Aberration -noun departing from the right, normal, or usual course
AN: Hello and welcome! This is my first time posting here, but don't be alarmed, I'm not trying fanfiction nor writing for the first time.
The idea for this fic came from seeing the S.t.a.r.S music video (found on Youtube) starring Yoko. I found especially the part where Kamina makes his appearance incredibly inspiring. I kept thinking what could happen afterwards - and here we are! My thoughts just wouldn't leave me alone.
If you have seen the music video, you should notice that I referred to it pretty strongly in the first part.
The story will revolve mainly around Yoko and Kamina, but I will add some SimonNia cuteness later. The category is very much romance, but I tried to write this with a touch of humor. There will hopefully be a little bit of drama in the later parts. Now, onwards!
Song "A Change Is Gonna Come" by Sam Cooke.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter one: A Change Is Gonna Come
The day started off as ordinary and boring as countless others before it. But then again, change can fly right under your radar. It can come below the wind; you can't sense it, but it's there.
Change. A touch of something new. Something to refresh things both old and familiar. A blank page on top of those you already know so well. Change, right under your nose.
Thick and humid afternoon air stood still in the little shop on a particularly silent street. It was midsummer, and the weather was blistering hot, making the insides of the shop almost unbearable.
On the shop's roof stood a sign, telling that the shop belonged to a widely spread chain of little stores just like this one. Just by that, people would know that in they would find some basic groceries, a large supply of magazines as well as snacks and sweets and things like that.
All in all, it was your regular kiosk type of shop open almost around the clock, seven days a week.
Inside sat the lone employee of the day, unfortunately sentenced to the day shift when the heat made working rather unpleasant. Even the ceiling fan had broken down a few days ago, so the airflow inside was close to nil.
Yoko fanned herself with a bored sort of look on her face. Well, "bored" was an understatement. She was feeling apathetic. The store was empty as business had been exceptionally slow today, and she could count her customers with her fingers only. Just some older people who spent nearly half an hour pondering what kind of candy to buy for their grandchildren, a few boys whose ages varied from twelve to fourteen, sneaking glances at the X-rated magazines on the top shelf, when they thought the clerk, Yoko, wasn't looking. Then little girls buying ice cream… well, that had cheered Yoko up for a little while.
She liked children – and that was the reason for her working in this little place that the employees liked to call "The Shack", mainly because of the condition of the back rooms.
Yoko was working her way through college where she studied to become an elementary school teacher. She liked school; she felt she was in the right place doing the right thing for her – but combining her studies, work and personal life was proving to be difficult, nearly impossible. But, she had mused, what was her rush? She could put her sole focus on studying and working, get out of college sooner that way and then, then she would have all the time in the world for family, for friends, even boyfriends…
Yes. She was satisfied with that decision. What would she profit from a likely messy love life? It would just interrupt her studies and make her life that much harder.
So here she was, sitting behind the counter, reading one of the older magazines, just flipping through countless articles concerning celebrities, what they were doing, who were they with, who had they broken up with and so on and so forth…
Yoko found herself absolutely, utterly bored. And her uniform was ridiculously hot…. not in an attractive way, just plain suffocating.
It was summer break so she didn't have to worry about homework or tests. That was good… in a way. No school meant also more free time, and where the majority of her fellow students were thrilled with this, it gave Yoko a headache. Because of her decision to keep personal stuff to a minimum, she hadn't made a lot of friends on campus, and the friends she had in her home village… well, they hadn't seen since she left after high school, except for a quick exchange of hellos when she went to visit her parents.
Alas, excess free time was a pain. And to avoid loitering in her little flat without anything to do, Yoko opted to work every shift she could get. She would even cover for her only co-worker when he had some sort of emergency and couldn't come to work. This was happening more and more often these last weeks, noted Yoko. Well, nothing to complain about, it was fine with her. Sitting here was definitely better than sitting in that old, cramped apartment.
Yoko tried to focus on the article she was reading. The woman in the pictures, some sort of model she didn't know by name, had that same shade of flaming red in her hair as she did, and maybe they would even look alike from a distance -
"You in this picture?" A large, tanned hand appeared dead center on the page, covering most of the text. Surprised, Yoko looked up.
It was a man. Well, not that big of a surprise. He was pretty tall, casting a shadow all over the counter. Yoko couldn't see his face that clearly, because of the light coming from behind him.
"… No." Yoko said slowly, still a little too shaken to snap back into her role of a perky little employee, ready to serve and answer any questions that should arise.
The man peered at the picture for a while longer before straightening up and taking his hand off the counter. "And here I thought you'd be a celebrity, " he said, smiling from ear to ear.
Yoko cleared her throat. This wasn't the usual behavior of a customer, but she gave a polite smile nevertheless.
"Not me. I'm just an ordinary clerk here, not some undercover supermodel… by the way, can I help you?" She smoothed a few wrinkles on the top of her uniform, all professional now. Even though it was a stupid, boring job in a work environment that surely wasn't up to standards, she wanted to do it well.
"I guess so," the man remarked, referring to the thing about supermodels, still smiling, "but you could as hell pass for one." He gave the things he wanted to purchase to Yoko, who answered his compliment only with a shrug and a light chuckle.
She was used to getting attention from the opposite sex. She was a nice looking girl, nothing wrong with knowing it. She had it, but didn't flaunt it. Yes, it felt good to make heads turn and keep getting looked at – but at the end of the day, they were still just looks. That would've been good enough in what, high school? When everything was just superficial and shiny? Yoko had learned a long time ago, that she wanted someone who could be more than just another man drooling at her.
As she handled his things – a magazine, chocolate bar and a stick of gum – she took a closer look at her customer. He seemed kind of intrusive and could have the potential to be very irritating, if it weren't for the sincerely friendly smile on his face.
Just like she had noticed before, he was tall and with a muscular build that spoke of an athletic way of life. His face had matured features so Yoko estimated him to be a few years older than her. Light blue, spiky strands of hair covered parts of his face. After this quick evaluation, Yoko had come to the conclusion that he was relatively handsome, but the smile that lighted up his face and made him actually quite attractive. But that was just the way Yoko analyzed customers to her own amusement, nothing more. Nothing personal there.
Soon she was done and read the total amount to him. The man hadn't said anything after that, and now he fished a few bills from his wallet and handed them to her.
"Keep the change."
After that he left, that same confident smile still on his face. Yoko offered a quick "have a nice day!" to his retreating back. For some reason, she had this inkling feeling that the man was feeling pleased with himself. She shrugged the thought off, ready to slip back into that state where her mind was far from The Shack.
She sorted the bills into the register, noticing that in her hand was something that shouldn't be there.
It was a small note, folded so she couldn't see what was inside. She frowned and glanced at the door. Great. Maybe the note contained some valuable information that he had had to scribble down, and now he had forgotten it… Well, she couldn't leave her post and go after him, now could she? He was probably far away by now.
Sighing, she put the note away and propped her elbow on the counter, leaning her jaw in her palm. Every now and then she glanced at the note. Minutes crawled by in an agonizingly slow manner and by each second her curiosity towards the little piece of paper grew.
In a blink of an eye her hand moved over the counter and snatched the note. Feeling like a criminal she opened it, her eyes widening not so much in surprise, but in amusement. She even knocked herself lightly on the forehead with her fist. 'Of course, ' she thought.
It was a phone number.
'… Since when did I lose the ability to realize when a man makes a pass at me?'
I guess this was more of an prologue of sorts than a real chapter. Sorry about that.
Anyways, what do you think of Mr. Mysterious Customer? You might've already guessed his identity. He he he.
Also, I'm no exception to the rule and thus feedback will be greatly appreciated!