Author Notes: First off, this chapter series isn't a direct prequal to "National Disasters", an attempt at a crossover between EBA and Osu! Tatakae! Ouendan; "direct" meaning that there will be moments in "National Disaster" where the Agents will reflect on certain plots, but with different results than what'll be shown later in this series. And though there will be some obvious clues that the Ouendan have encountered EBA (and may run into them again), please note that this will not be a full-on crossover.
Episode 1: Uncomfortable Reunion
Why... Why haven't they come...?
The currents of the Pacific Ocean thrash wildly as a rainstorm bullies the once tame water. The remains of a cruise boat are caught in the scuffle, getting tossed around like volleyballs. Among them is a slightly tubby man with slick, shoulder long hair, tied back in a ponytail, wearing a black, government-like suit. He clutches onto a piece of a dance floor shattered by the impacts of the savage waves.
For hours, the man drifted along with the currents, struggling to stay conscious and above water while waiting for help to arrive. So far, he sees nothing but raging waters for miles.
Is this how they really work...? Dancin' and singin' without the least bit of carin' as to who gets in their way or who gets left in the dust?
The more he thought about it, the angrier he becomes. Gripping the corners of the dance floor, he used what little strength he had left in his freezing body to swim through the untamed environment; retracing every direction the cruise had made before it was utterly destroyed.
To think I was fooled into believin' they would look out for me an' my family. If they think I ain't worth the effort in rescuin', then go ahead and ditch me. I'll make sure no one else in my family gets involved in your biased beliefs.
As he swims away, two wallets left on the edge of the dance floor slowly began to slide off into the water. Like hungry beasts, the waves swallow them up; their flaps opening to reveal a license with pictures, one of a man with shades and a fedora, the other of a woman with shades stylized to look like dove wings and dreadlocks tied in a high ponytail, as well as a police-like badge with leaves covering either side of the shield-like design and "E.B.A. CENTRAL" etched below the star symbol.
The neighborhood of Manhattan glows an array of red, orange and yellow as a fire of catastrophic proportions eats away at a tall house in the middle of the area. The man, having survived the swim back to the mainland, watches with bitter remorse.
I'll destroy everythin' that connects to their ruthless agency. This family will no longer become mindless wildebeest waitin' to be fed to the lions.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wallet matching the ones that vanished into the depths of the ocean. He stares at it with even bitter remorse as he grips it to the point of crumbling it up.
I'll make sure you never lay a hand on them again. This family is done bein' fooled.
Arching his arm back, he hurls the wallet into the burning monstrosity, watching as it slowly began to melt, badge and all. Satisfied, he turns and walks away, never looking back at what he had caused.
Six months had passed since then...
Spin is roused out of bed by the loud beeping of his digital alarm clock. Groaning with fatigue, he slams his hand on the snooze button before using it as support to pull his head up and check the time; 10:00am.
Today was not a good day for him to be his usual, party-hardy self. It was his father's birthday and, despite wanting to sleep the whole day off, knew he couldn't leave his uncle unattended for fear that he may have started drinking again. Sighing in frustration, he rolled out of bed, revealing his faded, loose jeans and white, sleeveless shirt; threw on his black, leather jacket, brown hiking boots and dark green lens wayfarers; wrapped a large pair of headphones around his neck before heading out of his one space, CD littered apartment.
Once outside, Spin heads to the garage where his rusted, color fading, front hood dented convertible sits. He didn't like the car because of its habit of breaking down at the most inadequate time, but he knew it's the only way of get to and from his uncle's crib without having to wait for a bus or taxi.
Spin pries the rusted door open and hops inside, turning the ignition only to hear it practically scream in agony. He tries several more times before feeling a jolt, followed by the hissing of the engine crapping out. Mouthing a cuss in frustration while slamming his hand against the stirring wheel, Spin jumps out and runs to the sidewalk of the neighborhood.
Upon arrival, he saw a taxi driving towards him; a shaking, brown haired man wearing a green coat and business glasses sat at the helm. The man appears to be a wreck, eyeing the speedometer every 15 seconds. Spin recognizes the driver from last year when he needed a lift to a concert and learned about his bad habit of shifting into overdrive when pressured to transport someone to a certain destination.
Spin knew he shouldn't tempt the driver into overtaxing the speed limit in order to get him to his uncle's place, but the thought of the old man put himself into more danger made him less likely to care. Waving his arms up and down, he manages to grab the driver's attention, watching as he slowed to a stop beside him. He could hear the driver constantly reminding himself about the prohibition of his license if he clocked over the speed limit again. This made Spin very uncomfortable.
"'ey, man!" he began, "I need to get to 1340 Duel Ave, pronto!"
Unfortunately, "pronto" didn't seem like the right choice of word to tell the driver as he just stares at Spin, blue in the forehead while shaking profusely before screaming "HELP" at the top of his lungs and zooming off at blinding speed.
"No, wait! You didn't let me get in!" Spin screams as he hops on a skateboard, without even caring who it belongs to, and rushes off after the cab, barely managing to keep up with the tail end.
The chase lasted an hour. By then, Spin had found himself in town, trying to outmaneuver several people, all of which he didn't stop to apologize.
The chase eventually halts when Spin collides with a male brute, twice as big as him, wearing an orange t-shirt with purple trimmings on the sleeves and collar and a small "Nuts & Nuts" logos near his right shoulder, back and sleeves; his face so twisted in rage, not only was he all teeth, his eyes could barely be seen amidst the mass of wrinkles from the expression.
The impact threw the unfortunate chaser to the concrete sidewalk while gaining a frighteningly aggravated glare from the brute who, despite not feeling much from the collision, trembles in more rage than shown.
"You brat!" he snarled, "You're lucky I got more nutz in da truck, or I'd smash yer snotty li'l face in!" Spin could see that his impact with the large man had caused him to drop a can of "Sarcastic Nuts & Nuts", spilling it all over the ground beside him.
The man's raged expression increases to the point of veins jumping out of various parts of his forehead as he stomps off towards a pickup truck with the same label and color as his shirt, but with a mascot resembling a peanut painted on the far left corner. Along the way, he steps on the skateboard Spin used to chase down the taxi, obliviously snapping it in half.
Spin watches as the brute steps into the truck, pulls out and drive off, muttering inaudible curse slurs as he did. He then looks in front of him where he last saw the taxi, acknowledging his defeat in the chase.
"Shoot, man!" he groaned, getting up and dusting himself off, "Now how'm I gonna get to Uncle's crib!?"
"You seem to be in an awful big hurry," said a voice from behind. Spin straightens up and turns around to see three men in black suits and shades standing behind him. The one on the left had a black, short afro, a gray fedora and huge shades; the one in the middle had a large, twisted, orange pompadour and amber sports shades; the last man on the right had a red afro larger than the one on the left and red, thin sports shades.
Spin didn't know what to make of the situation, but he didn't have time to explain the big rush.
"I am in a hurry, yo!" he exclaims, "It's Pop's birthday and I have to get to Uncle's crib as soon as possible!"
"Say no more, kid," the one in the middle said, "We happen to be heading in your direction anyway. You can hang with us if you don't mind sitting in the middle."
Spin threw his hands up in protest and backs away.
"Whoa, with all do respect," he said, "I have an emergency, but I don't think it's serious enough to get the government involved."
"For starters, we aren't from the government," the man on the right said, rather sternly.
"And besides," the man on the left said, coolly, "We ain't got anythin' better to do at the moment. Why not help a brother out a little?"
"Sounds to me like you've been outvoted, kid," the middle man says as he walks over and threw his arm around the back of Spin's neck, "But don't worry. You can trust us. It's not like we're intending to kidnap you or anything."
"I suppose not, but why'd you wanna help me in the first place?" Spin asks as the pompadour haired man escorts him to a black convertible, "You don't look like the kind of people who'd willin'ly offer someone a ride."
"Oh, I have my reasons," the man said, "I'll explain once we're on the road."
Spin didn't seem sure of what was going on, but figures it best to take up an offer rather than refuse and wind up walking three miles to his Uncle's place, which by then would've given him enough time to drink up something bad. He climbs into the back of the convertible and seats himself in the middle. The rest follow suit, the two afro haired men sitting on either side of Spin, making it somewhat of a tight squeeze, while the pompadour haired man took the wheel, oddly placed in the middle of the front seat.
Once everyone was situated, the pompadour haired man fires up the engine and drives off down the street. Throughout three minutes of the trip, Spin looks between the men sitting on either side of him, doing nothing but stare ahead, one crossing his arms while the other had one arm resting on the side.
"So, you helpin' your Uncle plan a surprise party for your pop?" the driver asked. Spin looks towards him before scoffing and leaning back, crossing his arms and legs while scrunching his head between his shoulders.
"As if," he mumbled, "My parents died in a rainstorm during a cruise trip to the Bahamas to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. Uncle got devastated and began plasterin' himself to the point where he was hospitalized for obliviously downin' a deadly combination of alcohol. Courts ruled it an attempt suicide and now I have to make a trip to Uncle's crib every now and then to make sure he doesn't do anythin' that'll land him back in the hospital."
"Wow, that's harsh," the driver said, sounding more sympathetic than he looks, "We've lost a few friends on that cruise too."
"Really?" Spin asked, sitting up straight.
"J, I don't think it's a good idea to start bringing it up," the red afro man said.
"Derek's right, man," the other afro man said, "If the kid thinks there's more to the accident six months ago than an ironic similarity, he might take the situation personally and do somethin' to resolve it."
"You worry too much, Morris," J said with a confident smirk, "I'm sure he's aware that whatever happened to our EBA buddies and his parents are pure coincidence."
"EBA?" Spin asked, curiously.
"Elite Beat Agents, brother," Morris said, "I'm surprised you didn't know about them. They're a world wide sensation."
"They specialize in using music to push troubled people towards their goals," Derek explains, "No matter who they are or what kind of rut they dug themselves into, it's EBA's job to make sure they dig themselves back out before it winds up being their grave."
Spin frowns as he cocks his head to the side in thought before uncrossing his legs and clenching his fists in realization.
"Ah, yeah! Now I remember!" he said, excitedly, "I heard about them cats! Everyone says they're the coolest, most generous people on the planet!" J nods in agreement, seeming to gloat on each word that came out of Spin's mouth.
"Too bad my uncle don't agree," Spin continues with a shrug, causing J's gloating grin to fade, "He says people who treat dancin' and singin' like a job are nothin' but brainless twits who should get a life."
J's cocky frown tightens with anger as he slams his foot on the brakes, causing the convertible to come to a screeching halt. Spin throws his hands into the backrest of the front seat to avoid planting his face into it, while Morris calmly grabs his fedora to keep it from flying off his head and Derek barely flinches from the jolt. Noticing the sudden air of silence, along with the two men turning their heads towards him, Spin quickly pushes back, throwing his hands up in defense.
"Whoa! 'ey! Don't get me wrong here," he protests, "Just 'cause I love Unc' doesn't mean I take every word he says. He wouldn't know the meanin' of song and dance if it blasts him in the ear." He then throws his hands onto his chest, grinning sheepishly, "Me, on the other hand; if I'd met them dawgs in person, I'd ask if I can be in their agency faster than a DJ can turn a record."
"Are you sayin' you've never met these guys in person?" Morris asks, sounding more surprised than he looks.
"Nah, man," Spin said, waving his hand up and down, "I ain't had an overbearin' problem since I was old enough to remember. Our family strives on confidence, no matter what obstacles try to slow us down." He then leans back and crosses his arms and legs again, "And that's why, even when my car clonked out on me, I never felt the urge to scream for help."
Derek muffled a grunt as he looks to J who hadn't moved since his abrupt stop.
"I don't know, J," he muttered, "He has strong patience, but I'm worried about how much he knows his own family. If his uncle really is one of our buddies that was caught in that storm, the reasons for not informing us of his survival may have something to do with the other two that are still lost." Spin looks towards Derek in confusion.
"Yeah, man," Morris agrees, "For all we know, he could've destroyed anythin' that would've given the kid some idea of what his parents were really up to."
"Wait a minute," Spin said, looking between Derek and Morris, "Are you guy's members of the Geek Squad too?"
"Geek Squad!?" Morris nearly wails.
"Well, my family was famous for respondin' to any computer problem a person might have. Everytime someone cries for help, they just grab their stuff and rush out. I'd have thought hearin' someone cry for help from miles away would be near impossible, but in this day and age with the way technology's goin', ain't nothin' on this planet that'd wind up in an episode of the X-Files."
"Hey kid," J finally spoke up, moving one arm to the backrest while turning to face Spin, "Didn't you find anything in your parent's crib that seemed a bit out of the ordinary to you."
Spin cocks an eyebrow, "Out of the ordinary? Shoot, as far as I'm concerned, livin' in a house with enough devices to make James Bond green with envy is anythin' but unorthodox. It may be a little overwhelming usin' those devices just to respond to a computer crisis. But if they say it's a faster method of seekin' and fixin' computers, I'd much prefer to stay outta their way than convince them of less freaky alternatives."
He then hunches over, placing his right elbow on his knee while resting his head on the hand attached to it and using the other hand to play around with the left side of his headphones, "When I heard about the accident, I headed over there to collect some stuff just for memorial purposes. I ain't been in there five minutes when Uncle comes bustin' in and destroys everythin' that's wired with technology, then burns the entire house to the ground. I figured it was one of his ways of puttin' the past behind him and movin' on." He sits back again and readjusts his shades, "And all I got out of that five minute scavenger hunt is Pop's specs, these headphones I found hangin' off the mannequin in Ma's closet and some red band that looks like an upside down star with the Japanese word for 'cheer' written on it."
"You didn't happen to find anything that looked unfamiliar to you?" J asked. Spin cocks his head to one side.
"Unfamiliar? Ain't nothin' in that house that my parents would hide from me. It's almost like they were expectin' me to use them when I'm good 'n ready." Spin brings his head back to an upright position as he thinks some more, "Although, I did see Uncle take out a wallet with some kind of license and a badge. I tried to get a closer look at it, but he chucks it into the fire before I could read the letters on the license. 'BA'-somethin' I think it was..."
"Wouldn't happen to look like this, would it?" J asks again, bringing up a wallet similar to what Spin described.
"Yeah! That's it!" Spin proclaims. He then bends over slightly to stare at the etchings on the lower center of the badge, "EB..." he suddenly sits back and points at the badge in shock, "You're kidding!"
"Nope. This here is genuine Elite Beat Agent material. No counterfeiter in the world can forge a badge like this and con people into thinkin' they're one of us."
Spin sits straight up with excitement, "Ah, man! I can't believe this! My parents are really Agents!?"
"The oldest members in the history of EBA," Morris said, "Them cats were the reason we're still in business today."
"Oh, wow! I bet Uncle's gonna flip when he sees you! Maybe now he won't be wastin' his life away on booze and anger and help me fit in with you guys!"
"Let's hope he does," J said as he puts the wallet away and turns his attention back to the front of the road to continue driving.
The convertible pulls up to the front of a modern looking house with a white, 5ft fence blocking the view of the backyard. Spin hops out of the car and runs towards the door, turning the knob only to feel it stop 3inches. Cursing under his breath, he rang the doorbell getting no response.
"Are you sure he didn't go out somewhere?" J asked from the car.
"I wish," Spin grumbled to himself, knowing his Uncle would be too busy plastering himself to even think of coming out the front door. Fed up with the ignorance, he sprints over to the fence, jumps up and grabs the edge, using it as support to catapult himself onto the other side.
The back of the neighborhood shared a lake wide enough for boat riding and other water activity. But today, it seemed the only occupants in the water were a couple of ducks that appear to be taking a break from their trip south to escape the upcoming winter season.
Spin found a dark skinned man somewhere in his mid-late 30's, wearing a white muscle-T, that all but hid his beer gut, and knee-high shorts. He sat in the middle of the lawn taking up most of the area around his house with roughly seven bottles of bourbon cluttered around him and another in his hand; staring out at the lake as though it were a TV. Spin tries hard not to look disgusted by how much liquor the man may have consumed before he got here.
"Hey, Uncle! Wazzup!" he yelled, barely getting a three second glance from the beer-bellied slob before turning back where he was originally looking.
"Can't you see I'm busy!?" he grumbled, his speech slurred from the effects of the bourbon, "Go away and leave me alone!"
"Busy!?" Spin complained, walking to his uncle and grabbing one of the empty bourbon bottles, "You call drowning yourself in booze busy!?" he threw the bottle behind him, causing it to shatter upon impact with the fence he jumped over, "Uncle! This...junk is the reason you've been put on suicide watch! You shouldn't treat Pop's birthday like it was the worst moment of your life!"
"Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do!?" Spin's uncle said, whirling around to face him, "Do you take my advice when I tell you what's right and wrong!? I tried to warn you that frivolous activities will not get you a paying job. Now look at you! Living in a small apartment and barely making money off selling bootlegged CDs to the black market to put food on the table!" Spin's annoyance increased as his uncle turns his back on him, "You think you know everything and have the right to control my life. You're no better than those brain-dead monkeys in black suits, thinking they can save lives by dancing like idiots!"
"Brain-dead monkeys!? I'm appalled!" called a sarcastic voice. The uncle's face twists into a raging snarl as Spin turns to see J sitting on top of the fence, legs crossed, with his head resting on his fist as the arm attached to it rests on his knee, the other arm pressed against his side and a cocky smirk on his face, "Weren't you the one who was all for the idea of busting moves and motivating people to fight their problems?"
"What the hell...!? Get outta my yard!" Spin's uncle yelled, getting up and throwing one of his empty bottles at J, who grabs the fence for support as he drops back, letting the bottle sail over him. He then throws his body forward, launching him off the fence and landing safely on the grassy surface of the yard.
"C'mon!" J said as he unlatches and opens the fence, allowing Morris and Derek to walk in, "It's been six months since we last saw you, Agent Techno! I'd expect you'd be happy to see us!"
"What's to be happy with, you gang of wannabe cheerleaders!?" Techno grabbed the entire collection of bourbon bottles and throws them at the trio, forcing them to jump high into the air and land on the other side of the yard near the two.
"I still can't believe you were an EBA, Unc!" Spin said enthusiastically, "Why didn't you tell me after all these months of sittin' around drinkin' yourself to death!?"
"Because I don't want you gettin' mixed up in their careless schemes!" Techno growls angrily, shooting a bloodshot eye towards the trio standing behind him, "These so-called 'supporters' say they can help a person get through their dilemmas, but what they really care about is their own stinkin' performance! Even when we were caught in that storm, they barely lifted a finger to come and find us!"
"Hey, cut us some slack here," J said, throwing his arm around the back of Techno's neck and pressing his finger into his cheek, "How could we ditch such fine agents like you? You're our role models!" Veins started to appear on Techno's aggravated face, "When we got word that the unit was caught in a storm six months ago, most of our time was spent looking for clues to their whereabouts." He took his finger off Techno's cheek and observed his appearance, "Though, I imagined you'd be a lot thinner than this. Perhaps if you'd given us a sign that you were still alive, we could've helped you get back into sha-"
"Don't you dare try to be buddy-buddy with me, you rat!" Techno yelled, knocking J's arm off and shoving him towards the edge of the embankment leading to the lake.
"Whoa! Hey! What's with the hostilities, man!?" J yelped as he struggled to regain balance, his heels dangerously close to the edge towering over the deep and dark waters. Techno began marching towards him with rage still present on his drunken face.
"You think you can trick my nephew into believin' you care about everyone you shimmy to?" he growled as he neared J, who cringes from the sight and tries to back away only to realize how close he was to the pool's edge, "They was all I had, my family, my blood, my life! And you dare say they a role model when you didn't have the decency to come runnin' to their aide when they needed it the most!?" he gets into J's face, forcing him to bend back, "You don't even deserve to claim that my brother had anythin' to do with whatever shenanigans you learned six months after the day you let them die!"
J continues to bend back the more Techno got into his face before his left foot slips on the muddy grass. He yelps, flapping his arms to regain his balance, but was too bent back to even lift his head, causing him to fall into the lake. Spin cringes as Morris and Derek turn to look at the bubbles piling up from where J fell. It took almost a minute before the misfortunate agent resurfaces, spitting out a mouth full of water; his large pompadour now a flat mess of bangs covering his entire face, to which he shook to one side.
A shadow engulfs J as he looks up to see Techno practically tower over him, the angry expression never leaving his face.
"People say you Agents are the heroes who help them overcome their worst obstacles," Techno growled, "but I ain't no fool. Not after what you did to my brother six months ago!"
"W-wait a minute! Hear us out, will ya!?" J stutters as he brings his arms up in defense while floating back a couple inches.
"I'm through hearing your lame excuses! I'm through thinkin' that you actually have a part in people's stress relief when the only thing you do is force people to fight their own problems! Y'all nothin' but a bunch of loons who believe song and dance can make a change in a persons life!" Techno then turns and storms off towards the house, forcing Morris and Derek to calmly step away from each other as they were standing in his path.
"Uncle!" Spin exclaims, but by the time he attempts to run after Techno, the glass door slides shut with a loud bang. Morris and Derek merely glance towards the door before turning and walking over to J who drops his hands back below to surface to support his buoyancy.
"That could've gone better," J sighs as Morris and Derek reach their hands out towards him, to which he reaches both hands up to grab. With one heave, the two haul J out of the water and onto the embankment.
"Hey, y'all alright?" Spin asks as he runs over to the trio.
"Eh, it's nothing a little hair gel couldn't fix," J said with a shrug.
"I'm worried about Techno, though," Morris said, "he used to be all about cheerin' people up. Is he really intent on makin' us look like bad guys?"
"Even if he tried, I doubt he'll get anyone to believe him," J said while shaking some water from his arms, "I felt that dark vibe coming from Techno when he shoved me. It wasn't just the fear of his family getting slaughtered by, what he believed to be, our cynical duty, but also the emotional pain he suffered when we didn't respond to his situation fast enough."
"The fact is," Derek began, "Since Techno's alive, there's a small chance that Twist and Twirl are alive as well. I think it's best that we inform the Commander about this before we worry about what to do afterwards."
"Yeah, you're right," J said before turning his attention to Spin, "I suppose you're sitting this one out?"
Spin shrugs sympathetically, "With all do respect, man. I'd love to go with you, but after what happened just now, I'm bettin' Uncle's rootin' through his wine cellar for somethin' strong to guzzle down. I should probably just lay low 'til he calms down before decidin' my future." J sighs a bit before shrugging.
"Well, it may be a while before we run into each other again, but if you think its best."
Spin watches as the agents head out of the yard before sighing himself and heading towards the house, sliding the glass door open and walking inside.
End Notes:
1. Yes, in case you aren't aware, that "strange band" Spin mentioned is the armband worn by the Ouendan. The reasons will be explained either in the next chapter or later in the series.
2. The reason Spin's mother is an Agent rather than a Diva will also be explained in the next chapter.
