Story Time
Summary: Here I am, writing a story about a boy, his companions, his enemies, and his life. "Didn't you hear of the plane crash over the Pacific about a year ago?" "So, he forgets everything the next morning?"
Author's Notes
This is the weirdest thing I've wanted to write all this time.
Story Time
It is night, and I'm writing this in the dim lamp light in my study room. Glancing over to the bright screen of my cell phone, I read the time as twelve o'clock. It was getting late, and I needed to finish this story.
Who will be the main character to my story? That is my first concern. Who?
I listen to the radio, humming softly to the catchy tunes. I heard a name.
Echizen.
Perfect, a main character. Echizen…Echizen what? Ryoma…Echizen Ryoma.
Echizen Ryoma.
Where will the setting be? Where will my story take place?
The singer continues with the song, I rolled my eyes at their awkward English pronunciations. This Japanese j-rocker has the worst English I've ever heard a Japanese person say. Something in my mind clicks as the setting became clearer.
Japan.
Who will accompany my main character? Be a best friend, a supporter?
I idly poked at the sliced pieces of peach with a toothpick. They were not yet ripe. That sour twang still hung in my mouth not yet gone.
Momo…Momoshiro.
Who will the worst enemy of my character? Someone Echizen Ryoma despises.
My naming skills aren't superior. But something came to mind that I couldn't shake off.
Sanada Genichiro.
A wonderful name, but not suited as the worst enemy. Only as a minor character which helped push my main character up.
Fuji Syusuke.
No, he is a companion. Not an enemy.
Eiji Kikumaru.
He will be the energetic one, all stories need someone energetic.
Inui Sadaharu.
I need a distinct trait for him…vegetable extract. Inui Juice.
Takashi…
He will be 'Taka-san' for short. The one with a dual personality.
Slowly names just started pouring down on the paper.
Hyotei.
Atobe Keigo.
Rokkakku.
Saeki Kojirou.
Rikkai Dai.
Yukimaru Seichi.
The names started flowing out on paper, the words, and plot soon followed. Satisfied, I with my story I went back to read it.
Echizen Ryoma…Fuji Syusuke…Kanto Tournament…tennis…
A familiar pain in my head started, warning me not to read on, not to continue on. Curiosity won over the warnings.
When visiting their friend, the plane crashed and everyone died.
The last sentence I wrote was so frank and to the point. No description just that they died. Searching my mind, who was it that they were visiting?
"Tezuka, we'll be over there when you finish your last match!"
Tezuka, who was that? Tezuka…Kunimitsu. Wasn't that my name?
"All of us will be coming! Make sure you can show us a gold medal!"
The glistening of gold caught my eye, a small medal, a first place medal. Where did I receive it?
"Tezuka, remember our plane no. is NY045, don't forget!"
"A plane crashed in the middle of the Pacific, the no. was NY045…no one survived."
---------
"The patient in ward 23 has gone out of control!" a nurse sputtered as she ran up to the doctor.
"Tezuka is it?" With a nod of confirmation from the nurse, the old man sighed. He was there when the boy first came to him with an injury in his elbow and later his shoulder. Now it was getting too much. "He'll control himself due time."
He clenched his eyes shut and blindly reached for the assortment of pills that were in the drawer of his desk. Swallowing a couple of different pills, he stored his journal in the bottom drawer and went to sleep. A collective amount of journals lay in the bottom compartment, all of them started out differently, but ended with the same sentence.
When visiting their friend, the plane crashed and everyone died.
----------
"Tezuka-kun has many journals doesn't he?" the custodian said casually as he accidentally stumbled upon the stack of journals. The nurse who was in charge of the patient looked at the man funny.
"Didn't you hear of the plane crash over the Pacific about a year ago?"
"Some 2,000 dead, who can forget?"
After some curt words and short exchange before the young man walked back in greeting both elders before going for a walk.
"So, he forgets everything the next morning?"
"Never remembers a thing, he still thinks this place is New York."
Plane Crash Over Pacific, Over 2,000 Dead
Tezuka actually knew, he stashed the newspaper article secretly under all the journals. The last voicemails that he received on his cell phone from his friends were still not yet deleted. Tezuka couldn't forget, he wouldn't let himself. Everyday, he went read the same sentence over and over again.
When visiting their friend, the plane crashed and everyone died. Everyone's dead. Fuji, Echizen, Oishi, Tekashi, everyone's gone.
---------
Tezuka Kunimitsu was finally being released out of this hospital, his limbs ached with the need to go do something other than stay inside. As he took out his journals one by one, he found the little article and stared at it.
"Why do I have something from over two years ago?" Without another thought, he crumpled it and threw it away. On the back of the article, the ink had smeared which were once the words:
Everyone's dead.
Maybe if he read those words, maybe, just maybe he would remember. Maybe he just forgot though the passage of time the names of his friends and was relieved of his pain. But then again, it was probably time he had moved on, forgot or not.
Tezuka left the hospital as if missing something. Looking down at his cell phone which said he missed a call, listening to his voice mail a strangely familiar voice penetrated his senses.
"Tezuka, we'll be over there when you finish your last match! We're taking plane NY045 so don't you forget…"
A/N: I hated this. It was so weird. I'm taking a short break from Magical Rackets and trying to finish some of my old fanfics that I've started but never finished. This was the worst story I've ever written, but I'd appreciate feedback of any sort.
Thanks for viewing!
