FLCL Fan Fiction ❯ ~* Electric Dreams *~ ❯ Strike One%F^riK#ri% ( Chapter 1 )

 

STRIKE ONE

 

 

Clank...Clank...Clank...Clank...

 

The metal bat banged against the long aluminum pole of the fence over and over again. It was dark outside by now, and he was the last of them to leave the citrus dust of the baseball diamond.

He had no reason to go home anyway.

 

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He was leaving for America in about three months, following in the footsteps of his older brother, who had recently broken from baseball to spend more time with his family. That was all he had promised to him for now…baseball, that is, and a one shot migration to America, the land of the free and the joyful. Everyone wanted to go to America, he just wanted to leave and go anywhere… but here.

His father, who had never expected much out of any of his sons, was as remote in mind as Pluto is to Mercury, never caring, never involved. So what was he to do? He never had a mother figure, and he urged for one ever so badly. He just wanted a feminine figure to hold him when he had no where run, to cater to him after a long day in school or practice, to grab him and force his head so close to her soft, motherly breasts, that through his ear he can hear her blood being pumped through her very veins, and for so long that his head may become moist with what may have been sweat, but if you asked him, it would have been nothing more than her own sweet natural nectar. That's what he wanted… and with that, he could have stayed where he was… stayed where he was, in that lonely boring town for nothing short of an eternity.

“It's time to move on,” Naota thought. He was now determined to escape, the slackened clench of the Metal Mechanica's carcinogenic steam that ushered from the town's center. He was now determined to break the barrier of being born and dying in this small town as if there was nothing else outside this place.

 

Naota was ready to live.

 

He turned, and looked towards his murky gray bags that lay against the fields rustic gates. Thump. He had let the baseball bat slip through his fingers in thought, and it had fallen to the floor. It seemed to be about ten minutes of him standing there thinking about nothing, but it was a mere second or two.

He mashed his baseball cap onto his head, and he felt the outsole of the cap graze his scalp. His hair was trimmed short at the top, and shaved to its absolute zero on its sides. Naota quickly shoved his steel bat into his bag; his dusty baseball cleats were removed from his feet and replaced with the regulars, before he had zipped the bag closed. He had almost forgotten that it was going to be a bit chilly that summer night, before he had shuffled back into his bag, only to find his sky blue hoodie.

He smiled. Nothing made him happier, than to slide his hoodie over his hair, down his chest, all the way to his waist. The whole motion to him seemed milky almost. The ultimate comfort, he called it. Still grinning, he leaned on the gate to snatch up his bags, only to toss them over his shoulder, with a force that almost made him lose his composure. He was getting so strong, signs of him becoming a man.

 

Honk! Honk! Bonnk!! A car horn sounded. It was Ninamori, Naota's best friend.

 

“Naota, hurry my dad will kill me if I don't make it home to eat dinner with him and Kowanishi Konami, I told you to be ready!”

She threw her dark hair back in angst and impatience.

 

“I'm coming! I swear I'm sorry!” Naota yelled from across the field. He had circled around to the passenger side of the car, and quickly jumped in, tossing his bags in the back.

 

“Damn, Naota. Second time this fucking week,” Ninamori shouted, scolding Naota as she drove them home.

 

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