My first fanfic I ever wrote. This story serves as a non-canon (of course) prequel to Angel Beats ~Heaven's Door~, Angel Beats ~Track Zero~ and the main series. Will probably be ruined when the Angel Beats VN/season 2 come out. This story is also not-so-perfect, expect some minor errors in storyline or grammar.
Angel Beats – Arpeggio of Souls
Arpeggio: A chord whose notes are played in rapid succession rather than simultaneously.
Chapter 1 – End of a Life, Beginning of Another
The sounds of other engines pierce my eardrums.
My motorcycle is in its best, I can't lose here. The Glockensberg speedway is used to be an airfield, so the road is smoother than the skin, so smooth that it is able to reflect the bright moon partially. An extension to the highway was added and finished two months ago, that's the finish line, my destination. Ten Kilometers, the road left unsecured and liable of traffic.
My opponent is another low-class biker, so I have little point in winning and great shame in losing, as I said, a pretty much pointless race against a newbie. No risk in losing, either, I don't have a face in the world of motorcycle racing. Everyone's rooting for the opponent (it seems that the spectators are mostly his friend); nobody is in my side, that can't be helped since this is the fourth race I drive in my life. Hoping to become a dark horse, I steady my gaze at my opponent.
His appearance doesn't matter, nor does mine matter. There is only tension and little strategy involved. Turn the valve to max and dash like the wind, ignore the negative cheering, and remove anything else from my consciousness. Time the gear changes to the exact milliseconds and stick the pair of eyes to the road; these are the decisive factors.
I step up and ride my motorcycle, my helm acts as a wall between myself and the world, my determination obstructs the wave of sounds. I am now ready. With a button press the machine starts operating, a Japanese import; it gives the impression of being versatile. But in truth, a motorcycle is a motorcycle, it has limits and weaknesses.
I actually raced against my will.
It is a sad story. My girlfriend and I have been secretly dating. Obviously, we dated secretly because our parents didn't allow us to. Until one day, when my parents find out. They went on a rampage and exiled me from the only shelter I had at that time, home. Three months afterwards, my father died and my mother performed suicide. If not for my beloved, I would have taken the same path as my mother did. It didn't take long until I started renting an apartment and lived there. Things went smoothly for a while. Until my beloved became bedridden.
If she didn't go under an operation, she will die. I don't want that, I never wanted that. I don't want to lose everything. But her family cannot afford such a costly operation. Her limit is a month from now. So, I undergo a series of underground races with absurdly high stakes. When I stated by bet, I lied, I don't have much to offer but I lied because I thought I will win. And this is the fourth race in that series.
This race is the fourth race, out of the sixteen races I will have to race.
The engine generates power like crazy; both of us are pushing our rides to its extreme, yearning for the happiness of being victorious. I am on the lead by roughly one and a half second. The terrain is the best that I've set my motorcycle on; it helps when I have a very soft tire equipped. But that preparation is in vain, there are practically no corners.
Shift. We are both in the third gear, cutting the night at over one hundred kilometers per hour. We pass the first intersection, red light, but no traffic persists. The sound of cheering has dimmed in amplitude, giving way for maximum concentration. We passed the second intersection, no traffic is here, either.
Two seconds of difference between him and me. I could see my opponent getting left behind via the rearview mirror, poor newbie. But he did his best. We entered a narrow road. Even made narrower because a stupid lane divider is there to make things more difficult. Two motorcycles driving side by side are enough to cover the width of the road, and that's even when the two said motorcycles doesn't mind the risk of bumping to each other.
There's a sudden urge to brake; a sense that I'm in a grave danger and will never made it to the final gear. However, my stubbornness allows me to break free. I tighten my grip and continued to speed. Sudden braking is dangerous for me and my opponent, who is right behind me in this narrow road. Shift. I had just reached the fourth, the second-to-last gear. The tension advances further. Suddenly, sound of an engine resonates from my back. Is it my opponent? If so, then he is eating the distance between and that is not good racing-wise.
No, the sound is strange; my opponent is pushing his ride to its limit. As if he is chased by something. I am intrigued. But I can't use the rearview mirror because it's too bright. Has my opponent has turned on his high beam? What for? And so, I turned my face to see what's behind me. I still can't see the frightened face of my opponent.
He died so suddenly.
There is a sharp, loud sound of metal clashing. Something in his engine snapped. No, rather, something just struck his engine at a blinding speed. I can think of one thing only that struck his engine at those circumstances, and that thing is never good. Within the next second, I see my opponent, along with his motorcycle turning into a ball of fire.
It is a part of human instinct to stay alive, and a fireball of death is chasing me. Instinctively, I turned the acceleration valve to its extreme and pray for my survival silently. Strange indeed, God has been so unfair to me. Giving me this life filled with hatred. And so, I always hated him. Yet when the distance between me and my death are so close, I prayed to Him. It seems that religion has messed me up.
No time to think, that forsaken fireball is closing in. I cannot break my calm here, too. I'll spit to death in his face. Whatever power is there that manages life and death, mark my words. I will not die here.
My ride is at its max speed. But it isn't enough. I need to think of a way so that fireball… what? It is engulfed in fire, but that motorcycle is still there. Think about it, that fireball should be slowing down as time goes on, not the contrary. So death is a stubborn brat. That thing is not possible, a motorcycle that still goes on, even after it was engulfed by fire.
I will get outta here alive, there are no turns for another hundred of meters, which is more than enough for that fireball to catch up. Ah, I think of a plan. I grab my scarf and make a simple roll at the valve with the rear brakes.
I loosen my grip at the valve, in theory, this is suicidal. But in practice, inertia will work on my side at the hefty price of my right arm.
I jumped forwards from my motorcycle and pulled the scarf, my ride should be braking itself now and I should be thrown away by the force of inertia, and the fire-engulfed ride of my opponent should crash with my slow ride and stop.
I am horribly wrong. I didn't roll the scarf enough, as a result, I jumped forward from my motorcycle without braking. So, one of the following will happen:
A, I died. Slammed by my own motorcycle.
B, I died. Slammed by the fireball I'm trying to escape from. A more preferable way of death.
My ride spins and get thrown out of the way. Great, I got option B.
*sigh* God, a life filled with hatred, And a stupid death on top of that? Come on, there are many places to see. Many people to meet and many things to experience.
I stand in this tragic situation, I can't run with my injured leg. I'm lucky that I'm able to stand. Death, it is so near… I need a miracle, a deus ex machina, to rescue me from this. And because things won't work like in the movies, I don't expect one, although I am longing for one right now.
"And even if I died, I will either be back online, or reborn as a better person." I amend my words. But… what will happen to her, what will happen to my beloved. If she doesn't undergo that operation, her hope of recovery will be reduced to nil. And if that happens, who will be there for her? Her parents won't last long due to their old age. To simply abandon her like that, to neutralize the value of her life… is unacceptable.
But I cannot go on, my final prayer is so she will be able to enjoy her life the way it is, lonely, bound to paralysis she will not be able to recover from. So she will pass on without regrets like I do now. Besides, I have to enjoy the last moments of my life, right?
I never see an explosion up so close; it is just like in the movies, but a lot less climatic. I savor this sight, this last sight that will be recorded by this eye filled with regret. A single drop of tear run down my cheek, I'm going to die anyway, so there's no wrong and no shame in shedding a tear.
It came, the heat aren't so bad. I feel light-headed, no pain is felt, maybe my nerves are already burnt to a crisp...
And I think in this fulgurating heat, "What awaits there after death?"
That's the prologue. Horribly unrelated, huh? This might get deleted before I could post the next chapter (which I will lol if it actually happens).