Feel free to go to http://gladstone.uoregon.edu/~matt2518/ where
you'll find episodes of this and my other Boku No Marie story, the
well-received and critically-acclaimed "Music-Box Angel".
Also, visit http://www.honda.co.jp/english/technology/robot/ for
some impressive information on what may be a future Marie's real-
life ancestor! Could our heroine really be so close to reality?
For the sake of convenience in this text format, the two Maries
are spelled differently. Hiroshi's creation is referred Marie,
while the human version is referred to as Mari.
NOTE: This text was produced without the consent of the original
copyright holders, and, while it is intended as tribute, in some
areas it is considered an illegal work.
BACKGROUND: College student Hiroshi Karigari had a problem. He
was in love with Mari, a lovely tennis player at his school, but
couldn't express himself to her. So, he decided to build a
duplicate of her in the form of an android he named Marie.
Now, he has to pass Marie off as his younger sister to keep up
appearances, and things are only getting more complicated. The
ever-lecherous Tanaka, who also has a crush on Mari, has turned
his eye towards Marie as well. Can Hiroshi keep his secret? Can
he find true love? Has he built it already?
OUR STORY SO FAR: April is fast fading into May, and a scant six
days have passed since Marie's encounter with Hitomi (see "Music-
Box Angel" for more regarding Hitomi and her relation to Marie)...
------------ -------- ------ -------- ------------
* * * *
B O K U N O M A R I E
Together Ace
Episode One: Lightning Strikes
The anime (c) 1996 Sakura Takeuchi/Goro Sanyo/Shueisha/
Victor Entertainment/Studio Pierrot
Licensed by Victor Entertainment, Inc., Japan
Released in North America by A.D.V. Films
under the titles "My Dear Marie" (subbed)
and "Metal Angel Marie" (dubbed).
For more information, contact A.D.V. Films at: info@advfilms.com
Boku No Marie: Together Ace (c) 1999 Matthew Johnston
All Rights Reserved
* * * *
Saturday, 4:32 PM.
"Putting me in ecstasy, ooh! Transmitting on my frequency!
Whoa whoa, she's cosmic! Yeah, give it to me. Uh-huh." Hiroshi
Karigari was dancing. More accurately, he was getting funky. At
least, that's what Mari had called it when she had handed him the
CD on Thursday. He had some idea that the band would be able to
achieve an extreme groove, but he had no idea that the beat would
be so infectious as to render him in such a state of boogie.
"This could be a close encounter, I should take care not to
flounder!" To be sure, Hiroshi wasn't completely foreign to this
type of music, though he had come to scoff at it for being overly
simple. But this band was different. They had... he didn't
exactly know what they had, but it was contagious, and now he had
it. Or, at least, he hoped he had it. He was going to need it if
he ever planned on taking Mari to a nightclub.
"Sends me into hyperspace, when I see her pretty face!"
Hiroshi played his phantom bass with reckless abandon. The
funkadelic mothership was calling him, and he was picking up the
phone.
"Hiroshi, there's..." Marie stood in front of the open door,
studying her brother's arrhythmic convulsions. "Are you okay?"
Hiroshi's universe crumbled around him, and he froze, one
hand pointing at nothing in particular, the other to his ear. The
lopsided grin on his face remained, even as his eyes filled and
his cheeks reddened. He could feel himself turning, slowly and
irrevocably, to granite.
The song restarted, apparently on endless repeat. Marie
continued to stand, fascinated by the music flowing like a
champagne cocktail to her ears. "My heart's in zero-gravity?
Hrm." The words, the voice, the beat. It was all too much.
"What the?" Marie peered down to see herself moving, ever-so
slightly, to the music. Her shoulders hopped just so on her
frame, her arms barely bent, jumping in time to the catchy
collection of science-fiction cliches. "What's going on?"
Hiroshi saw his creation moving, and began to regain some
semblance of composure. "You're getting funky."
"Funky? Do I want to get funky?" Her feet were starting to
tap. "I'm not sure if I want to get--"
"Just go with it. Move your hips and arms to the beat."
Hiroshi, upon seeing his sister's first attempt at dance, felt
suddenly eased, and began to move himself. "Like this."
The two began to dance. Marie noticed that, though she was
expending energy on a task that wasn't at all useful, she could
see things about her brother that she didn't notice before. A
quick glance up his body, measured his coordination. She could
almost see his synapses firing as he concentrated on pointing at
the ceiling and gyrating his hips.
"This isn't easy, is it?" she looked in Hiroshi's mirror and
saw a side-view of herself trying to 'get funky'. "I don't think
I'm getting it."
"Just move to the beat," the boy huffed as he continued to
boogie. "It's all about acting sexy."
"Sexy?" Marie filtered through her archives, searching for
images and movements her brother had, either purposefully or
otherwise, deemed sexually appealing. She smiled inwardly when
her search returned almost exclusively images of her model, Mari.
Movements of her hips, legs, arm swings, head shakes, eye blinks
and facial expressions flooded her new array of dance moves.
"Like this?"
Hiroshi's jaw felt an irresistible urge to drop. Which it
did, though he remained in a state of funk while doing so. "Wow."
With an imaginary lariat, he threw and roped the suddenly alluring
android.
"You know, this is kinda fun," Marie giggled. "Step in my
transporter," she sang, stepping closer, "so I can teleport ya--"
The scene froze in Hiroshi's mind. It was perfect. Marie
was learning another human ability, and he was there to witness
it. Even though he and Mari had begun a tentative relationship
which neither really officially acknowledged as such, he was
feeling a pull towards his creation. This feeling, so warm, so
inviting. Was it the moment of heavenly funk, or was it
something... more?
"--All around my heavenly body!" Two Maries sang in almost
perfect unison, and his sublime vision imploded. Again, Hiroshi
froze in mid-boogie. Again, he felt the frigid tendrils granite
crawl up his being.
"Oh, I'm so sorry." Marie stopped dancing and faced her
brother. "I meant to tell you. Mari's here to see you."
"Thank you, Marie," Hiroshi gritted, not entirely pleasant.
"You're welcome," she replied, not entirely serious.
"The song's quite infectious," he finally admitted to Mari.
She nodded, leaning against the door frame, a Cheshire grin
playing on her lips.
"It certainly is. You're not the first to succumb, I can
guarantee." As she entered the room, the first thing she noticed
was the heat. "Wow, you two generate a lot of--"
"Don't say it, please." Hiroshi grumbled, turning off the CD
player. "I'll open the window." As he did so, a lightly scented
spring breeze floated in, cooling the three to a respectable
temperature.
Marie sensed an immediate urgency hovering somewhere between
her brother and his companion. "I'll get some drinks," she
offered. "Would you like some lemonade, Mari?"
"Yes please." The timing was perfect. She wanted to be
alone with Hiroshi, to ask him something personal. But she was
never good at finding a way to excuse the third party without
seeming rude. Her grin turned to a full smile when she heard
Marie descend the staircase. "Now that we're alone..."
Hiroshi was already sitting in his desk chair, but bolted
immediately to a standing position when she half-purred the words.
"Alone?" He glanced around the room. "Y-yes. Yes, we are,
aren't we? What were you meaning to ask me? I am sure I can
accom--" He realized what he might be getting himself into, and
let the word dissipate half-formed.
"Sit down, Hiroshi. I just have a general question to ask
you. About Marie."
"Yes?"
"I got an invitation to play in a tennis tournament
yesterday..."
"Wonderful!" Hiroshi beamed. "It'll be the perfect
opportunity to show the world--"
"--I need a doubles partner in order to enter..." Though she
was pausing, Hiroshi realized she wasn't going to stop talking
until she was finished. "...And I want Marie to be my partner."
Her words reached his ears, practiced and stilted. "Can she make
it through a tournament? Physically, I mean. Will she need to be
recharged in the middle of a set, or can she perform at an
acceptable level throughout?"
"Well," he murmured. "Technically, she can go a full twenty
hours on a charge, but if she has to perform... wait a second."
The implication of Mari's questions started sinking in. "You
should be asking Marie these questions."
"I will, but I need your guarantee that she can play optimal
tennis for an entire tournament. I assume that there's a letdown
in motor control or whatever after a certain amount of time. Can
she go more than one match? Because otherwise I don't think
she'll be of much..." She glanced up. "Marie."
Marie stood in the doorway, serving tray in hand. "Mari,
what are you saying?"
"I want you to be my doubles partner." Something small and
malicious inside Mari's head snapped, and she added, "but only if
you can keep from falling apart on the court. Otherwise, you'll
be of no--"
"--no use. That *is* what you were going to say, wasn't it?
I'm not a tool. Not for you, not for anyone." She used her words
like a spear, and Mari was stricken. Marie set the tray on
Hiroshi's desk and returned to the room's entrance. "I hope you
enjoy your drinks," she intoned simply.
"Marie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said." Mari stood
to approach her, but she disappeared from view, running down the
stairs, and out the door.
"You hurt her feelings." Hiroshi tried to put emphasis on
the last word, but the statement as a whole emerged flat,
despondent. "You just don't get it, do you?" he added, a barb of
irritation growing in his voice.
Mari felt a sudden urge to hit her friend for being so
insensitive, but it was suppressed by an equal urge to have him
slap her for showing the same trait. Words gathered in her closed
mouth, jumbled, pushing to come out, to explain, to rationalize.
With great effort, she swallowed them, and let the silence of the
moment sift between them.
"I'll be back," she finally mumbled, and left.
* * * *
Tanaka was having a rather difficult time understanding the
last week. Hiroshi and Mari were talking as if they were equals,
even closely at times. It was beyond boggling; it was impossible.
But a number of impossibilities had occurred in the last several
days. Though he never made an attempt to reveal his knowledge, he
had seen Marie, and was almost sure of her true nature. Sort of.
It was all so hazy. Portions of memory, jigsaw pieces that
he couldn't fit together logically, swam lazily about in his brain
like so many goldfish. Marie's sudden change of personality, the
kiss they shared for too brief a moment, her reaction to Hiroshi's
return, the black box falling out of her chest. It was all simply
too much for a playboy to think about. Especially with all the
pretty girls shopping today.
The young Casanova grinned, leaning against a white concrete
wall. His location was perfect: just beside a mammoth picture
window separating the fashionable department store's displays from
the public's hands. He always liked the idea of a display -- look
but don't touch. It was the permission thing that always made him
smile. The display had the power to reduce women to giggling
girls, tugging at their mothers' hems. Mother, may I? No, dear,
maybe later.
The sunshine from earlier in the afternoon was beginning to
fade, hidden at random intervals by innocuous clouds, plump, white
without intent. Tanaka turned his eyes from their distant
drifting and tried to remain focused on the game at hand. His eye
darted from one girl to the next. Each had their strong points,
but with each nicely shaped face or slender leg came with it a
host of other problems.
"What are you looking at?" One such girl frowned at Tanaka.
He was immediately stricken. The blonde hair, slightly mussed by
the April breeze. The pleated skirt, reaching just past the
knees, revealing only her sleek calves. The slightly dangerous
glint in her eyes, in her arms, her height. Tanaka felt
challenged: 'you may look now, but you must earn the touch.'
Tanaka loved a challenge.
"You're beautiful," he half-whispered. Despite his vast
library of suggestive, macho-sensitive remarks, the simplistic
truth was the best he could do.
The girl continued to frown. "My beautiful what?"
Whatever composure Tanaka had melted at his feet. "Huh?"
Her frown dissipated, replaced by a hinting smirk. "I
thought so. C'mon, kiddo. Let's have some fun."
"Wha...?"
"You got a car?"
"Right over there." He motioned to the Audi behind her.
"I see," she murmured approvingly. "All right, let's go."
"W-where?"
The girl took one step, and the distance between them
disappeared. The pleats of her skirt fell in behind her, delayed
by the lazy wind. Tanaka could hear his own heart throttle high
in his chest, threatening to leap into his throat. He could smell
the slightness of her courage, an ability he used to use to his
advantage.
Was it so long ago? he thought wistfully. With her beside
him, eyes half closed, mouth shaped so coyly, hands so close, he
could hardly remember a time when she did not exist in his mind.
The moment passed so slowly for him, that he nearly forgot
where the conversation had gone. When she poked the square of his
chest with a poised finger, he emerged from his thoughts.
"Anywhere you want," she whispered, grabbing his hand.
"Hurry up, slowpoke. I don't have all day, y'know." She started
trotting to his car, and he followed, quite nearly floating above
the ground, his infatuation slowly taking over.
And then he saw her.
"Tanaka!" Marie never thought she'd actually try and seek
him out, but he was the only other active member of the tennis
club she knew. If anybody had the answer to her question, he
would.
"Marie?"
The name halted Tanaka's new date where she stood. "Marie?"
Her voice, filled with an odd mixture of fondness and rage, met
the android girl's ears before she saw anything more than Tanaka's
face. Marie stopped as well, and the two girls faced each other,
a scant three meters apart, the distance between packed with their
previous encounters.
"Hibiki," Marie murmured. "You came back."
"Don't worry," Hibiki muttered, turning her gaze back to the
sports sedan. "I'm over him."
"What the? You two know each other?"
Both girls nodded, and Tanaka began to feel the tension
between the two. He glanced at his Audi, and then at Hibiki, and
realized that, until that point, he didn't even know her name.
That fact startled him, but did little to fade the passion
blossoming in his chest. A passion only moments from
consummation.
"Whatever happened, it must have been long ago." Tanaka
chuckled nervously and turned to Hibiki. "Now, Hibiki, where were
we?"
The blonde girl smirked. "We were about to go to a hotel,"
she stated coolly, loud enough for Marie to hear, "and I was about
to rob you blind."
"...Really?" Tanaka blinked, but didn't move. "Whoa."
"You're back to that?" Marie sighed disappointedly.
"It's a living." Hibiki shrugged. "Besides, it's better
than being some poor nerd's baby-sitter."
"Hiroshi..." Somewhere in her consciousness, she wanted to
defend her creator, but found that much of her will to do so had
dissipated when she had heard him and Mari talking so candidly
about her body. "Not anymore." She expected a sarcastic reaction
from her would-be antagonist, but the girl only nodded.
Marie turned to Tanaka. "I came to ask you if you knew where
I could sign up for the tennis tournament next month."
"Oh, Mari told you about it, I see." Tanaka nodded.
"There's an extra entry sheet at the club office."
"Thanks!" With that, Marie ran in the direction of campus,
not as fast as he thought she could run. If she were actually
what he thought she was. But then, if she were trying to hide the
fact... Tanaka shook his head.
"Just fill it out and leave the rest to me!" he called after
her, just before she turned the corner and disappeared. After she
was gone, and a small group of seconds had passed, he peered down
and realized his hand was still being held by Hibiki's.
She must have been looking at it too, because they both let
go simultaneously. Embarrassed, neither dared make eye contact
with the other.
"Sorry about trying to take your money and stuff," Hibiki
finally began. "It's an old habit."
"Heh heh. No problem." Tanaka wished he had something more
of value to say, but again, as he considered his various lines,
none seemed good enough to try on her. "You still wanna go for a
drive? I won't let you take my money, but..."
"Maybe later, kidd-- Tanaka."
Tanaka smiled. "I guess I'll have to see you around then.
For that to happen and all."
"Probably." A pause, then, "it'd be pretty tough otherwise."
"So, yeah." Tanaka climbed into his car and started the
engine. "I'll see you around then."
"Yeah. Later."
"Later."
As Tanaka drove off, to no place in particular, he felt
strange. The conversation had gone nowhere, really: he never
mentioned his phone number or address, nor did he receive hers.
But, unlike other times similar which happened before, this time
did not seem like a failure. And she was... he fought with his
habits to find a word to describe her that didn't seem so stale
and practiced.
He felt something beginning to awaken inside him, yawning,
stretching lazily, awaiting her presence. It moved slowly, arcane
and strange, full of half-formed thoughts and quickly fading
pangs. It lay like a pleasantly warm fog his brain and whispered
as it floated by his ears. It tasted sweet on his tongue and
carried the aroma of ripe and full roses.
"Wow," he whispered, and shook his head. Even when he
thought of Marie, he couldn't conjure such emotion from within.
It was exclusive; Hibiki commanded it. It awoke with her image,
reacted playfully to her every word, and slept when she
disappeared, happily dreaming of her return.
* * * *
6:17 PM
When she arrived at the tennis club office at the University,
Marie found the door unlocked, and ajar just slightly. A comb of
late afternoon light broke on the darkened floor; the lights
inside were off. But she could tell by the excited movement of
the dust within the light that somebody was in there.
With no small bit of trepidation, she entered the room.
Reaching for the lights, she was met with a woman's hand on her
own. Her first thought was defense, and she tensed, ready to
strike back. The owner of the hand felt this movement, and
released Marie from her gentle grip.
"Don't turn on the lights, please." It was Mari.
"I have nothing to say to you," Marie announced coldly,
shutting the door. With the door closed, the room was almost
completely dark; she could hear Mari inhale sharply.
"You know every tennis tournament has a doubles match, as
well as a singles. You came to sign up for the singles
competition, didn't you?" Her voice wasn't accusatory, as Marie
had expected. Rather, she sounded tired. "I don't blame you,"
she continued, her tone regaining its previous edge. "You'd be
guaranteed to win, just because you're a..." She stopped there,
and sighed. "I'm sorry." Marie heard the rustling of hair
against a soft neck; Mari was shaking her head.
In the dark, her sight was muted slightly, but not so much as
to keep her from finding the sheet of paper sitting on the main
table. She walked to it, and sat down to fill out the form.
"It's just that, all of a sudden, you're a completely
different... person. I thought I knew you, but six days ago, I
found out I was wrong."
"You're still wrong."
A pause, then, "What do you mean?"
"I haven't changed." Marie looked up, and saw the shadowed
form of Mari. She had her hands over her mouth. "I'm still the
one you played tennis with last summer. I'm still that girl.
I've never been anything different."
"Marie," Mari started, but the words caught in her throat.
Marie could see a pair of droplets form just above Mari's
inky hands. "Lock the door, and turn on the light."
As Mari did so, the android girl stood.
The human girl watched her mirror image in teary silence.
Marie didn't focus on her, or at anything but the floor. Slowly,
deliberately, she removed her shirt, and the white sports bra
underneath it. She stood, stance at shoulder-width, arms out,
hands stretched, and faced Mari. "This is me. Take a good look."
Mari blinked silently, and tears fell reluctantly from her
eyes. Marie's determined expression helped her rationalize the
careful examination she was giving Marie's body. Ever since she
had seen Marie a week earlier, restlessly sleeping on Hiroshi's
workbench, something had remained in the back of her mind. An
image, foggy, cast in ambiguity between her denial and acceptance.
Marie was an android, but more than that, she was...
Mari yanked her head away, clinching her eyes shut. It was
like she had looked in the mirror and found somebody else acting
as her reflection. The disorientation was too much. There was no
other way to explain why she was starting to see Marie in that
frame of mind.
But her heart.
It pounded as if it would explode.
"Come over here," Marie ordered, "and look me over."
Mari stepped forward, hands shaking, knees weak, and began
speaking, thinking aloud. She thought maybe hearing herself say
the words aloud would help to clear her mind.
"I saw you laid out on Hiroshi's workbench, when you and
Hitomi were... working things out." At the third step, she
arrived at Marie's naked body, and saw in detail a number of
panels she had either forgotten about, or never saw in the first
place. "You were cold to the touch..." A small circular port at
the center of Marie's abdomen, like a metallic belly button, drew
her attention. Motioning a finger towards it, she asked, "May I?"
"Feel free."
Cautiously, she touched her. Marie was warm, and inhaled
sharply as the human girl let her finger wander around its edge.
"You can feel that?"
"I feel everything, inside and out. Just like a human."
"What is it for?"
"It's my external power port."
Mari chuckled. "And here I thought Hiroshi had no sense of
metaphor."
"He's a lot more intelligent than you guys give him credit
for... sometimes."
"Why are you showing me this?"
"You're the only person other than Hiroshi who can even look
at me like this," Marie responded, subdued. "I have to keep all
of this hidden normally."
"I see..."
"If I was a human, I wouldn't have to." Marie's eyes locked
on her model's feet; she was pigeon-toed as well. "I'd do
anything to be a human."
"I'm sorry about earlier." Mari cupped her counterpart's
face in her hands and gently lifted until their gazes met.
"You're a lot more human than you think."
"I just wish sometimes..."
A sudden pang struck her stomach as she fell into eyes that
were so much like her own, tears that reflected her face, lips
open just so, hesitant to speak, but crying out just the same.
She became fascinated, entranced by their subtle reflections.
"May I?" She was so close now...
"Please..." She smelled like Hiroshi, just a little...
Their lips brushed blindly, then pressed gently, comfortably,
into place. Mari closed her eyes, and moved her arms around
Marie's waist.
One second faded slowly into the next, and one more passed
before Marie gently pushed herself away. They stood, half an
arms-length from each other, eyes somewhere between open and
closed. Neither dared speak.
Marie exhaled, paused a moment, then inhaled. Mari felt her
shudder, just a little, as if she were taking in her first
lungfull.
"Thank you," she finally spoke. Mari nodded in return, and
drew her companion close again.
As they embraced, she sighed. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay." Marie pulled back slightly, still in Mari's
arms. "I just wish we could find a way to keep from getting in
arguments like this."
"Don't worry, this sort of thing happens all the time." Mari
smiled gently. "It's very..." She paused, searching for the
right word; her eyes met Marie's again, and she realized.
"...human."
Marie renewed the strength of her hug, and rested her head on
Mari's shoulder. "Thank you."
* * * *
7:48 PM.
"Maria... My dear--"
"Seen it." Hiroshi was watching television.
"The door swings both ways. If we cross..."
"Booo-ring." CLICK!
"We now return to our fifteen hour marathon of Eight-Man..."
"Next!" Hiroshi flipped without apology, seeking something
he knew was impossible to find. Something entertaining. As he
continued to attack the Channel Next button with his thumb, he
reached absently for his bowl of pretzels. But all he felt was an
empty end table.
"What the...?"
Hiroshi took his eyes from the television, and found his
bowl, in Marie's hands.
"You're back." Hiroshi's voice lowered to a wisp of its
former volume.
"You were out of pretzels." She set the bowl down, newly
filled. "We're almost out."
"Are you okay? You still sound a little out of it."
Almost instinctively, Marie's hand went to her lips, touching
gently the spot where she has made such intimate contact with
Mari.
"Marie?"
The girl shook her head, trying to shed her contemplation,
"I'm fine. Just thinking, that's all."
"Did you and Mari talk?"
"...Yes." She looked up, and saw that her response wasn't
doing nearly enough to satisfy her brother's curiosity. "She
apologized, and I forgave her."
"I see. That's good."
"We..." Marie again covered her mouth.
"You what?" Hiroshi asked, munching on a pretzel.
"We... we're going to be doubles partners."
"Good for you!"
"Yeah..." It ate away at her, a nagging at her sleeve.
Something wasn't right about the situation. Something was going
to have to change. "I want to forget."
"Huh?" Hiroshi turned to face her sister. "Forget what?"
"I want to forget how to play tennis. I mean, I don't want
to be able to play so well... I want to learn like a human does."
"I see." Hiroshi nibbled thoughtfully. "I designed your
adaptive systems to make you superior in code-change to all but
the greatest humans."
"I know." Marie sat down in the recliner across from her
brother and sighed. "and I thank you for that. But, if I don't
lose that ability, I'm going to be... cheating."
"Oh. I get it now." Hiroshi smiled. "You've got a good
heart. I'll get to work on it."
Marie blushed, just a bit. "Thank you." Even though she
heard Hiroshi's words, she couldn't help but place Mari's voice
over them. It sounded like something she'd say.
Marie's blush deepened, and again she brought her fingers to
her lips. She inhaled as if to speak, but said nothing, only
smiling as she blew gently on her fingers, kissing them,
surreptitiously trying to recreate Mari's petal-soft lips.
"Now, I think it's possible to deactivate those routines,"
Hiroshi mused, blithely unaware of Marie's detached state, "but
you'd have to figure out some other way to learn." He snapped his
fingers and beamed. "Of course! I'll just modify the routines,
dumb them down a little. After all, your learning algorithm is
based heavily on the psychological studies of the human mind as it
learns, specialized to accentuate your keen visual and aural
senses..."
Marie stood vacantly, and started wandering upstairs, hand
still at her mouth. "Can you change them by tomorrow?"
"Sure. Say, Marie?"
The girl turned her eyes back down to her brother. "Yeah?"
Hiroshi paused, then shook his head. "Nothing. Get some
rest, or whatever you were going to do."
"Okay." She resumed her slow ascension.
"I'll be in the lab if you need me."
Marie lifted her free hand in acknowledgment.
"What's going on in your head?" Hiroshi asked in a whisper,
after she had disappeared from view. A long breath of a moment
moved across the room, subduing his thoughts.
"Whatever it is, I hope she can handle it." He shook his
head again, more from the subtle confusion falling on his brain
than anything else. "Now," he turned back to his pretzels,
grabbing the bowl like a golden idol. "There is nothing you can
possess, that I cannot take away!" He laughed, somewhere between
benevolent and maniacal, and trotted towards the basement
stairway. "Or, at least modify using my superior intellect!"
Marie lay on her bed, finding patterns in the ceiling's
drywall. She found that, depending on the events of the day, she
could stare at the swirling randomness, and maybe find the
thoughts of the man who put the strokes there originally. At
other times, the game was entertaining, an interesting exercise in
developing some semblance of creativity.
"But... even my creativity is a routine." Rolling over, she
stared across the room at her diary; it sat precariously at the
top of a small stack of library books, mocking her from the far
end of the desk. Despite her battery's perfectly normal levels,
Marie found the prospect of leaving her bed's subtle softness
somewhat unappealing. It seemed suddenly as if it were a league
away. But, as she sat up, she felt something that drew her to it.
"I need to return those soon," she mused, glancing at the
laminated 'Frankenstein', 'The Key', 'I, Robot' and 'Catch-22'.
As she read them off mentally, she became particularly self-
conscious. "I guess I've kinda been stuck on the subject."
Marie stood and tread barefoot until she could reach the book
with her longest reach. The chill of the wood beneath her shot up
her legs. She supposed that, if she were able, she'd be getting
goosebumps at this point.
As she retreated to the warmth of her bed, she snatched a pen
from the near edge of the desk, and flipped open her tome of
personal history.
"April 23rd," she spoke as she wrote it. "What next?" she
mused. Again, she felt the change, tugging lightly at her mind,
pulling her somewhere just to the left of her usual course. She
knew why, but, simultaneously, she didn't. Not with the same
clarity she was usually able to ascertain reasons for actions. It
played with her logic's vision; the edges blurred, and though they
didn't seem to do so unnaturally, she couldn't help but think some
remnant of a more mischievous presence was beginning to emerge
from a week-long slumber.
As this thought captured part of her, another piece was drawn
to a phrase.
"May I?"
And then it hit her.
And she wrote. Furiously. Scribbles, not so well-formed as
her normal writing. Words, once disconnected, now associating
themselves. Five pages in all, the sum of two minutes time.
As the moment faded, and she returned from her digression,
Marie looked back on what she had written, and felt almost as if
she were reading it for the first time.
"This..." Marie flipped back and forth among the words
written, checking for the signs. She saw them, and began to
realize what she had just done.
"This is a poem."
------------ -------- ------ -------- ------------
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
I welcome you to my Boku No Marie story for 1999, "Together Ace".
I'm having a blast writing it, and I'm glad that my return to
fanfic is a Boku No Marie fic. The characters just feel so
comfortable. ^_^
With any luck, the new intensity I've found has made it to the
page, and to you. More so than with my previous efforts, I'd
really like to hear your feedback about "Together Ace", as it's
possibly a turning point in the way I approach and implement a
story idea.
I'd like to thank my pre-readers, R. Alexander Spoerer, Phillip
Masters, Patrick McClanahan, Sebastian Fitsroy and Henrique
M. Holschuh. They all proved equally invaluable in my quest
for a better fanfic.
Now, on to the ever-present references:
"Putting me in ecstasy, ooh!": The song Hiroshi's getting down to
is Jamiroquai's "Cosmic Girl", from their breakthrough album
"Traveling Without Moving".
"Hibiki, you came back.": Hibiki Kennou disappeared from Hiroshi's
life at the end of Episode 2 of the OAVs. My continuity picks up
a little more than nine months after Episode 3 (which was roughly
August), making Hibiki's absence almost a year long.