|An Angelic Quest
Author: Shadow of a Fallen Angel PM
If Angelic Layer could bring a mother and daughter together again, could it possibly reunite two friends who havent seen each other in eight years? Read to find out. All OC fic. Consider it like a second series to Angelic Layer. Rated for minor violence.Rated: Fiction T - English - Friendship/Romance - Chapters: 3 - Words: 2,310 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 8 - Follows: 7 - Updated: 11-02-10 - Published: 11-26-09 - id: 5538082
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: So, I'm bringing to you now a shiny new fic, that's been swimming around in my head for a while.
I want to say that there will be mention of the original cast of Angelic Layer, but they won't really be present at all, except for maybe "wiggly icchan"
Ayumi ran after the moving van, as fast as her eight-year-old legs could carry her. Tears were streaming freely down her cheeks, not that she really noticed. She had a huge smile plastered on her face, despite her current state of unhappiness.
A stray rock, at the end of the gravel driveway she was running along, tripped her up. Despite grazing her hands and knees heavily, she got up and kept running, stopping when the moving van reached the gate.
Ayumi raised a bloody hand and waved, hoping that the boy inside the van would be able to see her.
Said boy stuck his head out of the open window "Ayumi!" He called, his jet black hair ruffling in the breeze as the truck began to move again. "Write to me!" He called.
"I…I will!" She called back with the loudest voice she could muster. The boy waved to her one more time before sticking his head back inside the window. Ayumi walked back to her awaiting mother who clucked her tongue disapprovingly at the blood that was running down her daughter's legs and palms. "Come on Ayumi." She said gently, taking her daughter's wrist. "We'd better get you home and all cleaned up."
Ayumi walked wrist-in-hand with her mother, but she couldn't help checking back over her shoulder and watching the moving van, and her best childhood friend, out of sight.
"Even if I don't write to him," Ayumi said to her mother over dinner that night, "I'm gonna see him again. I can just tell." Ayumi put down the doll whose hair she had been combing, and picked up her fork.
Short, I know…but prologues, or at least my prologues, usually are. More to come I promise.