Birdy The Mighty Fan Fiction ❯ Blue Monday ❯ Blue Monday ( Chapter 1 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: Edmondia Dantes 
Life, the universe, and color.
Anime/Manga: Birdy The Mighty Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 07.08.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 1.7K | Status: Completed
Life, the universe, and color.
Anime/Manga: Birdy The Mighty Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 07.08.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 1.7K | Status: Completed
* * *
Blue Monday
by Edmondia Dantes
Disclaimer: Ain't mine. No sue. No $. Let me be, evil lawyer-type personages!
AN: Weirdness is the order of the day. Has anyone else noticed the serious lack of Birdy fanfic out there?
* * *
Blue. The sky was blue - but more than a mere color, it shimmered with gossamer clouds and held an indefinite sparkle that glittered coyly on the edge of imagination.
Tsutomu closed his eyes.
Blue. A bold, shimmering shade, vibrant and pure and bright.
He folded his arms behind his head with a sigh, letting his eyes slide open.
Blue.
And from below, the steady hum of traffic and people, a low murmur that reverberated as a muted hum in his ears. In the middle of the day, the irate honking of horns came only infrequently, and fewer brawls erupted on the street. He wasn't in school - apparently he had overslept, and then she'd taken over and he had somehow wound up with a bowl of soup steaming next to his bed when he finally woke up. He had eaten it, looked around, and decided to take another nap.
It was a bit of a puzzle as how he'd gotten to the roof in this body. He wasn't the most athletic of young men, after all. Even despite all that had happened, he still wasn't.
Besides, she took care of everything anyway. Not that he minded, far from it. He was far too meek for his own good - it was rather pathetic, really, that she always had to drag him kicking and screaming into a fray. But confrontations had never been his style - meek and quiet and shy, that had been him for a very long time.
In most ways, he supposed, he still was. Unassuming, polite, soft-spoken, and nothing out of the ordinary. Just a nice young boy.
Though his family occcasionally tried to prod and poke him into things, he'd always managed to back away with a smile. They weren't a bad family, not at all. Sure, every once in a while they questioned his sanity, but really, who wouldn't? He was, after all, the same boy who had raced through the house naked, argued with himself loud enough for his sister to hear, and strolled around for a week with his hair stuck out at bizarre angles from his head. He must have seemed a little nuts. Things like this never happened to anyone.
Well, he could think of one person they definitely happened to, but she didn't count.
She was different, of course, his antithesis in every way. And it was all her fault, anyway. She'd gone and killed him, hadn't she?
He repressed a snicker. It wasn't the most auspicious of beginnings, really. She'd certainly been sheepish about it. After all, she had been trying to kill somebody else.
That was a frightening thought. Naturally, he didn't think on it often. Sure, the danger and the fighting and the occasional broken arm, those he could come to accept. But sometimes he got flashes of - something - slightly darker, colder, hidden within the depths of her hotheaded little self.
It was rather difficult to reconcile that with her usual cheerfulness, inquisitive nature, and impulsiveness.
He felt his lips curve into a smile. Strange, really. He hadn't asked for this situation, for those odd times when she seized control of their shared body and made him look ridiculous, for the constant restlessness in her nature, for the whole 'running headlong into trouble with a maniacal grin plastered across her (their?) face' gig.
But without her, he wondered, would he have even passed his exams? His grades had certainly improved since she'd taken up residence in his mind and body. Though she did get exasperated with him when he couldn't figure out what she was talking about. Sometimes he wondered why she bothered - if he pestered her enough, she would help him mid-test.
Of course, having a girl in his head had its downsides.
He had begun to avoid his perverted buddies - and despite the fact that she teased him, he could stand her amusement more than his own mortification. It wasn't just that she was a girl, she was... was...
Well, she was prettier than any model in a magazine.
He turned bright red at the thought, but knew it was true. If she ever struck a pose like any of the ladies in those things -
~Tsutomu, are you getting a funny feeling inside?~ she questioned out of nowhere, mischief lurking in her words.
Tsutomu wanted to die right then and there. "Iie! Birdy, you're awful!"
~And you're such a shy little boy,~ she laughed in reply.
If his face had been flushed before, he had to have the complexion of a tomato by now. Why did these things always happen to him?
Then he forgot what he was about to say, because his body was abrubtly flipped to its feet and bounced across his rooftop to that of the house next door.
Only it wasn't his body anymore.
It was a truly strange sensation, the feel of himself being pushed back to the edge of their mind, the tingling shiver that ran down his(their) spine as the change happened, the subtle shift of muscle and bone, and the oh-so-bizarre feel of his hair lengthening to tumble down her back.
He felt Birdy smile.
"Patrol time," she murmured, casually shucking his sweater and unbuttoning his shirt enough to allow complete freedom of movement.
Then they were airborne.
Blue.
The color of the afternoon sky as she leapt towards it, the rush of wind through her hair, the rush of the rooftops underneath her bare feet. The taste of the air, warm with sunlight.
Blue.
She laughed as she somersaulted across a street, landing them easily atop a grocery store. Within a second, they were flying again. This was by far the best part of all, the easy, graceful freedom of being able to do things a mere human like himself would never be able to experience.
It was wonderful, and the day was gorgeous.
The sky glinted. Blue.
A sudden, strange thought occured to Tsutomu as the world rushed by.
Blue.
Deep, intelligent, sparkling.
Blue.
Wildly brilliant, firey, alive.
Blue.
The color of her eyes.
* * *
AN: ...yeah. Feedback, pretty please?
email: mjalta@yahoo.com
Blue Monday
by Edmondia Dantes
Disclaimer: Ain't mine. No sue. No $. Let me be, evil lawyer-type personages!
AN: Weirdness is the order of the day. Has anyone else noticed the serious lack of Birdy fanfic out there?
* * *
Blue. The sky was blue - but more than a mere color, it shimmered with gossamer clouds and held an indefinite sparkle that glittered coyly on the edge of imagination.
Tsutomu closed his eyes.
Blue. A bold, shimmering shade, vibrant and pure and bright.
He folded his arms behind his head with a sigh, letting his eyes slide open.
Blue.
And from below, the steady hum of traffic and people, a low murmur that reverberated as a muted hum in his ears. In the middle of the day, the irate honking of horns came only infrequently, and fewer brawls erupted on the street. He wasn't in school - apparently he had overslept, and then she'd taken over and he had somehow wound up with a bowl of soup steaming next to his bed when he finally woke up. He had eaten it, looked around, and decided to take another nap.
It was a bit of a puzzle as how he'd gotten to the roof in this body. He wasn't the most athletic of young men, after all. Even despite all that had happened, he still wasn't.
Besides, she took care of everything anyway. Not that he minded, far from it. He was far too meek for his own good - it was rather pathetic, really, that she always had to drag him kicking and screaming into a fray. But confrontations had never been his style - meek and quiet and shy, that had been him for a very long time.
In most ways, he supposed, he still was. Unassuming, polite, soft-spoken, and nothing out of the ordinary. Just a nice young boy.
Though his family occcasionally tried to prod and poke him into things, he'd always managed to back away with a smile. They weren't a bad family, not at all. Sure, every once in a while they questioned his sanity, but really, who wouldn't? He was, after all, the same boy who had raced through the house naked, argued with himself loud enough for his sister to hear, and strolled around for a week with his hair stuck out at bizarre angles from his head. He must have seemed a little nuts. Things like this never happened to anyone.
Well, he could think of one person they definitely happened to, but she didn't count.
She was different, of course, his antithesis in every way. And it was all her fault, anyway. She'd gone and killed him, hadn't she?
He repressed a snicker. It wasn't the most auspicious of beginnings, really. She'd certainly been sheepish about it. After all, she had been trying to kill somebody else.
That was a frightening thought. Naturally, he didn't think on it often. Sure, the danger and the fighting and the occasional broken arm, those he could come to accept. But sometimes he got flashes of - something - slightly darker, colder, hidden within the depths of her hotheaded little self.
It was rather difficult to reconcile that with her usual cheerfulness, inquisitive nature, and impulsiveness.
He felt his lips curve into a smile. Strange, really. He hadn't asked for this situation, for those odd times when she seized control of their shared body and made him look ridiculous, for the constant restlessness in her nature, for the whole 'running headlong into trouble with a maniacal grin plastered across her (their?) face' gig.
But without her, he wondered, would he have even passed his exams? His grades had certainly improved since she'd taken up residence in his mind and body. Though she did get exasperated with him when he couldn't figure out what she was talking about. Sometimes he wondered why she bothered - if he pestered her enough, she would help him mid-test.
Of course, having a girl in his head had its downsides.
He had begun to avoid his perverted buddies - and despite the fact that she teased him, he could stand her amusement more than his own mortification. It wasn't just that she was a girl, she was... was...
Well, she was prettier than any model in a magazine.
He turned bright red at the thought, but knew it was true. If she ever struck a pose like any of the ladies in those things -
~Tsutomu, are you getting a funny feeling inside?~ she questioned out of nowhere, mischief lurking in her words.
Tsutomu wanted to die right then and there. "Iie! Birdy, you're awful!"
~And you're such a shy little boy,~ she laughed in reply.
If his face had been flushed before, he had to have the complexion of a tomato by now. Why did these things always happen to him?
Then he forgot what he was about to say, because his body was abrubtly flipped to its feet and bounced across his rooftop to that of the house next door.
Only it wasn't his body anymore.
It was a truly strange sensation, the feel of himself being pushed back to the edge of their mind, the tingling shiver that ran down his(their) spine as the change happened, the subtle shift of muscle and bone, and the oh-so-bizarre feel of his hair lengthening to tumble down her back.
He felt Birdy smile.
"Patrol time," she murmured, casually shucking his sweater and unbuttoning his shirt enough to allow complete freedom of movement.
Then they were airborne.
Blue.
The color of the afternoon sky as she leapt towards it, the rush of wind through her hair, the rush of the rooftops underneath her bare feet. The taste of the air, warm with sunlight.
Blue.
She laughed as she somersaulted across a street, landing them easily atop a grocery store. Within a second, they were flying again. This was by far the best part of all, the easy, graceful freedom of being able to do things a mere human like himself would never be able to experience.
It was wonderful, and the day was gorgeous.
The sky glinted. Blue.
A sudden, strange thought occured to Tsutomu as the world rushed by.
Blue.
Deep, intelligent, sparkling.
Blue.
Wildly brilliant, firey, alive.
Blue.
The color of her eyes.
* * *
AN: ...yeah. Feedback, pretty please?
email: mjalta@yahoo.com