Naruto Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Since When Do Heeros Have a Sense of Humor? ❯ Getting Started ( Chapter 2 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Armina Skitty 
Armina protects Heero from scary nurses and get's the things she needs to be a trainer.
Anime/Manga: Naruto Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Comedy | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 10.07.2005 | Updated On: 03.06.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 5.1K | Visits: 307 | Status: Completed
Armina protects Heero from scary nurses and get's the things she needs to be a trainer.
Anime/Manga: Naruto Fan Fiction / Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Comedy | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 10.07.2005 | Updated On: 03.06.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 5.1K | Visits: 307 | Status: Completed
2
Disclaimer: to disclaim or not to disclaim, that is the question. To follow in the footsteps of Black Dragon6 or to go upon a route of my own?
Heero did not want to be caught. He wouldn’t even be facing the threat of capture if it wasn’t for her. So she was going to protect him from the other Trainers who only saw him as an un-captured Bish that they could get their grubby mitts on. What was so hard to understand about that?
“For the last time: no I don’t want him, no you may not have him and no, I won’t leave for Orientation until I get your solemn oath that aside from setting his leg and feeding him, you’ll leave him alone!” That last was all but shouted as Armina glared fiercely at the nurse in charge of Heero. The nurse’s brow wrinkled.
“I don’t see why you have to be so possessive. A lot of people would like a Heero and-“ The uber-blonde nurse got interrupted
“That’s just my point! A lot of people do want Heero but he doesn’t want to be caught! The only reason he’s here is because I hurt him and I couldn’t help him to a Bish Village! So leave him alone!”
“If he didn’t want to be caught then what was he doing along the road where you found him?” All that hair dye must have seeped through her skull and killed her brain cells. She can’t be held accountable for her stupidity. Armina recited to herself as she tried to lower her blood pressure.
“He wasn’t by the road, as I said before, he was in the forest, as I also said before. I have recently entered this world, and I entered it in mid-air. I fell on him and broke his leg. As a moral human being I could not leave him there, I had to make sure he was given proper medical attention and since I was told, by him, that Trainers may not enter Bish Villages, I had to bring him to a Trainer Village. That is why he is here, not because he wants to be captured, but because he needs help. Do you understand?” Armina recited carefully and slowly. Maybe now it would get through-
“But any Bishonen that comes to a Trainer Village wants to be captured. What other reason would he have for coming here?” The nurse looked genuinely confused. Armina was getting a genuine migraine. Just as Armina was inhaling to scream in frustration, salvation with an IQ appeared.
“I’ll handle this, you see to the comfort of the patient.” A woman with authority said to the nurse after giving Armina a look of sympathy. The blonde nodded and sauntered back to Heero’s room. The new woman then looked Armina over, gauging her.
Armina returned the favor, and liked what she saw. Unlike the nurse, this woman was dressed practically, with t-shirt, sneakers, and jeans belted close by a broad belt from which a number of things hung. Her hair was held back in a no-nonsense ponytail and her eyes held a patient, intelligent look. All of this made for a competent air. Armina felt her headache beginning to ebb as it looked like she was going to be believed at last.
“Hi, my name’s Armina. May I ask your name?”
“Tokio, or Tokio-sama, as some people insist. I helped make this place so I guess that’s why people do insist on the ‘sama‘. I’ve heard a number of things about you already and, knowing the gossip vine, I’m sure none of it’s true.” A quirked brow invited explanation.
“That depends on what you’ve heard. If you’ve heard that I’m a stubborn bitch who will demand the answer I want, then that’s correct. If you’ve heard that I’m being utterly unreasonable, then that’s false. I don’t think that leaving Heero alone and free is unreasonable. If these people lived without him yesterday, then they can live without him today and tomorrow and how ever many day’s he stays here until he’s healed. And if it’s required that I stay here, in his room even, to make sure he stays free, I’ll do it!” Armina glared defiantly at Tokio-sama, “It’s my fault he’s in a Trainer Village in the first place.”
“They were right, you are a weird one. But that’s fine, not many people see the Bishies as people after all.”
“They are people, Heero is at the very least! He acts nothing like the Heero in the show, he acts like a completely unique individual.” ‘Mina protested.
“I know that they are, I helped design this world, mind. And I agree with you, that this Heero should be left alone if that’s what he wants. There is a protocol that if a Bish comes to a Trainer Village looking for help then that Bish is sacrosanct and untouchable. This Heero obviously comes under that heading and must therefore receive the aid he needs and that’s all. If he changes his mind and wishes to be captured and says as much, that would be one thing, but currently…” Tokio-sama shrugged. “I’ll fill out the paper work saying that he’s an emissary-for-aid and is granted immunity. Now, if I do that will you go to orientation?”
“Sure, now that I know Heero won’t be caught if I leave.” Armina said with a relieved smile.
“Good, now come along, the Orientation building is next door. Convenient, ne?”
The professor had done a good job getting the basics across; the Chibi, San, Sama stages, the time and distance limits that you could be separated from your captured Bishies, and other warnings like the Bish territories. He hadn’t gone over other things though, like the emissary-for-aid thing. I bet that there are a lot of rules that exist but that he can’t go over, not if he wants to keep the class awake. As if he had read her mind, the professor started to hand out booklets
“There are a lot of other things that you don’t necessarily need to know right now, but should look into for the future. Those things are covered in here; other rules and codes of conduct, basic how-to’s for situations that you might find yourself in, like if your Bishies decide to mate and you find yourself in the position of breeder,”
Armina looked up at that and narrowed her eyes. Mate? Breeder? Those were animal breeding terms! You don’t hold intelligent conversations with animals! You do with people, and I may not be the smartest girl in the world but I still held an intelligent conversation with Heero!
The professor continued, oblivious to Armina’s silent protests, “and what you should do if you find yourself the expectant parent of a Half-Bish.”
That caught the attention of the entire class.
“Half-Bish?” Asked a young brunette girl at the back of the class, “Like, half Trainer, half Bish?” the professor nodded.
“You mean we’re compatible with them?!” a black haired boy gaped in obvious shock.
“Indeed we are. The revered Lady Silver Seishi-sama and revered lady Tokio-sama decided that it would be a good idea. Many people want to make a family with the one he or she loves and if that loved one is a Bish, how cruel would it be to not have a child by that loved one?” the professor then sighed, “Unfortunately, that brings other problems, like prejudice and the resultant cruelty towards Half-Bish. Many Trainers don’t understand Half-Bish and most full Bishies don’t accept the Half-Bish.”
Armina thought on that, “Like the so called ‘Oreos’ back in the other world, half African, half Caucasian. Those people got a lot of grief at first as well.”
The professor nodded. “And for as little reason. The children from two different races are often the result of love. Why shouldn’t such children be as accepted as the emotion itself? And on that thought, it’s time for the next part of orientation: getting your gear.” The professor rose and gestured for the four new Trainers to follow him into the next room and, intrigued, they did so.
In that room was a table full of… clothing? Belts, vests, and hats adorned the surface. Behind that table was a half-wall which opened into what looked like a pharmaceutical lab with all sorts of various equipment. There was a young man in some sort of uniform behind the table while behind the half wall was a middle aged woman in different kind of uniform, smiling benignly out at everyone.
“Alright minna-“ the professor began. Armina restrained the urge to respond to her nickname. “-time for you to get your Bish-balls. We’ll have to draw your blood to make your own, personal balls. What we get now will be good for around one hundred balls. When, or even if, you use that many, you’ll have to go to an Orientation building like this one to give some more blood for another batch.” The professor blinked and smiled, “Well, who’s first?”
No one moved. Armina looked at her fellow newbies with a slight touch of scorn, walked up to the woman behind the half-wall who held an empty, capped syringe and held out her arm. The woman smiled approvingly at her, swabbed her arm at the inner elbow with an alcohol wipe and uncapped the syringe. Armina temporarily became fascinated with the clock above the door on the opposite wall. She felt a slight pain, as if she had gotten a splinter while gardening, then a pressure.
“Alright, you’re all done.” The very motherly-acting woman said with a pat. Armina looked at her arm, where a small cotton ball was taped to her inner elbow over a vein. That must have been the pressure. “Go ahead and pick out your supplies, by the time you’re done with that, your balls should be ready.”
“Thank you.” Armina replied, giving the woman a half bow, Japanese style. The woman beamed again before turning to the next vic- er, Trainer, the black haired boy who looked miffed that a mere female had been braver than he. ‘Mina ignored him and turned to the table and the young man behind it. “So, what’s all this stuff for?”
“Well, we have your common Bish-ball belt, your Bish-ball vest and your Trainer pack.” He said, lifting up an empty backpack that had been hidden under the table. “We also have a complementary Trainer hat, new this year, perfect for keeping the sun and rain outta your eyes on those long treks between cities-“ he was interrupted by an exclamation of dismay.
“What? You mean we have to walk everywhere?” cried out the final new Trainer, a long-haired red-headed girl of probably 16 to 17 years of age. Her clothing looked very fashionable, which caused ‘Mina to instinctively dislike her, having been at the bottom of the social pyramid almost all her life.
“Well, yes.” The man answered, a little baffled by her behavior. “The only vehicles are in the hands of emergency officials, or the public trains. On rare occasions, when we get someone with a physical disability, that person is given a motor vehicle, but everyone else walks. Cuts down on congestion and pollution, we are trying to create a better, cleaner world here after all.” That last bit was said with some understandable pride. The red-head looked horrified.
“You don’t expect me to, to walk everywhere do you? I’ll get my clothes all dusty and-“
“Oh, can it already!” ‘Mina snapped, her patience exhausted and then some. “In case you haven’t noticed, no one here cares about you personal crisis, which isn’t one in the first place. No one cares about your clothes, you status or you for that matter if you continue carrying on like that!” The girl looked utterly shocked, as if she had never expected to be addressed in such a fashion. Spoiled little social princess-bitch. Probably queen of her school, expecting everyone to lay down in front of her so she can walk on them and not get her newly painted toe nails scuffed.
“If you don’t like the way things are run here and the fact that you really don’t matter all the much you can just say the word and go home, didn’t you hear that? Or were you waiting for the rest of us to take your notes and do your thinking so you could remain queen of the campus with out working or sweating a minute? Well guess what sweety, you’re going to have to do your own work from now on and sink or swim by your own effort, just like the real world. No one is going to let you sleep your way to the top here, and I say it’s about damn time that a place like this came about!”
While the uber-popular red-head gaped like a landed fish from being spoken to in such a fashion, ‘Mina turned to the man by the table, who was also looking a little stunned at what had just happened. In fact, everyone in the room looked stunned at that outburst, as if they had never expected the nearly ugly, glasses-bearing, clearly unpopular girl to have spine enough to snap back at the popular crowd. Armina didn’t care what they thought, she never had.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like one of those vests, and a cap please.” She said, in a much more polite and deferential tone to the young man by the table.
“Uuhh, what? Oh, yeah, okay..” he responded, as he woodenly handed her the requested items. ‘Mina took them and went over to a full size mirror in a corner to put them on. She stared at her reflection and her reflection stared back.
A tall, thin, plain, young woman stood before her in the mirror, the face too long, the nose too large, the jaw too heavy for anything like beauty or even mere prettiness to be held there. The fact that her features were even and her eyes large, soft and filled with a general friendliness kept her from being truly ugly. Then there was her hair, unruly but the only thing about her that could be called beautiful, composed of blonde, red, brown and even a little black hair, its diverse hues made it lovely. Not that it saved her. She was too skinny, breasts too small, hips too narrow, legs too scrawny even if they were fashionably long. No, no beauty, or prettiness, could ever be found in her form, a thing she had known for how long?
Fifth grade? Fourth even? Doesn’t matter, I was unpopular before I even knew what unpopularity was. And that had hurt, at one time, being the scapegoat, the joke butt, the one that everyone teased. It hadn’t been until high school that she had found salvation. She had moved, remaining unpopular, but had lost the few friends she had had. And then it had hit her.
I don’t want to be the friends of those jerks. I don’t want to have to do what it takes to be popular, to stab in the back those who wish to be friends. I don’t even like 90% of the people who are popular, I like the people who became my friends because they like me. I’m probably not going to see any of these people after I graduate, why should I let their opinions and taunts affect me if I don’t care about them.
So she had stopped caring, had stopped listening to what the populars had to say. Their opinions, their sneers ceased to have any power over her, and the mind set she had had spread to her friends. It had been incredibly liberating, suddenly they could do whatever they wanted, no matter how dorky or embarrassing and the populars could do nothing about it. She and her friends had even done the Fusion Dance for fun in plain view of anyone who had cared to watch and hadn’t cared a wit.
It was, and is, so easy. Just don’t give a damn about Them and They have no power over you. The only ones that matter are the ones closest to you, the ones you do care about. Only their opinions matter because only they have your best interests at heart and believe that you have their best interests at heart in return. Armina cinched the khaki vest over her already flat chest and pulled her backpack on, then grimaced at the weight.
“Um, excuse me? Is there any place where I can sell my school books? I don’t need them any more and they’re heavy!” She asked over her shoulder. The assembled crowd looked and blinked at her. The red-head ‘humphed’ and snubbed her, the brunette girl and black haired boy went back to having their balls made and picking out their stuff. The Professor cocked his head and looked at her in confusion.
“Come to think of it, you really aren’t supposed to have your backpack with you. Theoretically the only things that come with you are the clothes you wear. How did it happen that not only do you have your backpack, but your laptop computer as well?”
“I had just come home from my last class and I still had my backpack on when I checked my email. And since my laptop is a laptop, I had it in my lap when I clicked the link. That’s the only thing I can think of.” Armina offered.
“Huh, makes sense I guess. Well anyway, there are bookstores and pawnshops here that you can sell unneeded items at, but since you are a new Trainer you won’t need money for a while. You have a set amount of credit to help you get on your feet. It is generous, but still finite, so spend it wisely. I’d recommend food, a shelter of some sort, survival gear and durable spare clothes. Entertainment and accessory items can wait until you are financially stable with a set source of income.” The professor looked very sure about that and Armina didn’t blame him. What he had suggested only made sense after all.
“Alright, I’ll do that. But I don’t suppose you have a city map of some sort, do you? I’d enjoy knowing where exactly these stores are so I don’t needlessly explore the entire city.” The professor smiled at her and dug through his coat pocket and handed her a slightly battered map
“Feel free to keep it, I have no more need of it.” He said. When she looked up to meet his eyes, she saw a look of strong approval. “Nice speech by the way.”
“Thanks” So, he had been at the bottom as well, and now had a position of some authority, huh? Things were starting to look up. Now, to check on Heero and then get herself geared out.
And what about Armina? I want to thank her, she’s done a lot for me and she didn’t need to. She is not strong at all, anyone could see that, but she half-carried me here the entire way. She could have left me there, she could have gone for help and left some one else take care of me. She didn’t, she claimed that she was responsible. How the hell could she have avoided falling on me? She just came into this world, she must have been extremely disoriented. There was no way she could have adjusted her fall. It wasn’t her fault that I got hurt. If it was anyone’s it was mine. I could have gotten out of her way.
Except that that might have let her get injured instead, without Heero’s body to cushion her fall. Would I have tended to her the way she did me? It was painful to realize that he would probably not have been so kind. I owe her dammit all!
He sighed and stared at his blanket covered feet, grimacing at the bulky cast on his leg. I hope she comes back, I have to- What? What did he have to do? What did he want to do? I want to go with her, I want to help her and spend more time with her. I enjoyed talking to her, I think we get along fairly well for a Trainer and a Bishonen. I like her company. His subconscious was nudging up an idea that he was rather uncomfortable about contemplating. Everything he wanted to do fell under the category of Companion Bishonen. A Captured Bishonen. Do I really want to be caught? To be her first Bishonen? Half of him was eagerly crying yes, he did, while the rest of him gasped in horror at the very thought. How could he want to be caught? Hadn’t his childhood been filled with horror stories of what happened to gundam pilot Bishonen who were caught? Abuse, rape, neglect, ill and inexpert care, even abandonment as the Trainer realized that gundam pilots were not particularly strong, these stories had filled his young ears and his nightmares. He had been painfully aware that such a fate might befall him as he had left the Village.
But Armina wouldn’t do that, I know it. But how could he be so sure? He had only just met her today after all.
The memory of her yelling at the staff of the hospital drifted to the fore of his mind, followed by the memory of her binding his leg, then offering her shoulder. No, she would never hurt me. Another memory, her tart reply to his distrust. Okay, she won’t hurt me bad. I’ll have to make sure that she doesn’t get a mallet or a tessen though.
Heero started as he realized the tone of that last thought. He had decided, he wanted to be her first Bishonen. Huh, I wanted to explore after all, get out of that dinky Village. If she doesn’t come to visit me, I think I’ll just go track her down and make her catch me-
“Oh, good, you’re still here. Looks like Tokio-sama kept her word.” Those cheerful words said suddenly out of nowhere caused Heero to yelp and jump in surprise. Armina stared at him in equal surprise at his reaction. He glared at her, she blinked then glared right back. After all, she hadn’t meant to startle him. Then her lips twitched, and he chocked slightly. They both dissolved into giggles at the incident after that.
“Sorry,” she gasped, “didn’t mean to scare you, I was just in a rush because I do not trust that nurse to keep her word.”
“With good reason,” Heero replied with a grin, “she kept trying to ‘convince’ me to ask her to catch me.” He grimaced, “Not that there was a chance of that, she was a bit too much like Relena for my peace of mind, vain and utterly convinced that her feminine wiles can get her anything.” Then he grinned, he was about to pay her back for making him jump a moment ago. “So, you got your Bish-balls right? What are you waiting for?”
Armina blinked “Waiting for what? Huh?”
“Aren’t you going to catch me?”
“Catch y- but you said you didn’t want to be caught!”
“Can’t a Bish change his mind if he meets a Trainer he likes?”
“Likes? Me?!? But don’t you-? Wouldn’t you like-? Shouldn’t you-? I- I-? I don’t understand.” She finished weakly wandering over to a chair and sinking into it. She looked very confused. Mission accomplished.
“What’s to understand? I want you to catch me, I want you to be my Trainer. I like you and I trust you to be good Trainer. I think we’ll work well together. I have a feeling you’d even let me go if I wanted to leave.”
“Of course I would, I’m no slave master to force someone to do something he or she really does not want to do. If you wanted out, I’d let you out, even if you were the only Bish I had. I’d rather go home then keep someone against his will!” That was said so forcefully that Heero had no choice but to believe her. And it touched him, truly. Here was someone who was so moral, so conscientious that she would rather go back to whatever dreary world she had come from than be a slave driver like the other Trainers. I was right about her.
“Good,” was all he said in response. “So, what are you waiting for?” he repeated with a grin. She blinked, then grinned back. Wisely, she didn’t verbally reply this time, merely picked out a ball from the right pocket of her vest. It was tiny, about the size of a marble. That can’t be right. All of a sudden it grew to about the size of a tennis ball. He blinked in surprise, she just acted as if it was expected. She tapped his arm before he could voice a second opinion. He was sucked inside.
Disclaimer: to disclaim or not to disclaim, that is the question. To follow in the footsteps of Black Dragon6 or to go upon a route of my own?
*~*~*
Armina let out an exasperated sigh and massaged her throbbing temples. What was wrong with these people? What about her story was so hard for the doctors to understand? She had entered this world about ten feet above the ground, above a Heero Yuy to be precise, she had landed on him hard enough to break his leg and she felt a little responsible for his injury. So she had drug him here, where he could get the medical attention he needed, but she was not going to capture him. Nor was she going to allow anyone else to catch him.Heero did not want to be caught. He wouldn’t even be facing the threat of capture if it wasn’t for her. So she was going to protect him from the other Trainers who only saw him as an un-captured Bish that they could get their grubby mitts on. What was so hard to understand about that?
“For the last time: no I don’t want him, no you may not have him and no, I won’t leave for Orientation until I get your solemn oath that aside from setting his leg and feeding him, you’ll leave him alone!” That last was all but shouted as Armina glared fiercely at the nurse in charge of Heero. The nurse’s brow wrinkled.
“I don’t see why you have to be so possessive. A lot of people would like a Heero and-“ The uber-blonde nurse got interrupted
“That’s just my point! A lot of people do want Heero but he doesn’t want to be caught! The only reason he’s here is because I hurt him and I couldn’t help him to a Bish Village! So leave him alone!”
“If he didn’t want to be caught then what was he doing along the road where you found him?” All that hair dye must have seeped through her skull and killed her brain cells. She can’t be held accountable for her stupidity. Armina recited to herself as she tried to lower her blood pressure.
“He wasn’t by the road, as I said before, he was in the forest, as I also said before. I have recently entered this world, and I entered it in mid-air. I fell on him and broke his leg. As a moral human being I could not leave him there, I had to make sure he was given proper medical attention and since I was told, by him, that Trainers may not enter Bish Villages, I had to bring him to a Trainer Village. That is why he is here, not because he wants to be captured, but because he needs help. Do you understand?” Armina recited carefully and slowly. Maybe now it would get through-
“But any Bishonen that comes to a Trainer Village wants to be captured. What other reason would he have for coming here?” The nurse looked genuinely confused. Armina was getting a genuine migraine. Just as Armina was inhaling to scream in frustration, salvation with an IQ appeared.
“I’ll handle this, you see to the comfort of the patient.” A woman with authority said to the nurse after giving Armina a look of sympathy. The blonde nodded and sauntered back to Heero’s room. The new woman then looked Armina over, gauging her.
Armina returned the favor, and liked what she saw. Unlike the nurse, this woman was dressed practically, with t-shirt, sneakers, and jeans belted close by a broad belt from which a number of things hung. Her hair was held back in a no-nonsense ponytail and her eyes held a patient, intelligent look. All of this made for a competent air. Armina felt her headache beginning to ebb as it looked like she was going to be believed at last.
“Hi, my name’s Armina. May I ask your name?”
“Tokio, or Tokio-sama, as some people insist. I helped make this place so I guess that’s why people do insist on the ‘sama‘. I’ve heard a number of things about you already and, knowing the gossip vine, I’m sure none of it’s true.” A quirked brow invited explanation.
“That depends on what you’ve heard. If you’ve heard that I’m a stubborn bitch who will demand the answer I want, then that’s correct. If you’ve heard that I’m being utterly unreasonable, then that’s false. I don’t think that leaving Heero alone and free is unreasonable. If these people lived without him yesterday, then they can live without him today and tomorrow and how ever many day’s he stays here until he’s healed. And if it’s required that I stay here, in his room even, to make sure he stays free, I’ll do it!” Armina glared defiantly at Tokio-sama, “It’s my fault he’s in a Trainer Village in the first place.”
“They were right, you are a weird one. But that’s fine, not many people see the Bishies as people after all.”
“They are people, Heero is at the very least! He acts nothing like the Heero in the show, he acts like a completely unique individual.” ‘Mina protested.
“I know that they are, I helped design this world, mind. And I agree with you, that this Heero should be left alone if that’s what he wants. There is a protocol that if a Bish comes to a Trainer Village looking for help then that Bish is sacrosanct and untouchable. This Heero obviously comes under that heading and must therefore receive the aid he needs and that’s all. If he changes his mind and wishes to be captured and says as much, that would be one thing, but currently…” Tokio-sama shrugged. “I’ll fill out the paper work saying that he’s an emissary-for-aid and is granted immunity. Now, if I do that will you go to orientation?”
“Sure, now that I know Heero won’t be caught if I leave.” Armina said with a relieved smile.
“Good, now come along, the Orientation building is next door. Convenient, ne?”
~*~*~
“So that’s it folks,” the Orientation professor said, “three miles, 48 hours, no Chibi’s without permission. Got that?” The class of four, including Armina, nodded.The professor had done a good job getting the basics across; the Chibi, San, Sama stages, the time and distance limits that you could be separated from your captured Bishies, and other warnings like the Bish territories. He hadn’t gone over other things though, like the emissary-for-aid thing. I bet that there are a lot of rules that exist but that he can’t go over, not if he wants to keep the class awake. As if he had read her mind, the professor started to hand out booklets
“There are a lot of other things that you don’t necessarily need to know right now, but should look into for the future. Those things are covered in here; other rules and codes of conduct, basic how-to’s for situations that you might find yourself in, like if your Bishies decide to mate and you find yourself in the position of breeder,”
Armina looked up at that and narrowed her eyes. Mate? Breeder? Those were animal breeding terms! You don’t hold intelligent conversations with animals! You do with people, and I may not be the smartest girl in the world but I still held an intelligent conversation with Heero!
The professor continued, oblivious to Armina’s silent protests, “and what you should do if you find yourself the expectant parent of a Half-Bish.”
That caught the attention of the entire class.
“Half-Bish?” Asked a young brunette girl at the back of the class, “Like, half Trainer, half Bish?” the professor nodded.
“You mean we’re compatible with them?!” a black haired boy gaped in obvious shock.
“Indeed we are. The revered Lady Silver Seishi-sama and revered lady Tokio-sama decided that it would be a good idea. Many people want to make a family with the one he or she loves and if that loved one is a Bish, how cruel would it be to not have a child by that loved one?” the professor then sighed, “Unfortunately, that brings other problems, like prejudice and the resultant cruelty towards Half-Bish. Many Trainers don’t understand Half-Bish and most full Bishies don’t accept the Half-Bish.”
Armina thought on that, “Like the so called ‘Oreos’ back in the other world, half African, half Caucasian. Those people got a lot of grief at first as well.”
The professor nodded. “And for as little reason. The children from two different races are often the result of love. Why shouldn’t such children be as accepted as the emotion itself? And on that thought, it’s time for the next part of orientation: getting your gear.” The professor rose and gestured for the four new Trainers to follow him into the next room and, intrigued, they did so.
In that room was a table full of… clothing? Belts, vests, and hats adorned the surface. Behind that table was a half-wall which opened into what looked like a pharmaceutical lab with all sorts of various equipment. There was a young man in some sort of uniform behind the table while behind the half wall was a middle aged woman in different kind of uniform, smiling benignly out at everyone.
“Alright minna-“ the professor began. Armina restrained the urge to respond to her nickname. “-time for you to get your Bish-balls. We’ll have to draw your blood to make your own, personal balls. What we get now will be good for around one hundred balls. When, or even if, you use that many, you’ll have to go to an Orientation building like this one to give some more blood for another batch.” The professor blinked and smiled, “Well, who’s first?”
No one moved. Armina looked at her fellow newbies with a slight touch of scorn, walked up to the woman behind the half-wall who held an empty, capped syringe and held out her arm. The woman smiled approvingly at her, swabbed her arm at the inner elbow with an alcohol wipe and uncapped the syringe. Armina temporarily became fascinated with the clock above the door on the opposite wall. She felt a slight pain, as if she had gotten a splinter while gardening, then a pressure.
“Alright, you’re all done.” The very motherly-acting woman said with a pat. Armina looked at her arm, where a small cotton ball was taped to her inner elbow over a vein. That must have been the pressure. “Go ahead and pick out your supplies, by the time you’re done with that, your balls should be ready.”
“Thank you.” Armina replied, giving the woman a half bow, Japanese style. The woman beamed again before turning to the next vic- er, Trainer, the black haired boy who looked miffed that a mere female had been braver than he. ‘Mina ignored him and turned to the table and the young man behind it. “So, what’s all this stuff for?”
“Well, we have your common Bish-ball belt, your Bish-ball vest and your Trainer pack.” He said, lifting up an empty backpack that had been hidden under the table. “We also have a complementary Trainer hat, new this year, perfect for keeping the sun and rain outta your eyes on those long treks between cities-“ he was interrupted by an exclamation of dismay.
“What? You mean we have to walk everywhere?” cried out the final new Trainer, a long-haired red-headed girl of probably 16 to 17 years of age. Her clothing looked very fashionable, which caused ‘Mina to instinctively dislike her, having been at the bottom of the social pyramid almost all her life.
“Well, yes.” The man answered, a little baffled by her behavior. “The only vehicles are in the hands of emergency officials, or the public trains. On rare occasions, when we get someone with a physical disability, that person is given a motor vehicle, but everyone else walks. Cuts down on congestion and pollution, we are trying to create a better, cleaner world here after all.” That last bit was said with some understandable pride. The red-head looked horrified.
“You don’t expect me to, to walk everywhere do you? I’ll get my clothes all dusty and-“
“Oh, can it already!” ‘Mina snapped, her patience exhausted and then some. “In case you haven’t noticed, no one here cares about you personal crisis, which isn’t one in the first place. No one cares about your clothes, you status or you for that matter if you continue carrying on like that!” The girl looked utterly shocked, as if she had never expected to be addressed in such a fashion. Spoiled little social princess-bitch. Probably queen of her school, expecting everyone to lay down in front of her so she can walk on them and not get her newly painted toe nails scuffed.
“If you don’t like the way things are run here and the fact that you really don’t matter all the much you can just say the word and go home, didn’t you hear that? Or were you waiting for the rest of us to take your notes and do your thinking so you could remain queen of the campus with out working or sweating a minute? Well guess what sweety, you’re going to have to do your own work from now on and sink or swim by your own effort, just like the real world. No one is going to let you sleep your way to the top here, and I say it’s about damn time that a place like this came about!”
While the uber-popular red-head gaped like a landed fish from being spoken to in such a fashion, ‘Mina turned to the man by the table, who was also looking a little stunned at what had just happened. In fact, everyone in the room looked stunned at that outburst, as if they had never expected the nearly ugly, glasses-bearing, clearly unpopular girl to have spine enough to snap back at the popular crowd. Armina didn’t care what they thought, she never had.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like one of those vests, and a cap please.” She said, in a much more polite and deferential tone to the young man by the table.
“Uuhh, what? Oh, yeah, okay..” he responded, as he woodenly handed her the requested items. ‘Mina took them and went over to a full size mirror in a corner to put them on. She stared at her reflection and her reflection stared back.
A tall, thin, plain, young woman stood before her in the mirror, the face too long, the nose too large, the jaw too heavy for anything like beauty or even mere prettiness to be held there. The fact that her features were even and her eyes large, soft and filled with a general friendliness kept her from being truly ugly. Then there was her hair, unruly but the only thing about her that could be called beautiful, composed of blonde, red, brown and even a little black hair, its diverse hues made it lovely. Not that it saved her. She was too skinny, breasts too small, hips too narrow, legs too scrawny even if they were fashionably long. No, no beauty, or prettiness, could ever be found in her form, a thing she had known for how long?
Fifth grade? Fourth even? Doesn’t matter, I was unpopular before I even knew what unpopularity was. And that had hurt, at one time, being the scapegoat, the joke butt, the one that everyone teased. It hadn’t been until high school that she had found salvation. She had moved, remaining unpopular, but had lost the few friends she had had. And then it had hit her.
I don’t want to be the friends of those jerks. I don’t want to have to do what it takes to be popular, to stab in the back those who wish to be friends. I don’t even like 90% of the people who are popular, I like the people who became my friends because they like me. I’m probably not going to see any of these people after I graduate, why should I let their opinions and taunts affect me if I don’t care about them.
So she had stopped caring, had stopped listening to what the populars had to say. Their opinions, their sneers ceased to have any power over her, and the mind set she had had spread to her friends. It had been incredibly liberating, suddenly they could do whatever they wanted, no matter how dorky or embarrassing and the populars could do nothing about it. She and her friends had even done the Fusion Dance for fun in plain view of anyone who had cared to watch and hadn’t cared a wit.
It was, and is, so easy. Just don’t give a damn about Them and They have no power over you. The only ones that matter are the ones closest to you, the ones you do care about. Only their opinions matter because only they have your best interests at heart and believe that you have their best interests at heart in return. Armina cinched the khaki vest over her already flat chest and pulled her backpack on, then grimaced at the weight.
“Um, excuse me? Is there any place where I can sell my school books? I don’t need them any more and they’re heavy!” She asked over her shoulder. The assembled crowd looked and blinked at her. The red-head ‘humphed’ and snubbed her, the brunette girl and black haired boy went back to having their balls made and picking out their stuff. The Professor cocked his head and looked at her in confusion.
“Come to think of it, you really aren’t supposed to have your backpack with you. Theoretically the only things that come with you are the clothes you wear. How did it happen that not only do you have your backpack, but your laptop computer as well?”
“I had just come home from my last class and I still had my backpack on when I checked my email. And since my laptop is a laptop, I had it in my lap when I clicked the link. That’s the only thing I can think of.” Armina offered.
“Huh, makes sense I guess. Well anyway, there are bookstores and pawnshops here that you can sell unneeded items at, but since you are a new Trainer you won’t need money for a while. You have a set amount of credit to help you get on your feet. It is generous, but still finite, so spend it wisely. I’d recommend food, a shelter of some sort, survival gear and durable spare clothes. Entertainment and accessory items can wait until you are financially stable with a set source of income.” The professor looked very sure about that and Armina didn’t blame him. What he had suggested only made sense after all.
“Alright, I’ll do that. But I don’t suppose you have a city map of some sort, do you? I’d enjoy knowing where exactly these stores are so I don’t needlessly explore the entire city.” The professor smiled at her and dug through his coat pocket and handed her a slightly battered map
“Feel free to keep it, I have no more need of it.” He said. When she looked up to meet his eyes, she saw a look of strong approval. “Nice speech by the way.”
“Thanks” So, he had been at the bottom as well, and now had a position of some authority, huh? Things were starting to look up. Now, to check on Heero and then get herself geared out.
~*~*~
Heero stared at the ceiling of his hospital room, fretted and tried to come to grips with his increasingly confused feelings. He trusted Armina, he had finally learned her name from the nurse who had fussed over him, to keep her word completely now, after that rather loud argument in the hallway outside his room. It was the other people he didn’t trust. Armina couldn’t stay near him the entire time he was bedridden here, and the moment she had left he had started sweating. The fact that Tokio-sama had come in and assured him of a kind of diplomatic immunity had reassured him not at all. Tokio-sama was one of the people responsible for the slave system of Bish-balls and Trainers after all, how could he trust her to view him as a person?And what about Armina? I want to thank her, she’s done a lot for me and she didn’t need to. She is not strong at all, anyone could see that, but she half-carried me here the entire way. She could have left me there, she could have gone for help and left some one else take care of me. She didn’t, she claimed that she was responsible. How the hell could she have avoided falling on me? She just came into this world, she must have been extremely disoriented. There was no way she could have adjusted her fall. It wasn’t her fault that I got hurt. If it was anyone’s it was mine. I could have gotten out of her way.
Except that that might have let her get injured instead, without Heero’s body to cushion her fall. Would I have tended to her the way she did me? It was painful to realize that he would probably not have been so kind. I owe her dammit all!
He sighed and stared at his blanket covered feet, grimacing at the bulky cast on his leg. I hope she comes back, I have to- What? What did he have to do? What did he want to do? I want to go with her, I want to help her and spend more time with her. I enjoyed talking to her, I think we get along fairly well for a Trainer and a Bishonen. I like her company. His subconscious was nudging up an idea that he was rather uncomfortable about contemplating. Everything he wanted to do fell under the category of Companion Bishonen. A Captured Bishonen. Do I really want to be caught? To be her first Bishonen? Half of him was eagerly crying yes, he did, while the rest of him gasped in horror at the very thought. How could he want to be caught? Hadn’t his childhood been filled with horror stories of what happened to gundam pilot Bishonen who were caught? Abuse, rape, neglect, ill and inexpert care, even abandonment as the Trainer realized that gundam pilots were not particularly strong, these stories had filled his young ears and his nightmares. He had been painfully aware that such a fate might befall him as he had left the Village.
But Armina wouldn’t do that, I know it. But how could he be so sure? He had only just met her today after all.
The memory of her yelling at the staff of the hospital drifted to the fore of his mind, followed by the memory of her binding his leg, then offering her shoulder. No, she would never hurt me. Another memory, her tart reply to his distrust. Okay, she won’t hurt me bad. I’ll have to make sure that she doesn’t get a mallet or a tessen though.
Heero started as he realized the tone of that last thought. He had decided, he wanted to be her first Bishonen. Huh, I wanted to explore after all, get out of that dinky Village. If she doesn’t come to visit me, I think I’ll just go track her down and make her catch me-
“Oh, good, you’re still here. Looks like Tokio-sama kept her word.” Those cheerful words said suddenly out of nowhere caused Heero to yelp and jump in surprise. Armina stared at him in equal surprise at his reaction. He glared at her, she blinked then glared right back. After all, she hadn’t meant to startle him. Then her lips twitched, and he chocked slightly. They both dissolved into giggles at the incident after that.
“Sorry,” she gasped, “didn’t mean to scare you, I was just in a rush because I do not trust that nurse to keep her word.”
“With good reason,” Heero replied with a grin, “she kept trying to ‘convince’ me to ask her to catch me.” He grimaced, “Not that there was a chance of that, she was a bit too much like Relena for my peace of mind, vain and utterly convinced that her feminine wiles can get her anything.” Then he grinned, he was about to pay her back for making him jump a moment ago. “So, you got your Bish-balls right? What are you waiting for?”
Armina blinked “Waiting for what? Huh?”
“Aren’t you going to catch me?”
“Catch y- but you said you didn’t want to be caught!”
“Can’t a Bish change his mind if he meets a Trainer he likes?”
“Likes? Me?!? But don’t you-? Wouldn’t you like-? Shouldn’t you-? I- I-? I don’t understand.” She finished weakly wandering over to a chair and sinking into it. She looked very confused. Mission accomplished.
“What’s to understand? I want you to catch me, I want you to be my Trainer. I like you and I trust you to be good Trainer. I think we’ll work well together. I have a feeling you’d even let me go if I wanted to leave.”
“Of course I would, I’m no slave master to force someone to do something he or she really does not want to do. If you wanted out, I’d let you out, even if you were the only Bish I had. I’d rather go home then keep someone against his will!” That was said so forcefully that Heero had no choice but to believe her. And it touched him, truly. Here was someone who was so moral, so conscientious that she would rather go back to whatever dreary world she had come from than be a slave driver like the other Trainers. I was right about her.
“Good,” was all he said in response. “So, what are you waiting for?” he repeated with a grin. She blinked, then grinned back. Wisely, she didn’t verbally reply this time, merely picked out a ball from the right pocket of her vest. It was tiny, about the size of a marble. That can’t be right. All of a sudden it grew to about the size of a tennis ball. He blinked in surprise, she just acted as if it was expected. She tapped his arm before he could voice a second opinion. He was sucked inside.
~*~*~
A.N: Okay, the second chapter is done. I apologize to any red-heads who may have been offended by this chapter, but not to anyone else. If you were offended by my rant, then maybe you should double-check the way you treat other people. And yes, that rant was a long time in coming, Otaku's rarely rank high in the social scale. I may not have been bullied as much as other people, but that is only because I didn't let myself get bullied. There's some advice for others who may be in a similar situation: don't let verbal taunts get to you and they lose their power. And if you are being physically bullied, GET HELP! It's the job of teachers, councilors, and any other official on a school campus to see to the well being of the students. They have seen bullying before, they will believe you. And if you feel you can't trust the school staff, Call the Police! Bullying can count as torture and harassment, which is a legal offense. And if you think I'm over-reacting, take a look at the suicide ratio's and then tell me I'm over-reacting. But, no, I didn't lose a friend, my friends could have lost me if they hadn't been there for me. That's why I'm saying this here and now.Okay, I'm done preaching. (sweatdrop)