Summary: A series of vignettes on the life of Michael Lee, before, during, and after the series. The first takes place upon his family's arrival in Japan.
Disclaimer: Michael Lee, With Hunter Robin, STN, none of it belongs to me.
A pair or stark blue eyes gazed up at the sky from the cab window. Twelve-year old Michael Lee stared up at a departing plane as it circled around, heading out over the Pacific Ocean. He closed his eyes, and rested his chin in his palm. He didn't want to think about home now.
The least he could do was be optimistic, he reasoned with himself. His dad had been waiting for that promotion for years. The Japan-based company he worked for had been his employer since before Michael was born, and he had slowly been working his way up to working at the head office in Tokyo. When they got the news, his mother and father had been overjoyed.
At least he wasn't the only one leaving something behind, right? Now, that was a lie. While their suburban Vancouver townhouse had been a bump in the path of success to his goal-oriented parents, Michael had set down roots. He was leaving behind good friends, an awesome school which he would have been graduating from at the end of June, and hockey. In the middle of the season, his hometown Canucks were doing much better than usual; but he would probably never hear about it. Japan was big on baseball, or so he heard.
"I'm sure you'll love it Michael. Just give it a chance." How many times had he heard that since his Dad's promotion? "You'll catch on to the language quickly, Michael. You'll make some new friends right away, Michael. You'll get to experience another culture, Michael. Just be happy for us now." He sighed dejectedly. No one would understand him.
"Have a very good life here, Sir and Madam." The cab driver called as he drove away.
The boy was looking up at the fifteen-story apartment building right on the street. Nothing fancy, not in any high-end neighborhood. He followed his parents inside, where they took the elevator to the eleventh floor. The air in the small space was tense. Neither he nor his mother had seen their living space yet
The elevator stopped at their floor, and it was a short walk down the hall to the apartment 1104, his new address. The door swung open to reveal a small kitchen, and beyond a tiny living room. They stepped inside, removing their shoes at the door.
"It's… Nice." His mother Miranda commented quietly. Michael could tell she disliked it.
He picked his bag up out of the doorway, and looked in the first room on the left. It was small, and the only box inside read 'Michael's Room', so he figured it was his. He set down the bag. The space was cramped, even though the only things inside were a desk and a bed. His dresser had been neatly sandwiched into the tiny closet. It was hot, and so he moved to the window, opening it.
He was hit by a blast of cold air that smelled rather foul. He immediately slid the window shut. The heat was better than the smell. Having had lived in suburbia his entire life, he knew what a bad air day smelled like, but this was about four times worse, on a normal day.
The sun was setting, and the lights of the city began flickering on. He sat on his low window ledge, watching the sun go down. He already hated it.