A/N: This is the first chapter to my AIR story. Oh, and does anyone know what Yukito's mom's name was? I tried to find it. If no one knows, I'll hold a contest with five names and you can vote on the name you like.
Arrival
It was a quaint little coastal town. I remember it very well. I got off the train and pushed my way through the crowd to try to find a vending machine. I couldn't remember ever having been so thirsty in my life. I suppose a three-hour train ride will do that to you. I was somewhat headstrong then and I recall Mother's advice, to bring drinks with me in order to save money. Of course, I didn't listen. I was too eager to set out. I was so eager, I never even said goodbye to my arranged fiancée. But it didn't matter. He knew our family well enough to understand my urgency. And he was patient. I knew he would wait for me.
So there I arrived, surrounded by legions of people, all of whom were faceless strangers to me. I felt uncomfortable with my heavy bag, sheathed sword and guitar case. It was a lot to carry, but all of it was absolutely necessary. The guitar supplied the music for my shows. The bag carried necessities and my precious puppets. The puppets would earn me a living to survive on while I searched. I carried one special puppet with me, the first puppet I ever learned to manipulate. It was a little old doll with a red hat and white wings sewn into its back. This was the puppet Uraha first made in order to practice her own talent. This puppet was passed from generation to generation as a starting point. I carried it to remind me of my purpose. Finally, the sword was a priceless heirloom, passed down through the generations, starting with my many times great-grandmother Uraha. The sword belonged to her husband, Ryuya, the first guardian of the Girl with Wings. The sword served as both protection and courage for me.
Even despite my age, then, I was quite gifted in the ways of puppetry. My only challenge was attracting people to listen and watch.
I decided to start a practice run right there at the station. I made my way over to an unoccupied bench and set my things down. I opened my case and spread a large blue cloth on the ground to prevent filth from reaching the puppets. Then, I took three of the dozen or so puppets out: a lion, a prince and a princess. These three were my key act. I had others, but they required more practice before I could rely on them. I set them in their various positions, took out my guitar and tuned it. I took my time, because this simple act would attract the eye of passerby and I had to rely on their levels of curiosity to bring them close enough to see what I was doing. I only needed one person. Their laughter would attract more as time went on.
At last, just when I knew I couldn't tune my guitar anymore, I heard cautious footsteps approaching me. I spared the tiniest, friendly glace and returned my gaze to my instrument. I didn't say anything to this child. I wasn't hopeful. The child had probably wandered from his parents and they'd become mad at me for trying to entice their child to watch a street performance.
But even as I prepared to play, no one came demanding their child back. It occurred to me that he might even be traveling alone, visiting relatives. With this reassuring thought, I smiled at him and focused my gaze on the dolls, strumming the strings and allowing a pure, soft note to echo forth.
Instantly, all of the hustle and bustle of the train station evaporated. All that existed were the dolls, the little boy and myself. I felt the familiar connection as the invisible hands our powers relied on picked up the dolls like a child would, making them stand and wave fondly at the boy, who beamed and laughed in excitement at their movement. Contrary to what you might believe, I didn't control the hands. They controlled the dolls, but I sort of coexisted with these hands and we worked together to create a little show.
The prince took the princess's arm and twirled her around in a dance. But he accidentally let go of her hand and she fell back with a plop! The princess got back to her feet and chased the poor clumsy prince all around the blanket while I played a merry tune and the boy laughed at their funny antics. By now, a few other people had heard his hysterics and come over to see what all the fuss was about. I now had them chuckling behind their hands as well.
Enter the lion. The lion bounds in and bobs his head, rearing on his hind legs and pantomiming a roar. The princess ducks behind the prince and the prince tries to back away from the lion. The princess pushes him forward and the prince stands before the lion, shaking. The lion pounces and the prince bounds away with the lion in hot pursuit, running circles around the disgruntled princess.
Several other people have joined my tiny crowd by now and all are watching excitedly as the prince continues to run from the lion while the princess acts of yelling at the prince to toughen up and face the beast.
Finally, the princess pushes the prince over and faces the lion. The lion roars and the princess bends back slightly as though a powerful breeze has struck her. She puts her hands on her hips, stares at the lion and then begins to bounce and jump crazily all around the animal. The lion cowers back and then turns and retreats to the edge of the blanket, falling onto his side. The princess nods in triumph and marches over to the prince who gets up, scratching his head in embarrassment. The princess makes as though to scold him and he runs away from her in fear.
As my prince and princess disappear behind my case, the crowd had begun to applaud and laugh simultaneously. I smile at them as they crowd forward and drop coins on the blanket. I try to thank each person in turn as they begin to dissipate.
Finally, I was alone. I looked down at the money I'd received. Already I could tell that I'd be able to get by on this for about a week. Not too bad a start.
I started to put my things away. As I did, I heard someone running toward me and looked up just in time to see a young girl slip on a corner of my blanket and fall flat on her face in front of me. When the paper bills settled and I was able to open my eyes, I stared down at her. She didn't move. Her long auburn hair had somehow gotten caught in the strings of my guitar I'd dropped seconds before she plowed into my things. Her hair was held into a partly pulled back ponytail by a little cat charm. The rest of her hair hung freely and splayed halfway down her back, what little of it wasn't caught in the strings. Though I couldn't see her face, I judged her to be about thirteen or fourteen.
"Um…" I said. "Are…you okay?"
She groaned and raised her head up, looking up at me irritably. Her eyes were bright blue.
"Get the number of that tank, would you?" she mumbled before plunking her head back down again.
I didn't know it then, but that was to be the start of a most unusual summer, one I would always remember.
A/N: Okay, the sequel to OLAA, OPAP is currently being worked on. Because I changed the first one, I needed to rewrite the second one. I'll update it within the week. Times of Change is also being worked on. I'm kinda running my own fiction factory here, so be nice. ^_^ I hope you enjoyed this chapter.