Old Friends

by WSJ

WSJ: *grins* I'm mostly well-known for writing in the Yu-Gi-Oh and Gundam Wing categories, but I recently got the first six Robotech novels (which took most of my cash, not that I'm complaining.) Reading those... They bring back memories for me. Well, I guess I'll just let you see. Most is explained in the story, and yes, the unnamed girl is supposed to be me.

Disclaimer: No own. No claim to own. Phooey.

()()()()()

The young woman of about fourteen years sat at her desk, several sheets of notebook paper spread out in front of her. She was dressed in jeans and a light blue sweater, her dark blond hair pulled back into a braid, and fuzzy, pom-pommed slippers on her feet. She lifted the pen in her hand to comence writing on a sheet of paper that was already about half-full with her tight chicken-scrall, when a grey cat jumped into her lap.

She chuckled as he made himself at home, and rubbed a hand absently down his back. "Lance, you silly cat, I'm trying to do my report." She glanced back at the assignment sheet, tacked to the bulliten board over her desk. She was supposed to write an essay on something from her childhood that meant a lot to her.

Pursing her lips, she picked up the sheet in front of her to read what she'd written so far.

I remember, years and years ago, when I was six or seven, staying home from school sick. I spent the morning sleeping, then shuffled out to the couch to watch TV. I was flipping through the channels, and came across something called "Toonami". It looked intresting, so I shrugged and watched.

Now, ladies and gents, this was years before the word 'anime' became almost common-place. There was no Pokemon or DragonBall Z to refer back to. A few adults might know what you were talking about if you happened to mention 'Astro Boy', but other then that, Japanime was an unknown. I certainly had no clue what it was about.

That day, I sat there and oogled at a blue-haired bishonen (although at the time I had no concept of the term), a good-looking guy with a mop of dark hair, and a girl with hair that looked for all the world like cinnemon buns. I fell in love with Max Sterling, silently cheered Rick and Lisa into getting together, and sang along with Lynn-Minmei's songs.

The girl chuckled again as she licked the end of her pen and put it to paper.

Robotech. The very first anime that I ever watched. Voltron and Thundercats followed. But soon, I got older, and Robotech, along with Voltron, was stripped from the airwaves in favor of Sailor Moon and Gundam. I matured, beginning to watch such titles as Ranma 1/2, Fushigi Yugi, and Yu-Gi-Oh. I promptly forgot about my brief but passonate love-affair with the world of Macross.

Years passed. Voltron would cross my mind every now and then. Occationally, my mom would make a joke that my love of cats stemmed from my early-age viewing of Thundercats. But hardly ever did I think of Robotech. Until now.

Five days ago I was in a Little Professor Book Shop, looking for the newest Animerica magizine. I browsed through the sci-fi section idly, and then jolted into reality as one book spine, or rather, a line of them, caught my eye. Robotech. I was instantly down on my knees, pulling them off the shelves as if receiving into my arms a ghost from the past. In a way, I was.

My eyes were wide as I took in the covers, staring at Rick Hunter's face again, tracing the outline of the SDF-1. Vague memories drifted through my memory. Bits of plot. Giant warriors. Blue-haired hottie.

At that thought, I flipped through a random novel, and squealed when I encountered the name Max. That was it. Max Sterling. I spent every penny of my money on those novels, and even at that I've only got the first six. I'm half-way through #3 already, so I suppose I'll have to make another trip.

Fanfiction.Net lept to my mind, and when I got home, I logged on and headed for the section marked Robotech/Macross. I was disappointed to only see one-hundred-something fics. I riffled through them, and was extremly displeased to see that only a few of them were actually worth anything. I wondered what had become of my beloved Robotech. Had it simply faded?

I ran a search, and all I came up with were a few general sites and about a million for buying the various toys and video games that had stemmed from Macross. I got frustrated, and snapped my connection to the internet, stewing in slight anger.

'What,' I thought, 'No character shrines? Come on, Max's face is hansom enough for seven-thousand fanclubs, not to mention Rick and Roy. And no couples' shrines? No websites created solely for the purpose of arguing just /why/ Rick and Lisa go together, or how great of a couple Miriya and Max are? No cross-over sites devoted to throwing the SDF-1 into any number of other anime, such as Ranma, Voltron, or DBZ?'

I left the computer feeling put-out and disappointed. Now that I had re-discovered Robotech, it meant a lot to me, and I was sad to find that almost no one else felt the same.

The next day at school, however, I got a small pick-me-upper. I was carrying the first of the novels with me, to catch a paragraph or two when I had a spare moment, and my friend Chase's eyes bugged when he caught sight of the red and yellow logo on the spine. "Robotech!" he exclaimed. "I haven't thought about that in /ages/!" So at the moment, I'm under oath that I'll let him borrow my books when I'm finished.

Although I don't think I'll ever quite be finished with Rick and Max and the rest. They live in my heart, and Roy will never truly die. Gloval will never truly stop banging his head on the bridge entry-way. Minmei will never truly stop singing her songs, annoyingly perky as they are.

But as stated, I've moved on to bigger animes, although few can be described as better. Robotech holds a big peice of my heart, and always will, even if no one else remembers. In conclution, I

Her pen jerked as the doorbell rang, and she laughed happily, essay forgotten as she bounced to her feet, dislodging her kitten as she did. She fairly danced out to the front door and threw it open to admit her best friend, and the two ran toward the livingroom, giggling not unlike the 'bridge bunnies'.

"I got the next Fushigi Yugi DVD! It's the one where Nuriko dies!"

"Aw! How sad! Let's watch it!"

On a hardwood desk in a teenager's room, where the walls were lined with drawings of Duo Maxwell and Ryou Bakura, an essay lay, along with a stack of novels that would never be forgotten.

()()()()()

WSJ: *smiles* I think that sums up my feelings nicely. Nothing more to say.

God bless minna-san!