Planes of Ink (A Prequel)

Chapter One:

"Ron! Are you going?"

"Wait up!"

          It started with a plane of ink.

          The aroma of the summer rain still lingered in the air as I stared at the window of my bedroom. We lived in an apartment, with the second floor (where my room is) almost as tall as the balcony of a nearby house. We never knew much about our neighbors, but I remember seeing a girl almost as old as me who used to be on the balcony sitting on an old armchair writing on a thick notebook, with frameless reading glasses that corrected her black-brown eyes.

          That time I was thinking about our move hours ago in this apartment, and the bedroom wasn't as good as I thought. I would've preferred a room with neat flesh colored walls and ceilings and a balcony as well, but maybe a window would be ok. The blue paint on the walls and ceilings seemed old; some parts have been chipped out to reveal the previous apricot paint-

*SWOOSH*

          I stopped staring outside when a paper plane hit my arm and landed on my desk. I assumed at first that it was a love letter, and surely it wasn't for me since I wasn't the typical boy you'll see. If I was more slim than I am and lost my chubbiness, maybe I could've been a hearthrob (no kidding). I picked it up, and looked to where it came from.

          I saw the girl, waving at me shyly and smiling from ear to ear. I then got a clear look at her face. It was timid-looking, with a bit of freckles on her round face and a small mouth with pinkish lips that I wondered if her face ever got ripped off from excessive smiles.

           But why was she waving at me? She then pointed below me and I looked around, confused. I looked at her and saw that she formed her right hand into a claw and swooped it sideways indicating a small thing being thrown, and pointed at the same direction she did. I managed to look at the paper plane, which must've been the one she was looking for. It took me a second to realize, but when I turned around to look at her, she disappeared and the door had just closed. That left me looking at the paper, my body filled with curiousness.

           The paper had a lot of neat scribbles of sign pen with some simple words able to be read on the exposed sections of the origami. Judging by the way she wrote, it was different than a love letter; more of a story. Her use of words like 'she' and 'orphan' had implied Third Person View being used in the piece of paper... Those alone raised my curiousness and I managed to unfold the paper, surprising me with a story's title in fake calligraphy.

          The way she mingled words in our second language. It was a real masterpiece, to think that it looked like she was about to reach the start of high school (7th grade)! 'She hid in the shadows, but she also revealed herself in the light with disguises and fake nicknames. Her resurgence had no pattern.' I stared at the paper with my mouth agape, until I reached the end followed by a note.

           'P.S, I've heard you have internet. Publish in the internet, please.'

           It made me realize something. It was for me after all, and as her first fan, I had to give a reward.

~~~~~~

          The passing of letters went on for days, and each note was better than the last. It felt more magical than recieving an admirer's gift. I never knew why I felt like that, but all I know was that I was amazed by how she came up with such simple words in a creative pattern. I wasn't a fan of novels, but here I am.

           It was like looking at the ocean. A normal scene but a very romantic and breathtaking view; it almost looked like you want to dive right into the salty water that sparkled against the sun's rays. And you never get tired of hearing the rhythmic waves crash on the rocks and on the shoreline.

           When a new letter comes, I never got tired of reading them over and over again, and read them with the previous letters in order. I enjoyed the sight of her throwing the paper planes from the air and into my bedroom, sometimes the road.

            I wasted no time and go downstairs just to get it, but miserably forgetting that the exit of our apartment was on the other side and it would take an hour to go around the corner by foot. Instead, she picks it up and tries again and again, wearing that big smile on her face whether it shoots to her target or not.

            I didn't intend to have friends right here in the neighborhood, but something made me think that I want to know her. I wanted to be friends with her.

           The next day, I had permission going for a walk around the streets after our trip to the supermarket and with a cardboard box wrapped on my arms, I happily went to that same street her house was and knocked on the wooden gate.

           A skinny boy about a few years younger than me opened the window and seeing me, shouted. "Pop, someone's here!" Satisfied by the response, I patiently waited while looking around. Their house looked a bit old, the insides painted in apricot with polished red cement as the floor.

           A muscular man in mid-thirties sprang out of the door and I heard heavy footsteps brushing against the cement and the hinges squeaked when he opened them. He somehow looks alike the girl, he must be her father. Judging by his looks, I don't think we'll hang out well. "Who are you looking for?"

          "I-I'm... " I stuttered. It could've been better if that boy earlier was the one who opened for me, he really looks scary just by looking at his body. "...i-is there a-a girl around my age?"

"Yna?"

           YNA. YNA. YNA. Her name rang on my ears. But he could mistake my age, right? So I shrugged. I alternatively shifted looks from him and to nowhere. But he surprised me with a burst... A burst of laughter.

           He called for the one he mentioned as 'Yna' and raised his hand which made me jump a little. He patted my shoulder. I really thought he was gonna spank me, or worse. I guess I had the wrong impression.

"There's only one teen in the house."

"What is it?"

          We looked at where the voice came from, and saw her. The man patted my shoulder again.

"Beware of my daughter, she's a bit of a war freak." He chuckled once more before leaving us two.

"Sooo... you came?"

           "I was just gonna give this." I showed her the small rectangular box wrapped in a purple gift wrapper with multi-colored star designs. "What is it?" I rolled my eyes. "A box with an elephant."

         "Haha..." she said in a deadpan tone, and reached out her hand. "Katrina. Katrina Mendez." It was fast, but I already knew her. Atleast her name and her voice for now, which I could compare to Haruno Hime of 'Acchi Kocchi'. Handshakes weren't my thing, but it would be a good start.

"Ronnell Gabud."