Author's Note: Hello! And welcome to my story, Singing of Sunshine! If you're wondering why this title sounds familiar, it's because this story technically takes places in the universe of Dreaming of Sunshine, a SI/OC fanfic by Silver Queen. It's fantastic, I highly recommend it. The technicality has to do with the fact that, if my characters ever meet Shikako Nara from DoS, it won't be til way down the line. But you'll see some evidence of her world on occasion throughout this story. So, in a way this story is a stand-alone, but it'd be more appropriate to call this a spin off of Silver Queen's tale. Either way, I hope you'll enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or Dreaming of Sunshine. Any characters you see here that aren't from their stories are completely my own.
Chapter One: An Ordinary Day
"Just a day, just an ordinary day. Just trying to get by." -Vanessa Carlton "Ordinary Day"
It was 4:54 in the afternoon. Just six minutes left til the end of an unsurprisingly monotonous day at the office.
"Perfect timing!" I grin to myself as I stacked a now complete set of invoices on my desk. It certainly was good timing, but by no means a surprise. Since starting this job a little over three months ago, I'd come to realize that secretarial work was surprisingly easy for me. In fact, it's just about the only place in the world where I'm actually considered 'fast', much to the shock and delight of my friends and family. Then again, when the only things you're known for doing quickly are thinking and talking, it is actually a pretty big deal.
Pushing off my desk in a rolling spin, I hopped out of my chair with files to put into the cabinets on the other side of the building. Technically that only takes about thirty-five steps in this small office. Forty-five if you start from the boss's office adjacent to my workspace. Yes, I counted. Why? Because I had nothing better to do.
The entire office area of the building is an odd combination of tight and spacious. At the centre is the entrance, a foyer about the size of my little bedroom at home, which also works as our library and printing space. On the right you go through the 45 degree angled hallway/kitchen/filing area plus washrooms connected to a fairly spacious design studio which doubled as a walkway to my destination at the small accountant's' office. It wasn't that small a space, technically it fit in three desks for various staff to work with, but the squeeze was easily felt when all three members were present every Tuesday.
Sliding the files on the accountant's empty desk, I returned to the left wing of the office. This space was certainly the largest. Just about the only place you could honestly stretch your legs. Though, truth be told, I took more advantage with having a chair to use at work, even if that chair had its back turned from the spacious yellow walled environment. Actually, when thinking on it, if you asked me off hand to describe the left side, there isn't much I can say despite spending all of my time here. Let's see here. There are the specific cabinets for specific types of files. I'm vaguely aware that one wall features pictures of the company's Christmas parties, but have never taken a gander at it. We have three desks, two corner styled desks used by John and I, plus Glen's desk placed just below the party pictures. The wall opposite of the entranceway leads to two offices, the president of the company (with a wall stacked to the brim with binders and loose papers) and the one belonging to his daughter Jan, my superior. And, finally, on the right wall is a doorway to the meat of the operations here, an industrial warehouse station of sheet metal workers and the various faceless HVAC and plumbing service workers that flit in and out of the building.
I suppose that's unfair of me to refer to them with such an unfeeling tone. It's a small company where everybody here is either family to the President or friend of the family, and many of them are certainly friendly folks. It's me who's the odd duck of the bunch. The one who struggles to remember faces and names, even when I have years of regular exposure to them. Then again, I technically fall into the latter category of staff here. Hired partly because the previous secretary stopped coming to work, and partly because the President knows my father. Though I tend to think it's more that he took pity for the tale of 'Eva: The Unemployed University Graduate' who made the horrendous act of choosing a career in her teens only to wake up in second year and realize that she had little talent in the trade, yet was too afraid to quit and give her emptying wallet a go at a different degree.
'Alright there, that's enough of that, miss!' My inner voice commands. I pause, realizing that those thoughts were getting far too pessimistic for their own good. Closing my eyes, I breathe out and try to let go of those negative thoughts as I slouch back into my chair. Opening them again, I glance to my computer's clock: 4:56pm. Not long now. Enough time to flit around on the web. Then again, I seem to get work done so fast here that I'd started gauging my days based on how many hours were wasted away on a computer. So far my busiest day resulted in having only TWO whole hours of nothing to do!
But hey, that's by no means a complaint. After minimum wage highschool jobs, summers jobs working of 60 hour a week outdoors and on my feet and eight months "working" as an unpaid intern in a 'dying before it started' company, this place is a downright blessing. A steady 40 hour work week schedule, an hour lunch, a decent pay, and a CHAIR that I am allowed to SIT on without being reprimanded.
'This glorious feeling, could it be that fabled land known as… adulthood?'
'Hell ya!' I think back with a grin. 'This here is the Ordinary Life. And It Is A BEAUTY!' (Said to the tone of Ed Byrne's voice)
Fiddling around with the computer goes by quickly. Soon enough, the clock finally strikes 5:00 and it was time to head out. I shut everything down, swipe my jacket and lunch box from the shelf under my desk and stride out of room. "See you tomorrow, Jan!" I shout. She waves bye with a smile and mouths a "Bye, Eva." back while half-listening to her cellphone with what is most likely one of the service guys on the other line.
I take a moment to slip on my jacket before heading out the door. And a good thing too, as I'm immediately met with a chilly Autumn wind with my first step outside of the building. The only consolation to the cold is the knowledge that this is technically warm considering the winter weather to come in a couple of months. 'Gee, how very optimistic of you.' My inner voice thinks sarcastically. I shrug it off and instead take time to fish out my phone and earbuds from my pocket. I'd been having "Marry Me" by Emilie Autumn stuck in my head all day and, let's be honest, nothing treats an obsession quite like experiencing it in real time. I switch from my regular full playlist shuffle to a set of Emilie Autumn tracks and begin on "Marry Me".
I begin my familiar trek weaving between the various compounds of the court, my walking turning into a haphazard waltz in time with the music's harpsichord. It was a fun little diddy. Dark, yes, but oh so much fun. It was a marvel how some of Emilie's songs managed to exist in both realms of incredibly upbeat and deviously demented in tandem with each other, yet be a complete pleasure to listen to regardless!
'Ya, until she plays one of the sad ones that make you burst into tears.'
I rolled my eyes at the thought, yet still managed a chuckle a bit at it's snide comment. Memories flashed to Autumn's live show. More of a theatrical performance than something as simple as a music concert. A wild and fun night full of laughter, fan dances, flaming hula hoops and heartfelt songs. And yes, two of which filled me with so much emotion that I couldn't help but weep for the characters she portrayed. 'Oh please, you were sobbing so hard you nearly fell to the floor!' I sighed and relented at the internal accusation. 'Yes, yes. but hey, that was a hell of a performance. It was most certainly well deserved.' I could almost feel my other half huffing a nod in agreement.
You know, sometimes I'm at a loss of what to think about that little voice in my head. On one hand, it sometimes acts exactly as describe in Christopher Titus's comedic sketch of his so-called "Inner Retard". The voice that fills you with doubt and self-loathing and stomps on every hope or positive dream you may have about yourself. On the other hand, it sometimes acts as a shield or voice of logic and reason. It calls me out when I'm being overly emotional. When I ponder psychology or philosophical ideas, it gives a devil's advocate of retorts for some fun banter. And when something happens that's so emotionally taxing that I can't function, it takes over for me and helps me get through my day. Eerily enough, it ends up being so well focused that I actually do better at activities whether they be school or a dance lesson, like an emotionless droid working on a prime objective. It's certainly made me ponder more than once if I should just let my main self be angry for the rest of my life in order to give the other side a reason to take over completely. ...But that's a rather dangerous and unhealthy idea to support.
Reaching the end of the lot, I hopped over a small shrubbery hedge and walked towards the nearby sidewalk. Hardly a sidewalk, to be completely honest. Nothing more that a thin slab of concrete without even the decency of a grassy barrier between pedestrians and the zooming cars and trucks that frequented this semi-highway of a road. But, nevertheless, it was the quickest shortcut to the bus, and thus worth enduring.
Trying to distract myself from trucks whizzing at a too close for comfort radius, I turn my attention back to the music my inner dialogue trailed off from. The song was almost over, unfortunately. But, at this point, I didn't quite have the energy to rewind it back to the start, and resigned to humming along with it's last few bars.
The song ended and was followed by a rather long beat of silence which brought a smile to my face, full in the knowledge that the shuffle turned to none other that "My Fairweather Friend". Now that's a song you can easily sing to! An acoustic guitar toyed on a few strings as I braced for the beginning. Then it plays and I start to bounce and sing along. "It's a sunny day in Heaven. And no one is around to open the gates, and I'm waitin-"
My body is suddenly struck with pain-blasted forward!-crashing!-and then,
Nothing.