Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Home Again, Takuya Returns: Yalanda's Story ❯ On our way to Japan ( Chapter 1 )

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Home Again, Takuya Returns: Yalanda's Story
By YaYa


Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon Frontier. It belongs to
Akiyosh Hongo and Toei Animation.

Chapter 1 On our way to Japan

My name is Yalanda and I'm gonna live in Japan with my
mom.
She's a business woman who travels a lot. She's been to
Japan on a business trip.
She had just been offered
a job at a company called Hushodo Electronics and she
excepted right away. She really wants to live in Japan and so
do I. I have long, black hair that hangs down a little below
the
middle of my back, brown eyes, a-not too big-nose and a
nice
smile from what my mom says, but I'm not bad looking. I'm
not fat, but I'm not skinny either. Kinda in the middle. I wear
glasses, too. My mom's slim and very pretty. She says I'm
pretty, but I don't believe her. Anyway, we're packing for our
trip to Japan now."Wow," I say." We're going to Japan.
Excited?" "Yes," she answers."I am." I'm helping her pack
her
clothes and labeling them. We already had our stuff packed
in
cartons and that had only taken us 3 1/2-4 hours. I can hear
the movers hushed voices downstairs. My clothes are
already
packed and in the moving van. It takes us two hours to pack
her clothes. We've been packing stuff ever since this
morning
so I know we're exhausted. I wipe the sweat off of my
forehead with the back of my hand. Mom checks the closet
for
anything we may have missed. The closet is a walk-in. "Is
that
it?" I ask."Yep," she replies."That's it." I sigh in relief. Mom
comes
over and bends over slightly putting her hands on one side
of
the box."Help me with this one," she says. I walk to her left
side and we push the box of the room and to the top of the
staircase. We do that with other boxes. The movers come up
the steps and take the other boxes to the van for us. I run
down the stairs and Mom comes down after me. The living
room is bare. So's the kitchen. Were finally finished."Were
done!" I cry, happily. "And it only took us 19 hours!" Mom
laughs. "It didn't take us that long." What time is it?"I ask.
Mom looks at her watch. "It's five minutes after five," she
answers. We grab our jackets. I glance outside the window
and see a house salesman outside in front of the house with
a
man and woman. "I called a cab," Mom announces putting
her
cell phone in her purse."Theyll be here in 15 minutes."
"Great," I say. Mom heads outside to deal with the salesman.
I
follow her. She hands him the keys to the house. 15 minutes
later, the taxi cab arrives. We get in. "To the airport," Mom
says to the driver. He nods. I look out my side of the cab as
we drive off. "Bye, House," I murmur as it disappears from
view. Mom puts an arm around me and I lean against her
shoulder. "Just think," she says softly."We'll be living in an
entirely different country. "New rules, a new culture, a new
house, a new job, a new life." I, suddenly, feel horrible. I'll
be
going to a new school,too, I realize. What if I don't grasp the
language? What if I don't make any new friends? It was hard
leaving my old ones. I promised to e-mail them often. All
kinds
of questions buzz through my brain, but I don't have time to
ask my mom them because we arrive at the airport. The ride
there seemed fast. Mom pays the man and we get out. I've
seen the airport as we passed by it on our way somewhere,
but I've never been in it. We go in and walk up the desk. I
look
around. People are rushing by with suitcases, sitting on
benches. Flight announcements blare from the speakers. I,
suddenly, get lost in thought. Those nagging questions are
back. "Yalanda," Mom says, startling my thoughts-----and
me.
She has two tickets in her hand. She hands me one. Hold
onto this, she says. "You'll need it to get onto the airplane."
"Are we riding first class?" I ask. "No, coach," my mother
answers. We walk over to a bench and sit down. I became
scared. This is my first time flying in an airplane. Horrible
images of planes crash-landing into buildings and trees flash
into my mind.Mom, I say, truly terrified of what I imagined.
"Hmmm?" is her reply. "I don't want to fly on the airplane,"I
say. "Why not?" she asks. "I'm scared," I confess. Mom
wraps
her arms around me and pulls me to her. Hot tears roll down
my face. She wipes them away."Don't be afraid," she
whispers in my ear."You'll be all right. I'm with you." I nod
and
sniff."Flight 123 to Tokyo, Japan now boarding at Gate 7,"
an
announcer says. "That's us," Mom says, getting up. I get up,
too, and follow her, clutching my ticket tightly in my hand.
We
walk to a metal detector and step through it. It doesnt beep
as we go through. Good thing my glasses arent made out of
metal. I glance at a tall, thin security guard. He smiles at me.
Mom and I walk to Gate 7. A thin woman checks our tickets.
Then we board the plane. We walk pass first class. The seats
looks comfortable. I wish we were riding here instead of
coach, I think. We walk into coach. A nice, thin stewardess
checks our tickets for seats. "F1 and F2," she says. She leads
us to them. I sit in a seat near the window. Mom sits next to
me. I lean back in my seat. A thin man with short, black hair
sits next to my mom. He glances at me and smiles. I smile
slightly. I realize that I'm staring and turn my head to my
window. A stewardess makes a few announcement on
oxygen
masks, food trays, and other things. The "Fasten Your
Seatbelt" sign lights up. I fasten my seatbelt as the plane
starts to move.

T.B.C.