TRALALALALALALA *slapped*
Warning: this probably will not live up to your expectations… *grimaces then hides shamefully in the corner*
TAKESHI OBATA-SENSEI AND TSUGUMI OHBA-SENSEI OWNS EVERYTHING OF DEATH NOTE. SAM AND MIKE, HOWEVER, ARE MINE
XXX
When I was out, my mind decided that it would be a good idea to relive an old, forgotten memory of mine.
I was five. My father was rich and my mother was dead, and he needed a male heir to become figure head(I was good for dolling up and pampering, but not so good to lead a company, apparently). So, with a little bit of what they like to call data manipulation (I wasn't that stupid back then; I had ears), he legally adopted Mike as his own son.
Huh. When you put it that way, it sounds so simple.
"Samantha, this is Michael. He will be living with us from now own. Get to know him a little bit okay? Play nice."
This memory was strangely vivid compared to my other memories. I can still picture the clothes he was wearing that day – expensive and unnecessarily intricate, just like my own – and the sour expression he wore as his gaze wandered from the ceiling to his shoes to me.
We were quiet as we sized each other up. It was like my face didn't know what expression to make, so I kept it neutral. After billions and trillions of minutes (baby talk), I was the one who broke the silence.
"So," I started, childishly drawing out the 'o'. "Wanna see my storybook collection?"
XXX
Time was different in real life.
"How long was I asleep?" I groaned, clutching my head as I tried to focus on the blurry form sitting on the edge of my bed. I frowned when no answer came. "Mike?"
"Hm? Mm… Oh! Sam! You're awake!" The figure jumped up to his feet. "Come on, hurry. You need to see this…" he babbled.
"Alright, alright… Just wait a bit. Everything's spinnin –" I stopped as I sat up and placed a hand behind me on the pillow, feeling the unfamiliar material. Only now did I notice that this was not my bed. "Mike…" I said slowly. "Where the hell are we?"
From what I could make out, the room looked like a hotel room, with the bed I was sitting on, a dresser, a closet, and a door that could only lead to a bathroom off to one side. Vents kept the air cool around us instead of air conditioners.
I realized I had been squinting when the dark-clad blur moved and pressed an object onto my palm. "Right. My glasses," I murmured, feeling stupid.
"Don't worry about it – but still, come on." Mike was in focus now, which I was immensely grateful for, but something was off with him. I decided it could wait. He was shaking in his shoes (new ones?) with nervous energy, knuckles placed over his mouth absentmindedly to muffle, unsuccessfully, the frankly fan-boyish giggles that sounded every few seconds. His giddy demeanor was infectious, and soon I was grinning along beside him, even though questions were still bouncing around in my head.
"What is it? What is it?" I asked.
"Here, here," Mike skipped over to the curtained window set beside the desk (why beside?), ripping the cloth away and slamming the glass door open so hard I was afraid it might break. He bounded over to the edge of the semicircle-shaped balcony, gripping the railings and staring over it with a strange light in his eyes.
My heart skipped a beat.
I've seen Tokyo in television and pictures before. The colorful lights and the multitudes of sound and how it all seemed to overload your sensors all at once, but I'm telling you – those were nothing compared to the real thing.
They, at least, got the 'sensory-overload' part right. Bright neon colors and city sounds hit me like a wall of concrete as soon as I stepped foot out onto the balcony, making me actually draw back a little. Cars were honking, people were talking in a jumble of shouts and exclamations, and the flashing advertisements were blaring out their products into the streets. Wait a minute – those ads?
"Japan? We're in fucking Japan?!" I shouted, rounding up on… empty air. "Mike?" I called uncertainly, shifting on the balls of my feet as I tried to look for him from where I was.
"Here!" I found him crouched against the wall, rummaging through a familiar-looking bag.
"Hey! That's mine!" I snatched my backpack from his hands. "What were you doing with it anyways?"
Mike held up what he had managed to take right before I took the bag away. "Just this." He held up with his thumb and forefinger my newly-purchased book.
"How could you possibly think this is the right time to be reading manga?" Mike gave me a look, and that was when a switch was flicked inside my head, and I noticed something –
Everything was different somehow.
For one, Mike looked different. Only now did I notice that his hair was darker somehow. The ever-present shadows under his eyes more noticeable. He was shorter but thinner, so he looked taller. His clothes were less otaku-like and fit better on him, like they were picked out by a completely different person, 'cause I don't remember him having a shirt with a design like that before…
The more I looked, the more I noticed. Like how the wood on the tables and windowsills had just a little less texture than it should, or how the colors are just a little too vivid to be real.
Calmly, as if in a daze, I walked to the door which I guessed correctly led to the bathroom, and gripped the sink with both hands. I leaned on my arms as if to brace myself, and looked up to stare at my reflection.
Yup. The same.
My eyes are wider, my skin smoother and flawless now. My form is more lithe and petite now, like a proper anime girl's should be, and I can't help but raise an eyebrow when I notice that I was still in the same clothes as when I passed out – my Yagami Sayu cosplay shirt and pants and my Nikes. Unfair, but, well, I think I'd probably start hyperventilating from information overload right now if even my clothes were different.
"Oh, um… yeah. Sam… you should probably see this…" Mike walked in the bathroom scratching his newly longer hair, the other hand clutching a piece of paper. I looked at him through the mirror to show that I was listening.
Mike made a show of clearing his throat.
"'Michael and Samantha – Congratulations! How do you like this new world? Much prettier than your old one right? And more interesting, yes? Well, guess what? It's about to get even more interesting! Want to find out how?" Here Mike clears his throat with a sheepish look on his face. "Well, you're going to have to find out for yourself! Attached to this note (is it the other way around?) are two very familiar bags… recognize them? Use the items given to the best of your abilities. Until next time.' It's signed with the Kanji for 'Yami'…" Mike swallowed and fiddled with the paper nervously, though not enough to leave creases. "Hey Sam? Do you think it was…"
I shifted my weight from foot to foot then walked past him to plop down on not-my bed.
Falling onto my back I stared at the foreign ceiling and closed my eyes with a sigh.
Yup, definitely having information overload here.
Alright, let me try to get the facts straight:
1. I am in Japan with Mike, who can speak choppy Japanese at most.
2. I am in the Japan equivalent of another universe.
3. If anything was to go by, I just sent us both to the Japan in the Death Note universe when in a coffee high.
4. If I sent us to the Death Note-verse, that means that the other things I said then would also come true…
"Mike!" I called, flinging an arm over my eyes in an attempt to block out the annoying light. I needed to think god damnit! "Do you remember what I said to that girl in the convention?"
There was a rustling of sheets and the slight creaking of the bed springs as I felt Mike sit next to me on the bed. Then, "…Do you really think we're really… you know, that we're Shinobi and Kunoichi, Miester-slash-Weapons now…?"
I opened my eyes wide and sat up quickly, almost banging my head with Mike's. "Well," I said. "No time like the present, right?" Mike nodded and reached down beside the bed, lifting up my red shoulder pack (I got it because I noticed that Naruto had one too, apparently) into full view.
"Let's learn then."
I understood what he meant when I started rummaging inside it. My laptop is still in there… Along with my white flip-phone and Soul Eater-logo wallet (I had a matching one made for Mike with the Shinigami logo, though he doesn't use it much…), though I put them away on the bedside table for later. What caught my attention, though, were the mounds of manga (English translated, of course) on only three things: Naruto, Soul Eater, and of course, Death Note.
Learning a superpower from a teacher and learning a superpower from a book with just dialogue and vague illustrations are two different things.
I had to read and reread and rereread several pages again and again as I struggled to understand them. The canon manga written by Masashi Kishimoto-sensei, for example, doesn't exactly say how we can unlock our chakra, or why some civilians seem to not have any chakra at all. It doesn't tell us how the ANBU can track chakra signature, or how exactly you can direct chakra, basically energy, to certain parts of your body or how you know it's there*.
Woah. There are a lot of unspoken things in manga.
"If studying was half as fun as this, I'd be top of the class," I muttered, speechless, as a grin started working its way across my lips. I was vaguely aware of Mike nodding eagerly as he lunged for the uniform stack of Soul Eater manga, grabbing with it half of the Death Note bundle. I shrugged then got out the Naruto, deciding that hey, we better start now if we want to have a head start.
"You're surprisingly calm about all of this," I commented, before giggling slightly, nostalgic, as I tore my gaze away from the black-and-white drawing of Naruto and Sasuke kissing accidentally.
Mike shrugged, twirling around and around on his perch on the swivel chair behind the desk. "I had my moment before you woke up. The shock hadn't fully settled in yet though, so I'll probably have a second episode later. You too, actually." I nodded in agreement then directed my gaze back to my comics.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw Mike perk up.
"Hey!" He yelled and jumped out of his chair at the same time, startling me. "What the heck are we doing? We're in Japan, in an anime universe, and we're just going to sit here and read manga? Nosiree – you at least gotta see the rest of the apartment first! Come on; we can study later!"
I must admit, I hadn't even thought of going outside the room before then, but, well, I guess I was still thinking that either it was all a dream, or everything was just another anime I watched and I was still back home, high off the accidental liquor-based sweets someone sent me or whatever.
But as Mike pushed the door open and enthusiastically dragged me off to show off the – I've got to admit – pretty sweet interior of the flat 'Yami' had gotten for us', I caught a peek out the window and at the bright neon lights and glass skyscrapers, and, with the mindset that freaking L and Kira is in one of them, I decided that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't so bad.
Now if only I can figure out what we're forgetting here…
XXX
*=I haven't read or watched Naruto in a long time… Sorry if I got some facts wrong.
…FAIL *shot*
I'm sorry if Mike and Sam's demeanor (seriously, I'd probably freak out more if I was them) is a bit… anticlimactic. I do have a lot more waiting for them though, and them freaking out every step of the way is probably… I'll shut up now.
This... this will get better… eventually… hopefully…
Review and tell me what you think!
Flames will be accepted wholeheartedly *dies*
