Disclaimer: I do not own FLcL. I never will own FLcL. Don't sue me.
Synopsis: Naota's all grown up. And really, what is there to do in the world for a guy who's already experienced having robots and pseudogods come out of his head? Naota's bored. That is... until he meets a young girl who reminds him of someone.
"I know you... You captured my eyes..." he broke off in snickering and shook his head. "That would never work."
As he often did the young man looked up at the slowly darkening sky and sighed. She never came back. She said she would but it's been nine whole years and Naota had yet to see any sign of the woman who had forever changed his life.
Nine years had passed by and each year had seemed more dull and uninteresting than the last. After going through excitement such as what he'd gone through just about everything seemed dull in comparison.
He leaned on the old railing of the bridge, rusted from years of exposure to the elements, and took a long drink from the unmarked alcoholic beverage in his hand. Its eerie how similar every city looks when you've traveled as far as Naota has. Eerie... and depressing. It didn't matter how far Naota rode on his Vespa, every single city always looked like Mabase. Naota looked down the river at city with a smirk. More specifically, at the large iron shaped monolith halfway down a hill that now rested unused; vines growing up its side as a testament to this fact. "Halfway around the world in America and its still just like Mabase..."
Naota kicked off from the railing and hopped onto his waiting Vespa. He started the engine and drove.
If anyone found it odd to see an early twenties Japanese man driving through an ass-end-of-nowhere south western town in America on a bright red Vespa with a Rickenbacker 4001 strapped on his back... not a single person commented or said anything to him as he drove through, and out of the town.
"One ticket to Tokyo, Japan," Naota said as he approached the desk, his turn having now come.
"Alright," the nice but that intelligent looking American woman smiled at him, "So is that two bags you'll be checking then?"
"Two? No no, just one."
The woman continued smiling, "I'm sorry sir but your bag is simply to large to be a carry on."
"Bag?" Naota looked down at the large blueish greenish bag full of clothing and other amenities that sat patiently at his side on the floor. "Of course I know that, I'm checking the bag," he laughed at her joke. "I guess it is a little large but I don't think its necessary to count it as two bags!"
The woman seemed taken aback and her smile faltered for a moment, "Um... I'm sorry sir but we don't allow guitar's as carry ons if that's what you're hoping."
Naota's laughter stopped, "This isn't a guitar," and he ripped the Rickenbacker 4001 off his back and slammed it forcefully into the counter. This garnered a rather shocked response from not only the woman but also the various people waiting in lines near or behind Naota. "This," he said and brought the Rickenbacker up into the air again, grasping it by the neck as if it were a bat. "This is a bass."
With that said Naota swung the bass as if it were a bat and slammed the body of it into the side of the woman's head. There was a slight pause as if everyone and everything needed a second to process just what had happened. And then everything happened at once.
The woman flew through the air, the shock on her face not doing justice to what was going on in her head, and probably would have continued flying through the air had she not collided with the man who had been working next to her.
As this happened the dark haired woman in line behind Naota screamed in a combination of confusion and horror at the actions of the man in front of her, Naota.
Simultaneously, one of the airport security saw Naota's action and called into his walkie talkie that a suspicious Asian man had just assaulted one of the airport employees with a guitar.
Following these three actions numerous other actions from numerous other actors began including, but not limited to; more people screaming, the security officer pulling a gun and telling Naota to drop the guitar and put his hands in the air, Naota turning towards the security officer who had spoken into his walkie talkie and getting a dark smile on his face, several more people screaming, Naota rushing towards the security officer, several people running, the security officer wetting himself, Naota's bass crashig into the security officer's head and sending him flying through the air, numerous people running, numerous people screaming.
Naota is now alone in the airport terminal save for his Rickenbacker and ten actual police officers with live ammo who had now arrived on the scene... Well that and several unconscious bodies strewn throughout the room and countless abandoned baggage.
"Drop the weapon and surrender or we will open fire," one of the policemen said.
This only excited Naota more. He flipped his bass around and now held it from body, neck facing towards the police. "Fire!" Naota laughed and one of the police officers flew into the wall behind him unconscious.
Now the police opened fire and Naota ran forward, easily dodging through the slow moving ammunition.
"Ahh..." Naota sighed as he slid into his seat, bass propped between his legs. "That was nice." He turned to the young girl sitting in the seat next to him. "There is nothing, and I mean nothing in the world, like taking a huge shit, wouldn't you agree?"
The girl only looked at him and frowned. She couldn't have been in anything more than seventh or eighth grade.
"Attention passengers," the pilot came in over in intercom, "We're now about halfway through our journey and we'll be landing in Tokyo in roughly three hours and forty minutes."
"Ugh," Naota grunted, "four more hours of sitting. I hate sitting. It bores me. What about you?" he turned to the girl next to him. She still didn't say anything, only frowned at him.
He sighed and leaned his head back against the seat. In a few silent minutes Naota was asleep and snoring loudly (to the annoyance of everyone around him).
He was woken an unknown amount of time later by a strange strumming feeling near his crotch. He looked down and raised an eyebrow to see the girl strumming on his bass from her seat. She wasn't making any coherent form of musical composition but she was strumming his bass none the less.
"Why are you strumming my bass?" Naota asked sleepily to which the girl responded by immediately stopping and looking out the window.
He smiled at her. "Does it entice you?" he asked her, "Does it make you want to play it?"
She ignored him (or attempted to look like she was ignoring him) and continued looking out the window.
"I remember when I first saw this..." he muttered to both himself and the girl, "It wasn't mine to begin with you know. This thing is a hand-me-down from girl who changed my life. Mind you, MY guitar she stole when she left so it was only fair that she gave it to me..."
"My first guitar... hell, my first instrument in general, was my Flying V. Pulled it right out of my head she did." He laughed and noticed out of the corner of his eye that the girl was now looking at him.
He looked directly at her before she could turn away, "Do you want to learn?"
Naota stepped through the glass doors and breathed deep the toxic Japanese air. "Bye Naota," the girl waved as she dragged her somewhat large, red bag behind her towards whatever destination she was going.
"Farewell Alice!" Naota waved in reply to his new friend, infinitely confident that he would see her again at some point. He watched her walk off in odd fascination. She held herself different than the absurd amount of kids her age do. She walked upright, not crouched and she moved as if trying to be as aloof as possible... Now he knew what it was that fascinated him. She's him when he was her age. Red hair and a taste for red in her clothing too... He smirked.
"Now!" he smacked his hands together, "Back to business... What was it I was to do next... Ah! My Vespa, that's right!" He started running off down the streets of Tokyo towards the drop point he'd been assigned to pick up his Vespa.
Well there you have it. End Chapter One. There won't be too many chapters in this... Definitely no more than six. Oh and before you start complaining because Naota's out of character. OF COURSE HE IS! That's the entire premise of the story!
Alright, that's out of my system then.
Tell me what you think. -Jak