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No. 26324
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One morning, a Japanese schoolgirl was running through the halls to get to the school roof. Why, you ask? Because the school roof was the best spot to eat lunch, of course. Why was this schoolgirl so eager to eat somewhere so remote and far away from her classroom? Because her upperclassmen wouldn't look for her there. It's unfortunate, but the class above her wasn't particularly friendly towards her and her natural light brown hair. In particular, there were two senior girls who constantly bullied the poor brunette.
However, lady luck didn't care much for this schoolgirl. Upon reaching the stairwell, she leaped up two steps at a time in powerful strides with her petite legs. You could call is carelessness or you could say she was rushing far too much, but her foot caught on the penultimate step, bringing her face abruptly to the concrete platform.
She scuffled to her knees and wiped her forehead. There didn't seem to be any blood or graze. There were casualties, though. She sat and silently gazed upon a mixture of rice, eggs and assorted sides had scattered on the floor. Diligently, the schoolgirl mopped up her ill-fated lunch into her bento box with the lid. Don't cry, she told herself. She was a mature high school student, she reminded herself. Proper ladies don't cry over spilled milk—or lunch, in this case. After that was done, she stood up and made her way up the remaining stairs onto the roof.
The poor, hungry schoolgirl, laying down on the single bench she had brought to the rooftop long ago, admired the vast skies. At that moment, she envied the sky for having no stomach. It did, however, have a person it in. The queerness of the sight suspended reality for a moment, and only when the person had fallen a hundred feet farther did the schoolgirl react. And by react, she sprang to her feet.
What she saw was a foreigner dressed in a soldier's uniform. Before she could say anything, he slapped his helmet, saying, "Son of a gun!"
"Who are you?" the schoolgirl asked in Japanese.
The paratrooper looked around the roof for a second. "Where the fuck am I, China?" he cried, punctuating his question with a, "Hot damn!"
The schoolgirl was noticeable perplexed at the situation in front of her. The soldier was more cautious than anything. He approached the girl, who had turned as stiff as wood in the morn', and looked her once over.
"You're not one of them Commies, are ya'?" he said, pointing his finger at her with his thumb extended.
"Comi?" she replied, tilting her head to the side.
"Yeah, son of a gun!" Said the soldier, before noticing the bento box in her hands. "What's that you got there, a fuckin' nuke?" he asked, tapping his finger on the lid.
The schoolgirl popped off the lid and lifted the box up so he could clearly see the once edible contents that were now covered in dirt and grime.
"Oh, man! Hot damn! Is this the kind of gruel they feed ya' here?" exclaimed the soldier. He immediately took off his bag and handed her a round, paper-wrapped something. The schoolgirl discarded her former lunch on the bench behind her and accepted the mystery package.
The something was warm and slightly moist. A strong aroma of oil filled the air. In no time at all, she tore the paper asunder to reveal an enormous, steaming American hamburger. She looked up at the soldier, who was rolling up his parachute.
"Are you giving this to me?" she asked.
"What? Listen, you can eat that while I scout out the building. I'll be back to take you prisoner, ya' little sumbitch! Fuck China!" called the soldier, walking through the rooftop door to the stairwell.
The schoolgirl hadn't understood a word of the soldier's American, but she understood how burgers worked. At that moment, her self control was lost, and her eyes welled up with tears. The kindness of mankind was too potent for her to bear. Without hesitation, she wrapped her lips around the soft, oiling sesame seed bun, and took a big, juicy bite.
The End.
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