Title: A Day in the Life
Characters: Niwa Daisuke, Hiwatari Satoshi, Hikari Krad, Mousy Dark, Harada Riku, Harada Risa
Notes: I will be using the Japanese Honorific system in speech, but possibly not the way it is used originally. This fic is set in an alternate universe, so the relations that exist between the characters in the manga and/or anime may/may not be portrayed in this little fan fiction. However, I will be keeping to the American way outside of dialogue. Don't murder me over this. The disclaimer, though it will apply to the entire work, will only be posted on the title page. I'm also changing Satoshi's hair color to something natural (though it is technically canon if you look at the colored version of the drawing between The Second Hand of Time parts 8 and 9), and changing Krad's eye color to green.
Things said in English with be in bold for your viewing pleasure.
Warnings: Possible slash content and dark themes in later chapters. Cursing will probably be here (along with potentially sexual comments from Dark), but I'm not going to drop the F-Bomb.
Rated T for teen and not tentacle porn, possibly OT in later chapters
F-Bomb to me is basically "F'in' f'ing f'er", not someone screaming it at the top of their lungs when an arm is broken off.
(Image:)You can see it here: dnangel. angst-boi. net (slash) images (slash) asuka (slash) colour (slash) ASUKA-colour-07. jpg
Disclaimer: I am Sugisaki Yukiru. Now that I have successfully lied to the readers and have a legal notice on the way from all the anal people on the site: none of the characters belong to me. If they did, it'd be pretty retarded to be posting this on a fan fiction site.
This is a story about life. It's a story about stereotypes, a story about the people we see everyday–the people we never truly see. This is a story about a self-proclaimed "playa", a rich kid, a jock, someone everyone took advantage of, a stuck-up, and a nerd. It's a story about life and all it's little pieces.
It's a story everyone knows, one that we've heard a thousand times over. The kind that should really begin with "Once upon a time", but if it did, it'd ruin the purpose. Once upon a time stories are for the past and soften the true meaning until it is a mere blur on the page, missed by most and forgotten by all. I don't believe in Once upon a time because history repeats itself. Once upon a time is happening now, but because it's only a folk-tale, many people don't even bother to look for it.
That being said: Right before our very eyes….
--
It was times like these, she figured everyone thought she was a race horse. Faster, faster, faster, harder, stronger, more, more, more, more, more! She doubted she'd get a chance to do her homework that night as the coach continued to bark orders from the sidelines. For a moment, she thought about asking for a break and paused long enough to run a hand through her burgundy, sweaty hair, and caught a glimpse of a familiar figure passing through the courtyard: Dark Mousy. She didn't like him, the pervert with the obviously dyed eggplant-colored hair and dark eyes, and had no idea what anyone saw in him. She proceeded to glare at him as he continued to chit-chat with the horde of girls that followed him everywhere, but the coach would have nothing of it.
"Move it, Harada!"
"Yes, sir!" she jumped, brown eyes a little wider than usual and began to run the track again.
--
'I can't see where I'm going,' he thought as he tried to peek around the large stack of plastic trays in his arms. Technically, Takeshi was supposed to be doing this, he knew, but the louder boy had to be at a meeting or something and the red-head had been more than happy to help him out, not even thinking that usually two people had gotten the job of taking the lunch trays back to the cafeteria. It didn't matter, he liked helping others and the others seemed to appreciate it anyway. He was so caught up in his thoughts he forgot to watch where he was going–or really, staring at his feet and hoping he was going the right way–and stepped on crack between two cement tiles just different enough in height to send him fumbling to not drop his load.
As he righted himself, he saw her and his face lit up to match his hair. She was just standing there, catching her breath, looking as beautiful as ever. She was Riku Harada, and she was… apparently getting yelled at by a teacher. Not wanting to watch, he hurried away only to trip on nothing and sent sprawling to the ground.
--
It seemed he had chosen a prime time to glance up from his book and gaze out the window. The chance to see Daisuke Niwa fall flat on his face was priceless, even if it was a rather sad thing to watch. He felt sorry for him with the way everyone left him to do everything, but not that the boy never refused. If he wouldn't stand up for himself, the tow headed boy decided not to care.
Still, he couldn't help but stare as he seemed to be holding back tears as he began to gather the fallen, and dirty again, trays. He couldn't help himself then, and stood to help him with it. He'd only fall again anyway and it would be forever before he reached the cafeteria. "Can I help you with that?"
--
She huffed. He'd gotten away again! If Satoshi Hiwatari was so hard to catch, no wonder he was considered undateable. She'd only considered him recently because he was the only boy in her grade that had yet to show an interest in anyone–and she knew; she had her sources–and now she could almost understand why no one'd gotten a chance yet. This boy was always either hiding or on the move. 'And damn, he's fast for a stick.' But she wouldn't give up, she decided as she flipped perfect brown hair out of her eyes, even if–
Ok, ew. He was talking to that nice kid. He was associating with the likes of that Niwa boy. Niwa! The most insane family in town, and the love of her life was talking to him. She proceeded to watch from a distance, waiting for a chance to strike but not daring to get closer. Niwa probably had cooties or something.
--
He blinked his emerald eyes as he watched one of the underclassmen get stalked by another–wasn't her name Risa?–with a reputation for sleeping around. Of course, the blonde could only rely on hear-say since he'd only been attending since last week. Then again, he wasn't sure if he was understanding what was being said since he'd only been in the country for a month. No matter how pissed he was at his parents, he couldn't help be thankful for the foreign language classes he'd been made to take.
Not that being fluent in Latin, French, German, English, Spanish, Russian, and some Native American dialect that had died out last century would help him much right now, but it was almost a nice sentiment. Moving to Japan gave "Everything I needed to know I learned from anime" a whole new meaning for him.
"Oi, Krad!"
Oh, God.
--
Very pleased with himself, he wrapped an arm around Krad Hikari's shoulders. Foreigners, he had learned in class–but he wasn't paying attention, nuh-uh, and if you say anything otherwise, he'd pound you–, were used to the touchy-feely stuff and called each other by their first name. Besides, this was one way to escape the chicks. He liked the ladies, really he did, but he didn't need first-years humping his leg; it'd been illegal for a month now. Damn Birthdays.
"Mousy-san, please don't hang on me," if this guy thought he was impressive with his unnecessarily high politeness, he had another thing coming.
Besides, everyone knew the non-Japanese couldn't speak the Language of the Gods perfectly; it was down-right impossible.
But if Krad wanted to take a shot at the language barrier, he could play that game as well: "What? You are not like it?" No one ever said his English was perfect. Krad cringed, but didn't answer verbally, instead brushing off the offending limb and walking away. Crazy gaijin and their messed-up personalities.
AN: This is the really only the prologue, so there isn't much of a plot or anything right now. I just wanted something out in the open to give me an incentive to work on it. (Though, I do admit I want to cover a wide range of genres)
AAN: I replaced this chapter since I found a typo, and it's safe to say that I have some kind of plot stirring in my head and I hope to get another chapter churned out soon.
AAAN: I've replaced a few chapters for small errors and bold-faced type. This should be the last time I do this.
