[Fan Fiction] "I'm Still Here" ~An Orphan's Tale

Since this probably won't make a ton of sense, I should explain. Zayne (the character, not me) was originally Roger's daughter. However, in a moment of exploration, I decided to seen what she'd be like if she wasn't related to him. But owing to a strange pull Roger has to me (that and the fact that I love making him react badly to a typical father-daughter situation), I have to keep him involved somehow. I played off something from The Warehouse (Mrs. Beck's message board) called Genetic Illness, wherein Yin was going to die of fever like her brother and sister. And so, I continued on the path to Zayne being an orphan. So, here it is.
As for my other endeavors, please bear with me. My brain's running on empty for them. ~Zayne (writer)

Part One

'Yin Edogawa, a programmer for Paradigm Science Group, died yesterday, October 28th, after a month-long battle with a genetic blood fever. She was a single mother and leaves behind her 16-year-old daughter, Zayne Edogawa. Edogawa's memorial service will be held November 2nd.'

A few hurried lines in the columns of obituaries. Zayne's blood boiled as she sat in the plain office of the Paradigm City Orphans' Home and waited for her information to be written down. The Home was strictly for orphans, not abandoned children or those put up for adoption because they weren't wanted. Every orphan had their parents' obituaries on file, and everyone knew their own story; they made sure of it.

The black-haired teen turned her face to the window and peered at her reflection. Frightened, almond-shaped, Asian brown eyes stared back at her from a curtain of black hair, the bluish curls falling down her arms to her elbows crooked on the arms of the chair in which she sat. She was, in fact, terrified. Her father had skipped out while her mother was pregnant and was never heard from again.

Zayne took the folder the plump, smiling matron handed to her and looked down at it. 'Interests,' she thought. 'Existing, breathing, revenge.' She sighed and wrote, 'singing, dancing, writing songs, making music videos'. The Japanese beauty gave a sigh and rose. "I'd like to go to my room now."

"Of course." The matron went to the door and let in a tall, dark-skinned boy roughly Zayne's height. His eyes were black and piercing, but there was sadness in them. "Zayne, this is Seth. His parents died in a bombing a few years ago. Seth, this is Zayne Edogawa. Her mother died--"

"Of fever Friday. I read." Seth turned to the Japanese girl. "I'm sorry for your loss. We all are."

Tears rose in Zayne's dark eyes as she nodded. "Thank you. I know you understand the pain." She shook his hand as tears rained down her face.

Seth smiled. "I'll take you to the Teenagers' Floor. There are less of us, so we have more room than the younger kids." He offered her his arm as he smiled.

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and nodded. The lump in her throat was suffocating and crushed her vocal chords. Zayne's legs shook slightly as she leaned on the brown arm that took her up several flights of stairs to the Teenagers' Floor.

"Hi!" chorused the voices of five teens, all of whom were about Zayne's age, give or take a year.

Two were female. One sported brown Oriental eyes and vivid red hair, dressed in a short black skirt, red camisole top, and black pumps. She was a punkish type, Zayne guessed. The other girl had green eyes and hair dyed half black and half red, dressed in a mini-dress almost too short for modesty. The other three boys all shared brown eyes in common, but their hair was different. One was blonde and wore a sweater-vest and khakis. Another was brunette and in a ripped tank top and jeans with bare feet. The final was more Asian and sat there in a martial arts training outfit. He was a black belt. He sparked Zayne's attention with a greeting bow characteristic of the Japanese.

"We're your brothers and sisters now," said the green-eyed girl. "I'm Tori. Our other sister is Kai. The straight-laced dork is Micah." She dodged a swipe from aforementioned boy, giggling. "The punk here is Gabe." Tori ruffled the brunette’s hair, receiving a raspberry blown wetly in her face. "And the Asian here is Makoto."

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Yo."

"Konnichi wa."

Zayne smiled weakly. "Hey. I'm Zayne."

"Nice to meet ya!" Tori rose and pushed Zayne back into a chair. "Here. Blow yer honker. You're new to being an orphan. The pain'll pass soon enough."

Zayne nodded as if she believed the girl, but in her heart, she didn't. She was ripping apart piece by piece, and there was no witness. Not the people around her, not the matron, not the Military Police. Just the spirit of her dead mother, and a fat lot of good that did her.

-Part 2-

It wasn't too long after Zayne moved into the Orphans' Home that she found herself working at an escort service. She was the New Girl, a Paradigm geisha. She had been hired for her foreign looks by Alex Rosewater as a companion to a social event, and even as Kai helped her with her make-up and dress, Zayne was having second thoughts.

"I really don't want to do this," she groaned as Kai zipped the back of her white cheongsam. "Can't I just not show up?"

"Not on your life, little sister," the older girl replied. "Mr. Rosewater runs Paradigm Corp. You think your mother would want you to skip out on him?"

"My mother hated him," said the younger icily.

"Well, you can't. If I know you, you need the money. Spin."

Zayne turned on her feet and held out her arms. "Well, Onei-chan?" she asked.

Kai smiled. "Perfect. A true geisha." She brushed a few strands of Zayne's hair out of her face and put a finger to her lip. "Hmmm. . . ." Reaching forward, nimble fingers plucked a strand of hair for its place, curled it, and let it hang. "Now it's perfect."

Zayne turned and looked at herself in a mirror. She did indeed look like a geisha of sorts. She shivered slightly and pulled on a coat. "Wish me luck, Kai." The black-haired girl carefully hurried toward the West 38th Street dome on white high-heeled feet, trying not to attract attention of the unwanted kind.

She arrived at a quarter to seven at Paradigm Headquarters. Alan Gabriel -- Mr. Rosewater's snickering cyborg assistant -- showed her to the meeting room, where the event was to be held. There were panoramic windows along one wall, looking over the city, and the ceiling vaulted 35 feet over her head. Zayne suddenly felt very small, and she had a vivid mental image of people, their hands brushing the ceiling, staring down at her as if wondering if she was worth squishing.

"Zayne Edogawa, isn't it?" Alex Rosewater was standing behind her; she could see him in the reflection of the windows.

She turned and nodded. "Yes, sir. That's me."

She was looked over keenly. A crawling sensation moved slowly up her spine as he undressed her with his dark eyes. She hid behind her curtain of dark hair, which she'd left down to hide the tattoo on the back of her neck. Rosewater reached forward and moved the black hair. She jumped back, exposing the barcode briefly. He understood and withdrew his hand.

"Roger Smith and R. Dorothy Waynewright," announced an aide from the doorway.

ARRRGH! *slaps self for not reviewing earlier* .... Ok, now I feel less guilty. Heh. Sorry about the wait, I've been uber-busy of late (compared to usual, of course)

So, on to my actual review. Once again, you've proved an excellent writer (describing emotions and the like, you know how it goes); and even though your stuff always branches into an often unexplored branch of fanfiction, it's still interesting and innovative. Kudos, mi amiga!

Unusual but great as always.

--Part 3--

Roger Smith's eye was immediately caught by the teenager in white. She was hard to miss in an empty room and looked terrified beside the head of Paradigm Corp. Who wouldn't have been? Alex Rosewater was an imposing figure even when you were on his good side.

When the teenager bowed politely to him, Roger gave Rosewater a hard look. Then, he looked down at the girl. "What's your name?"

"Zayne Edogawa. I'm from the Tenmei Escort Service." She brushed back her hair and looked up at him, beseeching him to help her escape.

The last name rang a faint bell. "Are you related to Yin Edogawa?" Roger asked, letting Dorothy move away to better grasp the situation.

"That was my mother," Zayne replied. "She died."

"I knew her. She'll be missed. She was a talented programmer." Watching Zayne look away, Roger immediately knew he'd struck a nerve. Yin Edogawa wasn't even cold in her grave. Offering the orphan a smile, he moved off, muttering as he passed Rosewater, "If I learn something's happened to that girl...."

As the night wore on, Roger found he had a headache from the stuffy room (despite its size) and so slipped onto the balcony for some fresh air. He was a little surprised to also find Zayne Edogawa sitting on the wide stone railing, kicking her feet over the abyss of city below.

"The dream isn't over yet; though I often say I can forget, I still relive that day. 'You've been there with me all the way', I still hear you say." she sang quietly, her chin on a closed fist. "'Wait for me I'll write you letters,' I could see how you stammered with your eyes to the floor. But still I swore to hide the doubt when I turn back the pages. Anger might have been the answer. What if I'd hung my head and said that I couldn't wait? But now I'm strong enough to know it's not too late...*"

"Your mother would be proud of your voice," the Negotiator said quietly, leaning on the railing beside her.

"She was," Zayne replied in a dreamy sort of voice. "She told me I could go to a voice coach when I turned seventeen and really polish it off. 'I don't want you working for Paradigm if you don't have to,' she'd say. Then she got sick...."

"Is it true that the disease is genetic?"

"Uh-huh. I was tested for the gene. Don't have it." She heaved a sigh. "I always think," Zayne said heavily, "that there was more they could do, but not in this city. Isolated as it is, I'm surprised there hasn't been an outbreak of smallpox yet."

"You're taking your anger out on the city," Roger noted blandly.

"Yep." She looked at him. "But you wouldn't know why. You don't remember your parents."


*1000 Words -- Final Fantasy X-2 insert song

---Part 4---

Roger watched the girl for a minute more before just shaking his head. It was true; he couldn't remember a thing about his own family. His mother, his father, any siblings. The Paradigm geisha had him at a loss. There was also her festering anger at the Paradigm Corporation. Real or an act, it won his sympathies.

By the end of the night, Roger could remember why he avoided Alex Rosewater at all costs. The Gryffon eased steadily through the streets of the domed city while the occupants were silent. That is, until they reached the edge of the dome.

"Roger," Dorothy said, pointing out the windshield. A familiar form was walking down the street, head bowed against the cold and hair dancing in the night breeze.

The car pulled alongside. "Do you need a ride, Zayne?" Roger asked as the window descended.

The young escort glanced over at him. "I thought you world have gone home hours ago," she noted, stopping in her tracks.

He shook his head. "Get in. We'll take you home."

She nodded and slid into the back seat. She seemed different from earlier in the evening, more shy and reserved. Roger's dark eyes roved up her face (which was tilted downward), down the curls and waves of her hair, and finally back to the road. "Where do you live?" he asked.

"Paradigm City Orphan's Home," Zayne responded quietly. "Down on 5th Street."

The drive there was eerily silent. The teenager in the back seat kept her head down, her fingers fisted in her dress. She looked small and meek. When he glanced at her in the rear view mirror, Roger couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for her. She looked like a shadow of someone who had once been vibrant and happy; the sorrow she had undergone left her unsure of what to do. He made a mental note to talk to Dorothy when they got home.

Zayne slid out of the car as they stopped outside the Home. "Thanks," she acquiesced, closing the door. "I'm sure it was out of your way."

"Not at all," Roger fibbed. "Good night."

"Good night, Mr. Smith." The girl turned and walked up the steps into the house. She leaned against the door, listening to the motor of the Gryffon fade into the darkness.

Oh no! I've lost my USB drive, and it has all my stuff on it. So please be patient, loyal readers. I'm trying.