Hey guys! It's been a while, I know, but I wanted to make this a double upload so that you guys could have Connection's first cardfight. Anyways, random disclaimer, I don't own Vanguard, remember to review, all that good stuff. On with the story!
As Ryan arrived in the dining room downstairs, he saw his mother making mashed potatoes for their dinner later. Her face was drawn into a furious scowl, and her potato-mashing seemed more like a violent act than food preparation. Knowing her, the food would still end up being more edible than anything he could prepare.
His father looked up from the television show he was watching in the next room over. As per usual, it was a superhero series, and from the looks of it, he had watched multiple episodes ahead of the rest of the family.
Ryan had inherited most of his nerdish qualities from his father, who had always been infatuated with comics and games about superheroes. Even his job involved comic books, and his collection was impressive to say the least.
Unfortunately, marrying Ryan's mother forced him to become a "responsible parent", though Ryan was unconvinced that pretending to hold your daughter's hand only to lead her directly into a wall qualified as responsible behavior. They were still laughing about it ten years later when Carly wasn't in the room. And sometimes when she was.
Glancing towards Ryan's mother, Dad shook his head. Don't mess with her. Got it. His mother had been stressed enough times over the last few years that the two had developed this warning system. Ever since her promotion a few years ago, she was always scrambling to do the work her higher-ups needed of her.
After watching the episode with his father for a few minutes, Ryan's mother announced that it was time for dinner. As he came into the room, Ryan saw the scowl still present on her face. Silently wondering what could have caused her such irritation, his question was answered shortly after they sat down.
"They want a dozen forms sent in by Thursday. If we don't, we won't be in-the-running for the grant. Even if we do, every one of our competitors wants it too." She sighed, her eyes softening as the anger in her expression was replaced with melancholy. "I've met some of them. They're nice people, and they need that grant just as much."
Before anybody could do anything to console her, her face returned to a more neutral state. "Everybody else is suffering with under-staffing issues. I'm going to have to write all the forms myself."
His father spoke up, sounding much more serious than usual. "Honey, you can't do all that in a few days. It's just unreasonable. You won't have any time to spend with the kids. Carly is visiting from college tomorrow, remember?"
"I have to." She picked up her plate, having eaten the food quickly and without giving any impression of tasting it. She looked at Ryan, whose face showed visible shock, and offered him a wane smile before leaving the room.
Only once her distinct footsteps, which seemed to lack their usual measured confidence, had disappeared up the stairs did Ryan speak again. "So...should I wait to go to the game store until later?"
Ryan knew immediately that what he had said was insensitive to his mother, and his father seemed to know it too, based on his offended expression. Within a few seconds, however, something in his gaze shifted. He gave a smile, not the amused kind that he seemed to wear so often. No, Ryan saw only the "I'm-your-parent-and-I-understand-you kind" of smile. The kind that all teenagers despise, because it's not like their parents were ever teenagers.
Frustratingly, his father did not seem to grasp this basic aspect of teenage life. "I know you're still trying to make friends after the move," he said, and amusement blended into that smile for a moment. "I still remember you trying to invite Blake over a week after you met him. It's been two months since then and I still haven't seen his face."
His expression quickly returned to that infuriating sympathy. "But you should try to make friends outside of a game store. Just because most of your old friends played your games doesn't mean you can't have new ones who don't like them. I mean, you can't judge if they're friend material just based on whether or not they play a game called 'Cardfight Vanguard.'"
He rolled his eyes, losing a bit of his sympathy as he remembered long drives with his son and friends. The entire ride was filled with questions like "Which do you think would win in a game between Blaze Kagero and Magia Pale Moon?"
Ryan, meanwhile, seemed absolutely affronted. "Excuse me, Dad, but literally everybody who doesn't play Vanguard is a loser. Including you. Mainly you," he added, doing his best to clear up any confusion.
His dad placed a hand on his forehead before giving a melodramatic sigh. "Oh no, a teenager thinks I'm not cool. However am I to recover?" He smirked wickedly behind his hand. "I suppose that a loser like me couldn't possibly drive you to the game store."
Ryan paused for a moment, processing the severity of the threat. He quickly decided he couldn't risk his fun weekend on the off chance his father was serious. He gave what he must've thought was a charming smile, though it came off quite as fake as it actually was. "You know, I was just joking, Dad. I love you. You're just the best dad ever. And such a great dad would definitely drive his son to the game store."
His dad nodded with a benevolent smile on his face. "I suppose I could drive you, since you asked so nicely. But first, you'll have to wash all of our dishes."
Ryan's eyes twitched as his father strolled lazily out of the room. He didn't dare object for fear of losing his ride. Well played, Dad. Well played. Still, he couldn't help but be happy at his father's return to his usual antics.
As he washed the silverware, the image of a certain object creeped in from the back of his mind, ruining his good cheer. Oh yeah, that. Quickly finishing with the dishes, he raced up the stairs and threw open his door. The deck box was still lying there on the floor. Edging around the unmoving piece of plastic, he dropped onto his bed with a sigh.
Rubbing his forehead, he thought deeply about the situation. Do I really want to bring that deck to the store? Why not take one that doesn't randomly hurt me for no reason?
Unfortunately, there was no such deck in his room. All of his other ones were upstairs in the moving boxes. He could probably find them given half an hour of searching. Given the choice between getting up and looking for them or using the cursed deck, there really wasn't any choice.
After all, he could spend that half-hour in far more productive ways. Like sitting on his bed and staring at the ceiling, for example.
With that sorted out, Ryan pulled out his phone. No messages. Sighing melodramatically, he began to scroll through his contacts and contemplate how none of them had called him recently.
Suddenly, his eyes happened upon one of the names, and he smiled in a fashion that was altogether too wicked for what he intended. I'll show you, Dad. I can easily make friends with people. Who are already acquaintances. He clicked on the call button, and within a few seconds, a soft voice rang out from his phone. "Yes?"
"Hey, Lily. So I was wondering if you wanted to come over tomorrow? Oh, this is Ryan, by the way. From school."
"Oh hi, Ryan! Hmmm...I don't think I have anything going on tomorrow. Hold on, I'll check with my parents." Ryan waited through a few seconds, holding his breath and trying not to grin prematurely. "Yeah, I'm free tomorrow. Do you know when you want to meet?"
Ryan almost began a victory dance(which would've undoubtedly been horrific to witness, as he was an atrocious dancer) before he heard the question. Thinking for a moment, he recalled his dad saying they would go to the store at 3:00. "I think early afternoon, 1:00 or 2:00 maybe, would work. Can you make it then?"
"Sure. If you send me your address, I should be there by 1:30. Bye, Ryan!"
"See you then," he said, ending the call. He smiled, satisfied with the day. See, Dad? I can make friends who don't play Vanguard. One whole friend. Two, if you count Blake. He contemplated that for a moment. Okay, one friend. But still, she doesn't know how to play. At that, he smiled deviously. For now.
He was quite unconcerned with the paradoxical nature of that victory. Instead, he ran out the door and up the stairs to gather the essentials for tomorrow. "Alright, let's do this!" He was convinced that nothing would dampen his enthusiasm.
A few hours later...
Walking. Endless walking. He walked along a perfectly white road. There were no distractions from this task. Not in any direction, for after all, every direction was the same shade of white.
In this world, there had never been a single bit of color, a single object, a single person. This was a world of no emotions and no progress. Lofty aspirations couldn't exist in a barren wasteland of white. Even the simple desire to grow was rather pointless, for the whiteness would always be larger still. Eternal, and all-encompassing.
Nothing and no one could live in a world like this. Except for the lone figure, it would seem.
How long he walked that road, he would never know. Eventually, though, he arrived at a place that was distinctly different. In a world of pure white, even the slightest shade of grey stood out, and this was no shade of grey. It was a bright blue, with an indistinct shape and a size that couldn't be judged.
For a moment, he had to shield his eyes from the sight. But he kept walking towards the blue all the same, hopeful for some change. And when he finally reached it, something did change.
His surroundings became blue.
For a moment, he wanted to scream in frustration. Then he shifted, and felt something shift at his back. Looked up and saw an edge, an end to the monotony. Heard a deep rumbling, the dying breaths of a giant.
He felt change, and he was satisfied.