Public (and private) C&C is welcomed with open arms. I'd
really love to know what you think of the story. If you'd
like to e-mail me, you can at: matthew@kingdomofmel.com
Go to The Cafe Pierrot for the Sunshine Girl archive:
http://www.kingdomofmel.com/cafe-pierrot/
* * * *
"Ichiro, I..." Caravan wanted to qualify the kiss, to
lessen its significance; she was feeling something from him
that she'd never expected. Something tragically genuine.
"Ichiro?" She stepped back; he wasn't moving. His eyes
closed, lips pouting, head tilted, he looked expectant.
"Wake up. You look ridiculous." With two fingers, she
pushed Ichiro in the chest.
The boy fell backwards, body stiffened in its position, and
hit the floor with a dull thud.
"Oh jeez, I did it," she sighed, only mildly disgusted at
herself. "I killed the poor moron."
Kenji Terada had writer's block. When his teacher offered
him a solution, he tried it immediately. Only, his teacher
never told him what really happens after you wake up...
------------------------------------------------------------------
I T ' S A R A I N Y D A Y
S U N S H I N E G I R L
Episode 07
"Scenes From A Memory"
"It's A Rainy Day Sunshine Girl" (c) 1999-2001 Matthew Johnston.
All Rights Reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters
to any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Laughter was the first memory to resurface...
"Childhood remains forever,
A wave laughing on the shore;
Memories long gone return,
Changed by their time at sea."
--Nabiki Akato's Diary
Graduation Night
March, 1975
"Well, ladies," Enchant announced, an unusual amount of cheer in
her voice. "Tonight's our last night."
Focus and Cynic nodded, the latter more slowly than the
former.
The school courtyard, decorated in crepe paper and balloons,
waved to the rhythm of the warm spring breeze that seemed to make
the celebration around them more ethereal than simply another
human celebration. Cynic inhaled, trying to absorb Enchant's rare
smile, and the floating laughter and jubilant voices around them.
She exhaled slowly, trying not to sigh, but not quite succeeding.
Focus put her hand on Cynic's shoulder. "Don't feel bad,
Cynic." She paused as a group of giggling girls from classroom 3C
strolled by, well within earshot of the conversation. "It's
normal to feel this way when it's time to leave."
"I shouldn't have come here," Cynic murmured. "What if Takeo
sees me?"
Enchant's chuckle floated above the rest of the happy din.
"By the time he shows up, we may already be gone."
"It's not like can choose our time to leave," Focus added.
"When it's time to go, we'll be gone, and I doubt if we'll be
remembered much longer than a few moments."
"It isn't fair..." Cynic had become accustomed to the phrase
lately. It seemed nothing had been fair on this particular
assignment. "He doesn't even have a muse."
"That doesn't mean you can't watch him," Focus reminded.
"From time to time, that is."
"Oh brother." Enchant exhaled hard, obviously exasperated.
"He's a *human*, Cynic. He's not a Kindred Spirit." Cynic could
hear her sister's high heels click on the cement as she paced
behind her. "Hell, he's not even fated for anything!" Cynic
could see Enchant moving into her field of view; the grin on
Enchant's face made Cynic's blood boil.
"You didn't work with him like I did," Cynic growled. "He's
so much more than his schedule makes him out to be."
"No, Cynic, he isn't!" Enchant stepped in so close their
shoes touched. In her high heels, Enchant was a full seven
centimeters taller. "He's just another empty can that's going to
be kicked around for the rest of his life!"
Cynic clenched her fists. "Call him that again, and I'll--"
"--You'll what? Fight for him?" Despite her words, Enchant
took a large step back. "In a bit, you'll disappear, and by
tomorrow, he'll have forgotten you ever existed."
"Not if I tell him."
Enchant's shook her head. "You wouldn't."
"So what if I did?" Caravan sneered. "It's not like you
don't bend the rules."
"At least I don't bend them over a boy like some lovesick
erotic Fantasy. If you want to play love games, why don't you
change departments and let the professionals do their work?"
"Better a lovesick Fantasy than a withered up, elitist
bitch!"
"What did you say?!" Enchant clenched her fists.
"You heard me." Cynic took a half-step back, her fists
chest-high. "Withered up. Elitist. Bitch."
"Oh, it's ON!" Enchant rolled her neck, as if she were a
boxer beginning Round One.
Cynic motioned with her hands to taunt her sister. "Quit
talking and BRING IT!"
Somewhere in the distance, a bell rang.
"Girls!" Focus stepped between the two sisters as they
charged, fists already flying in half-thrown punches. "Stop
this!"
Cynic felt her momentum dissipate as her fist connected with
something. Her eyes half-closed, she didn't see where she'd hit
until she tried to pull her fist back to go for another punch.
She pulled, but her fist stayed where it was.
Cynic's jaw dropped.
In each hand, Focus held a clenched fist belonging to her
sisters. Her grip was strong, much stronger than the force behind
the punch that had landed in her palm. And, as the two strained
to free themselves, Focus stood unfazed, her breathing slow and
deliberate.
Cynic looked past Focus, and saw Enchant, her eyes wide, her
mouth hanging open. Cynic suddenly remembered herself, and closed
her mouth.
Even with her hard expression, and her arms separating the
straining combatants, she still managed a soft voice. "This is a
celebration. I don't want my last memory of this place to be
peeling you two off of each other while the rest of the school
watches."
Slowly, Cynic and Enchant backed away, keeping their venomous
gazes on one another.
"Good." Focus cracked her knuckles pleasantly, eliciting a
shiver from her sisters. "Now, let's see if we can have a little
fun before we have to say goodbye."
With a small, dark glance to Cynic, Enchant followed. A few
moments later, and a few steps behind, Cynic followed her sisters
into the happily mingling crowd of new high school graduates. She
did not try to catch up.
* * * *
As their lips parted, Nabiki inhaled sharply, as if she'd not been
breathing through the entirety of the kiss. When she opened her
eyes, she saw Kasumi sitting in her chair, but leaning close.
Expectance swam in the woman's eyes, but she said nothing. It
took several moments before Nabiki was able to shake off the last
layers of disorientation.
"That was..." Nabiki paused, straining for the words. With
so much now flooding her head, words were difficult at best. She
felt like she was high, or hallucinating. The thought that Kasumi
had slipped her LSD through the kiss brought a laugh she hadn't
expected to be so loud. "Kasumi, what did you do?"
"You remember the graduation party for Rumiko's class, don't
you? The fight between you and Enchant?"
Nabiki nodded dumbly.
"Do you remember saying goodbye to Takeo? Do you remember
crying for him as you disappeared from his memory?" Kasumi hung
her head, shifting her tea cup in its saucer. "That's a memory I
wish I'd forgotten myself."
Though flashes of the memories had resurfaced, it wasn't
until Kasumi mentioned them directly that Nabiki felt them fully
rise from the blackness they'd been buried beneath.
"Takeo..." She'd lost him once. She'd buried him, and let
his spirit go. He was gone from her too soon for any man to be
gone from their wife. Now, as her past played itself over...
"Please remember, sister Cynic. Close your eyes and remember
who you were."
* * * *
The second memory to resurface was soaked with tears...
"I cannot lose him. When I hold him I feel a drive,
an impetus beyond any other to keep him with me,
and to love him above all things in this world."
--Nabiki Akato's Diary
"I never asked you what college you would be attending," Takeo
barely managed as he stared at his shoes. Cynic could see his
hand shaking, the waves of punch lapping against the edges of the
plastic cup. "I should have asked. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Cynic whispered. She tried to will herself to
stop speaking, as if staying silent would hide her from the
impending return home, and prolong her moment with him. "I wasn't
offended."
"No, I should have asked because..." He paused, and Cynic
wondered if he was trying to prolong the moment as well. She
could see him fidgeting, his dress pants freshly pressed but still
a little too big, his jacket and shirt crisp, but uncomfortable on
him. He wiped the back of his neck and tried again to finish his
sentence. "Because I would have applied there. Only there."
The realization hit Cynic like a train. "Ta...ke...o..."
She tried to steel herself, but it was too late now. A spill of
tears splashed her face, and she covered her face with her hands,
trying to hide them. "I..." What felt like an ocean wave hit
her, and her knees weakened. "I love you!" Again the wave hit,
and she collapsed to the ground, her face wet with tears. She
sobbed, not even trying to hold herself back now. Soon, it would
be done. Now, she had to move quickly.
She felt his hands on her shoulders, and she looked up at
him, at his face. In the dim lamplight, she saw the tips of tears
on his cheek. He was smiling, softly, more confident than he'd
ever been in the weeks she had known him.
"Nabiki..."
In the back of her mind, she felt it. The pressure of
darkness. Muffled echoes of distant voices, and sandled footsteps
on marble. She smelled the incense burning far away, and gasped.
"Takeo!" Her eyes wide with terror, she grabbed his shoulders and
stood up. "Takeo, I have to tell you something!"
"Wh-what?" The softness in his face dissolved into
confusion. "What more is there to say?"
The echoes grew louder with each measured footstep. Cynic
froze, her brain too addled to think coherently. There was too
much -- too much fear, too much desire -- to speak. Her lips
frozen shut, her tongue useless, she hardened herself, and did the
only thing she could think to do.
She kissed him.
For a second, the echoes stopped, and the darkness behind her
lightened again. She felt a rush, then a slow, cool calm. It
warmed inside her, and when it felt white-hot in her heart, almost
painful to experience, she instinctively let it go. She felt it
flow from her lips into his, pushing into him.
For a second, she concentrated her will on filling him with
all she could muster. Every stray thought, every good idea she
ever had been blessed with, she gave to him. There was no visual
metaphor she could conjure to experience this in; it was too much
to try and communicate with him as well. The electricity of the
movement, the flame of ideas pouring from her, was more than
enough. Though it was pleasure that filled the growing vacuum
inside her, it was duty that continued to push her soul from her.
For a second, she remembered the last lesson she learned
before her assignment. She watched it as if watching a television
from a great distance. The lesson of Clearlight. The Last Gift.
She smiled as she saw Sister Majesty give the lesson, sternly
warning that it was within every muse to give the gift, but only
once, and never in the heat of passion. Cynic pushed the lesson,
and the thrill of disobeying such a direct warning, through her
lips into Takeo's.
For a second, it looked like it would work. For a second,
anyway.
Before her eyes opened all the way, and before their lips had full
parted, Cynic felt the full force of the pressing darkness. The
aroma of home in her nostrils, the pounding of footsteps in her
ears, the hands pulling her body backwards. Before she knew it,
she was falling backwards. She saw Takeo gaze at her helplessly,
obviously confused but aware enough to reach for her.
There was a resounding 'crack!' Then a wave of pain that
made her suddenly nauseous. She saw Enchant and Focus looking
down at her, the former apologetic, the latter sympathetic. Then
blackness overwhelmed her.
* * * *
Nabiki sobbed into her hands. "Why are you doing this to me?" she
screamed at Focus, no longer caring if she woke Kenji up. Maybe
he could stop her from remembering. As if to mock her, the back
of her head where it hit the concrete so many years ago throbbed
painfully.
"I'm so sorry, sister Cynic." Focus wanted to hold her as
she cried, but dared not.
"Don't you DARE call me that name," Nabiki snarled through
her tears. "Why are you showing me these... these..." She wanted
to call them lies, hoping that denying them in word would remove
them from her head. But when she tried to say the word, it
refused to leave her throat. "I hate you!"
"Calling you Cynic is no different than calling you Nabiki.
You are both."
Nabiki did not speak; words had left her, replaced by
shifting, indistinct thoughts, angry and vengeful. Her tears
stopped flowing, and slowly she uncovered her face. She looked at
the woman she'd once called Kasumi, her mind suddenly blank and
dark. After a long moment, the woman met her gaze, her eyes
reflecting the same sympathy as Kasumi's last memory.
"I need you to remember."
"Why?" Nabiki was surprised by how calm she sounded.
"Because something very dire is going to happen, and we need
your help stopping it."
"What you think is dire doesn't concern me. I'm not a muse
anymore." The details of her newly surfaced memories shook
themselves clean. "I gave Takeo the gift of Clearlight. After
that, I stopped being a muse."
Focus stood, and stepped behind her chair. She leaned on it,
an action Nabiki found instantly familiar. Her stance seemed to
characterize her so well: relaxed, authoritative, motherly.
"Under normal circumstances, you'd be right."
Focus moved smoothly, as if her feet didn't exist, and she
was floating inches above the floor. She stopped behind Nabiki's
chair, and put her hands on Nabiki's shoulders. Nabiki wanted to
shake them off, but even while she was angry at her, she also
missed that contact Focus had so often made years ago, and
welcomed it.
"What do you mean?"
"Close your eyes one more time, sister Cynic, and remember."
* * * *
The third memory resurfaced from beneath waves of pain...
"We are alone now. If I had strength left, I would
regret his passing, but I have drained myself with
tears and distraction. There is nothing left save
the memories that mock my love for him."
--Nabiki Terada's Diary
It took a number of conscious moments before Cynic could open her
mouth to speak. Her head felt as if it would explode at any
second, throbbing with her heartbeat like a ticking timebomb.
"Ta-Takeo?" The last word in her mind surfaced on her lips.
If she was in a hospital, he'd be there. At least, she hoped so.
"It's okay," a woman in the room whispered. "Just rest. You
took a nasty spill."
The pain was getting worse as she spoke, but she had to ask.
"Where am I?" If she was still on Earth, then it wasn't too late.
She could talk to Takeo. She could finish what she'd started, and
they could be together. If she was still on Earth, it was going
to be okay after all.
"Cynic, dear, you're tired, and need your rest."
"C-cynic?" Her own name stabbed her. "Did you call me--"
"--You're home now, Cynic."
"No..." It was all over now. "Please, no..." Through the
searing strikes of pain, she felt the wetness of tears. "NO!"
The young muse sobbed into her hands, wordlessly lamenting her
loss. Everything she'd sacrificed in that one move, that one
kiss. It was all gone now. Her ability as a muse, Takeo's
memories of her, all those ideas, all those possibilities, an
entire life together, all gone now.
"...all gone now..."
"But you are wrong."
Cynic peeked from behind her hands. Sister Majesty stood at
the arched doorway, tall, regal, but subdued by the moment.
Between her sniffling waves of tears, Cynic managed, "Wh-
what?"
Cynic could see the elder sister smile softly. "It may seem
dire today, but you are young still."
Cynic shook her head slowly. "But, I gave him--"
Sister Majesty motioned with her hand, and Cynic cut herself
short. "You are young, Cynic." She stepped to Cynic's bed, and
sat on the edge. "You will heal."
"You mean...?"
"You will inspire again. With time, and effort, you will
return to your abilities." Cynic's elder leaned in close, and
kissed her gently on the forehead. For a moment, her pain
subsided. "Sleep now."
"Sister Majesty," Cynic managed, her involuntary sobs finally
subsiding. "I don't want to heal."
The words made Sister Focus pause. "I do not mean to be
cruel, child, but Takeo has forgotten you. Please do not carry a
burden for a memory you too should leave behind."
Cynic inhaled as if to speak, but did not.
"Sleep now, my lovely Cynic." Sister Majesty's voice, her
smile, put Cynic at ease, just a little. "You are destined for
greater things."
Cynic nodded slowly. "Yes, Sister Majesty." She closed her
eyes before her teacher stood.
Cynic was asleep before she heard the last of Sister
Majesty's footsteps echoing in the hall.
It was early in the morning, a full hour before the waking knell,
when Cynic roused Focus from her sleep.
"What is it?" Focus whispered, her voice equal parts concern
and annoyance.
"I need your help."
Focus sat up, the depth of Cynic's voice drawing her fully
from sleep. "Help with what?"
"I'm going back."
"You're delirious, Cynic." Focus muttered. "Go back to bed."
"I'm serious." Cynic scarcely raised her voice. "I'm going
back and I want you to make me forget."
"I can't do that." Focus looked past Cynic to the hall. If
any of the older sisters heard them...
"Yes you can, Focus. We took the same lesson from Sister
Traffic..."
"No, Cynic." Focus crossed her arms, and attempted a stern
expression. "I won't do it."
"Why not?"
"You're..." Focus sighed. "Remember when you and I played
like we were mach-speed racers?"
Cynic nodded. "By the forest." There a small pause. "I'm
sorry, Focus."
"It's okay." Focus's expression softened when she heard the
first small sob. "Come here." She wrapped her arms around her
sister. On her shoulder, she heard a whimper, and felt tears. "I
don't want to lose what *we've* had. The memories *we* made
together."
Cynic pulled away from the hug, and wiped her eyes. "I'm
sorry. I shouldn't have asked you."
"It's okay, really." Focus tilted her head slightly, and
smiled. "Now, get back to bed. You'll feel better after some
more rest."
Cynic nodded. "Okay..."
With that, she stood, and tiptoed out of her sister's room.
It wasn't until she was well out of earshot of the room that she
heard a voice behind her.
"I heard what Focus told you."
Cynic spun around, the life nearly shocked out of her. "Co-
Copia?"
The young muse nodded. "You enjoy the memories you have of
your childhood here, don't you?"
"Yes..."
"...but?" Copia prompted.
"But... I don't know, Copia." She shook her head. "I really
fell in love down there."
Copia smiled, so softly and so kindly, Cynic felt suddenly
warmed. "I know, Cynic. I'm here to help you."
"You'll make me forget ever being a muse?"
Copia's face, almost entirely hidden underneath her long,
straight hair, seemed to reflect none of the light filtering in
from the pre-dawn horizon. Something in Cynic's being felt
colder.
"Yes, my dear Cynic," she murmured, her voice deep and
resonating. "I promise."
* * * *
"You were betrayed, Cynic." Focus sounded so distant, even though
she was so close. "Copia gave you what you wanted, but for her
own gains."
"I don't regret the decision," Cynic managed hoarsely.
"With you gone, she moved to the head of the class quickly.
She and I were both nominated for positions as teachers, a
position I would have shared with you, Cynic."
"That's all? That's Copia's big betrayal?" Cynic shrugged
her shoulders, and Focus removed her hands in response. "If
that's what you came to remind me of, that's hardly worth the
trip."
Focus returned to her seat, and sighed as she sat. "I wish
it were that, Cynic, but it's much worse. Kenji?"
From the stairwell, Cynic heard a crash and a yelp, then a
meek, strained, "Yes, ma'am?"
"Go fetch Caravan for me, please. What I have to say
concerns her as well."
Suddenly reminded of her humanity, Cynic turned to Focus with
a withering look. "You've involved my son and his friend in
this?"
Focus took a sip of the coffee. "I did not involve your son
in this. I respected your privacy for 25 years, Cynic, even when
it hurt me to do so."
"Then who--"
"--Copia."
* * * *
"Caravan, wake up!"
The lump underneath Kenji's comforter rolled a little and
groaned. "Wha..?"
"A strange woman just kissed my mom and made her cry and my
mom called her Focus and they kissed and the woman told me to get
you because this really bad thing she made my mom remember
concerns you too and MY MOM KISSED ANOTHER WOMAN!"
"Sister Focus is here?!" Caravan jumped out of bed, the
sheets sliding off her skin as she stood, fully naked, in front of
Kenji.
"Oh god, my nose!" Kenji ran out of the room. A moment
later, Caravan heard the bathroom door slam shut.
With a sigh, Caravan found her pile of clothes on the floor,
and dressed. "What a pervert." She did smile when she caught a
glimpse of herself dressing in the darkened window's reflection.
"Though, who could blame him?"
With a wink to her reflection, Caravan trotted out of the
bedroom. When she got to the stairwell, she heard the voices in
the dining room and remembered why she got dressed.
"Sister Focus?" Caravan asked at the bottom of the stairwell.
She almost didn't recognize her without her normal robe and
sandals. "Is everything okay?" She wanted to ask if she was in
trouble, but didn't want to be so direct in from of Kenji's
mother.
"Caravan," Focus smiled warmly, but Caravan could see the
concern in her eyes. "Please, have a seat."
"Where's Kenji at, dear?" Kenji's mother asked kindly.
"He's in the bathroom, ma'am." Caravan blushed despite
herself. "He'll just be a second."
"Caravan, in the meantime, I want to introduce you to someone
you may have heard of."
"Oh?" Caravan squinted at Kenji's mother, wondering who she
could possibly be.
Kenji's mother gave Caravan an embarrassed smile.
"This is Sister Cynic, a contemporary of mine when I was your
age."
Caravan's eyes grew wide, and her jaw went a little slack.
"*THE* Sister Cynic?"
Cynic blushed deeply. "You've been talking about me, Focus?"
"Sister Focus used to tell us stories about you and how you
sacrificed everything you had to live on Earth."
"Really now..." Cynic murmured, turning her eyes to Focus.
"I would think a story like that wouldn't be good material for a
young muse to hear."
"Oh no, ma'am." Caravan's voice dripped sincerity. "Sister
Focus said we should never be so stupid as to give up what we do
just for a human." Caravan blinked suddenly, and went flush.
"That is... wait a second."
Cynic rapped her fist lightly on the table. "Did she, now?"
Caravan was no longer listening, instead staring past the two
older sisters at the refrigerator. The back of her head began to
throb, almost painfully, and she rubbed instinctively. "Sister
Focus?"
"Yes, dear?" the older muse grumbled through gritted teeth.
"This is kind of hard to explain, but I think Sister Enchant
wants to talk to you."
Focus cocked her head. "You're in contact with her?"
"Yes, ma'am." In the back of her head, she felt the pressing
again. "Oh. Here she is, ma'am."
"Umm, okay." Focus shook her head, but kept her eyes on
Caravan as her eyes went glassy, and her expression blank. The
girl's posture went stiff, and she stood suddenly, knocking the
chair to its back on the floor. A sudden inhale, and she began to
glow from the inside, a dull blue light that flowed from her eyes
and off her skin like a thick haze.
Focus stood slowly and leaned forward. "Enchant? What's
wrong?"
"IT HAS STARTED." Though Caravan had opened her mouth, her
lips did not move, and the voice booming from her came less from
her mouth than from the center of her being. "FURY ATTACKED.
NEED NEW HOST. IT HAS STARTED IT HAS STARTED IT HAS STARTED."
As the final words left Caravan's lips, the glow faded
slowly. Her eyes closed, and her body went limp. Before she fell
to the floor, she managed to catch herself on the table.
Unsteadily, she rose from her knees to her feet, her breathing
ragged.
"S-sister Focus...?" Caravan lifted her head, trying to keep
steady. "I don't feel so good." With that, she finally collapsed
in a heap. Cynic slid out of her chair and knelt beside the girl.
"Poor thing," she murmured. "Focus, what's going on?"
"This is sooner than I had expected."
"What do you mean, 'sooner than you'd expected?'" Kenji asked
from the bottom of the stairwell.
"Come here, Kenji, and help us move Caravan to the couch."
Focus sighed. "I blame myself. If I'd had the power to remove
Copia earlier, this never would have happened."
"Umm, the couch might be a bad place to put her." Kenji
grinned sheepishly. "See, Ichiro's sleeping there right now."
Kenji's mother frowned. "Kenji, what have I told you about
asking permission before inviting friends over?"
"I'm sorry mom, but he's actually kind of unconscious. See,
Caravan kissed him and--"
"She WHAT?!" Both women screamed in unison.
"She said it was because he was being a pervert, and she just
wanted to put him out of commission for a little bit. But he's
still alive, so don't worry."
Focus shook her head. "Okay then, let's get her to the
carpet at least. She's not going to feel very good when she wakes
up."
Kenji sighed as he walked to Caravan and kneeled by her
shoulders. "A high school kid shouldn't be moving his friends'
bodies around like this," he huffed. He grunted a little as he
and Focus lifted Caravan and began to move her to the living room
carpet. "I feel like an undertaker."
"Don't complain in front of our guest, Kenji," Cynic chided.
"It's rude."
"Sorry, Mom."
Cynic smiled proudly. "That's my boy."
Focus and Kenji laid Caravan on the floor in front of the
couch, where the carpet was softest.
"Hope Ichiro doesn't roll over," Focus commented.
Kenji stifled a laugh.
Focus turned to the small family and frowned. "I shouldn't
be so glib," she apologized. "Kenji, Cynic, I will tell you why I
came for you, but this will change the course of your lives
irrecoverably."
Cynic stepped behind Kenji, and put her hands on her son's
shoulders. "We're ready."
Kenji nodded hesitantly.
Focus cleared her throat. "Enchant's words tonight can mean
only one thing. Invasion."
* * * *
"What fate I was given is not mine to see, but to
create with my own hands. I suppose that is the
nature of inspiration."
--Takeo Terada's Diary
April, 1975.
Forty-five minutes of class, with one hundred students all
scribbling in their notebooks. The first term of the new school
year. So any possibilities. So many opportunities, if one was
disciplined enough to take advantage of them.
Takeo sighed. Even though it was Intro to Engineering, he
knew he should be paying more attention to class than this. This
early into the term, and he was already losing his disciplined
nature. He looked down at his notebook. Another doodle. This
time, it was a pair of eyes. Before that, a girl's hand. Before
that, he'd written a poem. A poem! He'd never written a poem in
his life.
But why now? He'd never shown any signs of being anything
but level-headed. No stray daydreams that he couldn't build later
on, no walking around with his head in the clouds. He had a
certain pride in his feet of clay, even if it did make him a
little less flashy.
But now... he was losing it, and he didn't know why. 'Maybe
after class,' he thought, 'I'll call Rumiko up and ask her
opinion.' Rumiko was an artist; maybe she could tell him why he
was being tortured with these strange flashes of... inspiration?
As class let out, Takeo walked slowly, preoccupied with the
pair of eyes he'd drawn. Who could they belong to? Why on earth
was he drawing random body parts of a girl he'd never met?
Takeo shook his head. "There has to be a logical
explanation."
"Far be it from me to be so bold," a voice responded from
beside him. "But talking to yourself could be considered a sign
of madness."
Takeo looked over, face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm
sorry, I--" He saw them instantly.
Her eyes.
Takeo nearly fell over trying to reach into his backpack to
take out his notebook. When he finally had wrestled it from the
pack, he tore open to the page. "Please, hold still for a
moment."
The girl stood still, looking curiously at Takeo as he held
the notebook beside her face, comparing his drawings with the
strange girl.
"This is incredible!" he shouted, to no one in particular.
"Can I see your hand?"
Before the girl could answer, he grabbed her hand and placed
it on the page. She looked down, and saw what Takeo was seeing.
It was a perfect match.
"I assume you have a glass slipper for me now?" the girl
smirked.
"I... huh? No, sorry, miss. This is incredible. What's
your name?"
"Nabiki Akato. What's yours?"
"This is amazing! I'm psychic!"
The girl's smirk grew to a grin. "If you're so psychic," she
replied. "How come you didn't know my name?"
"Uhh..." Takeo flushed again, and rubbed his neck
instinctively. "Maybe you're right. But you have to admit, this
is a pretty amazing coincidence."
"True enough," she nodded. "But you still haven't answered
my question."
"Oh, yes. I'm sorry." Takeo grinned sheepishly. "My name
is Takeo Terada."
Nabiki nodded slowly, as if the name had some great
importance to her. "Takeo..." there was a long pause as she
considered the name. "That's a nice name."
Before Takeo could respond, she spoke again. "I'm walking
back to my dorm. Care to join me?"
Takeo nodded dumbly.
"Wonderful!" Nabiki beamed, and grabbed Takeo's hand. "It's
this way."
Takeo wondered as he half-ran, half stumbled behind the girl
he'd just if perhaps fate was playing some strange joke on him.
------------------------------------------------------------------
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
A dimensional invasion? A motherly muse? Two unconscious bodies
in the living room? It could only be the third week of It's A
Rainy Day Sunshine Girl's new season!
If you're new, or have forgotten some of the nuances of the story
(even I had to re-read it from Episode 01 when I finally started
writing it again), you can find the Sunshine Girl archive here:
http://www.kingdomofmel.com/cafe-pierrot/
It is a temporary locale until I can get Cafe Pierrot back up and
running at a proper URL.
The obligatory Star Wars reference is here, another one from The
Phantom Menace. Should be pretty easy to find this time around.
I have to say, it was a little difficult compressing the emotion
of what would be 13 episodes of another series into 5000 words,
but I think I did okay. There are a number of parallels between
this story, and the story of Kenji's parents, some you have seen
in this episode, some you will see later on.
Episode 08, "Under a Glass Moon," will be ready next Monday.
Prepare yourselves, because it's is going to be an all out war
for the minds and hearts of Yamada High!
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