a.n. Hi. :)
Has anyone ever watched the show, "I Dream of Jeannie"? It's an old show, but it's really awesome. I was watching it and thought to myself, Maybe I could make a story out of this...so it's loosely based off of it, only because it has a genie incorporated as part of the main plot. Other than that, everything's original.
So read it, and tell me what you think. X3
EDIT AS OF 6/12/17: Hello my lovelies! I have decided to revamp this story, I'm reposting these chapters one by one. I realized there were too many inconsistencies that needed to be fixed and my writing was underdeveloped. I hope you enjoy this changed story more than the original, as I found the original to be quite bland.
If someone were to describe Miku Hatsune, they would probably say something along the lines of "sweet, but distant." In all sincerity, the statement is true; Miku never really goes out of her way to appease people, but she's cordial and cooperative upon meeting them. She has her own group of friends whom she treats as such, but they aren't really close. Sure, they respect each other's space and they make good company, but ultimately, they aren't the first people you'd call in emergencies nor the first you'd call to simply talk.
Miku ponders this as she kicks a dented can on her way home, lightly punting it every few yards against the concrete as she holds both straps of her backpack down against her shoulders, making sure it doesn't fly off as she jumps from foot to foot. With every kick, her thoughts shift, her mind more restless than usual.
How does it feel to have someone to confide in, someone to be able to bother no matter how late or early it is? What does it feel like to truly have support…?
Her train of thought halts as she stumbles and almost trips over something. As she looks around to find the offending obstruction, a deep gruff voice begins to speak.
"Hey kid, you shouldn't touch that bottle. She gets really upset if anyone touches it, I should know..."
Looking for the source of the voice, Miku finds a middle-aged man sitting next to the trash bins in the alleyway beside her. Just one look at him tells her life hasn't been very kind. He looks as if he hasn't shaven for a few days, his dark stubble outlining the stark white of the cigarette he smokes. Miku guesses he's probably one of the homeless in the city; recently, a near-by factory laid off many of its workers to lower production costs. Subsequently, many occupants of the city had become homeless, unable to keep themselves afloat in the endless sea of taxes and expenditures. In only a few short months, an entire network of the newly homeless had sprung to life within the confines of the city streets.
Miku pauses thoughtfully, measuring her response. "Who gets upset, the woman who owns the bottle? Shouldn't we return it to her, then?"
The man closes his eyes and shakes his head, taking another long drag from his cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke up into the air. "No one quite owns the bottle, honey. Everyone who's tried to has failed, from what I've seen. I've tried my luck too, but, uh...she didn't quite listen to me. At least she left me alone, I've always been grateful for that."
Miku stares, her curiosity piqued by the man's words. "What do you mean...?"
He smiles this time, amused, and snuffs his cigarette out against the concrete. "Eh, you'll see...but I guess since you happened to find it on your own, your luck is already better than ours. Here, take it." Gesturing vaguely in the direction of the bottle, he pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and coughs lightly, nodding to her.
Hesitation. After all, who in their right mind picks up a shady bottle from a homeless man on the street? For all Miku knows, it could have something illegal in it, but Miku is an optimist so she decides to just go with it. "Are you sure...? I don't want to just take it from you, or whoever owns it."
A laugh, followed by a shake of his head. The man stands, leaning forward, and ruffles Miku's hair. "No, kiddo...she's just really selective, that's all. It doesn't really have anything to do with who I am." The man trails off, a soft smile taking over his features as he looks closely at Miku. "You know, if my daughter were here, she'd be about your age."
Miku pauses and a sick feeling hits her stomach, wondering what must've happened to his daughter to make him speak in past tense. She takes the bottle from him slowly, gently; both he and the bottle seem fragile, and Miku doesn't want to chance breaking either. "I'm sorry..."
The man turns away and waves his hand dismissively. "My fault for getting sentimental. You be on your way now and be careful, these streets are dangerous!" His voice grows softer the further away he gets, drowned out by the city traffic.
Miku stares at his retreating back and shakes her head in an attempt to clear it, placing the bottle in her backpack. She zips it and she begins walking to her bus stop; if she's lucky, she might still be able to catch the metro before sunset.
The dented can lies forgotten behind her, resting on the cracked cement.
Miku has too many thoughts clouding her mind to focus on kicking the can again, so she picks it up and throws it away.
Unlocking the door, Miku steps into the familiar darkness of what she calls home. She has a brother, Mikuo, but he's rarely ever here, having moved into an apartment downtown to be closer to his job. He pays all the bills and helps Miku when he can, but rarely comes by in person. Ever since their parents passed in the car accident, he had taken full responsibility of Miku, being twenty years old and legally able to.
After Miku showers and unzips her bag to start her homework, she sees the bottle crammed between her notebooks and sets it down on the small coffee table beside her workspace, her legs crossed comfortably. She starts attacking her workbook problems, trying her hardest to finish before she has to make herself dinner. The passing hours find her engrossed in her work, and only when she finishes her first three assignments does she stop and lean back.
Tapping her pencil against the table absentmindedly, Miku eyes the bottle. It's intricately carved with metal ornamentation and appears to be very old, as some of the black tarnish suggests. Glancing at the clock, she decides she has enough time to take a look at the strange relic before she has to make dinner.
Slowly, Miku picks it up, wary of whatever the man in the alley was going on about earlier. She waits and waits and after five minutes of silence and literal nothing, she brings it a little closer. Gently wiping some of the grime off of the side with a paper napkin she finds littering the coffee table, Miku is completely unaware of the cloud of pink fog appearing out of thin air behind her. She keeps scrubbing at the bottle, dismissing the light popping sound she hears behind her as the birds and squirrels she knows are always in her yard.
Her entire body tenses in shock when two slender arms wrap around her waist, pulling her back into another warm, soft body. She feels someone's breath against her earlobe and she tries not to scream, not to panic.
The person turns out to be a woman, speaking in a low, rich alto voice. "Hello, my darling, I've waited a long time for this. You're pretty cute, too, I think I'll have a lot of fun serving you..." The woman licks her lips and Miku literally hears it because she's so close. She doesn't want to think about how this strange woman got inside her house, but she knows the phone is on the other side of the room and if she can play it cool long enough to make it over there, she can call the cops.
The idea snaps her out of her stupefaction and Miku pushes the woman away briskly, whirling around with her arms crossed. As she takes in the sight of her offender, she realizes that she's actually really attractive and starts blushing. In a potentially-dangerous hostage situation, you're never supposed to find your kidnapper attractive. That's how people die, and Miku isn't going to die today. She has too many projects due next week, too much of a future to let it all go because of some crackpot, definitely-not-attractive woman standing in her living room.
"Who are y-you...?" She can barely keep the stutter out of her voice.
The woman has soft-looking pink hair and wears a brown skirt with gold trimmings, along with a blouse of the same color scheme. Her eyes are a bright shade of crystalline-blue, her perfectly arched eyebrows making her look mischievous. She looks down at herself and giggles, snapping her fingers. Miku watches in awe as the woman now appears to be wearing skinny jeans and a low-cut turquoise tank-top with no trace of the previous outfit having even been there.
Miku hates that she notices how much the tank-top brings out her eyes and makes them almost pop.
The woman spends more than enough time smirking and watching Miku gape, probably reveling in the attention creeps like her normally don't get, though Miku figures this woman is an exception to that. "Who am I~? Luka Megurine. I'm a genie. And since you rubbed my bottle, you're now my mistress." Luka steps closer, standing toe-to-toe with Miku and reaching forward, holding both her hands. Smiling softly, she continues. "I've wanted a mistress like you for a while...and don't worry. You get more than just three wishes." She slowly leans forward, kissing Miku's forehead gently.
Heart thrumming in her throat, Miku stands, flabbergasted. She suddenly remembers that this "genie" or whatever may very well be a lunatic, and she still needs to protect herself. She wrenches her hands away from Luka's, stepping backward. "How...b-but, I literally just met you!" Miku turns and walks to the kitchen, telling herself that she ought to just ignore her and start dinner. Maybe if she ignores this problem long enough, it'll disappear. Maybe this is all just some dream and she'll wake up and it'll be time for her to go to school.
Luka, never one to be pushed away, pouts and latches onto Miku, practically straddling her hips with the way her legs contour to the outside of Miku's. "Aw, don't be such a grouch, Miku!"
Miku nearly trips from being held so fiercely and the shock of the genie's words, both hitting her at once, her eyes going wide. "How do you know my name?" She tries to keep the alarm from coloring her voice.
Luka giggles and kisses the back of her neck, relentless. "From your worksheets and your books, darling. That, and I've been following you around for quite a while! By the way, you sing absolutely adorably in the shower, I really wanted to just slip in there with you and maybe touch you in a way that would make your voice do...other things, if you know what I mean."
Miku puts her hands against her cheeks and closes her eyes, overheating at how low and gravelly Luka's voice gets. Burning bright red, she attempts to shrug Luka off and washes her hands, getting ready for what she assumed would be a long dinner. She almost regrets talking to the homeless man this afternoon.
Luka walks in front of her and washes her hands and her exposed arms are so toned Miku catches herself staring.
She almost regrets talking to the homeless man.
a.n. So. What did you think? Review...I'll update soon if you do, really! :)
It may seem tedious, but even a short review can make a person really happy all day, trust me!
EDIT AS OF 6/12/17: Tell me what you thought, whether you're new to this story or you read the original!