Hello everyone I just wanted to say that I love Eureka Seven and thought that this would be a good time to post this story. it's my first time so please be nice!

The house was empty. Eureka knew it when she entered. Only the ticking of the clock in the kitchen challenged the silence.

Fear gripped her again. Renton, she thought like a child. Are you back in the hospital or worse? She left her bag in the corridor and, forgetting that the door was open, walked slowly to the kitchen, afraid to see what message was waiting. There was a note on the refrigerator:

He's back in the hospital but do not worry

Love Holland P. S. Don't wait up.

She crumpled the note and threw it into the trash, but didn't score. She snorted with rage. It seemed that lately every conversation with Holland had a banana on the refrigerator as intermediary. The banana speaks, she thought. She hit the refrigerator and then opened it .She couldn't eat.

She had always been thin, but now you could see the bones, and joints in her wrists which reflected her anguish. She looked as thin as Renton was in the hospital, crippled by something unknown. Death by identification, she thought half jokingly, half seriously. After all, she had always been compared to her mother and had the same deep violent eyes with the red ring in her iris; short turquoise hair and same pale skin, but blushed to any stimulus. It would not have been ironic if she had died, maybe even disappeared with her double?

Renton had the same problem as well. Always being the double of his father who also owned a whole hospital. If that wasn't enough he was the chief of medicine.

Eureka left the kitchen without knowing what to do. How could she wash dishes or clean the counter without knowing what happened with Renton in the hospital? She took off her coat and put it on a seat. Holland insisted that everything would be fine, but what if something happened and she was not there simply because he was not able to admit that Renton would surely die?

I should be used to this, she thought. They had been in this situation for more than a year: long hospital stays, short stays at home, weeks of hope and then seeing it fall and crumble were worse than the unknown disease itself. This had to be a sin, she thought. Unnatural, one can not get used to this because that would be like giving up.

She stopped in the dining room which was sparsely adorned with an old table and chairs that combined almost with all but the walls which were an exhibition honoring the life of her mother. Exhibited in a large group of oil paintings, bright and flashy like her mother, she was overwhelmed emotionally by the charged pictures, full of people laughing jumping, spinning and singing. As Renton, Eureka thought, as she was. That was in which they differed, for Eureka wrote poetry full of dark and silent questions. Also not good, she thought. I have no talent, she did. I should have been sick, she had much more to offer, much more life. I am dark; she sometimes told Renton this in surprise.
I wanted to be like her, she thought as she played with the paint brush that her late mother used almost begging to try and absorb some of its forgotten warmth.

The room was fresh and full of shadows. The reflections of light on the ceiling, she saw through the window which resembled light playing in water and the pale colors reminded her of the worlds under the sea. You may find some peace there she thought, and sat on the couch.

"Just enjoy the space", she told herself. The space has always been here and always will be, the space has not changed. I'll pretend that he has five years; he is preparing food early because we're having a party and Anemone will take care of drinks. After awhile when everyone's gone Renton and I will play the piano together. She always thought this.

Of course this would not last; she then decided to open her eyes and stretch. A newspaper was still scattered on the sofa. She looked at it with little interest, but the headline screamed: MOTHER OF TWO WAS FOUND DEAD. Her stomach rolled. A mother of two found dead?, she thought bitterly. Why not the mother of all? She could not help reading on. Her throat had been cut, the article said, there was an absence of dry blood.

'This is absurd", she said aloud. Her fingers gripped the paper with rejection. She threw the paper, with much difficulty and got up off the couch and went to her room for a nap.

So what do you guys think? I hope you guys liked the first chapter next one is coming soon! Bye