Ahoy, everybody!  We’re back with another giveaway, only this time there is a twist…you need to utilize your creativity!

This time, we are giving away the complete series of Welcome to the NHK! (licensed by FUNimation, S.A.V.E. edition).  Here’s a quick synopsis:

Satou Tatsuhiro, 22 years old, thinks that everything that happens around him is a conspiracy. He even figured out who is behind it all: The NHK, an evil secret company.

“When you think anime, you think otaku. When you think otaku, you think people that dislike other people. Those people become hikikomori (people who shut themselves in)”. So Satou manages to uncover the plot of The NHK (stands for Nihon Hikikomori Kyokai), after three years of shutting himself in (and rapidly approaching the fourth).

 In reality, he is nothing more than a NEET (Not in Employment, Education or Training), desperately in need of a cure from that “disease”. He wants to break out from the curse, but going out and getting a job is frightening enough for him. That is until he gets selected for a “project”; it is a plan to help hikikomori like him in facing the reality of this world. (Source: MyAnimeList)

This show is easily one of my favourite shows, featuring some delightfully messed-up characters, a healthy dose of black humor, and some of the best dub work I have ever heard.  Whoever wins this will truly be winning a gem.

Now, I bet you’re wondering: what exactly is the contest?  Well, dear reader, it’s simple!

Rules:

1. You must like us on Facebook, follow us on Twitter (@FM1397tweet), or subscribe to our newsletter.
2. You must be a resident of the continental United States (sorry, guys; shipping outside the continent/international shipping is too expensive for me).
3. You must submit a written response to the prompt (given below this section) to pensuke@fm1397.com.
4. You may only submit one response.  Provide the name you liked us as on Facebook, your Twitter username, or the e-mail you signed up for the newsletter when sending the prompt.
5. All submissions must be received by 12:00 PST on Friday, February 3rd, 2011 to qualify.
6. When the winner is drawn, Pensuke will e-mail you directly, with both a link to this article (updated with the winning submission) and a request for your name and address to ship the DVDs.

Prompt:

You’re out of your mind.  It has been forever since you have had any contact with people.  You’re a loner, holding yourself in your room and letting your mind waste away day by day.  Suddenly, by a series of strange circumstances, you are thrust back into society.  You find yourself addicted to something, anything.  So much that it’s impacting your re-immersion into society.  Write about this situation, including the addiction and the consequences of this addiction.

Submission rules/guidelines:

1. All submissions must be at least 500 words, and no more than 5,000.  This does not include the title of your submission or any extraneous text in the document.
2. When submitting, you may either paste the entire submission into the e-mail or attach it as one of the following file formats: .doc, .docx, .txt
   
3. No explicit adult (re: 18+) content will be allowed on submissions.  Sorry, but if you graphically describe sexual acts, you will be disqualified.
4. Despite the nature of the prompt, the winning submission will be posted on the site.  Keep this in mind.

Alright, that’s enough from me.  Happy writing, and I can’t wait to see your submissions!

EDIT: WINNER HAS BEEN ANNOUNCED!

I know, it’s been awhile.  However, we have finally announced our winner as…John Joseph!

We had a grand total of two entries, and both of them were fantastic.  If I could give both entries copies, I would, since they both deserve them.  However, with a touching, emotionally-charged story, here is our winner!

“Crap, I missed one!”

She looked ridiculous, hopping along like that from crack to crack. I followed a few footsteps behind, not saying anything. How long had we been walking like this?

I watched as she clumsily arched her legs as far as she could. Clearly the streets of Boston hadn’t been designed for this kind of game. At a normal walking pace it, was practically impossible to put a foot down on each segmented crack in the sidewalk. They were just too far apart.

We continued on like this for some time, cold city air easily finding its way into the confines of my black coat. It chilled my bones and it made my skin crawl. What the hell was I doing out here, anyway?

How did it come to this?

“Hey Kate, where are we going?”

“Does it matter? A loser like you has nowhere else to be, right?”

The comment stung me, but I knew she was right. If I wasn’t out here, I’d probably just be at home staring at my laptop.

Actually, that wasn’t true. I had been on my way to meet someone when I ran into her at the bridge.

I walk by that bridge almost every day, or at least, all the days I go to meet Josh at the park. I walk and I look down at the black, cold, unforgiving water of the river. There hasn’t been a single time I’ve passed it that I haven’t thought about jumping.

I was making one of these nocturnal excursions to the park when I saw her, staring just like I had often done at the water below. I recognized her from afar, but I knew it was my mind just playing trick on me. What are the odds that I’d run into her, and here of all places.

However, there she was, just like I remembered her. As I got closer and closer, I became more and more nervous. I hadn’t prepared for anything like this. I just wanted to pick up from Josh, go home, and drift away.

Forget about everything. About life unwanted, about death inevitable, about my future and my past.

About her.

Yet there she was, and with every step closer a new torrent of emotions and questions rushed through me.  Why was she here? How long had it been? Did she even remember my name?

The doubts grew and the tension in my gut mounted as I got closer and closer.

Just walk by, Chris. Just keep walking along. It’s fucking cold. There’s no reason to keep Josh waiting in the park.

I’ll never forget the look she gave me. She didn’t recognize me at first, I could tell. Who could blame her, after all? I hadn’t had any real human connection in years, so I hadn’t had any reason to care about my appearance.

Plus I punched through my mirror back in August.

At first she gave me an indifferent glance, the same one she probably gave to every set of footsteps that had passed by her that night. She cocked her head to the left, and with a bored and weary expression she moved her gaze along my wretched figure.

Slowly, the memories filled her eyes.

I watched as the indifference turned, only momentarily, to something I wasn’t sure I recognized. Well, I was pretty sure I recognized it; I just didn’t recognize it coming from her. It was something I knew well, something I had grown quite comfortable with in my decrepit lifestyle.

The look of melancholy, desperation, and fear flitted across her face, not long enough to think she wanted me to know, but long enough that I did.

Just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, and I found myself embraced by the girl who had caused me so much grief back in high school.

“Chris, is that really you?”

She buried her face into my chest, as though she expected to find some sort of sanctuary in me. I couldn’t bring myself to say she wouldn’t, so I did nothing, letting her warmth fill me up.

It felt nice.

“It’s been so long. How are you? What are you up to these days?”

The question caught me off guard. What was I up to these days? I guess the first thing I should have mentioned was how the word day barely meant anything to me anymore. My sleep schedule was, in a word, nonexistent, and I barely knew what day of the week it was. Sometimes I’d fall asleep at 6 am, only to wake up at 11:30 at night.

Even when I was awake, the soul crushing boredom just made me want to sleep.

I had taken to filling the boredom by occupying my brain with anything I could find. It was practically impossible to continue living in my sober state of mind, since too many questions keep popping in my head. I think that’s what my problem always was. I thought too much.

Heroin was the perfect cure. I would wake up feeling so terrible, so hopeless, everything so bleak, but with a quick injection I was gone. My gripes with the sorry state of the human condition would melt away, and I wouldn’t have to think about how much of a shithole I had dug myself in to.

“Me? I’ve been working really hard lately. “

“What do you do?”

“Oh…uhh…I do…I work for my dad!”

“You? Really? I always saw you two as such different people.”

“Yeah…me too…”

I told her how, after graduating from the college I actually dropped out of after one semester, I went out looking for work. The economy being how it is, my dad offered me a job working at his office in the city, so naturally I took it. My dad was a guy who believed in merit, though, so he started me off pretty low on the rungs. I was climbing however, and right now I was in the middle of an important project.

“That’s all a lie, isn’t it?”

I was shocked that she saw through me so easily. I thought I was pretty clever, thinking up that story. It was believable, but still made me look like something of a legitimate human being.

“What? No! Just the other day my dad was giving me a hard time for…for…”

She had that look in her eyes, the look that told me to stop wasting my time. It pissed me off so much.

“Come on.” She said with a smile. “Let’s go for a walk.”

So here we were, her still taking those awkwardly long steps along the sidewalk, me trailing behind in silence.

“Crap, I missed one!”

It takes her a moment to find the right rhythm again.

“Hey Kate, where are we going?”

“Does it matter? A loser like you has nowhere else to be, right?”

What the hell did she know? A loser? Yeah right. How could I be a loser if I never lose anything? After all, to fail implies that there was a time where I was willing to try.

She was the real loser. Her and everyone else, selling their souls to get ahead in this god damn rat race people call life. See, in the long run, I was the one who came out on top. I never got hurt.

“So what are you doing, then? What’s big in your life?” I asked her sarcastically.

“Oh, there were a few things.”

“Are you still acting?”

For once, I think I caught her off guard.

It was the Spring of our senior year. I was sitting in the auditorium, one of about a hundred audience members for the last of my high school plays. I never really cared about that stuff, but Kate had gotten the lead role and I wanted to impress her.

We’d known each other since I’d moved a few houses down from her at the start of high school. We were always close, but somehow she always seemed out of my reach. She had a few boyfriends throughout high school, but never anyone I cared for, and certainly no one like me. I was certainly different from the rest of her friends in high school, but Kate was never too proud to hang out with me. Despite being popular and having a lot of friends, she’d spend hours with me sitting around in suburbia, getting high and complaining about the lack of things to do.

It was kind of a sad existence, now that I think about it, but I think I was happy then. I think. I don’t really remember.

Anyway, I was sitting in the audience. Kate was always interested in acting, and it seemed like she thought that was her life’s goal. She had already been accepted to a pretty good performing arts school, and she was going to England in the summer, so this was one of the last times I’d be seeing her before college.

She hadn’t had her big entrance yet, so I was half paying attention to the sophomore yelling about something on stage. Usually the kids who end up with speaking roles like that take it way too seriously, and this one was no different. It was kind of painful to watch. I don’t even remember what the play was about, to be honest.

Then, out of nowhere, the lights dimmed and the loud clang of the spotlight being opened echoed through the silence. The light flowed down in a solid beam, bathing a circular portion of the stage in a pale yellow light. In the center of the circle, she radiated.

She looked like a goddess, wearing a dark, flowing yellow dress that just skirted around her sandaled feet. I think the play was set in Rome, or something, like I said I really don’t remember, but when I saw her she completely took my breath away.

I remember her looking out at the audience, a knowing smile on her face. It was just like the look she gave me before, but this time it didn’t piss me off at all. I wanted to hear her speak, to hear her silky voice wash over me and the rest of the audience. I had seen her practice this part dozens of times before, and I knew exactly what she was about to say.

I waited for it. Me, along with the other students and parents in the audience, held our breath and waited for her to deliver her lines. Suddenly, I began to notice a change in her eyes. The confidence fled from them, and in its place rushed in fear. She stood stiff as a board, looking out into the audience.

Without warning, she ran off of the stage.

I don’t know how long everyone waited. The silence was unbearable. Somewhere, some asshole coughed. I cried on the inside for her. I guess the theater company in my school had some true thespians, because the show started going on without her.

I didn’t care anymore. I got up and walked out the auditorium.

I had to try and find her, to tell her something. I went around to where the back stage entrances were, but her friends in the theater company wouldn’t let me in. They all thought I was a bad influence on her, which might have been true, but seriously, fuck them.

I was pissed. I went outside for a cigarette to calm me down. I wasn’t sure what to do any more, and I had nothing to direct at all the emotions building up inside of me. That’s when I saw her.

She was sitting by herself on the curb, wearing the same stunning dress she had been in on stage. She’d taken the sandals off, and held them by her face as she lounged barefoot on the concrete.

She wasn’t crying. I don’t think I’d ever seen her cry, actually. She was always a pretty strong girl. I could see her smiling at me from the curb, looking like nothing had happened.

“Can I have one of those?” She asked, motioning to my cigarette.

“No can do” I said, sitting down next to her. “They’ll rob you of your voice.”

This got a laugh out of her. “Apparently they aren’t the only things…” she said.

We sat there in silence for a few moments. I tried to look as cool as I could smoking the cigarette, but she just kept staring out into distance. I didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, but she did it for me.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me what happened?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. “

So we stayed there, side by side, looking up at the light blue evening sky and not really saying anything. I finished my cigarette and rubbed it into the curb, tossing the smoldering butt indiscriminately.

“I thought you were amazing.” I believed it, too, though I’m not really sure why I said it.

“I didn’t even get to read my lines.”

She had me stumped there.

“Who cares? You’re already got into acting school anyway, right?”

“Yeah…I guess I did.”

Again, silence. I really had no idea what to say. We sat out on that curb for what seemed like hours. I remember I wanted so bad to tell her that I didn’t care, that it would be all right, that I’d still love her no matter how many of her lines she got choked up on.

I just wanted to hold her tight and make her forget about everything that had happened, to make her smile again.

In the end, though, I couldn’t do anything.

“Are you still acting?”

The cold night air seems so much crueler now than it did all those years ago. The warm spring breeze, teasing children with promises of summer, had given way to howling chills that whipped around city street corners and through dark alley ways. There was nowhere to escape it.

“I had a pretty big audition a few nights ago.”

“Oh yeah? Which play?”

“Some avant-garde rendition of Romeo and Juliet.”

“Wow, Kate, that sounds pretty cool!” I lied. “Which role did you go out for?”

“Juliet.”

“So when do rehearsals start?”

I hadn’t noticed it, but we’d somehow made our way back to the bridge. The bridge where I first saw her, the bridge I passed whenever I had to go meet Josh in the park. Christ, he must be freezing by now.

The black water looked still now, peaceful, like any small disturbance in its smooth surface would be enough to throw the whole world into chaos. She stared downward, into the abyss, like she had been when I saw her standing there. I still hadn’t gotten an answer to my question, but I let it go.

“How long are you in town for?” I asked.

“I was planning on leaving tonight, but I ran into you, so now I’m a little late.”

“You didn’t have to stick around just for me.”

“No, I’m glad I saw you, Chris. This was nice.”

Together in silence, just like old times. I joined her at the railing and looked down into the water below. I could see our reflections staring back up at us, but somehow they looked younger. The bags around my eyes, the messy stubble, the defeated scowl; the smart ass kid who grinned up at me from the icy river had none of these things. She looked beautiful, too, in that flowing yellow dress that was still seared into my mind after so much time had passed. She wasn’t smiling, though. I think that’s when the world ended.

The ripples started to spread, first from her side, then to mine. They started as small circles, flowing outward as the crests and troughs overlapped one another. More and more started to form, tiny little impacts that gradually spread across the entire river.

I looked up and saw her face, beautiful and shining amid the glow of the street lights. The tears dripped down, slowly, rolling over her cheeks and down to her chin. They hung there for a moment before letting themselves fall, down, down into the water where they’d be lost forever.

Our eyes locked, and I saw it again. That look of sadness, of fear, of desperation. Like she was lost in the world and had no one to turn to. The look someone has when they know they can’t win.

Her lips were soft, her body warm and pressed against me. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. I didn’t want to lose her. Not again.

In those few seconds that we stood there, I think I knew her better than I’d ever known her before. All her doubts, all her insecurities, all her dreams, and hopes, and desires, they all rushed into me.

I knew what she was afraid of, I knew why she wouldn’t be rehearsing the part of Juliet, and I knew what made her rush off the stage all those years ago.

I knew why she’d come to the bridge that night.

Time seemed to stand still, for a few moments. We stood there, looking at each other. Time had brought us so far apart, put us through so many trials and tests, made us question the very nature of our existence over and over again.

But we were together now.

My cell phone was buzzing in my jacket pocket. Josh was still probably sitting on that park bench, waiting to take my money so he could finally go home.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” She asked me.

“No.” I said.

Josh could wait.

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