One .:1311 words
Alright. Please just bear with me for a while- or skip straight to the action a few paragraphs down if you like. No? Good.
Firstly, this is a one-off Author's Note, to get down everything important about the story at this point in time; so you won't have one clogging your bandwidth every chapter. Good news, right?
Two: this is extremely OC-centric, and deals with themes like death, abuse and rape, mainly in the first two chapters but recurring later on. So if any of this disturbs you, do not read further.
Three: I repeat, this story will not be all fluffy romance and cut-and-paste manga scenes. I'm fleshing out from the original series, which will include entirely new parts pre-canon to establish a credible backstory for the OC and not just give her informed attributes. Also, while I can't deny there may be some LxOC moments, the end will most likely end up being inspired by Story of the Century , and not your usual Lawli loves Mary and they live happily every after.
Four: I'm not perfect, I can admit that. I'm not infallible and I do make mistakes. So please, if you see any, from bad grammar to major OOC, please don't hesitate to tell me. I'm not saying that just to get more reviews, I genuinely mean it.
Five: You may notice a bit confusing language here. Bear in mind that, while this is in third person, it is at this point in time told from the point of view of the as-yet-unnamed protagonist who has no concept of our way of looking at or describing things. I've tried to show this in the language I've used, so it may be difficult to follow.
Oh, by the way, any good betas out there with Death Note experience? This would be much appreciated...
And finally... thank you for making it this far. I sincerely mean this; all you authors out there will know the feeling you get when you get a hit on your precious baby. It's great, so thank you for reading this. And, without further ado, my baby.
Definition Chapter One: The Language Barrier
From her earliest memories, the room has been empty. She has no name, no concept of a name or identification or language or companionship, does not and cannot even comprehend these things. She simply is, a creature barely sentient, and speaks in small sounds and whimpers. She has had nobody to teach her properly, an experiment that has evolved on her own to form her own sort of communication. As for those watching her, they have learned a little of her speech, enough to know when she is hungry or bored but little else.
The room is not very big, but spacious enough for her to live in. At one end is a soft pile of blankets and a flap that makes food; the other, the place she does waste. The walls are smooth and cold, and shimmer faintly in what light there is. She has her own sounds for these phenomena, and says them quietly to herself sometimes.
Every day after she eats, she hears the Open Noise - the wall behind her slides open with a crash, and she follows the memorised route to a larger room. It is filled with gleaming and matte objects, most of which move when she pushes in parts of them. They are fun, as much as she can apply that idea, and she likes the running and throwing and hitting.
The scientists watching her note this down with smug superiority - the pet experiment is following the master plan perfectly, and they don't need an intelligent creature to train her to kill.
After a while has passed and her sides heave and ache, the Open Noise happens again and she goes to a third room the size of the first with a hole full of water. She dislikes the wetness instinctively, but knows she has to use it to get the itchiness and stickiness off of her. It's hard to keep clean otherwise, especially the softer patch of stuff that grows from her head down to her waist, the same bright colour as the walls around her.
Then the routine is complete when she is dry, and she returns to the food-room to sleep and begin the cycle again.
Only, this time is different. One of those observing her realised that she was almost eight and knows no language. How can a tool follow instructions she does not understand? So, the next time the Open Noise sounds a different part of the wall slides apart.
She creeps through cautiously, light on her feet and silent. On the other side is a room the colour of her arms, when they're clean, but as bright as the stuff on her head. Inside the ground is soft and slightly scratchy, the shade of the cold-walls and springy beneath her feet and hands. In the room is an object like one of those from the Second Room, but covered in blankets and oddly shaped.
And on it is a creature, so unusual as to drawn her attention from the noise-making circle on the wall and the flat black rectangle beneath it. She approaches it slowly, curiosity piqued, and examines it when it shows no discomfort. It reminds her of herself, oddly.
She notes the things that are the same as she paces around it. It has interesting-smelling softness on its head, but shorter than hers- it reaches the end of its head and no further. It is also shadowy like the middle of its eyes, between the ring of some indeterminate colour she has never seen before and has no name for. The most unusual thing, though, is its skin; it is a dark hue like its eyes. It smells like her, though a little different, and she recognises that this creature is like her.
She makes a questioning sound at it, and it shows her its bright teeth, the colour of the Clean Room. She likes to think about different colours, she realises, and compare them to other things she is more familiar with.
It lifts its hand and touches it to her head, and she feels a pleasant sort of languidness. At ease, she climbs onto the object it is sitting on and makes herself comfortable, sprawled lazily across its legs with her own curled to her chest. It continues to put its hand on her head and it feels nice.
Then the rectangle becomes coloured, and she almost jumps in fright - would have, too, if she were not so comfortable. There is an image on it, almost of the creature she is on but a little different in its colours. She reaches out to touch it, marvelling at how it fit there, but finds her fingers halted by something cool and transparent.
"Human." It makes a sound, then waits. She waits, too, then has a moment of understanding.
"Hyu-min?" she tries. It is her first attempt at any sort of official language, and will not be her last.
Now, every day after she is clean, she goes to the Image Room and stays there until the circle's slowest hand passes four marks. It is difficult to learn all the sounds that the creature - Doktersheeang - makes, but she tries very hard. Some things she does not understand, and is confused as to what they are, but she learns them anyway.
For example, while Doktersheeang is also 'human', she is a 'hybrid'. She wonders why it has two words but she has only one, and asks it in a roundabout way.
"You-" this means her too, but not specifically. This word belongs to any person but the speaker. "-don't-" a negative possessive. "-have-" to show ownership. "-a-" to define a singular. "-name." This last word confuses her, but she takes it to mean a specific word thar belongs to something. After all, there are many creatures called human but only one is Doktersheeang. There is also Dokterjoenz, Doktermarsh, Dokteryamashita- but they are all human, and doctor, so maybe they are actually Sheeang, Joenz, Marsh and Yamashita? She asks Doktersheeang, and is excited to learn she is right.
So she learns words and numbers from Doctor Sheeang, then how to put them into marks on paper. It turns out that Sheeang is actually Xiang, and that and 'X' can be said like a 'Z' or 'Eks' or 'Cross' or 'Sh', and it is quite confusing. She eventually learns it all, though.
After a while, when she is taller, Doctor Xiang gives her a book. It is full of words - all of them, in fact. After that she doesn't see Doctor Xiang again but reads the book in the Image Room by herself and learns what all the words in it mean - although some she can only associate loose connotations to, and thus they are meaningless.
For example, she knows that for a new creature to be born two sexually mature ones must procreate, but she doesn't know what the emotional attachments associated with parents are. And anyway, she wasn't born from a mature female carrying its young, but was genetically constructed from one of Doctor Xiang's reproduction-capable cells and inserted with genetic material from a feline, which makes her an interordinal hybrid rather than a human.
One day, Doctor Jones tells her she is now twelve years old. She thinks that now she might need a name, and asks him.
"No," he says. "Only humans are allowed names." She agrees, but privately decides to think of one for herself - one that sounds nice, though, and not something silly like 'Jones'.
After a while, she realises she likes to call herself Cat - because, if she is not human, then she is logically the other fraction of her genetic material. So she is Cat, and she is sixteen years old when she discovers that the world is much larger than she ever imagined.