Disclaimer: I do not own FLCL in any way shape or form and any original characters, names, places, etc. are property of Gainax. The author does reserve the right to any original characters, places, etc. that are used and the story is for entirely non-profit purposes.
Author's Note: This is the first fan fiction I've ever done, period. I loved FLCL and decided to make my own sequel. This is just the prologue and Chapter 1 is on its way so please bear with me, and please read and review so that I may improve my story.
Five long years…
Half a decade of living and yet with no life at all. How does someone truly live when some would say that truly living includes being around those you love. To Naota Nandaba living out his life in a happy and dedicated manner had ended five years ago, when Haruko and Mamimi decided to fade from his life thanks to some dumb Pirate King and childhood and adults and…and… just a swirling vortex of circumstances that were never under the, then, 12-year-old boy's control.
It wasn't that Naota acted manic depressive, paranoid, suicidal or any other sort of understandable mental defect that would afflict a person with losing those he loved so dearly, so quickly…that and sustaining enormous amounts of cranial injury thanks to a special Rickenbacker Bass guitar that now sat in the corner of his room, untouched and quite nicely polished. Naota now, very simply, could not enjoy who he was and what he had become.
He had changed, going from the beginning of puberty to the end of it is the most crucial of changes a person can undergo. Unlike his father, Kamon, who still seems to be foolishly lagging yet in his psychopath adolescent mind thanks to some freak hamster death when he had been in school, Naota is much…quieter. Instead of how he once acted in his attempts at emulating grown ups, he no longer tries anything, at all. Naota feels no joy, no happiness, just a simple need to get on with life and over with it. The only thing he seems to relish, is when he gets mail from Mamimi, well not quite written mail, more like a collection of photos that seem to evolve into a collage that he has begun to pin en masse on the wall of his room. He would always, very silently, look over the most recent updates on Mamimi's adventures as a photographer and very delicately play Haruko's former bass guitar, a reflection of a tormented soul that won't admit as much.
Somehow though, Naota felt a need for change. It was if a change in the wind or some sort of alignment of the planets was calling out to him. Something would happen, very soon and very fast, and unless he was ready, Naota would miss his chance. He wasn't sure what chance he'd be missing or when it would come about but some strange biorhythm deep inside of him echoed out for alertness.
It was late, nearly midnight, if Naota read the illuminated digital clock correctly. He rolled over to look directly up to the bottom of the top bunk. A thought about his brother, Tasuka, entered his mind but he quickly banished it with a wave of his hand. He sat at the edge of his bed and stopped… something felt different, he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it seemed as if something lurked at the edge of his very mind, reminding him, urging him.
Pulling on some blue jeans and a dark-as-night long sleeved shirt, Naoto groggily grasped Haruko's former bass guitar by its long neck and began walking outside in a complete daze. Once the night breeze hit his face, Naoto mind fully awakened. Looking about in mild surprise, he ran a hand through his messy black hair, blinking blurrily up at the shining silver moon. It was full tonight and the sky was clear, allowing the its illuminating rays to light up the small town of Mabase rather brilliantly. Something drew his gaze however, just to the right of the moon. Squinting his eyes he saw a shape, he wasn't sure what, but it became obvious as it flew at breakneck speed past the moon, like some dark shooting star. It was then that Naota noticed…it was heading towards the old bridge.
Swinging the bass guitar over his right shoulder, not that he noticed he even had it anyways, Naota ran his fastest towards the bridge, a flood of locked away memories came rushing back to him in full force, his chance had come and something nagged at him that he should know now exactly what it was. Naota could guess but tried to suppress the evil emotion of hope as for the first time in five years, a smirk touched his usually grim features.
Five long years…
Author's Note: This is the first fan fiction I've ever done, period. I loved FLCL and decided to make my own sequel. This is just the prologue and Chapter 1 is on its way so please bear with me, and please read and review so that I may improve my story.
Five long years…
Half a decade of living and yet with no life at all. How does someone truly live when some would say that truly living includes being around those you love. To Naota Nandaba living out his life in a happy and dedicated manner had ended five years ago, when Haruko and Mamimi decided to fade from his life thanks to some dumb Pirate King and childhood and adults and…and… just a swirling vortex of circumstances that were never under the, then, 12-year-old boy's control.
It wasn't that Naota acted manic depressive, paranoid, suicidal or any other sort of understandable mental defect that would afflict a person with losing those he loved so dearly, so quickly…that and sustaining enormous amounts of cranial injury thanks to a special Rickenbacker Bass guitar that now sat in the corner of his room, untouched and quite nicely polished. Naota now, very simply, could not enjoy who he was and what he had become.
He had changed, going from the beginning of puberty to the end of it is the most crucial of changes a person can undergo. Unlike his father, Kamon, who still seems to be foolishly lagging yet in his psychopath adolescent mind thanks to some freak hamster death when he had been in school, Naota is much…quieter. Instead of how he once acted in his attempts at emulating grown ups, he no longer tries anything, at all. Naota feels no joy, no happiness, just a simple need to get on with life and over with it. The only thing he seems to relish, is when he gets mail from Mamimi, well not quite written mail, more like a collection of photos that seem to evolve into a collage that he has begun to pin en masse on the wall of his room. He would always, very silently, look over the most recent updates on Mamimi's adventures as a photographer and very delicately play Haruko's former bass guitar, a reflection of a tormented soul that won't admit as much.
Somehow though, Naota felt a need for change. It was if a change in the wind or some sort of alignment of the planets was calling out to him. Something would happen, very soon and very fast, and unless he was ready, Naota would miss his chance. He wasn't sure what chance he'd be missing or when it would come about but some strange biorhythm deep inside of him echoed out for alertness.
It was late, nearly midnight, if Naota read the illuminated digital clock correctly. He rolled over to look directly up to the bottom of the top bunk. A thought about his brother, Tasuka, entered his mind but he quickly banished it with a wave of his hand. He sat at the edge of his bed and stopped… something felt different, he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it seemed as if something lurked at the edge of his very mind, reminding him, urging him.
Pulling on some blue jeans and a dark-as-night long sleeved shirt, Naoto groggily grasped Haruko's former bass guitar by its long neck and began walking outside in a complete daze. Once the night breeze hit his face, Naoto mind fully awakened. Looking about in mild surprise, he ran a hand through his messy black hair, blinking blurrily up at the shining silver moon. It was full tonight and the sky was clear, allowing the its illuminating rays to light up the small town of Mabase rather brilliantly. Something drew his gaze however, just to the right of the moon. Squinting his eyes he saw a shape, he wasn't sure what, but it became obvious as it flew at breakneck speed past the moon, like some dark shooting star. It was then that Naota noticed…it was heading towards the old bridge.
Swinging the bass guitar over his right shoulder, not that he noticed he even had it anyways, Naota ran his fastest towards the bridge, a flood of locked away memories came rushing back to him in full force, his chance had come and something nagged at him that he should know now exactly what it was. Naota could guess but tried to suppress the evil emotion of hope as for the first time in five years, a smirk touched his usually grim features.
Five long years…