PM Productions Presents
A Phillip Masters Fanfic
Life:  Part 3

     "You're just in time."
     I turn on the voice, which is oddly high pitched.  My gaze comes to
rest on a short woman, appearing to be about twenty or so.  She has
short silver hair and green, almost like emerald, eyes.  Otherwise, she
is a very plain looking person.  Glancing into those green orbs says
otherwise.  "What?"  I ask, not quite over the initial shock of finding
someone here who can move.
     "You are just in time."  She repeats, grinning slightly.
     "In time for what?"  I return, confused beyond all belief.
     Her grin turns to a smile, as if she's humored by something.
"That's for you to find out."  She chuckles lightly.
     Either this person is nuts, or there's something on my face.  I
figure on the former, thinking the large knot on my noggin can't be that
amusing.  "Why can't you tell me what's going on?  Don't you know?"
     Then, she vanishes.  Just like that.  Didn't move, blink, or say
goodbye.  Just up and goes, *poof*.  This is the point where I begin to
question my own sanity.  A tap on my shoulder just about stops my heart.
I swivel on a foot mostly out of instinct, and come face to face with
the same woman.  She leans forward and kisses me, right on the lips.
Surprised and lost, I just stand there blinking.  Finally she pulls
away, the same smile plastered on her face.
     "Now, why don't you do what you have to do?"  She asks, as though I
should know absolutely everything that is going on automatically.
     I reach up and touch my lips slowly.  There is a minor tingling
sensation still present from when her ruby mouth contacted mine.  "What
am I supposed to do?"  I whisper softly.
     Her smile drops suddenly, making me step back quickly.  "You don't
know do you?"  Her eyes begin to water, much to my distress.  For some
reason I don't like the fact that I'm upsetting her.  "You don't know."
Her voice quavers, a tear rolls down her cheek.
     I start to step toward her, intent on trying to comfort her.
Something in me cares for this silver haired woman.  
     She sticks up her hand, effectively stopping me.  Her eyes are now
dripping regularly, the liquid pain collecting at her chin and dropping
to the ground silently.  "You just weren't ready yet."  She tells me.
     "Ready?  Ready for what?!"  I am beginning to get desperate for
some answers.  I'd really like to know if this is real or a figment of
my imagination.  
     The woman waves her hand, and begins to fade.  Sounds of the normal
Tokyo streets start to filter in from wherever they are being contained.
Ghostly images of commuters, trains, and cars also appear.  As she goes,
so does normality return.  I reach for her at a whim, but my hand passes
right through her.  "Wait!"  I cry, but to no avail.  Something strikes
me at the last moment.  "What is your name?!"  I yell, almost unable to
see her.  I wince as a spectre automobile flies through my body.  I look
up and focus on the woman's eyes one last time, seeing my own self
reflected in them.  In both mind and body.
     A soft word travels on the wind to my ear as she disappears
completely.  "Mianaiya."  
     I fall to my knees, the noise of Tokyo fully engulfing me in its
choking grasp.  I barily register the sounds of tires squealing as I put
my face in my palms.  Mianaiya.  I don't recognize the name at all, but
it sends a fire through my soul.  It's as if I should know it, and know
it better than I know my own name.  
     As I mull over the feelings that have suddenly invaded me, I feel
something on my shoulder.  It's a hand, and it pulls me to me feet
gruffly.  I turn my tear stained eyes to a bulky man, who looks about
ready to kill.  Unfortunately, that would be me he wants to kill.
     "What in the hell are you doing in the middle of the road, you
fuckin' kid?!"  He screams at me at the top of his substantial lungs.
     Now, usually I'm not a violent person.  In fact, I am quite tame.
However, recent events have led me to be a tad more moody than my norm.
I pull back a fist and deck him straight in the jaw.  A satisfying snap
sounds from the man's neck as his head is thrown backwards.  I grin as
he lets go of me.  That felt damn good.  I take the chance to look
around a bit.  There are people staring at me, which is to be expected.
Nearby are two cars which have their fenders wrapped around one another.
Most likely one of the cars belongs to the fellow I just smashed.
     The fellow who is now staring at me with fire in his eyes.  I step
back at the intensity of the glare.  "Why you fuckin' brat!"  He yells.
I can see mothers cover their children's ears as they continue to stare
in rapt attention.  The enraged man throws a wild punch at me.  Wild,
but filled with the power of a mule's kick.  
     Fortunately, one of the things my father could give me without
being here, are his lightning reflexes.  I quickly duck, the fist
sailing over my head with a rush of wind.  I can feel my hair stand on
end as the man follows through.  I stare at the stomach moving toward
me, almost in slow motion.  I bring my fists together and drive them
into the guy's gut with all my might.  A yell escapes my chest as I
swing.
     Much to my incredible surprise, the man goes flying backward.  He
sails through the air and impacts the side of one of the smashed cars.
Another loud crack sounds through the area as the man's body puts a
sizeable dent in the side of the vehicle.  The only surviving window,
which he manages to hit, shatters instantly.  From there, he falls to
the ground in a heap.
     I kneel there, gasping for breath.  It's as though all my lifeforce
went into that hit, which would seem to go along with the results.  My
father, so I'm told, was an expert at Ki manipulation.  Yet, I was also
told that it takes decades of practice to master, and one must be
naturally adept at it to do so.  But what else could explain what just
happened?
     I finally find the energy to make it to my feet.  Some people are
staring at me, albeit from a hypothosized "safe" distance.  Most people,
though, simply go along with their daily lives; for them, the show is
over.  Enough of their precious time had already been wasted on what
they could see from the comfort of their homes on TV.  I find it all
very disgusting, but at the same time, convenient.  The last thing I
need is a crowd of angry, or worse yet, impressed, people after me.  I
also hope there are no martial arts or anime fans who just witnessed
that, or I would never hear the end of it.  Fortunately, even the few
straglers eventually move along, seemingly convinced that nothing else
interesting is going to happen.
     As if my luck could be that good.  I slip into the renewed stream
of families and business men, blending as well as I can as I hear sirens
blare in the distance.
END PART THREE
Heavens... where is this going?  I have no clue.  I've never written a
story so much on the fly before.  I'm extremely interested in comments,
thanks for reading...
PMasters          

"I'm only holding back the rain.  So many raindrops, so many pains.  I
want to find my train someday.  As seasons go past the station." - Tokyo
Babylon OVA 1
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