Saber Marionette Fan Fiction ❯ Innocence ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )

Innocence
A SMJ Fan Fic
by
Lady Aoi

Summary: Ever wonder how Otaru and Hanagata first met? Of course you
don't. But
humor me. (Takes place aproximately ten years before the events of
SMJ) [NON YAOI!]
Rating: G
Disclaimer: They aren't mine and neither is the story. The story was
created by hot
chocolate consumed very early in the morning. Mhh, cocoa-sama...
Lady Aoi's Notes: ... even I get tired of writing slash sometimes.
Think of this as the
innocence side of that famous Blakeian equation ^_~v.

~*~*~*~*~*~

There was nothing to do about it. He had to leave. The girl with the
blue hair was
calling him again.

"Sempai!!"

And yet, the tall, blonde man stood looking at him, the tears budding
like roses in
the corners of his eyes and sliding down his face like a shower of
translucent petals.

"You're really going to do it then?" Otaru could almost hear the
fatigue and....
something else as it caught in the man's throat. "You're really going
to choose her over
me? After all we've been through together?"

"Sempai!"

"I..." Otaru shook his head. "Gomen nasai, but I -- I gotta go --!"

"Shinyuu!" The blonde cried as Otaru ran towards the girl. "You can't
do this to
me! Shinyuu! Shinyuu!!"

"Gahh!"

~*~
Otaru Mamiya sat up quickly, nearly banging his head on the bunk
above him. A
pair of tired, but nonetheless startled brown eyes quickly scanned
the room as a slender
dark hand smoothed bleached bangs out of their path. As on all nights
in which this
peculiar dream visited him, only the dingy room lit by the snow-
brightened light through
its even filthier window and rows of sleeping children met his gaze.

"Mhh," Otaru sleepily murmured as he shifted his gaze to the driving
snow beyond
the orphanage's window. "That weird dream again...."

~*~

"Young master, please!"

"I said NO, PINSUKE!"

Hanagata Mitsurugi wrapped his arms around his teddy bear and buried
his chin
into its belly as he wiggled deeper into his nest of quilts. His bear
and bed were warm and
toasty and smelled, like the rest of his room, faintly of jasmine, in
contrast to the raging
snowstorm outside which he knew was cold and would smell like snow,
not flowers.

"B--but young master! Your father will be furious if you are late to
your first day
of school!!"

But not even the threat of punishment at the hands of his large and
domineering
father (which was usually induce the young Hanagata to do almost
anything) was enough
to rouse the indolent eight-year-old from his snowy
contemplation. "Humph! I don't get
why I have to go to some crummy old public school anyway! You won't
be there, Nursie
won't be there, and I just don't get it!!" Despite being the room's
sole occupant, Hanagata
decided his point would be best emphasized by sticking his lower lip
out. "It's not like
we're poor like all those *other* boys who can't afford tutors!! So
why do I have to go?!"

"Because your father says you need to learn about people who aren't
like you,
Mitsurugi-sama. So you can grow up with an understanding of everyone
Hanagata
Enterprises serves, from all walks of life!! From working class men
to the poorest of the
poor."

"So let them all get jobs! I'm sleepy!"

"But young master! Think of it! All the different ways of life, all
the different boys,
some of whom could be good friends for your whole life. Doesn't that
sound fun?"

"No."

"Young master," forgetting for a moment that he was alone in the
hallway,
Pinsuke drew slightly away from the door and rested a hand upon his
chest. "Would it
surprise you to learn that I, your faithful servant and friend
Pinsuke, was from one of the
lower classes?"

"Snore!"

"And that I met your clever father when I was about your age in the
very same
public school you are about to attend today?"

"Too bad he didn't beat you up a lot! Maybe then you'd be less
boring."

Pinsuke's face twitched painfully with the memory. "Young master!"

~He beat me up every day, you little brat! And once, when the head
master wasn't
looking, he even ran my underwear up the flag poll... with me still
in it. And so help me, if
you don't come out of that room in ten seconds, I'll come in there
and give you a
demonstration!~

He sighed and leaned his forhead against the door. "Young master,
please..."
Heavens, how this next entreaty hurt one's pride. "If you open your
door promptly and
come out like a good young man I'll -- I'll personally take you to --
to get a Smiling
Shirataki Kid's Meal as soon as school is over."

Inside his room, Mitsurugi interestedly turned his head away from the
window.

"And can we go sledding in the park later on?"

"Yes."

"And will you let me drive Daddy's motor palanquin?"

"You know I can't do that, Mitsurugi-sama! He'd have my hide!"

"Well then, I'm sorry, but the deal is off!"

"Gyahh!!" Pinsuke cried, feeling the one nerve he still decidedly
posessed snap in
fifteen distinct and painful pieces. He was almost ready to kick down
the child's door
down and drag him out by the seat of his satin pants, when a soft and
electronically-tinged
feminine voice piped up behind him.

"Is Mitsurugi-sama disobedient, master Pinsuke?"
With an exasperated sigh, the Hanagata family's retainer turned to
find himself face
to face with the frail five foot one form of Nursie, the nurse maid
marionette Mitsurugi
had recieved sometime in the second week of his young life. "Oh, it's
you, Nursie," he
sighed as he removed his glasses to wipe the sweat from his
eyes. "Yes, our young master
is being very disobedient this morning and IF HE ISN'T CAREFUL, I
FEAR HIS
FATHER WILL PUNISH HIM FOR BEING LATE TO SCHOOL!!"

"And if you yell at me again, I shall never speak to you again,
Pinsuke! Never
never never never never never never never never!!"

Pinsuke reasoned that his dissapointment should such a threat be
carried out would
not even occupy the smallest measurement of time.

"Isn't he hopeless, Nursie?!" he cried, throwing his hands up into
the air. "I simply
don't know what to do with him anymore."

In response to this statement, however, the brown-haired marionette
simply
walked toward the door and knocked once.

"Go AWAY, PINSUKE!!!"

"Mitsurugi-kun, school begins at 9:30. Fifteen minutes and five point
zero zero
zero eight three seconds remain."

"But I don't wanna go, Nursie!"

"You are required to go to school, Mitsurugi-kun."

"But I'll hate it there! It'll be cold and boring and they won't let
me play with my
toys during the lessons!"

"You are required to go to school, Mitsurugi-kun."

"...Well, if I do, can we play after school is over?"

"If Hanagata-sama authorizes us to do so, yes."

In the silence that followed, Pinsuke pondered sending Nursie to
fetch a crow bar
for use first on the locked bedroom door and then upon his young
master's behind. He
was just about to begin questioning the possiblility of Mitsurugi's
father discovering even
his treasonous thoughts when he heard the small sound of feet padding
towards the
bedroom door. Seconds later, the door itself swung open to reveal a
fully uniformed
Mitsurugi, complete with a large sack of toys thrown over one
shoulder.

"Okay, I'll go," he huffed, shooting Pinsuke a dirty look. "But I'm
only going
`cause you and Daddy are making me! And," he looked hopefully over to
the marionette
nursemaid. "And because Nursie said we'd play later." As the
marionette looked on,
Hanagata smiled shyly up at her.

"Come, young master," Pinsuke said, placing a hand upon the boy's
shoulder.

"We'll be late for school."

Mitsurugi sighed, shrugged at his nursemaid and then turned to follow
the family
retainer. "Can I drive?"

"What did I say earlier?"

~*~
It was bad enough that the teachers seemed to take a particular and
almost, in
Otaru's opinion, perverse delight in forcing their students to remain
outside in the snow
until the morning bell rang. However, the presence of three large
bullies and their
rock-filled snowballs were making the situation even worse.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't that little bed wetter, Otaru Mamiya."
Otaru bristled at the insult, feeling his bicepts tense with
adrenaline despite the
morning cold. "Aw, get lost, Gan," he snarrled.

"Get lost, Gan!" the insult's target mimiced as two of his cronies
menacingly
aimed their snowballs for him. "Hehe. The little orphan thinks he's
so funny. SHUT UP,
YOU!" he shouted as his two friends burst into mechanical and puzzled
laughter. "That
WAS NOT AN ORDER TO LAUGH!"

"Oh. Gomen, Gan-kun."

"Now see what you did? You made my Super Terror Squad laugh at me!"

"No I didn't! You made `em laugh by giving them a silly order!"

"SHUT UP!!!" Gan shouted, smacking both of his cronies across the
face as they
laughed again. "You wanna say that again, huh, punk?" his eyes
narrowed angerously as
he glared at Otaru. "Or wouldja rather fight me like a real man, huh?"

"Aw, leamme alone." But as Otaru turned to leave, Gan's friends
grabbed him by
the shoulders and spun him back around.

"Whassamatter, baby? Going somewhere?"

Otaru rolled his eyes. "Well, DUH! Away from you bozos!"

Gan's dark eyes widened in surprise. "H--how dare you talk back to
me!" he
stammered, his face flushing with rage. "You little baby! You won't
get away with this!"

Otaru's lips turned upwards in a sneer as he clenched his
fists. "Fine! I'm not afraid
of you, Gan! Or anybody! Bring it on!"

"You have no idea who you're dealin' with, little baby! GET HIM!!"

~*~

From a nearby window, martial arts instructor Soemon Obiichi sighed
and shook
his head. No one could deny that the fight had begun well, and for a
moment he himself
actually believed Mamiya would take the larger boys down. After all,
while the older boys
had layers of hard muscle on their side, they couldn't hold a candle
to the seven-year-old
Mamiya's speed and agility. That counted for something.
Or, at least it should have.
Soemon sighed as the battered child slowly climbed to his feet and
wiped the
trickle of blood from his nose. As the boy made his way into the
school, an icy wind
swirled the snow through the air, and for a moment, young Mamiya
seemed to be the
lonliest thing in the world.

"That's how it should have gone," Soemon whispered, feeling his own
fists clench
slightly. But sadly, his years of experience had taught him that few
things, if anything, ever
worked out as they should.