Fanfiction - what a despicable thing. Hah!
Angelic Layer
Angelic Layer is copyright CLAMP. I don't use any of the characters, except in passing, but I guess they're copyright CLAMP too.
CHICAGO and the AIRPORT: City of Hope, Gateway To Something New.
Ken kicked the black-and-white TV heartlessly, proceeding to collapse haphazardly on the wooden floor.
"Why me? Why always me?" He waved some chip bags away with his left hand, and glanced past his body to the TV. On it was the latest Angel Battle. "God, I can't believe we have such violent filth in the world today. Honestly. I'm surprised there haven't been riots for Angelic Layer, like with Beanie Babies, or Furbies.
Ken glanced at the dusty map posted on the door. There were two red pins; one approximately in his birthplace in Tokyo; the other, on his hometown since he was 3, Chicago. His mother moved there after the divorce, to escape "bad memories." Ironically enough, he was from Chicago, and she from Japan.
"Hey, mom!" No answer. "OI! Okaasan!" Still no answer. "Dammit. She better be working." He stood up, heaving his body into the air clumsily. He had not left the house in days, and his facial hair had left him looking sick and worn. Stumbling over to the black-and-white TV, a crazy idea entered his mind.
"Hikaru... win!" Ken Futori smiled, and if his mother was there, he figured she'd be deadly afraid.
-*-
At the fast-food joint that day, Ken was smiling, clean shaven. Not much got done that day -- his co-workers were busy huddling in the corner, crying and asking for a quick and painless death. There was always a cheerful "would you like fries with that?" to accompany an order, and it was so nice, the joint made twice its normal allowance, despite it being a one-man show.
"Dude," muttered Taisuke, a close friend and somewhat a mentor to Ken. His perfect crew-cut shone in the halogen, and although he was wearing a uniform, he definitely had a unique feel. "What's up witchoo?"
"I'm gonna be in Angelic Layer." Ken grinned. Taisuke blinked, confused.
"Angelic Layer? Sounds like some girly thing." Ken shrugged. "Seriously, dude, it don't sound coo' to me."
"Yeah, well, I'm gonna save up enough to go back to Japan anyways."
"DEFINITELY not coo'." Taisuke took an order, then retreated from the register to call it quits for the night. It was 11 o'clock, Chicago time. Chicago time was not like real time; it always felt behind. It was in the back of the world, whereas Japan was in the forefront. He never felt like he belonged here. Taisuke came from a prominent medical family in Kyoto; he left when he was 7. He came to this place, where Angelic Layer was a quirky cute thing on the news and international satellite, this city, with Futori-san's family. He held deep respect for them: they had to struggle, where he did not.
At the payphone outside, he stopped, entered the booth, and began to dial. His fingers knew the numbers better than his mind.
Ring.
Ring.
"Aunt? Oh, hi, sorry to bother you so late. Er, early. I'm glad you picked up; I want to come home to Japan. I miss all my old friends. It's been so long... yes, thank you very much."
Click.
-*-
The room was deathly quiet. Michigo Futori clicked the lights, hoping the buzz would do something to ease her nerves. It did not. She sighed; that boy Ken. Was he working again? She sure hoped so. His recent depression, a logical follow-up to illness, had taken its toll on the Futori Family Economics. The hospital bill was tremendous, and so was the increased amount of food. But she had to pay; they were all working hard. Maybe, if things progressed right, Ken would be back in school by the end of the week.
There was a note on the table. In English. Michigo sighed again, but this one was much more lighthearted. "Be back at midnight. Going to go back to Japan, win us money." The signature was Japanese. Gaku-chan. Michigo lay the note down, confused. Win? Was there a band contest? Ken was a great bassist, but he wasn't even in a band, and bass is just back-up. "Why, oh why won't he learn guitar?"
No, that probably wasn't it. It was in Japan; they had contests all the time in this 'hood.' She hated here. She wanted to go back too. Maybe Ken knew something she didn't; maybe they could go back, maybe she could find love again. She was still young -- 37, which was young in her mind -- and she thought there could be someone for her.
"Oh... what's this?" She walked over to the black-and-white television. On it was the Japanese channel they had gotten illegally from another tenant in the apartment complex. The news was recapping today's Angelic Layer events. She sighed dreamily -- Michigo Futori was a woman of many sighs -- and smiled as she was transported to her childhood, but a different childhood, in which Angelic Layer had already been created. She loved Angelic Layer, and felt giddy whenever it was mentioned. Although there were a lot of little kids in it, Michigo thought that was part of its charm. She wished she could do Angelic Layer.
"Well... if Ken-chan wants to go back to Japan... maybe... maybe I could be in Angelic Layer! Be a child again!" She laughed merrily, played with the lights for a while, then went to sleep. She was snoring by the time Ken got home and turned off the TV.
-*-
That night, Ken dreamed he was in Japan again, facing a girl that he recognized but couldn't for the life of him name, in Angelic Layer. His Angel was so perfect, so fitting for his personality. He woke up at two in the morning, and began writing and drawing. His Angel would be a balanced type -- fair speed, fair strength -- wearing the American Punk Uniform - black long-sleeve Angel Shirt(he laughed at that. Angel Shirt, Angel Pants), white shirt with the symbol Gaku on it, and blue Angel Jeans(he had to cover his mouth so as not to wake his mother up with the laughing). Punk all the way. He grinned at the designs, making sure to hide them so his mother wouldn't find out his plans -- not yet, anyways.
That night, Taisuke dreamed he was in Japan again, facing Ken. Teaching Ken. It was interrupted by a dream of temporarily scantily-clad women. That is all we shall hear of his dream, lest this receive an NC-17 rating.
That night, Michigo dreamed of her father. She was five and he was tired in his business suit, and late as always. But this time, instead of saying "I have to go, honey," he said "alright, I'll stay." She had a doll in her hand. She knew that would be her Angel. Ironically, as a child she called that doll Angel, but she doesn't remember that -- it remains our secret, lost in time and recovered in writing.
The dreams of Icchan-san is just WAY too weird for me to go into. Let's just say it involves noodles, carpet, and dirty parlor games, and leave it at that.
-*-
Somewhere in Japan, Ryouga was still lost.
-*-
"Good morning, mom." She was humming. This couldn't be good. "Umm... what's up?"
Michigo laughed happily, and hugged Ken. "You're right, son. We should go back to Japan. This place is not helping us out at all. Pack your bags; I got a wire from my mom, so we have enough money to go buy tickets as soon as possible." This definitely could not be good.
"Why the rush? I mean, I gotta say g'bye to everyone! It ain't cool to just ditch 'em like that!" She shook her head. "What?"
"You should learn to speak properly in front of others." At that, they both burst into laughter. No way in hell was Gaku-chan going to change his language. They faded into normalcy at that point(give or take some seconds), and Ken ate his food, humming along with his mother. It was the happiest morning he'd had since he had gotten sick over a month ago. He had the Angel sketches in his back pocket. She had hers embedded in her memory.
Breakfast took only ten more minutes, spent in music and taste, pleasing a multitude of senses at once. The new chance seemed to make the egg taste much better, the music not so off-key. Then, it was off to see if they could mooch some suitcases. But first, Ken went to the map on the wall, pulled the Chicago red pin and stuck it right next to the Sapporo pin. "There. Now we can go."
-*-
Taisuke stepped out of the screen door. "Bye mother, I am leaving to partake of many women!"
His mom responded, in her own colloquial way: "Don't be late, dear!"
-*-
O'Hare was PACKED (this is many years after our horrible tragedy, mind you.). The Futori family, all two of them, were having an incredibly difficult time finding out where to go. Sure, it was gate 37M, but where WAS gate 37M? And why was the time on the ticket for 5 minutes from now? These questions were answered as an incredibly sexy voice declared on speakerphone, "next flight to Tokyo International from Japan Air is leaving in 5 minutes." That was great, but where was the first answer? "The new addition of the M gates is in the northwest corner of the complex." Thanks.
It seemed that, since the inception of Angelic Layer, every airport had its own giggling gaggle of girls, and as much as Ken would have liked to spend some time with the older ones, the plane was about to leave, and Michigo would NOT allow his son to date. He was too sweet, too innocent!
It's amazing how little parents know about their kids.
The plane itself was incredibly spacious, surprisingly enough. There was enough room that Taisuke did not notice Ken or his mom enter or sit. So spacious, indeed, that when Ken began to play air-bass, Taisuke still did not notice. No; Taisuke, being the apparently one-dimensional character he is, was busy staring at the incredibly short hem line of the girl sitting next to him. But the plane was still spacious. Trust me.
The plane ride was not so accommodating. Twice, they ran into extreme turbulence. And, since they were not leaving from the west coast, it took them considerable time to reach their destination. The pins-and-needles sensation was somehow masked by Ken's crude drawings. Taisuke had given him some lessons in anime-style drawing, but Ken actually preferred the more stylized animation of the Americans, particularly Batman. That show rox0red Ken's artistic world. But Ken would rather write bass tabs than draw. His nickname wasn't Gaku-chan for nothing. As a matter of fact, during the incredibly long plane ride, Ken began to devise a theme song for his Angel, which he still had yet to find a name for.
Michigo spent most of the time sleeping. Being a young single mother had taken its toll on her. Shhh, she's sleeping. More dreams of her as a child, with Angel. A portent, perhaps, but maybe just the proof that the mind is smarter than it lets on.
-*-
Tokyo International Airport. A hub of commerce, intelligence, and most importantly, people. People who flock from all over for martial arts, anime, and Angelic Layer. But mostly anime. Because as any wise being will tell you, anime is great. But at that moment, Angelic Layer was the focus for 3 unique people, all related in some way, all destined to be Angelic Layer players. Good or bad, one cannot say.
In softly-cushioned chairs and some uncomfortable stool, the mostly-responsible adults waited for their doll-riddled children, discussing how well their child's little toy fights, or about the Angelic Layer tournament itself and how their child will be the one to be the winner, or a select few on just the technological aspect of Angelic Layer -- the miracle that is a visor, reading a child's mind, can control a doll on a floating platform. Yes, nothing less than genius would be required for something so complex -- the mind is still very poorly understood, despite these advances in mechanical telepathy. Taisuke's Aunt, however, was apart from this crowd, wishing to have nothing to do with that display of barbarism. She wasn't what we'd call "social." Which is why, in a lot of ways, she despised her nephew.
Taisuke was the penultimate ladies' man, tough, confident, but unfailingly sweet when you got to know him. He was a bit of a hentai, but that was just the result of having so many women after him. He could hardly be blamed for it. His aunt at least understood him -- but he loved Chicago so much. He said so whenever he called(at approximately 7:45 PM every Monday. Taisuke's Aunt thought his father was forcing him to, and rightly so. His mother didn't even care.). What caused him to suddenly change his mind? And to arrive so soon, and on his own; something was up, and Taisuke's Aunt would not have any of this rabble. No, whatever was going on, she'd put a stop to it, and send Taisuke back where he belonged, in the hood, with all those dirty American women.
Taisuke's Aunt was kept waiting. Taisuke was held up by a store selling, amidst the excellent anime(he'd have to remember this store) and the music CDs, Angelic Layer.
Michigo knew she shouldn't expect her mother here. She left America too early, and so they would have to find a hotel to sleep in for a couple days. Her mom had somehow managed to send them a lot of money, though, more than enough to get them started. Ken wandered off on his own, and Michigo decided to go find something related to Angelic Layer, maybe talk to some of the girls that she recognized from TV. She felt her heart beat like a rabbit, from what we cannot say, although common speculation would hold that it was joy.
We all can tell where Ken wandered off to, having taken out his sheet of paper, and having spent time contemplating it.
And this, my friends, is clearly the point where the story truly starts.
Angelic Layer
Angelic Layer is copyright CLAMP. I don't use any of the characters, except in passing, but I guess they're copyright CLAMP too.
CHICAGO and the AIRPORT: City of Hope, Gateway To Something New.
Ken kicked the black-and-white TV heartlessly, proceeding to collapse haphazardly on the wooden floor.
"Why me? Why always me?" He waved some chip bags away with his left hand, and glanced past his body to the TV. On it was the latest Angel Battle. "God, I can't believe we have such violent filth in the world today. Honestly. I'm surprised there haven't been riots for Angelic Layer, like with Beanie Babies, or Furbies.
Ken glanced at the dusty map posted on the door. There were two red pins; one approximately in his birthplace in Tokyo; the other, on his hometown since he was 3, Chicago. His mother moved there after the divorce, to escape "bad memories." Ironically enough, he was from Chicago, and she from Japan.
"Hey, mom!" No answer. "OI! Okaasan!" Still no answer. "Dammit. She better be working." He stood up, heaving his body into the air clumsily. He had not left the house in days, and his facial hair had left him looking sick and worn. Stumbling over to the black-and-white TV, a crazy idea entered his mind.
"Hikaru... win!" Ken Futori smiled, and if his mother was there, he figured she'd be deadly afraid.
-*-
At the fast-food joint that day, Ken was smiling, clean shaven. Not much got done that day -- his co-workers were busy huddling in the corner, crying and asking for a quick and painless death. There was always a cheerful "would you like fries with that?" to accompany an order, and it was so nice, the joint made twice its normal allowance, despite it being a one-man show.
"Dude," muttered Taisuke, a close friend and somewhat a mentor to Ken. His perfect crew-cut shone in the halogen, and although he was wearing a uniform, he definitely had a unique feel. "What's up witchoo?"
"I'm gonna be in Angelic Layer." Ken grinned. Taisuke blinked, confused.
"Angelic Layer? Sounds like some girly thing." Ken shrugged. "Seriously, dude, it don't sound coo' to me."
"Yeah, well, I'm gonna save up enough to go back to Japan anyways."
"DEFINITELY not coo'." Taisuke took an order, then retreated from the register to call it quits for the night. It was 11 o'clock, Chicago time. Chicago time was not like real time; it always felt behind. It was in the back of the world, whereas Japan was in the forefront. He never felt like he belonged here. Taisuke came from a prominent medical family in Kyoto; he left when he was 7. He came to this place, where Angelic Layer was a quirky cute thing on the news and international satellite, this city, with Futori-san's family. He held deep respect for them: they had to struggle, where he did not.
At the payphone outside, he stopped, entered the booth, and began to dial. His fingers knew the numbers better than his mind.
Ring.
Ring.
"Aunt? Oh, hi, sorry to bother you so late. Er, early. I'm glad you picked up; I want to come home to Japan. I miss all my old friends. It's been so long... yes, thank you very much."
Click.
-*-
The room was deathly quiet. Michigo Futori clicked the lights, hoping the buzz would do something to ease her nerves. It did not. She sighed; that boy Ken. Was he working again? She sure hoped so. His recent depression, a logical follow-up to illness, had taken its toll on the Futori Family Economics. The hospital bill was tremendous, and so was the increased amount of food. But she had to pay; they were all working hard. Maybe, if things progressed right, Ken would be back in school by the end of the week.
There was a note on the table. In English. Michigo sighed again, but this one was much more lighthearted. "Be back at midnight. Going to go back to Japan, win us money." The signature was Japanese. Gaku-chan. Michigo lay the note down, confused. Win? Was there a band contest? Ken was a great bassist, but he wasn't even in a band, and bass is just back-up. "Why, oh why won't he learn guitar?"
No, that probably wasn't it. It was in Japan; they had contests all the time in this 'hood.' She hated here. She wanted to go back too. Maybe Ken knew something she didn't; maybe they could go back, maybe she could find love again. She was still young -- 37, which was young in her mind -- and she thought there could be someone for her.
"Oh... what's this?" She walked over to the black-and-white television. On it was the Japanese channel they had gotten illegally from another tenant in the apartment complex. The news was recapping today's Angelic Layer events. She sighed dreamily -- Michigo Futori was a woman of many sighs -- and smiled as she was transported to her childhood, but a different childhood, in which Angelic Layer had already been created. She loved Angelic Layer, and felt giddy whenever it was mentioned. Although there were a lot of little kids in it, Michigo thought that was part of its charm. She wished she could do Angelic Layer.
"Well... if Ken-chan wants to go back to Japan... maybe... maybe I could be in Angelic Layer! Be a child again!" She laughed merrily, played with the lights for a while, then went to sleep. She was snoring by the time Ken got home and turned off the TV.
-*-
That night, Ken dreamed he was in Japan again, facing a girl that he recognized but couldn't for the life of him name, in Angelic Layer. His Angel was so perfect, so fitting for his personality. He woke up at two in the morning, and began writing and drawing. His Angel would be a balanced type -- fair speed, fair strength -- wearing the American Punk Uniform - black long-sleeve Angel Shirt(he laughed at that. Angel Shirt, Angel Pants), white shirt with the symbol Gaku on it, and blue Angel Jeans(he had to cover his mouth so as not to wake his mother up with the laughing). Punk all the way. He grinned at the designs, making sure to hide them so his mother wouldn't find out his plans -- not yet, anyways.
That night, Taisuke dreamed he was in Japan again, facing Ken. Teaching Ken. It was interrupted by a dream of temporarily scantily-clad women. That is all we shall hear of his dream, lest this receive an NC-17 rating.
That night, Michigo dreamed of her father. She was five and he was tired in his business suit, and late as always. But this time, instead of saying "I have to go, honey," he said "alright, I'll stay." She had a doll in her hand. She knew that would be her Angel. Ironically, as a child she called that doll Angel, but she doesn't remember that -- it remains our secret, lost in time and recovered in writing.
The dreams of Icchan-san is just WAY too weird for me to go into. Let's just say it involves noodles, carpet, and dirty parlor games, and leave it at that.
-*-
Somewhere in Japan, Ryouga was still lost.
-*-
"Good morning, mom." She was humming. This couldn't be good. "Umm... what's up?"
Michigo laughed happily, and hugged Ken. "You're right, son. We should go back to Japan. This place is not helping us out at all. Pack your bags; I got a wire from my mom, so we have enough money to go buy tickets as soon as possible." This definitely could not be good.
"Why the rush? I mean, I gotta say g'bye to everyone! It ain't cool to just ditch 'em like that!" She shook her head. "What?"
"You should learn to speak properly in front of others." At that, they both burst into laughter. No way in hell was Gaku-chan going to change his language. They faded into normalcy at that point(give or take some seconds), and Ken ate his food, humming along with his mother. It was the happiest morning he'd had since he had gotten sick over a month ago. He had the Angel sketches in his back pocket. She had hers embedded in her memory.
Breakfast took only ten more minutes, spent in music and taste, pleasing a multitude of senses at once. The new chance seemed to make the egg taste much better, the music not so off-key. Then, it was off to see if they could mooch some suitcases. But first, Ken went to the map on the wall, pulled the Chicago red pin and stuck it right next to the Sapporo pin. "There. Now we can go."
-*-
Taisuke stepped out of the screen door. "Bye mother, I am leaving to partake of many women!"
His mom responded, in her own colloquial way: "Don't be late, dear!"
-*-
O'Hare was PACKED (this is many years after our horrible tragedy, mind you.). The Futori family, all two of them, were having an incredibly difficult time finding out where to go. Sure, it was gate 37M, but where WAS gate 37M? And why was the time on the ticket for 5 minutes from now? These questions were answered as an incredibly sexy voice declared on speakerphone, "next flight to Tokyo International from Japan Air is leaving in 5 minutes." That was great, but where was the first answer? "The new addition of the M gates is in the northwest corner of the complex." Thanks.
It seemed that, since the inception of Angelic Layer, every airport had its own giggling gaggle of girls, and as much as Ken would have liked to spend some time with the older ones, the plane was about to leave, and Michigo would NOT allow his son to date. He was too sweet, too innocent!
It's amazing how little parents know about their kids.
The plane itself was incredibly spacious, surprisingly enough. There was enough room that Taisuke did not notice Ken or his mom enter or sit. So spacious, indeed, that when Ken began to play air-bass, Taisuke still did not notice. No; Taisuke, being the apparently one-dimensional character he is, was busy staring at the incredibly short hem line of the girl sitting next to him. But the plane was still spacious. Trust me.
The plane ride was not so accommodating. Twice, they ran into extreme turbulence. And, since they were not leaving from the west coast, it took them considerable time to reach their destination. The pins-and-needles sensation was somehow masked by Ken's crude drawings. Taisuke had given him some lessons in anime-style drawing, but Ken actually preferred the more stylized animation of the Americans, particularly Batman. That show rox0red Ken's artistic world. But Ken would rather write bass tabs than draw. His nickname wasn't Gaku-chan for nothing. As a matter of fact, during the incredibly long plane ride, Ken began to devise a theme song for his Angel, which he still had yet to find a name for.
Michigo spent most of the time sleeping. Being a young single mother had taken its toll on her. Shhh, she's sleeping. More dreams of her as a child, with Angel. A portent, perhaps, but maybe just the proof that the mind is smarter than it lets on.
-*-
Tokyo International Airport. A hub of commerce, intelligence, and most importantly, people. People who flock from all over for martial arts, anime, and Angelic Layer. But mostly anime. Because as any wise being will tell you, anime is great. But at that moment, Angelic Layer was the focus for 3 unique people, all related in some way, all destined to be Angelic Layer players. Good or bad, one cannot say.
In softly-cushioned chairs and some uncomfortable stool, the mostly-responsible adults waited for their doll-riddled children, discussing how well their child's little toy fights, or about the Angelic Layer tournament itself and how their child will be the one to be the winner, or a select few on just the technological aspect of Angelic Layer -- the miracle that is a visor, reading a child's mind, can control a doll on a floating platform. Yes, nothing less than genius would be required for something so complex -- the mind is still very poorly understood, despite these advances in mechanical telepathy. Taisuke's Aunt, however, was apart from this crowd, wishing to have nothing to do with that display of barbarism. She wasn't what we'd call "social." Which is why, in a lot of ways, she despised her nephew.
Taisuke was the penultimate ladies' man, tough, confident, but unfailingly sweet when you got to know him. He was a bit of a hentai, but that was just the result of having so many women after him. He could hardly be blamed for it. His aunt at least understood him -- but he loved Chicago so much. He said so whenever he called(at approximately 7:45 PM every Monday. Taisuke's Aunt thought his father was forcing him to, and rightly so. His mother didn't even care.). What caused him to suddenly change his mind? And to arrive so soon, and on his own; something was up, and Taisuke's Aunt would not have any of this rabble. No, whatever was going on, she'd put a stop to it, and send Taisuke back where he belonged, in the hood, with all those dirty American women.
Taisuke's Aunt was kept waiting. Taisuke was held up by a store selling, amidst the excellent anime(he'd have to remember this store) and the music CDs, Angelic Layer.
Michigo knew she shouldn't expect her mother here. She left America too early, and so they would have to find a hotel to sleep in for a couple days. Her mom had somehow managed to send them a lot of money, though, more than enough to get them started. Ken wandered off on his own, and Michigo decided to go find something related to Angelic Layer, maybe talk to some of the girls that she recognized from TV. She felt her heart beat like a rabbit, from what we cannot say, although common speculation would hold that it was joy.
We all can tell where Ken wandered off to, having taken out his sheet of paper, and having spent time contemplating it.
And this, my friends, is clearly the point where the story truly starts.