Characters: Naoto, ??
Pairing: Hmm.
Rating: G
A/N: This is a first in a series of fanfics set in yet another alternate universe. If you have read my previous entries, you may find the theme familiar. A few modifications were made to the setting, though.
Chapters: 1 |
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Collison. A sharp burst of pain.
The world spiralled as he fell, fading into black.
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Upon waking, he found himself surrounded by bars. Two plastic bowls sat in one corner of the cage, one filled with water and the other with seeds.
Seeing the blue sky out of the window, he tried to fly towards it. He should have known better; the searing sensation in his right wing made him see stars.
Yet he continued trying, becoming increasingly agitated with every failed attempt.
Amidst the haze of pain, he dimly registered a voice calling out.
“Ah! Don’t! Please stop; you’ll hurt yourself even more!”
Breathing heavily, he struggled to the corner furthest away from the approaching human. However, panic soon took over once again when said human stretched a large hand out towards him.
A towel was soon covering the cage, plunging him into darkness.
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He had never been the trusting sort.
Splinting his wing took a lot of effort from the strange human.
Making sure that he did not successfully remove the splint took even more work.
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It had been four months since his wing was broken, and he still could not fly.
“It seems like this little fellow was too active. The bones didn’t heal properly.”
“Is there any way that you can fix this?”
“At this point of time, no. Breaking the wing a second time may send him into shock. It is very likely that he would not make it.”
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Once again, they were back in the human’s kitchen.
“If I’m going to be taking care of you, I think I shall give you a name,” that now-familiar face was staring at him contemplatively.
“Oh I know. How about ‘Naoto-chan’?”
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His human had left the cage in the garden for him to get some sun.
When he opened the door to refill the water dish, he saw the chance.
He took it.
“Naoto-chan! Come back!”
He ignored the voice and half-hopped, half-flapped into the bushes and under the fence.
Freedom at last.