SMILING AT STRANGERS ON TRAINS
A Seranov Industries Production
by Alexei Seranov
Footprints? I had thought to myself. People don't usually walk in this weather. At least people who aren't me. Tokyo under snow is typically a very pristine thing, as most just take the metro. They'd walk the ten, twenty feet from their warm, cozy homes or apartments to the nearby metro entrances. Then onto the heated trains which would bring them to where ever they wished to be. I just happen to like the snow. No one ever walked on the sidewalks, mussing the calm beauty on the ground.
It was then I saw who was making those footprints. They were nearing the entrance of the metro, wrapped in a big red jacket, long red hair flowing down their back. She stopped for a moment, and turned to look me straight in the eyes. Gorgeous blue, I remember thinking. And then she was walking down into the hustle of the subway.
I followed after. What was I supposed to do? I needed to get to class. First day of college. Need to make a good first impression, y'know? So I check for incoming cars, and I start crossing. I'd always been overly confident about crossing streets. They'll move, I would say. Safely on the other side, I walked down into the metro myself. People everywhere. I nudge my way past a couple, and soon enough, reach the ticket machine. I drop my nine hundred into the vending machine-like contraption, and retrieve the small ticket. I pocket it and move towards the gate and the multiple lines leading up to it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of red. I look quickly, but whatever it was is gone. I shrug slightly, and just wait in the line. I always hated those lines. I finally reach the gate, and put my ticket in the slot. Yay. All that waiting for this. I walk through the turnpike and head over to the second platform. Must be my lucky day. As I move to sit, the train comes rumbling into the station. Heaving my messenger bag over my shoulder again, I stand and move into the car. As we all funnel in, I see another flash of red, and all of a sudden I'm forced up against the window of the car. The wind is knocked from my lungs, and as I look down to see what hit me, I just see the girl from before pressed against my chest.
Well, yeah, if I were some suave, debonair spy or something, I would have said something charming and endearing, getting her attention and all that. "Oww." Quite the lady-killer, wasn't I? She looks up at me, and our eyes lock. For a second, she's blushing and looking completely apologetic. And then her eyes flash, and I know I'm about to be killed.
She pushes against me, in an attempt to get her personal space, but the train has filled up by now, and she's stuck there. "What are you doing, you idiot?! Get off of me!" Well, I'd be glad to oblige, but I'm sorta crushed against a wall. I give her a pleading look, and manage to shift away just a bit, but she's still pressed up against my chest.
"Sorry." She seems to get even more frustrated, so I just don't say anything.
"Look, just don't move. This is bad enough as it is."
"Uhh... okay." Now that I'm close enough to see her well, it's easy to tell she's beautiful. Crystal blue eyes, creamy white skin, that long auburn hair, and a killer body, at least from the way the bulky clothes seem to mold to her. She's a foreigner, as far as I can tell, but quite the beauty nonetheless.
"Stop staring at me or you won't live long enough to regret it." My eyes bulge out of my head, and for a moment, there's a fire in her eyes, and I can't help but wonder if she means it. That fire starts to draw me in, and I can't stop looking at her.
SLAP.
"Oww."
"Idiot."
"Sorry." That look again. I breathe a sigh of relief as we pull into the station and everyone files out. She pushes away from me and follows after. The newfound freedom of not being flattened against a pane of glass is both a reward and a punishment. She had been warm, pressed against me, and it was most certainly not a bad thing. I see the girl disappear into the crowd, and realize I'm smiling.
SaSoTsAsOtSaSoTsAsOt
Author's Notes:
Many thanks to XXXG-00W0, FinalMax, VerbalKint, stormofdragons and Cavalier for helping me flesh out at least a little bit of the storyline. Thanks to SnowyFairy16 for prereading. Arigato oneechan. More thanks to Million Dead, for the awesome song this story is based on, Smiling at Strangers on Trains.
Oh yeah. I don't own Eva. Don't sue.
A Seranov Industries Production
by Alexei Seranov
Footprints? I had thought to myself. People don't usually walk in this weather. At least people who aren't me. Tokyo under snow is typically a very pristine thing, as most just take the metro. They'd walk the ten, twenty feet from their warm, cozy homes or apartments to the nearby metro entrances. Then onto the heated trains which would bring them to where ever they wished to be. I just happen to like the snow. No one ever walked on the sidewalks, mussing the calm beauty on the ground.
It was then I saw who was making those footprints. They were nearing the entrance of the metro, wrapped in a big red jacket, long red hair flowing down their back. She stopped for a moment, and turned to look me straight in the eyes. Gorgeous blue, I remember thinking. And then she was walking down into the hustle of the subway.
I followed after. What was I supposed to do? I needed to get to class. First day of college. Need to make a good first impression, y'know? So I check for incoming cars, and I start crossing. I'd always been overly confident about crossing streets. They'll move, I would say. Safely on the other side, I walked down into the metro myself. People everywhere. I nudge my way past a couple, and soon enough, reach the ticket machine. I drop my nine hundred into the vending machine-like contraption, and retrieve the small ticket. I pocket it and move towards the gate and the multiple lines leading up to it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of red. I look quickly, but whatever it was is gone. I shrug slightly, and just wait in the line. I always hated those lines. I finally reach the gate, and put my ticket in the slot. Yay. All that waiting for this. I walk through the turnpike and head over to the second platform. Must be my lucky day. As I move to sit, the train comes rumbling into the station. Heaving my messenger bag over my shoulder again, I stand and move into the car. As we all funnel in, I see another flash of red, and all of a sudden I'm forced up against the window of the car. The wind is knocked from my lungs, and as I look down to see what hit me, I just see the girl from before pressed against my chest.
Well, yeah, if I were some suave, debonair spy or something, I would have said something charming and endearing, getting her attention and all that. "Oww." Quite the lady-killer, wasn't I? She looks up at me, and our eyes lock. For a second, she's blushing and looking completely apologetic. And then her eyes flash, and I know I'm about to be killed.
She pushes against me, in an attempt to get her personal space, but the train has filled up by now, and she's stuck there. "What are you doing, you idiot?! Get off of me!" Well, I'd be glad to oblige, but I'm sorta crushed against a wall. I give her a pleading look, and manage to shift away just a bit, but she's still pressed up against my chest.
"Sorry." She seems to get even more frustrated, so I just don't say anything.
"Look, just don't move. This is bad enough as it is."
"Uhh... okay." Now that I'm close enough to see her well, it's easy to tell she's beautiful. Crystal blue eyes, creamy white skin, that long auburn hair, and a killer body, at least from the way the bulky clothes seem to mold to her. She's a foreigner, as far as I can tell, but quite the beauty nonetheless.
"Stop staring at me or you won't live long enough to regret it." My eyes bulge out of my head, and for a moment, there's a fire in her eyes, and I can't help but wonder if she means it. That fire starts to draw me in, and I can't stop looking at her.
SLAP.
"Oww."
"Idiot."
"Sorry." That look again. I breathe a sigh of relief as we pull into the station and everyone files out. She pushes away from me and follows after. The newfound freedom of not being flattened against a pane of glass is both a reward and a punishment. She had been warm, pressed against me, and it was most certainly not a bad thing. I see the girl disappear into the crowd, and realize I'm smiling.
SaSoTsAsOtSaSoTsAsOt
Author's Notes:
Many thanks to XXXG-00W0, FinalMax, VerbalKint, stormofdragons and Cavalier for helping me flesh out at least a little bit of the storyline. Thanks to SnowyFairy16 for prereading. Arigato oneechan. More thanks to Million Dead, for the awesome song this story is based on, Smiling at Strangers on Trains.
Oh yeah. I don't own Eva. Don't sue.