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UCHUUJIN TAISEN: PROLOGUE
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Prologue: The Blank of 90 Years, Part 2
- Kanna, Iris, Reni -
Kirishima Kanna hated only one thing about being pregnant: the inability to move freely. Her eldest daughter, Natsumi, made sure of that: at 19, the girl /appeared/ uncharacteristically ditzy, but she was in fact bright and very, very devious - enough to always have some excuse for her mother to stay in bed and perfectly still. Kanna knew Natsumi meant well, but that didn't keep her from chafing at the bit. The worst part was that her other three daughters and two sons all obeyed their elder sister unquestioningly. Kanna, in short, was outnumbered and outgunned.
She couldn't really blame her husband; after all, she'd been the one to tell him she wanted a large family. Being an only child, Kanna had always wished for siblings to play with - or, possibly, to divert her father's attention so she could be, just for a few blessed moments, free of his constant supervision and harsh training. She couldn't deny her own children the fulfillment of that wish - and, besides, she liked kids. Their laughter, their innocence - and, of course, their appreciation of her cooking: all these, and more, endeared her "brood" to her.
But still, Kanna couldn't help but feel peeved.
As she gazed out of the bedroom window at the greenery surrounding the Okinawan villa, her reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Okaasan, I made you this herbal tea. Drink it while it's hot." Natsumi placed a tray on the low bedside table. Kanna sighed. "Hai, hai. Arigato, Natsumi. I'll bring the empty cup to the kitchen myself later." Her daughter, ever dutiful, left the room.
Kanna picked the cup up, took an experimental sniff. Natsumi's herbal tea was a health hazard; cognizant of this, she carefully carried the cup to the window, looked left and right to be sure no one was watching, then poured its steaming contents into the flowerbed outside. Sitting down on her bed, she looked reproachfully at the picture hanging on the opposite wall. Her husband was out, but she could still voice her grievances to their wedding picture.
"I know I shouldn't say this, Ichirou - but this is all your fault."
---
A single tear trickled down Iris' cheek as she gazed up at the boy's face amidst the drifting autumn leaves. "I'm so sorry, Jean. You're my best friend at the Academie - really. I love you like you're my own brother. But... I can't go with you after the graduation ceremony's over."
"Iris..." Jean looked into the eyes of his friend. "I... I don't know the whole story, but I know you're different from the rest." She looked up, shocked. "But... I don't care. I'd endure anything to be with you, Iris. Anything."
Iris managed a weak smile. "Jean... I understand how you feel, but I have a Prince waiting for me. Someone I've loved since I was a child." She turned, her long blonde hair flowing in the wind. "No one else knows but him and I - and, now, you. He's coming to meet me, Jean. Coming to be with me." She bowed her head. "When I was a child, I used to say he was my lover. He was always so patient with me, even though I was a terrible kid." A laugh. "I wonder what he looks like now..."
Jean couldn't help but imagine a scene that was frankly Nabokovian. He struggled to keep from clenching his teeth at the mental image of Iris embracing a man old enough to be her father, shut his eyes to try and drive the disgusting scene from his mind's eye...
"Irisu!"
His eyes flew open of their own accord. The exclamation was touched by just a hint of a strange accent; as Jean turned, the mental image he had been holding abruptly disintegrated. The man was young; probably still in his twenties, with a typically Asian face. Despite himself, Jean had to admit that Iris's "Prince" was handsome in a certain way. He couldn't help but feel more than a twinge of jealousy, though, especially when she took hold of the man's arm and practically glued herself to him.
"Jean, Jean, this is my Prince!" The Asian man had the good grace to appear embarrassed. "Come over and meet him, won't you? This is Jean, my best friend. Jean, this is Major Ichirou Oogami..."
---
While Reni wasn't overly familiar with ships in general, there was something vaguely home-y about the one she was on. It was cramped, spartan, with virtually no ornamentation - in other words, very much like her room in the Imperial Theater. She quietly padded along the narrow hallway, eventually entering a room as spartan as the rest of the ship. Crisply she swung her luggage from her shoulder, depositing it on the floor next to the bunk - her bunk, she had to remind herself.
The silver-haired girl withdrew a sheaf of papers from her bag, perusing them briefly. Her next instruction was to report to the bridge, and so she did.
As she made her way through the maze of twisty passages that comprised the ship's interior, Reni couldn't help but notice how the crew was different from typical sailors. They were mostly clean-shaven and clean-cut, unlike the rowdy sort who had populated the ship she had travelled to Japan on. It was rather pleasant.
She climbed the final ladder to the bridge, and froze, startled.
Lieutenant Ichirou Oogami smiled. "Welcome aboard, Reni. When I heard you were going to be returning home on this ship, I had to request a transfer."
Reni was still a little stunned. "Taichou... I... " Her pulse rate, the rational part of her mind observed, was rising rapidly.
Oogami looked thoughtful. "In fact, I've resigned my commission. This will be my last voyage with the Navy, and I'll be disembarking together with you."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you I was leaving," Reni whispered. "But... you know that Sakura-san has feelings for you. You have to know."
"And you wanted to give me up? Leave quietly? Couldn't you tell whom _I_ had feelings for?"
Reni's eyes widened. "Oh, Taichou..." Unaccountably, she felt moisture trickling down her cheeks. "Thank you."
Her first kiss was beautiful.
UCHUUJIN TAISEN: PROLOGUE
=========================
Prologue: The Blank of 90 Years, Part 2
- Kanna, Iris, Reni -
Kirishima Kanna hated only one thing about being pregnant: the inability to move freely. Her eldest daughter, Natsumi, made sure of that: at 19, the girl /appeared/ uncharacteristically ditzy, but she was in fact bright and very, very devious - enough to always have some excuse for her mother to stay in bed and perfectly still. Kanna knew Natsumi meant well, but that didn't keep her from chafing at the bit. The worst part was that her other three daughters and two sons all obeyed their elder sister unquestioningly. Kanna, in short, was outnumbered and outgunned.
She couldn't really blame her husband; after all, she'd been the one to tell him she wanted a large family. Being an only child, Kanna had always wished for siblings to play with - or, possibly, to divert her father's attention so she could be, just for a few blessed moments, free of his constant supervision and harsh training. She couldn't deny her own children the fulfillment of that wish - and, besides, she liked kids. Their laughter, their innocence - and, of course, their appreciation of her cooking: all these, and more, endeared her "brood" to her.
But still, Kanna couldn't help but feel peeved.
As she gazed out of the bedroom window at the greenery surrounding the Okinawan villa, her reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Okaasan, I made you this herbal tea. Drink it while it's hot." Natsumi placed a tray on the low bedside table. Kanna sighed. "Hai, hai. Arigato, Natsumi. I'll bring the empty cup to the kitchen myself later." Her daughter, ever dutiful, left the room.
Kanna picked the cup up, took an experimental sniff. Natsumi's herbal tea was a health hazard; cognizant of this, she carefully carried the cup to the window, looked left and right to be sure no one was watching, then poured its steaming contents into the flowerbed outside. Sitting down on her bed, she looked reproachfully at the picture hanging on the opposite wall. Her husband was out, but she could still voice her grievances to their wedding picture.
"I know I shouldn't say this, Ichirou - but this is all your fault."
---
A single tear trickled down Iris' cheek as she gazed up at the boy's face amidst the drifting autumn leaves. "I'm so sorry, Jean. You're my best friend at the Academie - really. I love you like you're my own brother. But... I can't go with you after the graduation ceremony's over."
"Iris..." Jean looked into the eyes of his friend. "I... I don't know the whole story, but I know you're different from the rest." She looked up, shocked. "But... I don't care. I'd endure anything to be with you, Iris. Anything."
Iris managed a weak smile. "Jean... I understand how you feel, but I have a Prince waiting for me. Someone I've loved since I was a child." She turned, her long blonde hair flowing in the wind. "No one else knows but him and I - and, now, you. He's coming to meet me, Jean. Coming to be with me." She bowed her head. "When I was a child, I used to say he was my lover. He was always so patient with me, even though I was a terrible kid." A laugh. "I wonder what he looks like now..."
Jean couldn't help but imagine a scene that was frankly Nabokovian. He struggled to keep from clenching his teeth at the mental image of Iris embracing a man old enough to be her father, shut his eyes to try and drive the disgusting scene from his mind's eye...
"Irisu!"
His eyes flew open of their own accord. The exclamation was touched by just a hint of a strange accent; as Jean turned, the mental image he had been holding abruptly disintegrated. The man was young; probably still in his twenties, with a typically Asian face. Despite himself, Jean had to admit that Iris's "Prince" was handsome in a certain way. He couldn't help but feel more than a twinge of jealousy, though, especially when she took hold of the man's arm and practically glued herself to him.
"Jean, Jean, this is my Prince!" The Asian man had the good grace to appear embarrassed. "Come over and meet him, won't you? This is Jean, my best friend. Jean, this is Major Ichirou Oogami..."
---
While Reni wasn't overly familiar with ships in general, there was something vaguely home-y about the one she was on. It was cramped, spartan, with virtually no ornamentation - in other words, very much like her room in the Imperial Theater. She quietly padded along the narrow hallway, eventually entering a room as spartan as the rest of the ship. Crisply she swung her luggage from her shoulder, depositing it on the floor next to the bunk - her bunk, she had to remind herself.
The silver-haired girl withdrew a sheaf of papers from her bag, perusing them briefly. Her next instruction was to report to the bridge, and so she did.
As she made her way through the maze of twisty passages that comprised the ship's interior, Reni couldn't help but notice how the crew was different from typical sailors. They were mostly clean-shaven and clean-cut, unlike the rowdy sort who had populated the ship she had travelled to Japan on. It was rather pleasant.
She climbed the final ladder to the bridge, and froze, startled.
Lieutenant Ichirou Oogami smiled. "Welcome aboard, Reni. When I heard you were going to be returning home on this ship, I had to request a transfer."
Reni was still a little stunned. "Taichou... I... " Her pulse rate, the rational part of her mind observed, was rising rapidly.
Oogami looked thoughtful. "In fact, I've resigned my commission. This will be my last voyage with the Navy, and I'll be disembarking together with you."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell any of you I was leaving," Reni whispered. "But... you know that Sakura-san has feelings for you. You have to know."
"And you wanted to give me up? Leave quietly? Couldn't you tell whom _I_ had feelings for?"
Reni's eyes widened. "Oh, Taichou..." Unaccountably, she felt moisture trickling down her cheeks. "Thank you."
Her first kiss was beautiful.