Disclaimer: I do not own Lucky Star or any of the characters/plot points/dialogue associated with it.
Of Galge and Imaginary Friends
Prologue
In a Japanese hospital bed, a tiny blue-haired toddler sat beside what appeared to be an equally-blue-haired middle-schooler. Most would assume them to be sisters and the daughters of the man-also with blue hair, though his was of a duller color than the room's other occupants-sleeping nearby.
However, appearances can be deceiving. In reality, the creepy, old-looking man was actually the bedridden woman's spouse, and the toddler their daughter; while difficult for many, including the doctors tending the weakening woman's health, to grasp, listening to the little girl's interaction with her parents reveals their relationship.
"Mommy, look!" the miniscule girl shouted in a high-pitched voice, holding a poorly-drawn, even for a toddler, picture of her family standing outside the hospital.
Two brilliantly green eyes opened a little to look, but had to blink away the bright light of the hospital lights. Squinting to look at her daughter's drawing, she could not bother repressing her giggle, just as childlike as her appearance. "It's very good, Konata," she responded, before closing her eyes again and leaning back onto her pillow.
Used to her mother's behavior in the hospital, a place the family frequented far too often, the girl named Konata beamed and continued drawing in her untidy way, and she was soon the only conscious person in the room.
This became a problem for her very quickly, when her tiny tummy grumbled.
Pouting and glaring at her stomach with all the menace a two-year-old could muster, Konata considered her options. She could wait for the nurses to come with her mother's food tray…but they only came when the little hand was to the right of the big one, and it would be a while until that happened. That meant that she only had one option.
She threw a crayon at her father.
Now, for a toddler, Konata was extremely gifted with physical activities, like walking and running, and this showed in her impeccable aim. Her father's head, sleeping as he was in a chair, was tilted backward, so he provided two small holes his daughter subconsciously aimed at.
Therefore, Izumi Soujirou woke to a blue crayon sinking into his right nostril.
How did that get there? he wondered while sneezing several times. After a few seconds of this, he finally reached his long limbs up and pulled out the offending drawing implement, before looking up at the sound of heavy, childish laughter. Ah, so that explains it, continued the still-partially-asleep father. Detective Soujirou solves the case again!
Finally reducing her laughter to giggles, Konata opened her mouth to speak, but got interrupted by her stomach. She glared at the offending organ again.
Her father chuckled. "So Konata is hungry," he stated simply.
Seemingly forgetting her hatred for her midsection, the little child beamed up at the blue-haired man and said, without apology for waking Soujirou at all, "Yes!"
"Konata," an amused- and annoyed-sounding voice spoke from the bed, "what did we say about asking politely?"
"You said, 'Pwease do it,' Mommy," came the regretless reply. Nevertheless, Konata turned toward her father. "Sowwy, Daddy. Pwease get me food!"
"If you don't know the way, then I guess I'll do it," Soujirou teased his daughter. Knowing that the tiny tot would be absolutely offended by this, he hastened towards his wife. "I'll be right back, Kanata," he said in a rare, tender, slightly sad voice.
Kanata smiled up at him warmly and weakly pushed him toward the door, saying, "If you don't go, Konata might impale you with more Crayons."
Another chuckle, and he was gone, leaving the two too-small women alone. Konata noticed her mother's expression change from its normal, happy state to a more tired, sad one.
"Mommy?" she asked with surprising quietness. No response came immediately, but soon tears were forming in Kanata's drooping eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, my dear Konata," a wavering voice that sounded little like Izumi Kanata came from her mouth. "Be good for Mommy. I love you. I love you and your Daddy."
This was what Konata would tell her father were Kanata's last words, and it seemed like they might be for a few minutes as the toddler stared at her mother. "Mommy?" Konata questioned in a trembling manner. She might not have known what exactly was going on, but she did not like it.
Kanata sighed softly and smiled slightly at her daughter. "You know," she mused, mostly to herself, "life is like those games your father likes to play when I'm not around."
A moment of silence passed before Kanata directly addressed her daughter, though her voice was steadily growing drowsier. "Life is like a video game," she said softly as her eyes drifted closed, "except everybody in the world is playing, affecting everybody else. Because a little girl stopped and let a car go first, she might have saved the life of another child who would grow to become the next great thinker.
"Life is like a video game, Konata," said girl's mother finished before drifting off to sleep for the last time.
An hour later, Izumi Kanata's heart stopped beating.
Though they tried their hardest, the doctors could not revive their long-time patient, and many broke down at the sight of the tall, creepy, kind-hearted man they had grown to like sob uncontrollably by Kanata's bed.
However, to the concern of many present (Soujirou was far too preoccupied to notice), Konata did not cry, nor did unshed tears fill her eyes. She simply trembled in her father's tight, comfort-seeking embrace.
It would be months before Soujirou was anywhere close to his normal state of mind, and well over a year before Konata was convinced he would ever be alright again. By this time, her father had noticed the lack of tears coming from his child, who had been very clingy and loud as a baby, though her tone of voice would always become sadder if they broached the topic of Kanata, something that would not happen for many years to come. To distract his daughter, he introduced her to games, and she begun her ascent to the title of "Legendary Girl A."
Throughout all of this, in Konata's head, her mother's last words echoed over and over, becoming her motto, her reality.
"Life is like a video game, Konata."
Many years later, Konata awoke surprisingly early, but she kept her eyes closed, knowing what would happen once she opened them. It was peaceful, she realized, as she didn't have the pressure to raise her Friendship and Affection when she could not see it.
That would change, though, like it did every day.
Might as well start now, the short, blue-haired girl said. A cat-like grin graced her lips as her eyes opened to her usual half-lidded state. In her vision, she could see everything around her perfectly, but she also saw other things. Specifically, sidebars not unlike those one might see in a video game.
"Life is like a video game, Konata," her mother's voice echoed through her head as she prepared for her first day of high school.
Unseen by the rooms occupant, the ghost of Izumi Kanata watched, an ethereal sweat drop gracing her pale, translucent features.
"I didn't mean it literally," she said, exasperated, as she listened to her daughter muttering about friendship and affection levels.
The familiar pull back to the person she, for whatever reason, seemed to be haunting tugged on her. Kanata gave a last, loving, longing look to her daughter before allowing it to pull her along.