Disclaimer: The idea of communicators in the Klonoaverse was first thought up by another person. Klonoa belongs to Namco.
Author's Note: Yep, come back from large hiatus. Fun. I've got so much coursework to be doing, it's unbearable. It's driving me proper crazy. But I still managed to write something, yay. Basically, Klonoa recieves a parcel and the contents leave him agonized.
Enjoy.
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It'll ring.
No it won't.
It'll ring.
But what would the message be if it did ring? And from whom? Do I even know what I'm thinking about? No. Do I even know what the hell will happen if I answer it? No. I should forget about this. It's getting bloody ridiculous. Two months I've spent resting here, safe from the battles of the outside world, and then suddenly this thing turns up and sparks my curiosity again. Great.
It won't ring.
I sigh, and lie down on my bed, staring at the communicator. Damn it; why must it torment me so? It's nothing but a communicator. It's a bloody handheld talkie. I should stop thinking about this and move on, and discard this piece of junk somewhere where nobody can find it. I mean, come on. There are better ones out on the market; I've never seen such a stereotypical communicator before, all black and shiny with a lid. It's so... I don't know, it's something you think of but never expect. That's what stereotype is all about. When you meet a teenager, you don't envision the moody, emotional, tall youngster, even though that's the image of a 'typical' teenager we've come to accept. It's the same with this communicator.
But my mind, being the curious thing it is, won't leave me alone. It keeps asking me questions I can't answer. Who sent this, for instance? For what purpose? Where was this sent from? And mostly, why did I recieve it all of a sudden?
The communicator was found at my doorstep three days ago, wrapped in a paper package. Surely the sender was careless, or was out of resources - because nobody would wrap anything in paper while the ground was wet from the rainy season. Either that, or the sender was not aware of the unexpected weather conditions of this place. There was no name, no address, but that was to be expected. There were no sightings of the sender, so it is quite possible that he or she snuck in at night and left quickly, or they used a Postman Moo. Plenty of them around here. They're tame, and as long as they recieve food or coins, they're happy to work for anyone. They're careful with packages, don't draw much interest, and are capable of stealth. They give away nothing, because they don't speak Lunatean. Normally they're used for romantic presents and secret messages - but this -
What am I thinking of? I don't even know who put this on my doorstep on the first place, and I'm thinking of Postmen Moos. Klonoa, come on, get a hold of yourself. It's just a bloody communicator.
I realize I've not been telling the full truth. This communicator is actually quite nicer than it looks. When I flip the lid open, I thought there were just the usual layout of buttons. This one has dreamstones embedded into it, making it capable of attack if someone wanted to and the owner could use dream energy. It's powered by dreamstones, too, so it has no need for batteries. It also has a very unusual layout; I think that's an illusion, rather, for people who can't use dream energy. If I stare into it hard enough there are new functions. This one helps me track back to the original buyer, if I wanted to. Let's try it out, then...
Damn. The sender is too clever for this. He or she has erased all records.
Somehow, I feel that this communicator holds a new chance - a new oppurtunity. This is no ordinary communication device. Only someone with a large sum of money, and the knowledge to use it, would be able to buy this.
Who could that be?
Let me think. Pango is very knowledgeable, but he cannot use dream energy. Lolo can use dream energy, but then she knows little of technology. Leorina? She knows both, alright, but she's too careful with her money. Besides, she is too straightforward to just enigmatically send things. Knowing her, if she wanted to talk to me, she'll burst straight through the door.
That leaves Garlen... and Guntz.
There is no way Garlen's alive. He is powerful, yes, with vast knowledge of technology, but he is not alive, not in this world. Why would he send this to me even if he were alive, anyway? So he could send threatening messages and spam the inbox for eternity? No.
But Guntz...
He has been gone for half a year. Half a year. I have no idea where he is or what he has been doing all this time. He never contacted me, and he didn't leave anything for me to contact him. For months I searched, but could find nothing.
I could have forgotten.
But I didn't.
Guntz is too vivid, too bright, too alive inside my mind; I don't know why but I feel a close tie binding me to him. He saved me before, he helped me, and that is not something you can ever forget. I can visualize him too clearly; the golden-black fur, the long, shiny raven-black hair he always tied in a ponytail, the tight clothes he always wore, the set, handsome features... and his eyes. How could I forget his eyes? I can imagine them, a beautiful sapphire blue, cold and cruel at first glance but tinged with sorrow when looked closely at.
I know so little of him, but he knew so much of me.
Oh, Guntz...
I don't know why I can't forget him. I simply don't know. There are people I've met over years, and I recall only a few of them. He's just one more person I've encountered. But I have no idea what made him so different, so memorable. I owe my life to him, he helped me out of my naivety... Is that what makes him unforgettable?
Is the sender of this communicator even him?
Let it be him, I find myself wishing. Please, Goddess, let it be him. I miss him too much. I want him back in my life again. I want to travel alongside him, feel the touch of his hands on my head, and perhaps talk with him every so often. That doesn't sound like much to ask, but Guntz never really talked to me about his past or any other event. Without him I feel so empty, so alone, it's unbearable. I've never felt like this in my life. I've never felt so dependent on someone before...
I sigh. I'm fantasizing. It'll never come true anyway, it's never going to-
The communicator rings. I jump for a moment and stare, transfixed. Is this a delusion to trick me? Surely it can't be - nobody knows this number, except for the sender. I can find out who it was. I snatch up the communicator, flip it open and put it to my lips.
And I say nothing, the words frozen on my lips. What can I say now? I can't just say 'Hello, do I know you? I think I do. Why did you send this to me?'. That just... isn't right.
"Hello?" I finally whisper into the communicator.
"Greetings." An oh-so-famillar voice replies, the voice calm and uniform. "I have kept you waiting for a long time. I apologize." I gape, standing still, hardly able to believe this is happening. Is this just a delusion, or am I really hearing - him?
"Are you the Shinigami?" I ask finally, after a long silence. There is silence on the line, and then the voice is back.
"Indeed yes, I am."
"Oh, my God." I whisper. "I can't believe this! Gu-"
"Hush!" He quietens me. "I cannot guarantee this connection. But there is no harm in speaking itself. Speak with care, please." So like him, careful yet considerate at the same time. My doubts vanish. It's him, I'm sure it is.
"Yes." I reply, still in a daze. "Are you near my location?"
"I am."
"Do you remember where we parted months ago?" We said farewell on the Bell's Hill. Only he knows that.
"Indeed I do. I am twenty minutes away by motorcycle from the location concerned."
He must be in Jugkettle, if that is so. I draw a breath. "We must meet."
"Yes, we must." He answers, sounding almost pleased. "I will be with you quite soon. Noon, today, at the location we last met." I look at the clock. Eleven thirty.
"Accepted." I breath out again. "Don't... don't forget the medal. Identification."
There is silence on the line.
"How could I ever forget?" His voice is suddenly soft, gentle and kind. I feel like I could melt hearing that tone of voice; it sounds so lovely, just what I wanted to hear from him all this time, the voice I only imagined I could hear in dreams. "I shall see you soon. Over and out."
"Affirmative. Connection closing." I reply shakily. I snap the lid of the communicator shut and set it down, my mind whirling.
Is this all a dream? It doesn't feel like it. This all feels too... real. Why did Guntz call to me? What had he been doing? But the doubts in my head vanish and I'm left with a pleasant feeling; Guntz is alive, he contacted me, and I'm going to see him again. I look up at the clock. Eleven thirty-two. The walk to the Bell's Hill takes twenty-five minutes. I will be with him soon.
A soft laugh escapes me, and I feel myself smiling. I grab my ring, do up my boots and run out of the door, still smiling.
I'm not alone.
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This, as you would know, takes place just before Namco x Capcom. Naturally, Guntz shows up in time for this one, makes further arrangements, and is late the next time, and gets a tongue-lashing from Klonoa. x.x
I plan to be starting a threeshot. I have the full story planned out. It'll be of a pairing, but I don't know which one to choose. Guntz x Klonoa or Guntz x Lolo seems the most likely, but I'm kinda torn here. I would love any suggestions.
-This story was completed in the 17th of October, in the year 2007.-