Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! O.o

Author's Note(s): One thing real quick: the words sometimes stick together. This is caused by saving the document in Quickedit and it's basically impossible for me to fix it. So, if you notice any of these words, then please just disregard them –there's nothing I can do about it. I apologize in advance. Not much else to say here, it's a confusing first chapter, and I hope you like it! Read on!


Chapter 1:

The Calm Before The Storm.


Zooming pitch jet planes soured past in the sky above. They broke through dense rain clouds that loomed overhead in a taunting smile, and left puffs of smoke in their buzzing wake. A rumbling wave of thunder reverberated after them like a shadow stalking it's target in the dark. The sun mounted above the hazy mist that was successfully concealing the outer boundaries of the atmosphere from those on ground level.

Haruko plucked at the tight strings on her sapphire blue bass guitar. She stood with the instrument's body resting comfortably against the tight green shirt that wrapped around her torso and ran down her arms before falling lifelessly off her wrists in uneven chops. She had her guitar case opened at the floor beside her, the colbalt fur lining being smashed down by the layer of loose change pedestrians had deposited while passing by.

"She's poor?" Mamimi asked, walking arm-in-arm with Tasuku in the general direction of the female musician. Haruko's deep bass sounds continued to pulsate through the crowed airport. The beat that resounded through the facility was obviously an original style. Very unique in it's tone, beat, and vibrations.

"Nah," Tasuku's baritone voice replied. "If she was really that poor, she would sell that guitar of hers'."

Naota looked over at his elder brother at his side. His older and only sibling had been his mentor since as long as he could remember. His brother's fiery crimson locks sprawled out around his head in random succession, a deep red resonating at it's center, and golden waves blending themselves in from there to the very tips of his hairs. Burnished emerald eyes could be seen under the light bangs that fell over to his forehead like a branch of a Weeping Willow. Despite Tasuku's apparent good looks,the quality that was important most was he outstanding ability in baseball.

He caught a glimpse of the pink headed girl over his brother's shoulder. She slammed on her guitar cords with no mercy or care. His line of sight immediately fastened down on Haruko and her music. She was nothing short of a brilliant guitarist, that was for certain. There was an unnatural aura of charisma that floated around her. She glowed a marvelous sheen as she created her melody. There was just something about Mary –erm . . . Her.

"But, Tas-Chan," she said, "that's her only way to make money."

"Nope," he said in a defiant tone. "See that guitar she has?" Tasuku pointed over to Haruko as they treaded casually toward her.

Naota followed his brother's gaze along with Mamimi.

The guitar was a plain cobalt blue that encircled an abnormal shape of white. It was professionally tuned and was played by no amateur. The rhythm created a mood that went along with her charade; a deep resonating pitch sprawled forward, quick and lively, but not upbeat enough to be classified as happy.

"That's a Rickenbacker."

"Rickenbacker?" Mamimi echoed in question, now intently staring at the bass as they slowly made their way up to the musician.

"4001."

"4001?"

"Right. A Rickenbacker 4001, 1970's model," Tasuku explained expertly. "Paul McCartney used to play a Rickenbacker 4001S, which is only slightly different."

"Paul McCartney?" She blinked with a blank glaze over her face.

Tasuku looked down at her with a sigh, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Nevermind."

Naota was half listening to their pointless conversation, his gaze still stuck on Haruko. Sure enough, as his eyes treaded up from the guitar's body to he saw, "Rickenbacker" in gold lettering curling up the neck. He spoke up, his voice distant, "What's so great about Rickenbacker's anyway?"

"They're worth around a thousand dollars each, bro," he said. "Pretty pricey merchandise for a homeless person to have."

"So she's a fake, then?" his younger brother asked, now only a few feet and a small barrier of people standing in between him and the so-called peasant.

"That's my bet." The eldest patted his pocket. "My money is staying right here. No way I'd deal out any cash for a scam."

The trio continued their stride toward the exit and soon the conversation had jumped to music artists and types. Naota's eyes were casted down at the ground, as if looking for a lucky penny. God only knew that soon he would need all the luck he could get.


"Erm . . . " Shigenkuni grumbled under his breath, an ancient, weathered, broom in hand. "Where's the kids when ya need 'em!"

Dust blew up and out of the front door in mass billows as the old man swept the bakery. He hacked a cough and wiped his brow. Piles of out-dated magazines lined the shelves and filled the covers. Another flop issue from the great journalist.

"They're out with their friends, Dad," Kamon replied. He sat on the edge of the steps leading up to the second level of the house. "Let them be kids..."

"You could be down here helping me with this too, ya know!" he yelled, poking Kamon in the side with the end of the broom.

"But Dad..." he whined. "I have to finish this article on-"

"Excuse me," a voice sounded at the entrance to the bakery.

Both Kamon and his ornery father turned in the direction of the customer. He was standing in the doorway, his body outlined by the sun setting in the background behind him, that was contrasting with the dimly lit store front. After gaining the attention of the pair, he walked into the faint light of the bakery. He was wearing a formal business suit and tie, dark glasses shielding his eyes.

Oh crap! It's the feds! We're screwed, the old man thought, a nervous sweat developing on his skin. He scurried up to the man and held out his hand. "Hello there, sir," he greeted.

"This is the Nandaba residence, and it's also a bakery?" he quired, shaking the man's hand.

"It is."

"I'm principal Amarao from Shinden Highschool," he explained.

A wave of relief washed over the Grandfather. Phew... "Oh Sir... uh... on what grounds do we owe this visit?"

Kamon had come down the stairs, and was now sitting at the cashiers desk, sifting through papers.

"In regard to your family, your youngest son," the principal paused and took out a small piece of paper from his coat pocket. It was crumpled, and looked as if someone attempted to fold it into a square. He unfolded the note and read it swiftly. "Your youngest son Naota Nandaba, has just begun at our school, correct?"

"Yes, and it's Tasuku's fourth year."

"Tasuku has... uh, made us most proud. He's made Shinden High number one in our division in Baseball for three years now," he said, "quite a swing on that kid, eh?"

"Mmhmm," the old man mumbled in agreement. "I was his coach, ya know?"

"Is that so?"

"Yup! Taught that kid everything he knows!" He laughed, his boasts continuing. "We used to play baseball everyday and..."

Kamon spoke up, now sitting on the edge of the desk, and loaf of bread in his arms. "Would you like some bread while you're here?" he offered.

"Maybe later," he said, waving him away. "Now, about your youngest son. I just wanted to inform you that his grades are not matching his test scores..."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm saying that, Naota isn't doing all that he is capable of doing. His test scores are high, but his grades are near failing," Amarao explained. "It could be that he just isn't being challenged enough. Gets bored... does drugs... ends up teaching gym to snot-nosed teenagers..." he rambled on.

"Sir?"

"Anyway, I have a plan to fix that." He ran a hand through his hair and sat down in a chair by a magazine rack. "But first, I have a proposition for you..."


Night had fallen on the city, a dark veil covering the river, the moon and stars reflecting off the water. Crickets chirped their nightly ballad in a mix with the instruments of silence. Street lamps lit the road-bridge above them, few cars whizzing by at the hour. The grass was a warm, comforting blanket over the cold earth.

Naota yawned and stretched out. He glanced over at his brother and Mamimi, all cuddled up under the bridge. He sighed and stood, throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

"Shouldn't we be getting home, Tas?" he asked, tilting his head back. "We have school tomorrow."

"Aww . . . " she whined, snuggling closer to Tasuku. She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "I don't want you to go."

Tasuku smiled down at her, then looked up at his younger sibling. "Hey... uh... it's not that late, Nao."

Mamimi giggled. She leaned her head up and smirked before pulling him into a kiss.

Naota winced and turned away. "Sure..." He took one glance back at them before walking away. "Come home when you're finished making-out, Tas'."

"Okay, kid! Cover for me, will ya?"

"Whatever."


End Note(s): So... next chapter is where the fun REALLY starts. It was a little confusing, I know, but it'll all be explained soon. This chapter was just meant to give you a sense of where the characters are in their lives, and that sort of thing. The next chappie will be better, promise! Review and tell me what you think please! For those who know me, they know I do a, "Review trade" type of thing. You read and review one of my fics, I read and review one of your fics. It's only fair, right?

Review please!