Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha is owned and writen by Masaki Tsuzuki. All refferences to other fanfiction is property of their original writers. Please don't hate me!
This chapter is very autobiographical. I didn't intend to give you his entire lifes story, I was just trying to use it as a means of developing the zeitgeist of the story. The rest will be normal, I promise you.
Calendar Year 0068, March 4
I don't really know how to do this, but I'm afraid that if I don't write it down, I'd lose my mind. So much has happened, and many of my old memories appear to be fading, so in fear of the future, I hope this will help me to remember.
My name is Ethan Frist, and I'm 10 years old. I don't know how true that really is, since I can remember a time more than 10 years ago when that wasn't the case, but right now the body I feel, and the hands I control belong to the 10 year old child of Margaret and Joseph Frist. Ethan's birthday was yesterday, and I found myself enjoying it like it was my own, which brought on the revelation and the desire to log everything.
I, that is to say, Ethan, currently lives in a modest apartment deep in the urban city of Flaken, in the south side of country of Great Milta, on the planet of Mid-Childa. My…that is to say Ethan's father is a B ranked Mage for the Time Space Administration Bureau - Ground Arms Division, which is why we live in this foreign city so far away from the capitol.
I remember being Fujisoma Naoko, a young man living by himself in a small apartment in the Fussa prefecture of Tokyo, In the island country of Japan, on the Planet Terra (sometimes known as Earth). I, That is to say Naoko, can remember watching and enjoying a couple of series of Anime known as "Mahou Shoujou Lyrical Nanoha", the world of which I have found myself in for the last 7 years.
This sounds awfully confusing, even to me, and I'm the one writing this, so perhaps I should start from the beginning and simply retale my memories;
The year was Gregorian calendar year 2010. My name was Fijisoma Naoko, and I've already mentioned the living arrangements, save to say that Fussa was right next to that American Military Base, and everyone knows how crazy those gaijin can be with their experiments and stuff, so I blame them. Anyway, I was 23 years old, a 4th year in collage (Tokyo Collage of Engineering), and 4 months away from graduating before I took a job at Subaru auto industries as a low level tech.
Despite my chosen career field, I was a clear cut Otaku, who grew up watching and discussing and living the Anime genre. I was apart of the Anime club at collage, participated in the creation of a few Doujinshi we sold at Comiket, and was even fluent in English (necessary for my career, but helpful since I found that one thing those damn Americans were good at was Fanfiction…occasionally).
The last thing I remember, as Naoko, was coming home on Saturday evening, after my Part time job as a cook at a local Ramenya (Saturday classes end early). I watched a few episodes of the original Nanoha series (it was Magical Girl month at the club), then laid down for a quick nap, my alarm set for midnight so I could watch the new shows before crashing for real.
I don't remember falling asleep, or what I dreamt about, or if I even had a dream, only that I woke up to an unfamiliar alarm and found myself in an unfamiliar room.
I was instantly alert, which is unusual for me, both of me, and the first thing I noticed in the morning light was that everything looked clean, ridiculously modern, and HUGE! Like I was in a giant's house or something. The next thing I noticed was the railing on the side of my huge bed, a railing I soon realized was to keep me from falling off the bed in my sleep, because the room wasn't really that big, it was me who was that small. I was a 3 year old again.
Now I had seen this sort of thing numerous times in Anime and Fanfiction. One of my favorite expressions when faced with unusual or un-prepared for situations was "Saotome School of being in over your damn head – Shut up and Stall for time!" However, reading about it and actually experiencing it are two different matters. I got scared, and I panicked. Through my panicked screams I wet myself, and fell out of bed anyway in a futile attempt to run for the door and run away until things made sense. Futile, because It's been more than 20 years since I was so young, and I don't even remember when I was originally 10, let alone 3, so I stumbled at least twice with every step. Hurt a little too.
The door slid open, and two adults I later learned were this body's parents came in to investigate the commotion. The woman (my mother?), cradled me to her breast and said soothing things to try and calm me down, while the man (my father?), true to military fashion, immediately investigated every nook and cranny to try and find what had caused me to panic. When he didn't find anything, he joined his wife in the consoling.
I did calm down a lot, and finally noticed that they were talking in a language that I couldn't even recognize, letalone understand. When I tried to ask what the hell was going on and who they were and where was I, you know, the usual things someone asks when they're in another dimension and chronologically challenged, I eventually noticed that they were giving me, and each other, uncomprehending looks, as if they couldn't understand what I was saying either.
Needless to say, like the good parents they are, I found myself sitting in a hospital room less than a half and hour later. I gawked at how similar it looked to the room Nanoha was in when her Linker Core was stolen, but hadn't really made the full association yet. All I was able to see was that wherever I was, it was definitely many more times advanced than my Japan, and Japan was the most technologically developed country in the world! So, add two and two together and I'm not in Japan anymore Todo.
Anyway, shortly thereafter a kindly middle-aged doctor looking person walked in, spoke briefly with the parents in that weird language, then began to examine me, to my awe, using tools that never touched me save for some beams of soft light.
On the ride over to the hospital, I had Finally calmed down mostly and remembered some of the things I learned about these kinds of unnatural situations, which I was only half able to review as my attention kept being drawn to the windows of the car, and the view of the futuristic city outside. The mother kept trying to talk to me as I sat on her lap, and I kept trying to talk to her as well. Apparently, the language that is native here, that this body must have been learning to speak before I possessed it, is different enough from Japanese and English that I couldn't properly form the words I want to say at the speed I'm comfortable with, so I had to force myself to slow down and carefully annunciate every word, which oddly enough made me sound indeed like a young child. The task was so hard though that I simply decided to stop trying, and settled deeper into her lap as I gazed out the window.
I never much liked that damn Skysaber, but one thing he got right was the sheer comfort laps can be to sit on when you're young.
I keep digressing. I've got to stop that. Anyway, when the doctor tried to talk to me, I decided to try again, in hopes that maybe these parents are just weird and the doctor could actually answer in a language I can understand. To my (pleasant) surprise, after only a few words, suddenly Everyone began speaking fluent Japanese, though the lip sync was off. Whatever this hospital was, it apparently was equipped with some kind of universal translator, and the controlling computer had the courtesy to realize that if I'm speaking Japanese, then maybe I'd like to hear everything in Japanese as well. I liked this place more and more.
Well the doctor asked me a few questions, such as do I know where I am or what today's date is, most of which I answered with "I don't know" or some variation thereof. When the questions got more complicated, I was afraid of what would happen if I told them the truth (if they even believed it), so I copped out with an "I don't remember". Apparently satisfied, the doctor bid the parents to wait for a few moments, and then left.
We waited there for an hour or so, including a light breakfast brought in by a pretty nurse in response to my stomach growling, and spend the time asking each other questions. I couldn't ask or answer much because trying to was making my mouth sore, so the only thing I learned was that the body I'm in is named Ethan Frist, and is the only son of the two adults before me.
Eventually the doctor came back and ushered the parents outside the door. The door was still open, so I carefully made my way to it so that I could listen in. Bless the nice computer that continued to translate their words for me when I was in earshot.
"Your son is perfectly healthy, I can assure you." Said the doctor. "I just spoke with the Naval division, and they confirmed a small dimensional disturbance around your area earlier this morning. It appears that Ethan was affected by the disturbance on a psychic level, where his memory was suppressed by one of his past lives from another world. Young children are susceptible to this sort of thing unfortunately. I can assure you however that it is temporary, and given time those memories will fade and you'll have your son back."
The mother was almost in tears, lamenting at the woe of her son or something. The father was more calm however. "How long would that take?" he asked the doctor.
"I'm sorry, I don't know. Could be tonight, could be next month. It depends on the strength of the past personality. The longest I've ever seen it take is 6 months however, so please bring him back in 3 for a checkup."
The father nodded. "Is there anything else? Anything we could do to help?"
"Oh yes! You will probably have to teach your son most of the basics again, such as speaking, reading, chores, etc. Having your son re-acquainted with his life will speed the process of his recovery though, and I'm sure you'll find that he learns it much faster than before."
After a few more small words, the father thanked the doctor and we all left for home.
Much of this event is hazy in my mind by now, I'm sure there was a lot of conversation that I missed, but hopefully the important points were covered.
There was one more thing about this first event I should point out. As we went to the hospital, the mother held me on her lap, holding me tightly and lovingly. I didn't pay too much attention to it at the time, focused too much on my own what-the-hell situation. In the hospital, She cried and lamented and got over-emotional, especially at the verdict that "Her son is (temporarily) gone!" however I kept to an impartial emotion on the matter. She's not my mother, plus the professional doctor was saying everything's gonna be alright. Stop being such a bitch on the matter!
On the ride back however, I sat on her lap again, but things were different. She wasn't holding me tightly and securely, it was almost as if she didn't want to hold me. Her legs were pinched tightly closed, her hands just barely holding the edge of my sides, and her arms twitching in that way indicating that she really wanted to push me away. I looked up at her, and through her tear stained face, she forced on a smile for me, a smile that couldn't hide the look in her eyes.
She was afraid of me.
She was afraid of her son.
She was afraid of her 3 year old son, because of me.
I cannot describe how much that hurt me, so early in the morning so early in this new life to have felt myself done so much wrong, but I can't help but think now that it was one of the reasons that became what I am.
Calendar Year 0068, March 7
I got into a fight in school today. That idiot Kirk. He's one of those pompous aristocratic types always boasting about how powerful his family is and how great a Mage he's going to become some day. Reminds me a lot of Draco Malfoy.
Well I finally got fed up with his pointless boasting, so I called him out. "If you're so high and mighty, Why are you still in school with the rest of us norms, huh?" It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that my own Linker Core was so pathetically small, right? No, of course not. He was just a jerk. The poking probably didn't help.
We argued a little, growing angrier and angrier with each other until I finally got fed up and socked him in the jaw. At that point his two lackeys (told you he was like Draco) grabbed me and held me while Kirk violated a major taboo by casting a simple attack spell unlicensed at me. He got it off, but I was able to pull one of his lackeys in front of me to take the attack. He went down, and I was able to throw off the other guy and tackle Kirk before he could finish casting it again. Then the fight went off in earnest until the teachers finally showed up to break us apart.
I threw the first blow, so the fight was considered my fault, so I was suspended for 2 days. I took some major consolidation in that Kirk violating the magic taboo had him sent to Juvee for a week.
What does this have to do with anything? Nothing much, other than it finally gives me the time to continue recapping my earlier life;
That first week in this new life was depressing, and unendingly long. The Mother's nerves were shot the whole time, the Father took leave from the bureau to aid in his sons' recovery, and I found myself spinning through the 8 stages of emotions preceding my own doom.
I was in Mid-Childa. The world of Takamachi Nanoha. Magic was useable, adventures abound, plus the whole re-doing your childhood concept. I should have been ecstatic!
That wasn't the case though. I thought I was a healthy, ordinary collage student with much of my life to look forward too. Instead, I find myself trapped in a strange place, and told that I have at absolute most 6 months left to live.
I imagine that getting a terminal condition like this one in my home life would have been different, because once I learned to accept it, I'd have been able to go off and enjoy all the things I've wanted to do. I can't even do that here, because not only am I a mere 3 year old again, physically incapable of doing anything that I wanted to do before (if any of them were even available in this world), but I'm not even me, just a "possession" that the parents want out of their child.
I still did everything I had to. I did the chores, brushed my teeth, ate my vegetables, but no matter what I did, it wasn't really me. Every time I looked at the Mother, she would see the intelligence in my eyes that shouldn't be there and nearly break out in tears again. Every time I saw that look it sent new waves of shame through me, all adding to a vicious spiral that made me suicidal… except it's not really me so I couldn't even do that.
Throughout it all, I kept a hold of a small, selfish desire to stay and live, lamenting at my fate and revolting against my destiny, but it was fleeting.
A week later, I was standing on a stool absentmindedly brushing my teeth when I caught myself trying to rub at my scar, only to remember that it wasn't there.
When I was younger, I was one of the victims of a tragic car accident. The driver (drunk) fell asleep, pressed down on the accelerator, and drove head first into the corner of a building. A couple of people were run over, and the car itself exploded, sending debree flying everywhere, killing a few more and injuring many, myself included. I was lucky, a piece of metal grazed my temple and I got a few bruises, however the head wound left a thin scar across the left side of my forehead. Ever since then, I'd developed a habit of rubbing it, gleaning a small amount of comfort in being able to feel those thin groves and bumps.
In front of that mirror in this new world, when I felt not an old wound but unbroken skin, I finally took a good hard look at myself. Brown fluffy hair instead of strait black, Dirt brown eyes, large puffy nose. That's not me I see in the mirror. That child is looking at me, moving like I'm moving, but it's not me. Whoever this child once was, or may become, it's not me or mine. I've always considered myself a good, honorable Japanese man. I don't know if I really died or not, but I know that I shouldn't be here. With a heavy sigh I resolved myself to my fate, and went to grab the parents.
In a moment, I had them sitting in the living room. I pulled out the portable translator (courtesy of the hospital), got down on my knees, and put my hands and forehead into the carpet. "I'm sorry" I said. I wasn't sure how the natives did this sort of thing, but since this was going to be my last act as me, I'll do it my way. "My name is Fijisoma Naoko. I don't know how I got here but I shouldn't be here. It wouldn't be right for you or your son."
Both of the parents were a little taken aback at the admission. The Mother tried to say something, but the father put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head before beckoning for me to continue.
"I want to help fix this. The doctor said that treating me like your son will help, and I don't know enough to contradict that. For now, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to end this." I finished by bowing my head again.
The Mother fled the room, tears she thought long since dried flowing down her face again. The father looked her way in concern for a moment before laying his hand on my shoulder. "Thank you" he said gently. "That took a lot of courage." My opinion of the man, as high as it was, went up significantly more when he said that. I didn't think people like that existed, not really. "Is Ethan in there at all, that you can tell?"
I hung my head in shame. "I don't know. I haven't been able to notice anything." I said honestly. On introspective, using knowledge I gleaned from various works of fiction in my previous life, I wasn't able to see anything of the original. All of the mannerisms were mine, all of the emotions were mine, and all of the recognitions, as few as there were after a mere week in this world, were mine.
According to the Unified Theory of Possession (Ghostly Light, an Anime about a ghost who possessed people in order to help them resolve their problems), even if the memories aren't retained from the host, certain unconscious features bleed through, such as the familiarity of a favorite smell. Not that I should go believing an anime as truth, but it's all I had to go on, and there was literally nothing there that I didn't remember as being my own.
"Admittedly, it's only been a week." I added. "If I notice anything before I fade, I'll be sure to tell you. Again, I'm so sorry"
The father sat back and smiled gently. "You are a very polite young man, Mr. Naoko, and I at least believe you hold no fault in this. I still have another week off. Do you have any suggestions on what to do now?"
I looked towards the bedroom door. "I think momma needs you more than I do right now…" I looked at him and forced an embarrassed smile "but after that, could you teach me how to talk again?"
The Father gave me an odd smile that I couldn't place right away. After exchanging a few more words, he left to console his wife as I put the portable translator away for the last time.
I didn't notice it for quite some time, but when I said "momma" that time, it was in Childian, and the way their 3 year-old was used to saying it.
****
The rest of that day was somewhat awkward. The Mother, despite the emotional wreck she was, tried hard to act normal around me. I learned years later through overheard conversation that the Father had noticed my slipup and used it to glean words of hope into the Mother's ears, which helped her behavior immensely. She still acted nervous around me, but it slowly faded.
Instruction in language started almost right away. Now I had heard that younger children learn faster, but I had no idea HOW much faster it really was. Within the week I already had a solid conversational foundation. Mostly "I want" or "I am" with a bunch of common household nouns and verbs, but I was radically impressed nonetheless. For a moment there, I thought that this body was some sort of child genius, but a quick attempt at a logic problem (math, at least the numbers were the same) disproved that theory. It was just young, normal, and driven by experienced concentration.
After mulling over it a couple of nights, I figured that the fastest way revert to a 3 year old would be to act like one. It wasn't a complete 3-year-old-mode, just a conscious effort to mimic what I remember little children being like. I spoke in simple words (even after I learned better ones to use), played with whatever toys I could find, and refused to eat any vegetables that didn't have melted cheese on it. The parents could tell that it was an act, but an act that must have been working, because even I started to notice some of the slipups that occurred, such as the day the Father's brother came over, and I immediately shouted "Unca!" at him.
And so it continued. Once I got used to always acting like the child, I just let go and continued, content that things will go back to normal for the family and justice be done, until the day I finally fade.
****
6 months later, it was afternoon naptime at the daycare center, but I wasn't sleeping. Instead, I was using it as a moment of quiet to drop the act and mull.
The doctor had clearly said "no more than 6 months", yet here I was, still recognizing myself as Naoko, with all of his memories. I wasn't sure what it meant, and I was a little worried.
I had the act down to an art form by then. In my previous life, I was always a child in an adult's body, taking amusement from the smallest of things, so when I had the opportunity to exploit that side of me without shaming myself in the eyes of society, I took to it like a magnet.
By then, both of the parents, and even the good doctor, were convinced that "I" had fully faded and "Ethan" returned. The father even tested that once, which I accidentally passed. He called out "Naoko-san!" once when calling me for dinner. I was concentrating on fitting the two sides of that ball back together, so I didn't respond, but when he called out a second time, this time as "Ethan!", then I realized that he called twice, so it must be important, and looked up.
I didn't have the heart to give up the act though. As an honorable Japanese man, I always stuck to my convictions and my word, so even though I 'Should" have said something to someone, I knew deep in my heart that I wouldn't.
So there I was, successfully pretending to be someone that I'm not. As I thought about it, it seemed more and more likely that I was going to be stuck as this "Ethan" for the rest of his life, and since I wasn't going to blow the lid on it, the next question is "What do I want to do with this life?"
I knew by then that I was in the Nanoha anime world. In the last 6 months, even with a father in the Bureau, I haven't heard anything about those 3 Aces, Admittedly, I couldn't for the life of me remember when those lost logia incidents occurred, so it could have very well not happened yet, and it also could very well not happen at all. I can't just assume that since this is that "world", that those "events" are going to happen.
I *Did* happen to once hear about an Admiral Clyde Harlaown who died a few years before during a Lost Logia incident, leaving behind his wife and only son. If I'm going to be in an Anime universe, I'd very much like to meet the characters I grew to enjoy, so at the very least Chrono is available.
Other than that little selfish request, What should I do? Since the father is a Bureau mage, I would hope that this body has a Linker Core, because Magic is a MUST. If I'm the self insert I imagine myself becoming, then my Linker Core would be amazingly big, and I'd accidently find an ancient powerful Intelligent Device or something, allowing me to quickly keep up with or even surpass the local Aces.
One can dream, right? Realistically speaking, when I was old enough I'd probably join the Bureau myself and simply feel my way through.
That was all a whiles away yet. For now, I was finally tired and closed my eyes to nap.
Only for the lights to come on and the activities resume.
Calendar Year 0068, April 20
Yaay! 4-20! National weed day! What a pity that I'm still only 10, and that Marijuana has been completely eliminated from this world.
No, I never used Pot in my old life (I tried Ecstasy once), but any opportunity to celebrate is an opportunity worth taking. I mean, There was Golden week, a few isolated holidays, and birthdays, and that was about it in Japan. One of the few things I envied about those Americans is that they had at least one holiday off-day a month! Otherwise, the droll of going to school 6 days a week, 10 months a year really starts to take it's toll, so we all learned to make our fun and celebrate everything.
Sure, 4-20 doesn't exist in this world. There actually isn't a regular holiday for another 6 weeks yet, but the mentality is still there, and many of my classmates really took to the idea, so when I "randomly" invented a cause for celebration, they all jumped at the idea and we all went out for Karaoke.
Because of the ignorance of marijuana, I had to make something up, and the rule of thumb was to celebrate something that made sense, even if it was minor. No pure randomness. Luckily, there was one thing that came to mind.
Children here start official schooling at a mere 4 years old. That's incredibly early in life in my opinion, but the culture here has it's reasons, and to their credit, people who are 15 or even younger are regularly making strong positive impacts on society.
Despite the youth in which people become constructive members of adulthood, most of our childhood restrictions aren't lifted until we turn 20. Alcohol, Smoking, Marriage, childbirth, etc.
Therefore, the 4-20 celebration, "From 4 To 20", celebrating the 16 years of oppression before we finally become free. Stupid, I know, but whatever. It worked. It was a lot of fun, and Mika already suggested an After 4-20 party at the arcade tomorrow.
Like everyone else, I started elementary school when I was 4. Back then it surprised the hell out of me. 4!? We don't even have the concentration to watch a TV show to the end yet at 4 (usually), letalone sit through entire classes!
Apparently I forgot what Elementary school was really like. Much like Day Care, there were no desks, just a big open room with lots of pads and shelves upon shelves of toys and such. Most of those toys (which we had scheduled times to play with) were educational, such as the World Map Puzzle, or the Problem Solver video game (earn a fireman so you can put out the fires, or a gardener to help grow pretty flowers, etc.), and there was still a designated nap time right after story telling time (that oddly only told family friendly versions of true history).
I thought it was great. I get to play around and be a child yet still learn all the things I needed to learn about this world. I had already figured out that if I'm going to maintain the façade of being an ordinary child, I'd need to make sure to only get decent to good grades, and I was worried about how difficult it would be to fake ignorance on many of the subjects that I'm already well versed in, such as Math and ….well… Ok, just math, but still!
Whoever designed the schooling system here, is a fucking Genius! One of the so called "games" we played in class was a version to story time. We all take out chairs from a closet, line them up real neat, and part of the game is to stay seated until the end. While we were sitting there, the teacher would read a simple story, and we had to talk about what parts of the story meant. Good answers and attention earned the student points towards candy, better toys, or other benefits. After a few of these sessions, the teacher "accidently" let slip that writing down parts of the story you thought important earned bonus points
As the year dragged on, this game was played more and more often, from once a week to thrice a week until the end of the year when it was played two to three times a day! By then the stories varied from word problems to history lessons to good manners.
I was extremely mightily impressed at how by the beginning of our second year, everyone around me just naturally assumed that we're supposed to sit at the desk and take notes to the lecture.
Other than that, there was only one more things I can think to mention about that first year of school, and it's a point of heavy shame for me. Mid-way through the year, we had a light medical checkup, where they actually examined our Linker Cores for the first time. I was more nervous about it than anyone else, because this could make or break my plans for the future (not that there were many yet).
DOOOOOOM!!!!! My linker core was pathetic. It was small, hard to see, and worth very little by way of magic power. Oh, they didn't say that, they just said that my core was healthy and that I'd make a fine mage some day if I worked hard at it, but I was able to sneak a glance at the results from the rest of my class, and some of those numbers were just staggering (20,000 max potential for me, 1,000,000 max potential for quiet little Nancy? No thank you.).
I'll admit, and it was a great point of consultation to myself, was that my Linker Core was NOT the smallest there. It was pretty far down there, but there were a few lower. Also, about half of the class read as magic null, with no Linker Cores, so simply having one set me up over half the class in popularity.
Regardless, I naturally lamented to myself at my dashed dreams. With my core at it's size, I'll never be able to fly (which I always wanted to do), and I wouldn't ever be able to grow past the "Average Grunt" aspect of the Bureau without some sort of trickery or seriously impressive accomplishment (I bugged the father about it for a while until he finally broke down and told me his numbers. 132,000 max potential, and after so many years he's still forever stuck as a B ranked mage.)
And so I (privately) cried about the unfairness of it all, only to then begin scheming how to change my fate.
Calendar Year 0068, June 7
Ha! I did it! I got away with my first real test of lateral thinking!
Over the weekend, there was an athletics competition at the school. All the parents, family, and neighbors came out to watch us compete against each other in a young, miniature version of the Olympics.
I myself competed in only 5 of the events. 100 meter dash, Relay race, Long jump, High jump, and the marathon (it was only 10 kilometers, after all, we're still kids). What can I say? I like running, and I like being fast.
I got 2 golds (100 meter dash, Marathon) one bronze (long jump) and a no-finish (relay race. Our team dropped the baton). But it was the High Jump that almost got me in trouble.
I got first place, by a difference of nearly half a meter! The reason I jumped so high is that I had springs on the toes of my shoes.
Why did I cheat? I didn't. I looked up the official rules, and nowhere in it did it say anything about not being allowed. Oh, I have no doubt that I could take first or second in it, after all, Most of these kids are just having fun, while I actually have some real martial arts experience behind me, but as a test for myself, I needed to see if I could openly cheat and argue my way out of it.
I argued with the officials, my friend Mika pulled out the official rule book so I could properly cite my arguments (and encourage the judges to do the same), My parents were called over to join in the argument. The mother cried like usual, and the father gave me a stern lecture in front of everyone about following the rules and respecting the teachers. My argument against all of theirs was that there was no rule against using it, and in fact there is a rule (page 85, Jumpers Apparel) that stated that Posture shoes, Shoes that have small springs built into the rubber (for people with sore feet who have to stand for long periods of time) are allowed, and all I did was expand upon the design.
The officials couldn't find anything directly against my arguments, but in order to maintain their dignity they enforced another normally obscure rule to where when a judgment is in question, the event is held again. In my book, that's my victory. This time they told me specifically beforehand not to use the springs, which I complied with and barely (2 millimeters) scored first again.
On the ride back home, the Father turned to me and asked "So why exactly did you do that with the High Jump?"
I turned to him and smiled my best innocent smile and said "To see if I could!" to which he just laughed and said "that's my boy!"
5 years ago, after I had finished crying about my magic, I sat down started brainstorming ways to get around that handicap. The list ended up being very long, with most of them deemed undoable, but the important ones were as follows.
1: Find out where the Scrya clan is, and be there when Yuuno excavates the Jewel Seeds, in order to steal one or more and wish upon it to greatly strengthen my Linker Core.
2: Find Jail Scalleti and convince him to rebuild me as a Cyborg.
3: Partner myself to a Unison Device, and find away to make the fusion permanent
4: Focus my entire fighting style around martial arts
5: Spontaneously develop some sort of powerful Natural or Psychic ability.
Most of the other ideas were temporarily scrapped for being unviable, such as accidentally discovering a lost logia that makes me more powerful (too random for a non-main character), or Developing a local version of Negi's Magea Umbrae (absorbing magic to empower oneself) and absorbing the Arc En Ciel (too many variables from all ends). The 5 finalists have their issues, many of which I can't predict with what little I do know, but here's what it mostly seems to come down to.
I don't know if the Scrya clan even exists here, however if Chrono exists, then there's a reasonable chance that Yuuno does as well, and that he'll sometime soon discover the Jewel Seeds. Being there could be a big problem, because I was just a little kid and the parent's obviously wouldn't go along with the idea, and even if I got around all of that, It's extremely likely that I wouldn't be able to steal even one at any time without getting caught, and even if I got around THAT, the jewel seeds are a bit of an unstable wild card, so the wish could very well backfire and cripple or kill me. Besides, even one less Seed could alter the events of Nanoha, and I certainly don't want to do that, but then again the Anime never said anything about there being ONLY 21 Jewel seeds, only that 21 of them found their way to Earth. Perhaps going there after the fact and digging on my own could let me discover one.
Jail Scalleti can't be trusted, I'm not a girl, and the Cyborgs ultimately loose in the end. Not my cup o tee to be a bad guy at any time, but the potential is still there. If I were cyborganized I could always defect before the incident escalates, thus making me out to be a good guy while keeping all my mechanical goodness!
I love the idea of a Unison device, but I really don't know anything about them, other than that they are of an Ancient Belkian style, and the only ones I know of are Reinforce Zwei (who doesn't exist yet), and Agito (who only bonds to true ancient Knights). I'm sure there are others, especially since Agito was experimented on so much according to the anime, but finding them could be as difficult as getting a Jewel Seed without being caught.
With Martial Arts, it's hard to find a fault in the matter. Martial arts can do nothing but enhance my ability to do anything, and would leave me stronger and healthier than normal people. Also, if I could master it, I imagine that I'd be able to use my stamina and dexterity to simply avoid whatever most mages could throw at me, until they tired out and I moved in to finish the blow. The wild card here lies in Magic. There are definitely spells out there that move too fast for even a master martial artist to avoid, and some of them are even homing or explosive. In a fight, if I ever slipped up once and took a single hit, I'd be done for.
The last one is the most random and untrustworthy. I shouldn't believe what I saw in anime and fanfiction about inserts developing really strong skills like that, but then again here I am IN an anime world, so I shouldn't discount it either. Whatever the case, the most common development of such abilities usually only occur at a time of need, and even then may only apply to the situation at hand. I don't want to have to fight off hordes of Ninja's and demons just to be able to summon an iron pole, and I most CERTAINLY am not going to find myself victim to an open ended wish that grants me every imaginable strength and ability to be able to easily breeze my way through any situation no matter how dire and get every single girl in the process.
It took me a long time and lots of late going-to-sleep nights to finish the idea spread, only to find most of them, like I said, undoable. However, one of my favorite expressions I retained here is "Nothing is Impossible, you just haven't found the right way yet." I figure that I just don't know enough to make any of them work right now, so I'll have to be sure to always keep these ideas close at hand, incase I make a discovery that changes everything.
Calendar Year 0068, October 2
There was a promotions test at the Dojo recently. I performed my Kata's, Broke a few boards, ran myself ragged and *then* fought and defeated one of the other brown belts.
By the end of the day, I had a belt of raven black adorning my waist. My parents and my friends in the Dojo were all so proud of me as I stood there in a rigid stance while undergoing the ceremony.
Me, I was ecstatic, but instead of showing that, I tried to remain modest instead. When asked to give a few words, I simply quoted my first Sensei; "Improvement is an unending process, and what I wear bares no weight on how hard I should train." The sensei smiled approvingly and beckoned for me to stand with him and the other Black belts on the side as we watched the underbelts complete their tests.
Those words I used weren't just philosophical words of wisdom to me, they served as one of the quotes that I lived by now. I knew of only a small fraction of the enemies or animals I may have to fight some day, and even against just them, I know to the very center of my core that I'll need much much more training and improvement if I were to even hope of surviving a confrontation with them. With this belt, I'll tasked upon to help teach the others, which means that I'd have to devote even more of my free time to self practice. Maybe I could add an extra hour to my daily morning workouts.
Halfway through my second year in this world (this body was 5 by then) I went ahead and begged the father to sign me up for some martial arts classes. Oh, it wasn't out of the blue or anything, I intentionally waited until after we watched an action movie with lots of unrealistic martial arts fights to start the begging.
The Mother cried (apparently, it wasn't just me that stressed her during my first week here. She really is a crybaby, like a Female Soun Tendo), but the Father eventually conceded, saying that it's just a fad and a few lessons from the local dojo and that'll be the end of that.
So they signed me up for 3 1-hour lessons a week at a small Karate dojo in town. It's actually a local equivalent with a different name, but what little I know from the old world sais that Karate is a good identifier.
Boy were they surprised. After a mere month, Ryoko Sensei approached the Parents and encouraged them to sign me up for daily lessons. He said that I was so taken with the art (for my age) and I seemed to enjoy it so much that it would be a good idea. I agreed with Sensei and begged the parents to accept it (when you're a little kid, you don't ask, you beg or do).
I didn't have to fake my enjoyment of the art. Young children really are bottomless pits of energy.
In less then 3 months of attendance, I was promoted to Yellow belt, one of the youngest promotees not born into the art that Sensei had ever seen, though I was only 5, so he may have been trying to be nice and complimentary. Compliments always feel nice though, and when it's related to a skill that probably would save my life sometime soon, I may have found some motivation to train just that much harder somewhere.
3 years ago, when we moved out of the Capitol to this far away place, I was a little put off on how I could continue my training, and of course let my complaints be known. Luckily, Ryoko Sensei was the former student of an effeminate Master from that area, so he put in a letter of recommendation to allow me to join.
What an exclusive Dojo that was. Instead of a small storefront room with a bunch of mats, it was a large walled compound, with several buildings and many training obstacles built along or around the gardens and creek. Quite frankly, it was the most Japanese looking place I've seen since I came to this world, and for once I felt right at home.
Contrary to the size, there were not that many students. Otonafu Sensei ran a very private Dojo here, only allowing in those whom he recognizes as having talent, and I found out later, those who's families he owed a favor to. Well no favor to my family there, so I had to do it the hard way.
The only reason he even allowed me to test to join, he grudgingly admitted, was because of the letter Ryoko sensei sent with me.
The test was daunting, to say the least. He told me to fight one of his more advanced students, and the one he picked was definitely the one I would have wanted to fight the least. Tony was a 13 year old Brown belt, and Big, like he was a young power lifter. Despite that, he moved with a grace that hinted at a speed I could never hope match.
After bowing politely to and honorably to each other, Tony immediately fell into a Choki stance, an advanced and powerful stance that I hadn't learned yet, while I instinctively fell into the Baku, a very defensive stance.
Tony was more than twice my age, twice my size, and much more than twice my skill, and if I'm not mistaken, was that a killing intent!? I was scared! Even before the fight started I found myself taking a step backwards, a small but loud part of me screaming at me to run away, give up on this madness, and if I still wanted to practice, to go find some cheep dojo somewhere else.
No, my convictions wouldn't allow me to back down from a chosen path, even if I was going to die (again). I forcefully shelved my fear, stopped my shaking, and stepped into the Penchola stance, the most aggressive stance I was ever able to learn. I knew I couldn't win this fight, but acting defensive would only see my walls broken against an opponent like that, so I figured even if I have to take a few critical blows, I'd throw everything into landing a decent on him.
Sensei suddenly called a halt to the fight, and announced my acceptance into the Dojo. I almost didn't hear him or even believe it. He explained that the test was to see my determination, ability to sense the strength of my opponent, and method of response to a dire situation, and I passed all three.
I nearly collapsed shaking as all of my fears and adrenaline fled in that instant. That's what it all was about? I'm 6 years old damnit! You shouldn't expect that kind of perceptions from a damn 6 year old!
Other young students there later told me how they had to go through the same thing, so once again I was shocked and awed at how young these Mid-Childian kids grow up.
Aside from that, the training there was pretty normal. As much as I'd like to imagine otherwise, I wasn't that special. This place isn't Ryozanpaku and I'm not Shirahama Kenichi. There are students there far younger than me with far more talent than me, but none of that really mattered. I went and trained 2 hours a day on weekday evenings and 3 hours Sunday morning (Saturday off), and slowly built my way up the skills and ranks. Even now, when I'm 10 and a black belt, I find myself constantly repeating to myself that it's not enough, so I'll continue to train for as long as I can.
My goal however is to become a Mage, not a Martial Artist, so I won't devote too much time to the exercise.
Calendar Year 0069, January 25.
Happy new years!
As odd as it may seem to us earthlings, Mid-Childa follows the same calendar concept, yet the few equivalent holidays are oddly off. New years falls near the end of January, to celebrate the day of victory against the Form.
According to TV and my classes, a hundred years ago Mid-Childa was extremely primitive to what it is now. Oh, they had technology more advanced than my original Earth, but it was pure technology. Mages were around in excess there too, with over half of the army's combat division being specially trained mages, but the scientists didn't know how to fuse magic with technology yet.
Back then, the scope of the multiverse was rather small, because while some powerful mages could cross dimensions, it was all but impossible otherwise.
70 years ago, The Form came. The Form was an interdimentional race of aliens with technology far superior to our own. They weren't peaceful either. They came with big ships, big guns, and they wanted our magic and resources.
As outclassed as we were, the very object of their desire became the source of their demise. Our mages were able to hold them off or fight on even grounding, and for more than a year, the war dragged on at a stalemate.
In a bold maneuver, a small group of our illustrious mages was able to board and capture a battleship of the Form, then using it and techniques gained from the long conflict to gain more and more ground, until January 23rd, 69 years ago, when a final, massive rush on the Form's remaining fleet saw them completely annihilated.
The Form were not new to Magic, and had discovered ways to mix magic and technology, which is why their ships had interdimensional capabilities. By studying the remaining tech of our defeated enemies, our scientists were finally able to learn how to mix themselves, which lead to breakthrough after breakthrough and advancement after advancement until our society reached the level it exists at today.
When the first purely Mid-Childian made interdimensional transport ship, the "Entrepreneur" was launched, It heralded in a new age of prosper for Mid-Childa, and in recognition of that milestone, the new Calendar was initiated.
Aside from the historical significance, New years serves as the end of the school year, where Finals are scored, grades are handed out, and the transition to the next stage of education begins.
I didn't have to fake getting moderate grades afterall. As fast as I learned the language, my learning speed noticeably faded as I grew older, and Childian is a more complicated language than one would assume. History was completely different, and even Science and Math reached what I once knew as Collage level early on. This last year we were learning Quantum Trig and Magic Theory in conjunction, because QT was the level of Mathematical learning that it really starts to spill over into Magic equations.
I knew from the Nanoha Manga that magic here was equation driven. It's how Intelligent devices and Storage devices worked, they were basically computers that stored and ran the equations for you. I had no idea how complicated they actually were though.
It is a note of promise and relieve for me to actually understand how Magic works here too. Because they are mathematical, Magic is Finite. Equations held variables, but if you solved even one of the variables (such as magic energy supplied) you can easily solve for the rest, and identify exactly what effect will be made.
This is great! Now I'm not much for such a high degree of book learning, but just the concept alone opens up so many possibilities for me. If I were able to learn enough of the Magic theory, I could potentially alter or even create spells that could work for me, even despite my desperate lack of suppliable energy.
That's a long ways off though. We're only at the beginning of magic theory here, where the only equations we look at are from the simplest of spells, and I imagine that the limit we will be taught in mandatory schooling would be only enough to be able to effectively Use magic.
On another note, with the other related courses under our belt, we're going to learn basic casting next year. Mostly the spells we already know from the math courses, such as a simple Light spell, but it's something to look forward to nonetheless. I can theorize about magic all day, but if I can't actually cast anything then it's all for naught.
Calendar Year 0069, March 3
I celebrated Ethan's birthday today. That makes this body 11 years old, and nearly 8 years since I took it over. The parents threw a big part and lots of friends came over and we celebrated like it was 4-20 all over again. Quiet Nancy is having hers tomorrow. All the parents suggested holding them both together, since we were friends anyway, but all us kids rejected the idea.
A question I've been asking myself as I reviewed all the notes I've written before; Why do I still refer to Joseph and Margaret Frist as the Father and Mother? It's pretty obvious that this is my life now, so why do I speak of them in the privacy of my own mind with such an air of detachment?
After mulling over it for a while, I'd have to say it's because of fear.
I may be building this body up as a martial artist, a weaponless tool for killing, but I don't like to hurt people. I was a nice guy in my previous life, and it carries over to here too. Aside from that, I made the conviction that I would never kill anyone if I could help it, and I stick to my word no matter what. Should a kill or be killed situation ever occur, I've resolved myself to find another way out, or accept my being killed.
To that note, it takes me back to Ethan. I am not Ethan Frist. I am Fijisoma Naoko. Even if no fault lie with me, and that it was against my will, I possessed this body and have been using it ever since.
The doctors said that that which is me, namely the psychic possession that is Naoko, would quickly fade, allowing that which is Ethan to live on. That never happened. 6 months later, one year later, 8 years later, and Naoko still continues strong without more than a hint of the original Ethan ever showing himself.
I should probably accept that the original Ethan really is gone. It's been far too long for him to ever come back by now. I need to hold on to the hope that my time spent in and working on this body is nothing more than a house sitting until the true owner returns home. If I ever refer to Margaret or Joseph as 'my' parents, or if I ever refer to this body as 'my' body, then I feel that I would then have truly killed Ethan, and I'd never recover from that shame.
So for now, I'll continue on as I was, and hope that when (not if) Ethan himself does return that he'd appreciate the things I did for him and his.
Calendar Year 0071, April 29
It was all over the news. A massive fire broke out at the Mid-Childa Costal Airport 8. The Airport and most of the surrounding industry and city were reduced to rubble, yet there was no word as to the cause.
As I expected, much coverage was given to the Aces of the Time Space Administration Bureau for their quick and effective work in rescuing victims and controlling the disaster.
Specifically mentioned were the Ace of Aces in the TSAB; Head Areal Combat Instructor Nanoha Takamachi, Chief Navel Investigator Fate T. Harlaown, and a Major in the Ground Arms Divisions research and deployment department, Hayate Yagami. The news teams also went into a little bit about the history of these 16 year olds, and how their pasts tie in so closely to each other and why they are so influential today. The unclassified version at least.
I expected nothing less. My place in this world may not yet be decided, but I'm pretty confident that it won't cross their paths, which means that everything I know about the future from my past will probably still occur as expected. Maybe I could trick someone into thinking I was a fortune teller…
When I was 6, the Father was sent off on a long mission of a classified nature, leaving me stuck babysitting the crybaby of a mother. It wasn't bad. I went to school, cooked dinner, and otherwise consoled her threatened to cry again for no reason.
After about a month, the Father returned, however he wasn't at his best. While on the mission in another dimension, he was defeated and his Linker Core stolen.
So the book of Darkness incident. That means that I missed both it and the Jewel seeds, but at least it proved that this universe really was canoncentric. That was confirmed a week later as the TSAB released the official story surrounding the Tome of the Night Sky to the media, including meritorious mention to the 3 9-year-old assistant mages who were instrumental in the resolution of the incident.
The Father never fully recovered from having his Linker Core drained. Young people can heal their magic quickly, but it's not the same for adults. In response to that, the "nice" people in charge of the Ground Arms Division saw fit to re-assign the Father and us to Flaken, where he could have a nice relaxing desk job arranging for transport and deployment of the more active troops and mages.
Ever since that day, The father lost some of his energy, his luster. While he seemed cheerful and personable on the outside, those of us who were close to him could always see that small hole left behind, and to this day it's always been a point of shame and hurt for us. Even as we watch the news of the fire, you could see the envy in his eyes, how he so desperately wants to be there helping, yet the quiet acceptance that he can't.
I will always remember that look in his eyes, and I pray that I'll never do something like that to Ethan who's body I still control. Instead of scaring me away though, it helps serve to strengthen my conviction to press forward and excel.
Next year I turn 14, and can finally join the TSAB myself.
…end prologue.
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Next time... Training Begins.
Chapters may be slow on release, due to my own laziness and lack of writing skill. Reviews help. Alot. Flames will be blithly ignored. Thank you.