see…the normal Fuuko was better…”
She sadly drops her shoulders, and leaves.
Today, Fuu-chan behaved in a completely incomprehensible manner. She has been following me all day. When I turn to her to ask, “What did I do?” she hides her face in a nearby wall.
Even when I say, “I can see you, you know?” she remains silent.
I start walking again. She follows me.
I suddenly turn around.
When I do, taking the nearby phone’s receiver,
“Ah, it’s me,” she says nonsensically.
Again? Thinking that she would soon grow tired of this, I leave her be.
However, today’s eccentricities continued throughout the day.
It was like this when I went to the restroom. Knocking on the door, she comes asking, “Who is it?” When I answer, “It’s onee-chan,” the conversation ends there.
Even when I go outside to water the flowers, she follows me.
“What’s wrong Fuu-chan?” I turn to ask.
Just as she had done up until now, she quickly clings to a nearby wall. However…a cutting noise is made, and she screams “Wahh!”
There was a cactus decorating that area. Spines were sticking out of Fuu-chan’s cheek. Rushing to get the first-aid kit, I treat her. After disinfecting the cut, I stick a large bandage on for her.
For a while, Fuu-chan, while stroking her cheek, looks up at me unpleasantly. And then, she suddenly points behind my back and cries like this,
“Ah, a man that looks just like Miki Douzan is walking there!”
It is probably a strategy to make me turn around; it is not very effective.
“He’s singing ‘Isshou issho ni itte kureya’ to himself. Surely it’s the real person!”
“Ehh…it would be amazing if that’s the real person. I want an autograph,” I turn, pretending to be tricked. As expected, there is no one there that looks just like Mika Douzan (In the first place, even if the real person were there, not knowing him well, I would not have been able to recognize him).
When I turn towards Fuu-chan again, as expected, she is clinging the wall.
Without saying a word, I start watering the flowers.
After dinner, when I return to my room, Fuu-chan is crouching behind the trash bin in the corner. She looks quite cramped.
As a test, I move the trash bin. She tumbles towards me. Though I felt sorry for her, I move the trash bin next to the floor cushion. She curls up snugly on top of the cushion.
After ten minutes, when I turn around, I find Fuu-chan asleep, as expected. Shaking her shoulder, I tell her, “Why don’t you sleep properly on the futon.”
With half open eyes, “Un,” she nods her head. Rubbing her eyes sleepily, she shakily walks out of the room.
Her last words were these.
“It was the real one.”
Dropping my jaw in amazement, I stayed like that for about an hour.
Today, Fuu-chan said this to me,
“I am going out.”
“Eh? By yourself?” I ask. She nods.
This spring break, I made it a point not to play with Fuu-chan. Fuu-chan, always playing only with me, had no other friends. At this rate, always playing with just her older sister, she would never make friends. Sensing a danger, I decided on this.
Starting April, Fuu-chan will also be a high school student. So she could take this opportunity, I decided not to play with Fuu-chan. Using the present loneliness as a spring, I would like her to make many friends in high school.
It is that Fuu-chan who is saying that she is going out by herself. Without me inviting her. This kind of thing never happening until now, I was surprised.
“Are you okay?” I ask. Saying, “I’m okay,” she puts down her chopsticks.
Pattering around the house, it seems like she is making her preparations.
Is she going shopping by herself, I wonder. I wonder if it’s safe. Thinking these things, I smile to myself. I wonder if it was me who couldn’t let that girl go. Furthermore, she’s already a high school student.
I decided to return to my room. In the evening, I went outside to water the flowers. I find Fuu-chan sitting by the entrance.
She is looking into a bucket.
After saying, “Welcome back, you had already returned,” I looked into the bucket. There was a crayfish inside.
I was at a loss for words. I did not know what to say. This kid went out to catch this. And then, she came to play with it here.
By herself. All by herself.
My chest hurt. I just hugged Fuu-chan.
“You were lonely, weren’t you. I’m sorry,” I tell her.
“Let’s play together,” I say, holding out my hand.
“Together, we could catch even more.”
“Since onee-chan is good at this.”
But she did not do that. Without lifting her hands from her knees, she said just one thing,
“Amazing, I caught a crayfish.”
Fuu-chan, grabbing the crayfish, shows me its belly. Her triumphant smile seems to say, “I caught it myself.”
And now, re-reading this diary, I understand.
All those things, were to Fuu-chan, important actions to shake free from me. A process of confirming various things. They were to confirm my feelings.
Fuu-chan is growing.
She is parting with me.
While it makes me lonely, that is an important thing.
The first spring break we spent apart came to an end. Tomorrow is the entrance ceremony. There is only one thing I can write now.
I hope it will be sunny.
“Well, then, I’m off”
Have a good day, Fuu-chan.
 A eel-dog hybrid in the manga Tensai Bakabon, written by Akatsuka Fujio.
 Nu is a very uncommon syllable.
 Here, Fuuko is imitating Lum Invader from Urusei Yatsura. It is a “speech impediment” used to end sentences, much like Suiseiseki’s excessive use of “desu.”
 This is almost a direct quotation from Dragonball Z, the original being “Ossu! ora goku!” meaning, Hey, I’m Goku!”
 Ikariya Chousuke, a Japanese comedian. Known for making his entrance shouting, “Oissu!”
 Meaning literally, “Hey, you’re Fuuko!” in the same crude speech style. Impossible to translate this without losing the only slight difference in the sounds that this particular line of gags is running on without some serious creative license.