#caged animal...... crowd watching........ task that is never finished

[racingthestorm]

Kenda Cherry / Len Redkoles / Peter Baugh / Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum / Bruce Bennett / Hypercritic / Kevin Sousa / Hypercritic / Icon Sportswire / Hypercritic

[naughtydaaikon]

A Rose By Any Other Name...

Title: A Rose By Any Other Name... (Chapter 1/2)

Also on Ao3!

Fandom: Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun

Rating: T (warnings for major character death, but it��s not gonna have a sad ending, I promise!)

Word Count: 7,480 words

Summary:

Death wasn’t as dramatic as stories made it out to be.

Nene had read plenty of books growing up. Romance, drama, horror (her favorite!), and of course, tragedies. She had never been a big fan of that particular genre. It was always too melodramatic for her tastes, and not in the whimsical, romantic way that she liked. Death was always tragic, that was undeniably true, but in the stories, it always seemed as though the dying person would cling desperately to life, fighting with every fiber of their being to cling to that one final breath. Nene didn’t fight when she died.

Oh, she had thought as it hit her. I’m dying.

That sucks.

Predictably, Nene dies. Fortunately, contrary to what Hanako claimed, death wasn't necessarily the end. 

--

Notes: Okay, so like this was posted on ao3 forever ago, and I just realized that I never posted it here, so I’m correcting that right now, I guess. I hope you all enjoy. Please leave a comment, like, and reblog if you enjoy. Also shoot a message to me if you want to talk Hananene. I forget about tumblr sometimes, but I will surely answer eventually. 

-------

...Would still smell just as sweet.

 -------

 Kamome Academy was a place where legends were born and made real. 

 The school had been the one unchanging fixture within Shibuya of what was now Tokyo’s bustling financial district. Kamome had stood for a near century, its walls still made from the same stone that had been used to construct it all of those years ago, back when it had first been built over an old wooden school house that shared its land with an old Shinto shrine to the god, Inari. 

 There were strong spiritual roots here, even in the iron jungle that was Tokyo. 

 Perhaps that was the reason so many spirits were born here — were bound to this place. 

 Within the crowded, lively halls of Kamome Academy, secrets and rumors had a way of becoming tangible; real. All you really had to do was breathe life into that secret and it would animate itself. 

 Or in some cases — reanimate.

 “Hey, have you heard this rumor?” A girl leans close to her friend during their lunch period. They sit at the same desk, hunched over, giggling. It is here that a rumor is whispered, a rumor to be spread. “If there’s someone that you love with all your heart, you should go to Kamome’s outdoor pool. If you throw a 5 yen coin into the pool and wish for your lover to be yours, the mermaid who lives in the depths of the pool will grant your wish.”

 “Really?”

 “Yes! It’s said that when she was alive she fell in love with a mortal that she couldn’t have, for she was a mermaid and he was a human. In the end, she tried to change her fate.”

 “And then what happened?”

 “What do you think happens when you try to change your destiny? She turned into sea foam and died!”

 And so, she was born. Or was it reborn?

 Just — like — that. 

 -------

 Death wasn’t as dramatic as stories made it out to be.

 Nene had read plenty of books growing up. Romance, drama, horror (her favorite!), and of course, tragedies. She had never been a big fan of that particular genre. It was always too melodramatic for her tastes, and not in the whimsical, romantic way that she liked. Death was always tragic, that was undeniably true, but in the stories, it always seemed as though the dying person would cling desperately to life, fighting with every fiber of their being to cling to that one final breath. Nene didn’t fight when she died. 

 “No -- no, Yashiro! You’ve got to fight! No, no, no--”

 Oh, she wanted to fight, of course. She wanted to kick, to punch, to scream about how badly she wanted to live. She wanted to perform a long soliloquy about the unfairness of it all, the spotlight shining directly on her as she decried her fate. After all, who wanted to die at sixteen? There was still so much that she hadn’t done! 

 “Yashiro, hold on!”

 She hadn’t gone on a real date, hadn’t gone on a long romantic walk underneath the starlight, nor had she been swept off of her feet, or even kissed. The subject of her own mortality had been a constant burden that she had carried with her since living in  Shijima’s pseudo-perfect world. How could she not think about it, after all? Though, at the moment of death, it was as though all those feelings crashed within her, and the impact was both sudden and brutal. It was a strange duality, wanting so badly to live, and yet having not a slither of energy or ability to fight off that impending finality.

 It was her fate, after all.

 No, she couldn’t fight.

 Nene had simply slipped away.

 One moment, she was there — filled with light, with warmth. She had been helping Hanako with something —  though, that was difficult to remember. What had she been helping him with? A yorishiro, perhaps. Yeah, that sounded right. One moment, she had been reaching to undo the 

seal on a yorishiro. An action that she had done so many times before. She hadn’t even considered that this would be the moment that the sand within her hourglass would finally run out. 

 That was all that it took. 

 She doesn’t even feel being stabbed.

 Then she’s losing feeling in all of her limbs, growing numb —  cold.

 “Yashiro!”

 The most difficult part of dying, Nene thought, had been lying in Hanako’s arms as he held her and screamed. She remembered that with almost crystal clarity. Had she ever seen him cry before? Yes, she had. Thrice -- once as Amane, when he had still been full of life, bruised and sobbing in an empty classroom. Then once more on the school’s rooftop after he had encountered his brother, and again back in the painted world as he admitted how badly he wanted her to live. She had felt awful, then. He wanted her to live, to survive  —  and she wouldn't, even when he had taken on her wish to live for another 99 years.

 An impossible wish.

 Too impossible to grant.

 A selfish wish. Just who was she to try to defy fate, after all? 

 She had promised herself that she would never be the source of those tears again, though. I’m just breaking all of my promises, she thought as she gazed up at him, his voice growing so far away. His voice sounded like nothing more than a distant, far off echo. He seemed so alive right now -- amber eyes burning, red and swollen with tears, as though he had true flesh to bruise and swell. He had been trembling, shaking her as he cried her name again and again. 

 Oh, she had thought as it hit her. I’m dying.

 That sucks.

 Nene had wanted to comfort him, to cup his cheek and promise that everything would be fine. She would be fine. She wanted to lie to him -- to assure him that her own mortality was nothing but a fallacy to be ignored. What happened? She wondered, watching his expression, as tears that she could not feel fell onto her skin. They should have been wet. Under normal circumstances, she might’ve even panicked about him getting her skin wet. Didn’t he know that she’d turn into a fish if she got too wet? 

 And with that last, foolish thought  —  she was gone.

 Here  —  and then not.

 No, death wasn’t the hard part.

 It was leaving him behind -- knowing that she had caused that pain within his eyes. That was the hardest part.

 ------

 It was a bright and sunny morning when she regained consciousness.

 At first, she hadn’t found anything to be amiss. The school bell hadn’t even rung yet as Nene stood just beyond the entrance to the school building. Strange, she thought to herself, looking around and taking in her surroundings. It was still too early for the rest of her classmates to arrive, earlier than she normally even came into school. Had she needed to finish something for Aoi in the gardening club? That was usually the only time that she came in early. “That has to be it,” she said, satisfied with her answer.

 Something had felt off.

 It was an odd feeling, as though her skin was pulled too tightly over her own body, as though her organs didn’t fit correctly inside of her. There was an acrid, bitter taste in her mouth that just didn’t seem to dissipate. Something was wrong; she couldn’t place just what. Nene’s lips twisted into a frown as she tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth. Come to think of it, she didn’t remember even coming to school. She didn’t even remember the previous day. Had she cleaned the toilets with Hanako? Had she eaten dinner? What had her mother prepared for her and her father? Her stomach felt -- off. There was a dull throbbing sensation in her belly, as though she had eaten something that hadn’t sat right with her. Absentmindedly, she rubbed the spot.

 Had she remembered to clean Black Canyon’s cage? She had to clean it out every Wednesday.

 What day even is it? Nene wondered, that awful feeling only growing, like bile rising in her throat. She could feel it gathering in her throat as she made it to the school gardens. It was empty, of course. It was still far too early for anyone else to be there. She looked around, checking the soil and growing even colder as she did so. 

 Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

 Something was very wrong.

 The last time she had gone to her gardening club, they had harvested the tomatoes and cucumbers that had finally finished growing. She knew that she had meant to come in early and plant new vegetables for the summer season like Aoi had asked her to do, and if Aoi had delegated the task to Nene, that meant it was her job to get it done and hers alone.

 And yet -- 

 All of the summer vegetables had already been planted. Some of them were even fully grown. The squash plants were large and supple. They would need to be pulled soon. 

 How much time had passed? 

 When was it?

 It couldn’t still be Spring. Hadn't the trees just been blossoming with soft pink petals days before? Calm down, she thought to herself, though it felt as though her heart was about to burst out of her chest. Her hands felt cold and clammy, as though they were covered in sweat.

 One, two. Breathe.

 Try to remember. There had to be an explanation for all of this  — 

 What was it  — 

 The memory came to her suddenly, barrelling through her mind like a bullet train. 

 -- There had been new supernaturals that had cropped up, plaguing the schools with their wretched pranks. Hanako had called them Amanojaku, imp-like troublemakers who had begun appearing around the school, whispering in the ears of the students before their cruel persuasion eventually incited the object of their torment to mischief and violence. It had started with arguments amongst the students within Nene’s class. Simple things -- everyone just seemed more on edge than usual, until the moment that Lemon-kun had thrown a punch right at Akane-kun’s face.  

 And then...

 And then what? 

 It’s fine! She thought, even though she was already falling to her knees, nerves threatening to overtake her. I can just ask Hanako! He’ll know what happened!

 She’d talk to him  — and then he’d fill her in. Then, everything would make sense  —  

 “Yashiro?” A voice whispered. She could barely even hear it, though she recognized the voice immediately. She could feel her breath catch in the back of her throat. Hanako! She thought. Good! It was just the person who she wanted to see! Nene smiled, all but scrambling to her feet as she turned around to face him. He was the same as he normally was  — translucent as the rays of sunlight shone through his body. It was as though he was there, and yet not. A fading fixture in a solid world.

 Haku-joudai hovered around him, though the two orbs appeared to be agitated about something. They shook in place, dashing around him as though in a frenzy.  Hanako, on the other hand, hadn’t moved an inch.

 “Hanako-kun!” she cried, delighted as she began to run towards him. “Something really weird is going on!” Tears of frustration and relief filled her eyes. 

 It was only then that something about his reaction struck her as strange. Normally, Hanako would’ve already been all over her, wouldn’t he have? He’d be floating near her, arms wrapped around her as though he were a second skin. 

 But  — 

 Hanako hadn’t made a single move towards her. He simply stood there, staring at her, lips parted in what seemed to be disbelief. 

 Wasn’t he normally happy to see her?

 His usual cheshire smile was gone, replaced with a look of pure horror. His large eyes seemed even wider, pupils constricted as his body trembled hard. “Yashiro,” he breathed, sounding as though the very action of speaking was a laborious effort. “Yashiro  — I’m so sorry.”

 An apology.

 What was he apologizing for?

 She laughed, unsure of herself. “Hey,” she said, taking another hesitant step towards him, as that feeling of wrongness in the pit of her stomach only mounted. Why was he looking at her like that? The expression of his face was difficult to place. His eyes seemed swollen, lips quivering. It was like he didn’t want to look at her. Was he feeling guilty?  “What are you apologizing for?” She couldn’t remember. Had she complained to him about cleaning the toilets again? It wasn’t like him to be sorry over something like that, though.

 She smiled, “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Hanako-kun.” She grabbed his hand, meaning to calm him. The moment that she does, however, she noticed that his hand felt different. It wasn’t cold. In fact, she could feel a warmth emanating from him. It was reminiscent of how his skin had felt in the picture world. Soft. Warm.

 Strange.

 “Hanako-kun -- I’m glad that I ran into you here,” and truly, she was. She could mull over the warmth of his skin later. Finally, things would begin to start making sense!

 “I wanted to ask you what happened the other day?” she began slowly. “With the Amanojaku!”

 No answer.

 Why was he looking at her like that?

 “Hanako-kun?”

 He swallowed as though there was something thick trapped within his throat. “Yashiro,” from the moment that he spoke, he seemed to come back to himself. He was pale, shivering as he slowly lifted a hand to her cheek. He squeezed the hand that she was holding, before lacing their fingers together. “Yashiro,” he repeated her name, but it sounded like he was in pain. 

 He still hadn’t answered her.

 Hanako leaned against her, moving so close that for a moment, she thought that he might kiss her. She grew warm, cheeks burning when he rested his forehead against her. His eyes squeeze closed. He felt as though he were actually alive. How was that possible? Hanako’s touch had always been cool, but his skin was so warm that Nene couldn't help but melt into it. As bemused as she was, it felt nice to be held like this by him. Like she belonged there -- in his arms. The school was quiet all around them, and for a moment, she wondered if time had stopped.

 The romance novels that she read often described moments like this. It was the moment that magic became real, and the feelings of the two lovers became too overwhelming to be contained. Perhaps there would be a confession  — an embrace or even a warm kiss. Nene felt swollen with excitement.

 It felt —  perfect.

 Right.

 “You need to move on,” he spoke suddenly, jolting her right out of her thoughts. 

  —  And the spell had been broken.

 “Move on?” She asked quietly. She didn’t understand what he meant. Move on from what? 

 His eyes averted, looking lower, towards her abdomen. His skin seemed to turn ashen before his eyes flickered back to hers. “You  — you don’t feel that?” He asked quietly. His question makes her pause. 

 Feel what? 

 “Why aren’t you answering my questions?” It didn’t make any sense. This evasiveness was ridiculous even for Hanako, who always kept his secrets locked close to his heart. It was normal for him to use a question or some other means to distract her when he wanted to keep his lips sealed, but this was far too much. He kept on answering her questions with more questions. Really -- there had to be a limit to how much Hanako could keep from her! 

 His eyes flickered back down to her abdomen again.

 He grit his teeth, untangling their fingers to her disappointment and bringing them to rest on her shoulders. “Look down,” said Hanako, choosing to be evasive once more. Still, his insistence that she look at herself made her hesitate. She didn’t want to. She wanted to fight him more -- to demand that he answer her questions, but from the look within his eyes, Nene could tell that this was serious. She was missing something important.

 But what was that?

 Nene could feel that harsh, heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach returning. Come to think of it -- didn’t her belly hurt? There was a dull throb there, right beneath her ribs. It didn’t feel like a stomach ache. No, the pain was much sharper.  It had been building since the moment that she woke up in front of the school. Finally ripping her eyes away from Hanako’s she looked down at herself. 

 -- And then she saw it.

 A gaping hole, ripped ragged and bloody,was torn right through her. It was right beneath her ribs. Crimson blood stained her uniform. There was so much of it. The skirt of her uniform was entirely ruined, soaked through with the fluid. She could even feel the warm, sticky substance seeping into the fabric of her tights. “...What…?” she whispered. The pain dissipated, leaving only a numbness in its wake. And cold -- it was so cold. A part of her had been gouged out and she hadn’t even noticed. Not until now.

 “Hanako-kun,” her voice shook. “Hanako-kun -- my stomach--”

 She’d been stabbed.

 She’d been stabbed  —  

 She’d been stabbed.

“Yashiro!” Hanako’s voice brought her back, grounding her. He pulled her against him tightly, his body a solid anchor within the chaos that had begun to swirl inside of her. Her visage flickered, as though she were nothing more than a candle about to be snuffed out. “Yashiro! Stay focused! I know -- I know this can be confusing at first,” his fingers ran through her hair, brushing through the strands like he had done before when he had come to harass her during her English class before. “It sometimes takes awhile to get a sense of yourself again.” His grip on her was crushing, but she relished in the feeling of it. Hanako made sense, even if none of this did. “Focus on me, okay?”

 She could do that. Nene closed her eyes, breathed deeply. She filled lungs that no longer required air, and shook like a leaf in the autumn wind. The air felt crisp as she inhaled, just as it always had. Nothing felt any different. She could still feel all of her limbs. She had two hands, two legs, and two feet. She could feel Hanako as she clung to him, nails digging into the fabric of his old school uniform. “Hanako-kun,” she said when she finally trusted herself to speak. “What happened?”

 Silence.

 He didn’t answer -- not at first. No, he simply buried his face into her hair.  Inhaling deeply, then he released a ragged breath that seemed to be ripped from his chest. When he pulled back, meeting her gaze, his eyes were set with a sort of weary, grim determination. 

 And she knew.

 She knew without him even having to say it. Though, the words still knocked the wind out of her when they finally did come. 

 “You died, Yashiro.”

 No -- dying hadn’t been dramatic. But... what had come after was.

 ---------

 Days seemed to blend into one another over the next few weeks, each night dying into day again and again. 

 Rinse and repeat. 

 Nene was never quite sure if she was awake or not. She had read about narcolepsy for class once. She thought that what she was experiencing now was most similar to that. There were fleeting moments of consciousness. She would blink and awaken back at the school, before blinking again and finding herself back in a sea of darkness that was thicker than the blackest of nights. 

 When she was awake, Hanako was usually never far away.

 He’d appear minutes after she did, a bone weary and hollow guilt etched into his eyes as he always encouraged the same thing over and over again.

 “Pass on, Yashiro.”

 She didn’t listen, of course.

-------

 Nene came to realize rather quickly that coming to terms with your own death was quite the shock. The awareness of one’s own demise didn’t come right away. No, your body did everything in its power to maintain that illusion of life. She still felt things, phantom sensations of what should be. She couldn’t feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, but something within her brain (soul? She didn’t have a brain anymore -- that had died with her physical body) told her that the rays would brush against her skin like a sultry embrace, and so she perceived it as such. She didn’t have skin to feel the coolness of the wind sweeping over her, and yet, she shivered. Her chest burned when she held her breath, yearning for oxygen that she couldn’t breathe. Though, gradually --

 Those sensations…

 Started.

 To.

 Fade.

 Her awareness was even more fleeting.

 From the moment that she realized that she was dead, Nene had trouble maintaining her form. She would simply blink in and out of existence. Here one minute -- gone the next. She would often wake back up in the school -- by the entrance, in the practice garden, right in the middle of her old homeroom class. Masaki-sensei would be in the middle of a lesson. Aoi would be sitting in class, scribbling notes with a far off and misty look in her eye. She’d never see her, of course.

 No one did.

 Her desk had been outright removed from the class. An empty spot in the classroom was the only acknowledgement that she had once existed. Though, perhaps that wasn’t the only reminder. No one sat where her desk had once stood. When students walked past that spot, they would cast a sad, pitying glance towards it. She’d hear whispers when there was a lull in the lesson. They were always the same words. Whispers that were as loud as screams echoed throughout the entire school -- building to a crescendo that was impossible to ignore.

 Poor Nene-chan.

 It was always the same. 

 Did you hear how she died? She was found stabbed in the school courtyard! Isn’t that awful?

 Poor Nene-chan, indeed. 

 “Insensitive, isn’t it?” A soft, yet almost dreary voice spoke to her. Nene blinked. She was in the school hallway now. How frustrating! She couldn’t seem to get a hold of herself. Her sense of self was off, just as Hanako had said. She was worried that she would disappear for good if she wasn’t careful. “The way that humans discuss the dead has always left something to be desired.” That voice sounded so familiar.

 It gave Nene something to grasp. A familiar voice -- soft, distant, and feminine. 

 “Nanamine-senpai!” Nene found her voice, yelping out loud as she finally noticed the girl standing right in front of her. It was as though Nanamine-senpai had been out of focus, a blurry image in a camera that she had been unable to discern until that very moment. Her head just felt so foggy. Was she disappearing? 

 You are dead, a fact her mind was quick to remind herself of. You shouldn’t even still be here.

 “You haven’t crossed over yet,” Nanamine-senpai observed. She leaned against the adjacent wall, hands folded neatly across her chest. She was as beautiful as always, resembling a painting more than a person -- a beautiful piece of art that had been handcrafted and placed into the real world. Perhaps that was why she seemed so doll-like, her movements perfectly precise, her voice like a distant dream. The sunlight filtering in through the windows from the hallway bathed her in a warm, honey-like hue. “Perhaps you should.”

 “Hanako-kun….said the same thing…” Speaking was difficult. It was as though her tongue was laden with lead. It was difficult to remember how to form her words, like there were some kind of delay between her thoughts and her mouth. Then again, she didn’t have a real mouth anymore. 

 Dead. 

 She was dead.

 Her insides shuddered, squirming at that thought. She could feel herself flicker again -- her consciousness fading to darkness before finding purchase in the school’s hallways once more. Sakura still stood there, watching her. “You should listen to him,” the elder girl advised. “Nothing good comes from remaining bound here.” Her tone became almost wistful. She turned slightly, glancing out of the nearby window, as a caged bird would stare longingly outside of the gaps in its cage. 

 “I wish that I had known that, before.” 

 Before? Before what? Nene wanted to ask what she meant by that, but the words never seemed to reach her lips.

 The other girl didn’t elaborate on her meaning, either. Instead, she took her hand in hers, holding it in a similar manner to the way that she had back in the tea room Boundary. Imploring, asking for understanding. “Go, Yashiro-san.” 

 “Go where?” Nene rasped, her form trembling as her hand squeezed around Nanamine’s. “Where do I have to go?”

 There was nowhere to go now. There was nothing to do. There was nothing to be. She was stuck, frozen in place from the moment that she had been stabbed. Nene had a whole list of things that she had wanted to do before she died. She’d wanted to get a boyfriend, get her first kiss, go on a date. Maybe one day she’d grow into a sexy older woman with men fawning all over her. One day she might’ve even gotten married!

 Nene had wanted to stream Space Hamsters Strike Back on her laptop, curled up beside Hanako on the floor of his bathroom. She’d wanted to watch his eyes light up as he watched all of the modern special effects. Nene had heard that the effects made it feel like you were really in space while you were watching. She had downloaded the movie, and planned to bring her laptop with her the day after they had gone after the Amanojaku. 

 She wanted to see him get all excited about the stars, telling her all of the facts that he knew like the back of his hand. When he was like that, the mask of Hanako fell away until he was only Amane -- a boy who wanted to be an astronaut. The boy who wanted to go to the moon or to Scorpius. The boy whose life had been cut far too short.

 Kind of like her.

 A tight knot formed in her chest. Right where her heart would have been if she still had one. It felt as though her feet were cast in iron, given a weight that she hadn’t felt since she was alive.

 “So, you’ve made your choice,” Nanamine-senpai murmured, watching her with hooded, secretive eyes.

 Her choice? Nene clung to the sick feeling of sloshing acid that formed in the pit of her stomach. It was real. It anchored her in place -- kept her from disappearing, even as her consciousness began to slowly fade.

 “Staying isn’t always the better option,” she informed her, dropping her hand. Her lips curled into a sad smile. “A wish cannot always be granted. Even if it is, it might just chain you in place. You can become imprisoned by that wish.”

 Nene didn’t understand. How could a wish become a prison? 

 “Nanamine-senpai,” Nene asked quietly. “How do you know that?”

 The older girl remained quiet, her eyes holding an answer that Nene didn’t want to acknowledge. Why do you think that I know, they questioned. Tsukasa-kun was a supernatural who only granted wishes to spirits, after all. How else had Nanamine-senpai been able to form a bond with him if she didn’t already intimately understand the danger of such wishes? Her wish had become the elder girl’s shackles.

 Crimson eyes widened, understanding dawning within them. “Nanamine-senpai…. Are you…?”

 “It doesn’t matter what I am, anymore,” Nanamine’s voice was clipped. She didn’t want to talk about that, then. “Every wish comes with a cost. Are you prepared to make such a sacrifice, Yashiro-san?”

 Was she?

 “You all keep saying that!” Her form flickered. Here and then not -- as though she had glitched out of reality. “You tell me it’s better to pass on! Then you say that it’s up to me to make a choice! Make up your minds already!” All of the frustration at the unfairness of the situation erupted.

 Stupid supernaturals! They kept things from her, tried to force her to make decisions that she didn’t want to make, and all looked at her with that hopeless, resigned expression that she had come to loathe. 

 It was all too much.

 She was still just too young. Before meeting Hanako her biggest concern had been her thick ankles and whether the boy she liked would return her feelings! Nene had been thrust into a world far more complex and layered than she had ever been able to fathom before. A world of wishes, apparitions and separate pockets of reality where all manner of creatures roamed, and all of her older concerns seemed paltry in comparison. Still, she had toed the line of the Near Shore and Far Shore for so long that she had come to love this dark world, filled to the brim with ancient legends and rules that were too difficult for her to comprehend.  

 It had always been her destiny to die.

 Though, that didn’t mean that she needed to fade away, either.

 Hanako. She thought of his sad, remorseful eyes. He had promised her a wish that he hadn’t been able to grant. He must be agonizing over that. He probably felt as though he had failed. 

 Did he always feel shackled by his wishes? Like Nanamine-senpai? Had her own wish added yet another chain to the restraints that bound him? 

 There were two paths laid before her, and while she knew what the easiest choice would be, she found herself yearning for the other more treacherous road that offered her nothing but overgrown thickets and branches that could easily snag her into place. It was a merciless path. Perhaps she’d even end up as bound as the rest of the apparitions who frequented this school.

 Even so....

 Hanako was at the end of this road, wasn’t he? 

 Nanamine-senpai smiled, a slight slither that seemed almost cut onto her face with knives. “Just remember this, Yashiro-san--” The girl leaned closer, resting her hand on her shoulder. She squeezed it, though Nene was unsure if the gesture was meant to be comforting or not. 

 “ You’re a spirit of the Far Shore now, Yashiro-san. That means if you stay long enough to manifest a wish…”

 Nanamine-senpai didn’t even need to finish her sentence.

 Nene knew.

 “He’ll come to grant it.” 

 Strangely enough -- that didn’t frighten her. At least, not completely. 

 -------

 And come, he did.

 Nene wasn’t surprised to see Tsukasa when he finally sought her out. Her wish had already manifested, building itself in her heart until her entire spirit was consumed by it. It sang its song in every molecule of her form, making sure that even if she vanished, she was never gone for long. This time, she was on the roof of the old school building. She opened her eyes, and could see the sun shining down on her, even if she couldn’t feel its rays. The wind blew against her, causing her hair to blow across her face.

 “Aaaaaaaaaaaah!” A loud, boisterous voice cried out. She recognized it immediately, flinching as her hands balled into fists. “Amane’s assistant died! You really died! I mean -- I knew that you would, but that’s a lot faster than I was expecting!” He laughed, floating in the air before flying above her, lowering himself so that his face was right in front of hers as he hung upside down. It was an action that reminded her almost too cruelly of Hanako. The boy had his face, after all, even if that was where the similarities ended. 

 He stared down at the wound that had yet to repair itself in her chest. “Hey! Someone stabbed you! Squish!” He reached for her, mimicking the stabbing motion with his hand. She grimaced, but she took a step away from him, eyes narrowed as she covered the wound with one of her hands. “Hey, when you got stabbed, did it make that sound? It kind of sounds like that, right?”

 She didn’t want to think about that -- or the sound of it.

 “Tsukasa-kun…” Nene said hesitantly, watching him with wary eyes. 

 “That must’ve broken Amane’s heart,” he giggled, eyes closed and grinning wide. He had a smile that was like a wild animal, all teeth -- a warning. “Did he make a good face?” She didn’t like it when he spoke like this, eyes darker than the obsidian. “I wish I could’ve seen that!”

 She didn’t answer his question, her mind flashing back to Hanako’s face as she had died. No -- it hadn’t been a good face, at all. She bit into her lip -- hard.  “You’re here for a reason, aren’t you, Tsukasa-kun?” She was sure that if she was still alive, she would’ve ran from him. She would’ve cowered away and called for Hanako, probably. All of those fears seemed so far away now, like a distant memory. Tsukasa would do as he pleased, whether it was favorable for her or not. 

 Her words seem to snap him back to attention. “Yes! Your heart called me. You have a wish, don’t you?” He had such large eyes -- round and wide until they thinned, pupils zeroing in on her. Malicious curiosity shone within them, as though he were looking right through her. It was as though he were peering into her soul. She forced herself not to cower from him even if there was still a part of her that wanted to run and cry. “I do,” she answered, voice trembling.

 Well, dead or not -- she couldn’t change her crybaby ways completely. 

 “You know what it is already, don’t you?” Nene’s hands clenched around the hem of her skirt. 

 “I do,” he sang as koku-jodai danced around him. The orbs were just as excitable as he was. “You want to stay with Amane, right? You want to be with him from the bottom of your heart!”

 His smile softened, startling her as he moved closer, invading her space. She wasn’t able to move away quickly enough as he grabbed both of her hands, entwining their fingers the same way that Hanako had done back when he had first granted her wish.  “You want to make him happy.” She didn’t expect him to look like that. He almost seemed like his twin at that point -- kind and gentle, though those words were not what she would’ve ever chosen to describe Tsukasa. 

 Why was he behaving this way? She had almost expected to be run through or hurt in some way. Though, she remembered even he had stopped himself from hurting her at one point. You’re not supposed to hurt girls. Had Hanako told him that? 

 She nodded, “Y-Yes.” She wished she could get her treacherous voice under control. 

 “Are you scared?” he asked cheekily, grinning as he stuck his tongue out at her. “I won’t hurt you. I’m here to grant your wish. And well… I like your wish.” 

 That made her pause. He… liked her wish? 

 “What--?”

 “We both want Amane to be happy.” He flew above her, koku-jodai practically vibrating as they circled him, glowing darkly as his power gathered. His response only served to further confuse her. He wanted Hanako to be happy? If that was the case, then why did he torment his brother? He had called them arch-enemies before. Rivals -- and yet, it seemed as though Tsukasa-kun genuinely wanted to help her. Hanako's eyes were always so sad and regretful whenever he saw him. A question formed in her throat, scratching at her vocal chords. “Do you really?”

 “Yeah!” He stretched his arms out wide, as though he were going to fall to the ground and make a snow angel. “He and I are playing a game, but that’s not really what I’m here to talk about, is it?” He tapped his lip with his index finger, smirking as sharp fangs bared themselves. 

 She would get no more answers out of him. 

 A game.

 She wasn’t sure what kind of game he was playing, but Nene was certain that neither Hanako nor the other spirits who got drawn into the web that he cast wanted to be a part of it. You’re confusing, Tsukasa-kun, she thought sadly, lips drawing into a deep frown. She wondered if anyone truly understood the boy in front of her. The members of his little broadcasting group didn’t seem to, all drawn together by the wishes that they had made to him, with the exception of Natsuhiko-senpai. She wasn’t sure why he was there, to be honest. Had Hanako understood him at some point? 

 Would she ever really know? 

 “Your price has already manifested. I’ve granted you an audience, so be sure not to be boring and disappoint me!” 

 An audience?! With whom?

 She didn’t get the chance to ask him what he meant before the floor opened up underneath her.

 “T-Tsukasa-kun!” she cried out, flailing out, trying to grab onto something to no avail.

 “Bye-Bye!” He waved at her, and then --

 Lights out. 

 -------

 The next time Nene awakened, she was surrounded by a pitch black void. 

 There was nothing in this abyss -- nothing but emptiness and vast space. There was nothing to feel here, nothing to think; nothing but everlasting and far stretching darkness as distant as the eye could see. She wondered if this was the true afterlife. Was this where she was supposed to be? Was she only clinging to her worldly desires, tethering herself to the Near Shore when all that actually awaited her was an endless abyss? 

 Her final resting place.

 It was almost peaceful. If she let herself, she could drift off into an endless, calm slumber. There would be no more pain. No more suffering. No more agonizing about her life, cut far too short. She hadn’t even had her first kiss. How cruel was that? Sixteen years old and deader than a doornail. Sleeping was much too tempting.. She could feel the desire tugging at her chest. It’d be so easy to simply close her eyes and drift off into nothingness. It’d be so easy. So peaceful. Right. This was fate, wasn’t it?

 Her eyes were so heavy.

 Maybe she could take just a little nap?

 She could think about it more later.

 “It’s kind of nostalgic -- like having a friend again.”

 Nene’s eyes snapped open almost as suddenly as they had started to drift closed, suddenly alert. No. She couldn’t leave -- not yet. Not when Hanako was still tethered to the third floor girl’s bathroom of the old school building. She couldn’t believe that she had almost forgotten about him! No, she couldn’t fade away. Not while Hanako’s eyes still held that haunted, tired look as though he had seen more lifetimes than she could count. He was dead -- and yet, he couldn’t rest.

 If he couldn’t rest, then neither should she. 

 Hanako wanted a friend. Hanako was lonely -- bound to his duty, to a penance that seemed far too great to burden a fourteen year old boy with. He’s a murderer, she reminded herself. That was true. Hanako had killed, but as she thought back to the way that he had looked on the floor of that empty classroom, all covered in bruises and bloody marks, bandages covering older wounds that had no business marring his skin, she couldn’t find it within herself to blame him. He had never told her why he had killed his brother, nor had he ever told her what had happened to him all those years ago.

 There just hadn’t been enough time.

 “Pass on, Yashiro.”

 No, she couldn’t rest yet. 

 Hanako’s words only served to piss her off. He was always talking like that, making it seem as though all the dead had to look forward to was annihilation. He was a slave to rules and order -- what should be. There was still so much to do! Hanako was still at Kanome, after all. If he was there, then she would have no choice but to stay as well. She was his assistant and his friend. What would he do without her? He had urged her to move on, but that was just him being his normal, self-sacrificing self. Of course he’d say that. He was determined to make himself miserable, but Nene would be damned if she let that continue. 

 She wouldn’t.

 Hanako needed to be protected, too!

 That thought filled her like air, grounding her -- providing her with an alertness that kept her steady even in the recesses of this abyss. 

 Poor little lost spirit. Why do you scoff at death? 

 Nene could hear a voice in that abyss. It was a whisper, something that slid gently against the edges of her consciousness. It beckoned, called to her sweetly as she imagined a lover would. It was insistent, and yet too soft for her to discern its words until it slowly became more clear and present. That was, at least until the voice slowly became clear and present. It filled the space with an energy that rocked her to her core. It demanded attention now, as though it had grown tired of being ignored. She wasn’t alone here, and yet whatever she shared this space with was just out of her grasp. Nene grasped at air that wasn’t there, reaching -- searching for that voice.

 Hear me, Spirit. I am here with you.

 “I’m not alone?” Nene asked as she finally found her voice. There was an echo when she spoke, one that seemed to vibrate throughout the dark abyss, filling each of the spaces as it reverberated again and again. “Who are you?” 

 There was a rumble in the darkness, something deep and warm -- like laughter. 

 That is the question, isn’t it? Funny, how those who come here never seem to know the answer to that question. 

 Was the voice talking in riddles? Nene had never been very good at solving those. She wasn’t sure who this person was -- but who did you talk to when you finally died? The answer hit her suddenly, and she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it right away. “Are you God?”

 The rumble was back, ouder this time, and it shook her as it reverberated through her like ripples of a raging river. Was it… amused by her? 

 Some have called me that. That seems to be the only thing humans can come up with, at least.  I’m not God -- or anything of the sort. 

 She didn’t understand. If this voice wasn’t God, then what was it? She panicked for a moment, flailing out into the void wildly out in fear. If not God -- then was it a demon?! She didn’t voice that thought, but it seemed to recognize her fear, regardless. The laughter is deep and echoing.

 I am from this land. You died on my land, and so you are tied here. Your soul refuses to pass on. 

 That much was true. She still had things that she needed to do, after all. If Hanako was still at Kamome, then she needed to be there, too. She was sure of it, even more sure than she had been when Hanako had tried to lock her away in the picture perfect world. She hadn’t belonged there. Even with the news of her impending death, she wanted to live with him in the real world. That wish hadn’t changed. 

 You are a funny human. I’m quite curious -- who are you?

 Nene sputtered, “Me?”

 Yes, you. You have yet to fade away. You have yet to accept death. You even solicited the help of that apparition to appear here. Why is that?

 Why couldn’t she accept death? 

 She knew the answer to that question immediately. 

 “My name is Yashiro Nene.” Her voice was like steel as she spoke, steadier than it had ever been.  “ I have someone that I can’t leave behind,” she answered firmly. 

 The void pulsed. She could hear a subtle sound, like the beating of a heart that only increased in volume until her ears rang from it.

 You are a lucky one, little spirit. Your fate has been tied to that of another. It is a bond that transcends even death.

 A bond that transcended death? She had heard that before, hadn’t she? 

 I’ve heard your wish, spirit -- Don’t come to regret it.

 -- And then, a star burst into a kaleidoscope of colors before her eyes, illuminating the darkness. 

 ------------

 “Hey, have you heard this rumor? There’s a mermaid that lives in the outdoor pool --”

 -------------

[kusunogatari]

[ There’s Always a Mess ] [ @abyssaldespair​ ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Hatake Kakashi ] [ Vulgarity, blood ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ]

He’s always the last to know about anything.

True, his role isn’t exactly high up on the corporate ladder, but he’s still involved in the most basic parts of this place. The fact that they keep things like this from him is irritating, to say the least. How’s he supposed to do his job if the core mechanics are kept from him?

A janitor has to know his workplace!

For a month, the aquarium is kept under the tightest security he’s ever seen - a new exhibit, being built fairly close to the entrance, has everyone hushed up. And Obito really has no idea what the fuss is about. Even if it’s some rare specimen, then...whoop de doo. It’s still just a fish. Or maybe a mammal. Whatever. The point is, despite being the head of the sanitation department, he isn’t being told what the hell is going on. Which, to him, seems irresponsible. He’s going to have to know how to keep up this new exhibit, after all!

Maybe the grandeur is a bit lost on him. This wasn’t exactly his dream career, after all. But a teenagehood of delinquency and a few small charges as a young man left a bit of a stain on his record, and...well, this is the best he could manage. And Obito is a stubborn guy. So all he could do was become a janitor? Then he was going to be the best damn janitor he could be! And lo and behold, a mere five years after getting his GED and landing this job, he leads his department. Sure, it isn’t glamorous...but he’s independent. What else could he ask for?

...besides maybe some kind of social life.

His best friend is a teacher, and they meet up every so often, but...Kakashi’s life is a stone’s throw from Obito’s now. Their circles have diverged.

And telling girls he’s a janitor at an aquarium hasn’t exactly landed him any second dates, either.

But that’s all besides the point. Because today is the day. The big reveal is tomorrow, and the staff are finally being briefed on the new exhibit. About damn time, in Obito’s opinion. He’s going to have to adjust everyone’s schedules to cover an entirely new exhibit on top of everything else, allocate supplies...ugh.

They go department by department to cover what each will need to know, and of course custodial is last. And...to Obito’s surprise, he’s the only one asked inside the board room. Great. They’re leaving the work of filling in everyone else to him, rather than doing it themselves.

Jerks.

Still, he doesn’t let his grouchiness show, heading in and taking a seat.

“All right, Obito,” the director begins, standing on the opposite side of the table, hands gripping the spine of a chair. “So we’re doing a bit of an...adjustment in your department for this new attraction.”

...oh no. What’s that supposed to mean? “Uh...all right.”

“You will be the only custodial staff - at least for groundwork - allowed into the exhibit. The actual tank crews are a separate unit of course, and they’ve already been briefed. But given your...history with this business, we’re entrusting it to you, and you alone.”

A dark brow perks in question. “I’m...glad you trust me, but...is it really so important?”

“Oh, we’ll get to that. But first -” the man hands over a new keycard, which Obito accepts “- your new security clearance for the exhibit.”

“...thanks.”

“And I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear you’ll be getting a raise, as well. Another quarter on the dollar!”

Okay, that...actually surprises him. “...thank you, sir.”

“Now…” The director smiles, and Obito knows that smile. It’s the smile of a man expecting to make a lot of money. The only question is...how? “Our latest exhibit is one of a species never before seen by mankind. Something that, until a few months ago, was thought to be little more than a legend.”

Obito just...awaits a reveal. What, like...a giant squid? Godzilla?

“We are the first aquarium in the world to have, on display...a living, breathing mermaid.”

Obito blinks. And...blinks again. “Wait, you’re...you’re serious?”

“Completely. Now, some places have put on shows with actresses pretending to be one, and it works for kids...but this is the real deal, Obito.” The grin remains firmly in place. “Now, unfortunately...I can’t let you in to see her quite yet, but you will! You’ll be working after hours only to get things all tidied up, and keep interference with the guests to an absolute minimum. The tank crews will come in before we open, so you won’t have to worry about them getting in your way, or vice versa. You’ll have from closing at eight until midnight to work on her area seven days a week, and then you’ll have another four hours during the day for three days in the rest of the aquarium as per usual. That way you’re still full time: none of your benefits will be impacted. Does that sound agreeable?”

...huh. For some reason it just...isn’t hitting him. Maybe because so far this is all just talk, and he hasn’t seen it yet. “...yes, sir.”

“Wonderful! Then all you’ll have to do tomorrow is be here for the after hours work: we’ll ease you into it. The rest of the schedule you can work out with your department. I can’t wait for you to meet her!”

Obito manages a brief, mostly-forced smile before standing, shaking the director’s hand, and...being excused to finish his shift. Looking down at his new keycard, he can’t help but...frown.

...a mermaid, huh? Well that’s...neat.

Glancing back to the door, he then just...carries on to the rest of his shift, doing so quietly as he’s lost in thought. At least he can sleep in tomorrow. He’s worked nights before, and honestly he sort of prefers it. And working alone will be nice. But still, something about this all just seems...well, odd. It’s like someone telling him that yes, a pig really did fly today, and they’re now displaying it at the local zoo.

Partly he just can’t believe it. And the rest of him, after a bit of thought, realizes that it...bothers him. Of course the first thing humans would do with something like this is make a spectacle out of it. What if the thing is intelligent? Sentient? It’d be like putting any other human being in a cage and gawking at it!

...well, maybe it’s just an animal. And maybe being somewhere with security is better than the poor thing being pulled apart and studied by some scientist somewhere.

He’ll just have to see tomorrow.

Either way, he heads back to his apartment after his shift, still partially off as the rest of his day passes. But eventually he manages to shove his thoughts aside enough to sleep.

...then he has another entire day to wait.

It’s a Saturday, and that means extra crowds even if they weren’t debuting a brand new exhibit. He can only imagine how things are going to explode once word gets out, especially online. Sitting and sullenly sipping his coffee, Obito wonders if there are any others, or if this is the only one. Surely there must be...they wouldn’t give the only specimen away like that. They’d want at least some behind closed doors...to be studied, like he thought yesterday.

It makes him grimace.

By the time he’s expected to be there, Obito’s been lingering outside the exhibit for twenty minutes, not quite daring to go in yet despite his clearance. Only once another member of the staff briefs him does he muster up the courage.

“So just follow the standard procedures of the rest of the building. All the supplies are in a marked closet, and are for use in this area only. Need anything else, just radio.”

“Er...thanks.” Watching them go, he looks to the entry doors.

A true-to-life Ariel! a sign proclaims with a rather exaggerated silhouette of a woman half-human, half fish.

Well...here goes nothing.

The first thing he notes? This place is huge…! A tank bigger than any other in the aquarium sits along the left side, with a shape that curves in and out along a path that follows around the entire edge to a door on the other end. Informational signs are atop pedestals every few feet, the glass reaching from floor to ceiling: fifteen feet high. Even from here, he can’t see how much depth the tank has across, but he can tell it’s above and beyond the rest by far.

Lights illuminate the water, and very slowly, Obito steps further into the room. At first...he doesn’t see anything. Sand fills the bottom of the exhibit, dotted with rocks, coral, aquatic plants, and ridiculous decorations like fake shipwrecks. At least she has places to hide…

Which...he supposes explains why he can’t see her. Following the walkway slowly, he scans the water as best he can to no avail.

Seems she’s done for the day.

...he can’t help but be disappointed.

Either way, he has a job to do. There’s a fair amount of trash - to be expected, given the sheer volume of people that likely made their way through here today. He starts there, picking up as much refuse as he can by hand with his gloves before moving on to vacuuming, and then mopping.

All the while, he gives curious glances up.

Still nothing.

...she is in there, right?

Sighing to himself, he keeps going, eventually losing himself more in the task than his curiosity. Only once he goes from one end to the other and replaces his supplies for glass cleaner and a long-handled scrubber does he freeze.

From the porthole of the sunken ship, he can see mirror-like reflections. Two of them. Just...staring at him.

...he stares back.

They don’t blink, which...unsettles him. But after several minutes of a stalemate, he shifts a bit. Still no reaction, and it’s getting late.

Carefully, he turns to head back toward the entrance. Maybe it’s not her, just...something for people to think is her, to keep them...occupied? Either way, he starts spraying down the glass. Though there’s a railing serving as a buffer, it’s still littered with handprints. Wonderful. Using the handled mop, he wipes from top to bottom in a long-practiced manner.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, a dart of movement!

Startling, he almost drops the mop, clinging to it and watching. Something dips into a small forest of kelp, and he stares, doing his best not to blink, should he miss it.

Then, very slowly, a dainty pair of hands part through the greenery, urging it aside to peer out dolefully. Like before, a pair of eyes look like silver mirrors, almost a bit too large for her pale face, which he can barely see in the shifting expanse of kelp.

For a moment, he almost forgets to breathe.

They both linger, unmoving, for several minutes, studying one another. Then, ever so slowly, she makes her way out from her hiding place.

From her scalp grow pure white, wavy tresses that float freely in the water. Her skin is nearly snowy, almost translucent, which flows seamlessly into the colorless, shining scales of her tail. Unlike the traditional mermaid’s tail that lays flat like a whale’s, hers is more like an actual fish: upright, waving slowly side to side to propel her forward. And unlike her small cousins, her gills rest not in her neck...but along her ribcage on either side, just beneath the line of her bust.

...which Obito then notices is very much nude, and he can’t help but go bright red.

But she keeps watching him, her expression almost akin to a curious child. Approaching the glass, she softly lets a palm rest against the surface.

Her fingers are webbed.

Still clutching his mop, Obito isn’t sure what to do. But after a pause, he very carefully lifts his own hand - still covered in a protective glove.

...it makes hers look so small.

Head tilting, she seems to consider the size, peering at it curiously. Then her eyes lift to the mop, and her pupils grow to a nearly ridiculous size.

At once he’s reminded of those pouncing cat videos, and...Obito gets an idea. Slowly, as not to startle her, he lowers it back to the glass.

She moves to follow it, palm to the surface.

Then he moves it to the right.

She follows.

To the left.

Follows.

In spite of himself, he grins. Spraying more cleaner, he starts scrubbing...and the mermaid gives chase. Like a kitten with a ball on a string, she darts to and fro in pursuit, Obito ramping up his speed until he’s running up and down the walkway like a madman, the mermaid easily keeping up and trying to catch her fabric quarry. Unable to help laughing aloud, he goes until he’s completely out of breath, leaning back against the wall and sliding to sit along the floor.

Sinking to the sand, she lays along her belly and patiently waits, watching him.

“...well, at least I know you’re playful,” he muses, wagging the mop and observing her eyes tracing its movements. Still grinning as he taunts her, there’s a pause as he notices something.

...she’s got some kind of...collar on.

Brow furrowing, he lifts to his feet, setting aside his supplies. She almost looks disappointed, staring at the discarded mop before looking to him. Obito cranes, trying to look more closely at her neck.

Understanding brightens her, and then...she dims. Adjusting her posture, she lifts her chin, putting her throat on full display. A webbed hand gently brushes against it.

It’s a ring of metal clasped tightly to her neck. Practically putting his nose to the glass, Obito squints. It almost looks like…?

Sorrow pinches her expression, and a turn aside of her head shows him what really makes the collar wicked: it’s screwed into her neck. Puncturing her skin!

Why?!

Obito can’t help but gape openly. What the hell is that supposed to accomplish besides being extremely painful? Is it some kind of...method of control? Tracking? Can’t they do something like a microchip instead, like with pets? What reason do they have for being so, so...barbaric?

Seeing his aghast expression, she wilts. Laying her hand against the glass, a look of somber defeat darkens her face.

“...I’m so sorry.”

Though muted through the glass, she hears him speak, glancing up.

“...I’ve got something a bit like that,” Obito offers. Holding his arm aloft, he rolls back his sleeve, showing scars. “I’ve got, er...pins. In my bones. Some plates, too. From a wreck when I was younger. Screws holding things together, but…” His brow furrows, lowering the limb back down. “...that’s not what those are for, is it?”

To his surprise, she sadly shakes her head.

...she...she understands him…?

“Then...what does it do?”

She looks hesitant. Apparently she can’t speak, which...makes sense. Or maybe he can’t hear her? Either way, she doesn’t attempt to explain verbally. Instead, she brings her hand back to the glass, thumping lightly.

After a confused pause, he does the same.

Her other hand makes a tugging motion, so he removes his glove.

A few more times, she pounds the glass, pointing from her hand, to his. Then to her tail, and his legs.

...wait…

“...you...you can change shape? You mean you can look like a human?”

She brightens, nodding quickly. But then webbed hands wrap around her throat with a pained expression.

“...that...keeps you from changing?”

Another nod.

“But...how?”

Looking at a loss, she shakes her head. Apparently that’s too complicated to pantomime.

“...so you are a person. And they know that. And yet...you’re in here. To make them money…” He spits the last word. “What the fuck is wrong with them…”

She doesn’t have an answer.

“...and you can’t get that off, can you?”

A shake of her head.

“Get me in there with some bolt cutters, I’d get that thing off…” He fades into grumbling, actually considering heading in to the tank team’s access point. But something tells him he likely doesn’t have clearance.

No wonder security has been such a big deal…and he knows well enough this is all going on camera.

But once he quiets, Obito realizes this is...all a bit much. So, mermaids are real. They can change their shape, which doesn’t sound possible. What else is out there that humans believe to be fantasy that he doesn’t know about? Vampires, werewolves, hell maybe dragons…? It all makes his head spin a bit, and he leans his brow against the glass with a grunt.

Looking sympathetic, the mermaid does the same, mimicking his posture.

“...I feel like a really shitty person just leaving you in there,” he mutters. “But what can I do about it? I don’t even think I can get in there...let alone know what to do with you once I do. At best I get fired, at worst I get sued into the ground or like...hitman’d for messing with something this big. I mean...a mermaid? That’s...that’s huge!”

All she can do is listen, just as unsure.

“You think there’d be people upset about all this…”

“Well well...I had a feeling I’d end up running into you.”

Startling at the voice despite its familiarity, Obito straightens and gawks. “K...Kakashi? What...what the hell -?”

“I’m here on a little business from my side job,” the other man replies, giving a smile. “Lo and behold, you happen to be involved.”

“Side job? But...you’re a teacher. What are you -?”

“It’s a long story, and I’m afraid there isn’t much time to explain it now,” Kakashi cuts in. “And in fact...having you involved is a bit of a legal matter, but...well, given how out of control this has gotten at all, it’s a bit hard to avoid. I don’t think the Senators are going to kill that many people…”

Obito just...blinks. What the hell is he talking about? Senators? Killing people?! “What’s going on?”

“I’m here to get the little lady out. Y’see...her being seen by humans is a bit of an issue. Not that it was her fault, but a mess is a mess, and I’m good at cleaning them up. A bit like you, but...well, less literally.”

“I...I don’t…”

“I don’t expect you to comprehend on such short notice, but since you’re here...and since you’re being oh so sympathetic...you could lend me a hand, Obito.”

“With what? Getting her out?”

“You work here, don’t you?”

“Yeah, cleaning floors! I don’t have permission to -!”

“Well, ‘permission’ won’t exactly cover what I’m going to do anyway,” Kakashi assures him, a finger to his lips. “More like...assisted breaking and entering. Don’t worry, the security feed is already offline, but that’ll attract attention in and of itself. So I need to be quick. Do you know how to get into the tank?”

“Er...no -?”

“Then I’ll figure it out myself. Unless you feel like helping.” As Kakashi turns to start looking, there’s a pause as Obito grabs his shoulder.

“What’s really going on here?”

Silver brows lift in mild surprise. “...stick around, and maybe I’ll tell you. But for now I’m on a bit of a tight schedule. Hm?”

Hesitating for a moment, Obito then sighs. Well...so much for that raise. He doesn’t understand - especially how the hell Kakashi is involved - but if this’ll help her, then...fine. “...all right. I’ll help.”

“Great! First thing’s first: find a way in, get her out, get that nasty silver business out of her neck, and then make our escape. Simple as that.” With that, Kakashi takes long strides toward a door labeled, “Employees Only”. To Obito’s surprise, his offered keycard opens it. “Now...let’s see…” Up a ladder Kakashi goes, and up into the second floor that sits above the full tanks. Every so often is a hatch used to get down into them. “This looks to be around the right spot…” Squatting and examining the mechanism, Kakashi turns a wheel much like that in a submarine, loosening it until he can lift it and reveal the tank below. “Perfect! Come on over here, sweetheart - we’ll get you loose. But first, that nasty collar…”

Below them, the woman swims up to the gap, breaching her head but keeping her ribs (and therefore her gills) under the surface.

From a bag on his belt, Kakashi pulls a wicked set of cutters. “All right...hold still...this is going to sting like a bitch.” Ever so carefully, he slips the blades around the metal, giving a snip. She flinches, and then there’s a gasp as he starts to ease out the screws from her neck. Tears quickly well up in her eyes, sliding down already-wet cheeks. A shudder of pain racks her form, reflexively palming at the wounds.

“Shit…” Obito can’t help but swear softly. “What’s that even for?”

“Silver is nasty business for...people like her,” Kakashi offers evasively. “It was keeping her from being able to Shift, or...change form. With it out, she can take a human shape and be able to breathe air, once I get the wounds cleaned from lingering toxicity from the metal.”

“...how do you know all this?”

“Not the time, Obito.”

He scowls, but realizes that no, this isn’t a good time for explanations.

“...I can hear police sirens. I think someone knows I’m here.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Not yet, you don’t.” Applying an ointment to the mermaid’s neck, Kakashi asks, “How about now?”

Closing her eyes, she focuses...and in the time it takes Obito to blink, she’s suddenly keeping herself afloat with legs, not fins. “G-good.”

“All right.” With hardly any effort, Kakashi reaches in and takes her under the arms, lifting her to sit on the lip of the hatch. “Sorry, don’t have any garments for you here.”

“I’d rather be naked than wear that thing another moment,” she assures him, voice barely a whisper.

“Well then, we better go.”

“Er…” Watching Kakashi get up, Obito nonetheless shrugs out of his coat. “...here. It’s...not much, but better than nothing.”

Accepting it, she gives him a soft smile. “...thank you.”

“Come on, you two!”

By now, Obito can hear the sirens, and his heart leaps up to his throat as rather sour memories surface of the last time he tangoed with police. And here he thought he was a changed man… Helping her along, they descend back to the first floor. “Now what?”

“Now we get the hell out. Back door.” In one motion Kakashi scoops the woman up, running to said exit. “You coming or not?”

“...guess I don’t have much choice,” Obito mutters, following. “Do you have a car?”

“Nope.”

“What?!”

“I ran.”

“You...ran.”

“Time for big reveal number two,” Kakashi offers. “Just promise you won’t start hollering.”

“Why would I ho-wHAT THE HELL?!”

Turning and snarling, a silver wolf the size of a small car - standing where Kakashi was just a moment prior - clearly warns him to be quiet.

“I...I think we’re meant to ride him.”

“What -?!”

“There isn’t any time! The humans will be here any moment!” Hoping astride the beast, the woman offers him a hand. “...are you coming?”

For some reason, in the back of his mind, Obito gets the feeling that accepting that grip is going to tear him right out of his life and into a whirlwind of chaos. But...he’s already come this far.

Maybe he was getting a bit tired of ‘normal’.

“...this is fucking nuts,” he replies, but takes her hand anyway, surprised at her strength as she hauls him up behind her.

“Hold on!”

Like a shot, Kakashi takes off, leaping over a rear wall and streaking out through alleyways. Obito chokes on a yelp as he clings to the mermaid, who in turn keeps steadying fistfuls of fur in her hands. Very much conscious of her near-nudity, Obito keeps his eyes crammed shut - and even then, the whipping wind would have him tearing up anyway.

Only once they’re miles from the aquarium, the sounds of sirens far behind them, does Kakashi slow to a stop near what appears to be an abandoned building. Shouldering open a door, he lets the pair off before slinking into another room.

Obito and his new companion stand a bit awkwardly, the former very much avoiding looking at the latter.

“Here.”

“Wha-?” With a small oomph, the woman catches a pile of fabric thrown her way.

Human again, Kakashi finishes belting on a pair of pants, still barefoot and shirtless. “Sorry for the rush. I wasn’t exactly allocated much for this. We had to be quick and quiet given the publicity.”

“No, I...I understand.” Realizing the fabric is indeed clothes, she slips into a rather basic-form dress, shyly making to hand Obito his coat. “...thank you.”

“Keep it. It’s chilly.”

She blinks at him, but...sheepishly puts it back on.

“All right, so…” Kakashi claps his hands together. “Introductions. Kakashi Hatake. School teacher by day, Nightwalker Enforcer by night.”

At that, she balks. “Y-you’re an Enforcer?”

“I am. But not to worry - this was a rescue-only mission, little lady. You’re not under arrest. In fact, we’re working on a safehouse for you.”

Still looking taken aback, she wilts in relief. “...thank you. I’m - I’m Ryū. Ryū Suigin. Obviously a, um...mermallian.”

“Obito Uchiha. Human, and fucking confused,” the last of them then cuts in. “What the hell is going on?”

“A lot more than I can fully explain in a night, but here’s the sparknotes,” Kakashi offers. “You’re a human. Or I’m going to assume you are, given you smell like one and you’ve never presented as a Nightwalker to me. Nightwalkers are what humans call monsters. Werewolves,” he offers, gesturing to himself, “mermallians, harpies, vampires...a whole slew of things. You think we don’t exist because we don’t want you to think we exist. Because when you did, you tried to wipe us out. And by you I mean humans, not...you specifically.”

“...all right.”

“I, as I said, am an Enforcer. Basically Nightwalker police, only a bit more...powerful than what you think of when you hear ‘police’. I work to keep the two worlds separate, and safe. Nightwalkers have laws. We call them Mandates. Those are very extreme rules meant to keep ourselves safe from humans. The most important ones deal with keeping ourselves secret. But...as it would inevitably happen, proof sometimes crops up. Like miss Suigin here being caught. Then people like me are sent to clean up the mess. It’s been a while since we’ve had one this, er...obvious.”

At that, Ryū wilts, and Obito shuffles closer to her protectively. “...so is she in trouble?”

“No. As I said, this wasn’t her doing, and it’s too large-scale to handle as we typically do. In other words, silencing all involved parties. Like I said...our laws are harsh, but they have to be. We’ll start planting doubt and evidence that the whole thing was a hoax. Those crazy newspaper levels of fake. Eventually humans will buy into it, and this will all be swept back under the rug. Until then, she’s in protective custody. And we really need to get those wounds looked at. Silver is nasty, nasty business.”

“...so what about me?”

“...what about you?”

“I’m most certainly going to be fired from my job! Possibly get arrested! My life is -!”

“Ruined? Maybe. In fact, I’d say probably. But, you also helped save an innocent young woman from a lifetime of being gawked at and living in constant pain,” Kakashi cuts in, giving an eye-closing smile. “So...think that was worth it?”

That gets Obito to balk a bit, glancing to Ryū sheepishly. “Of...of course it was.”

“Good! Besides, maybe I can see about helping you out. You did aid an Enforcer in official Senate business. There’s probably a reward for you in there somewhere. At the very least we can probably pull some strings to keep you from being implicated in any crime. A job might be another story, but...maybe for old time’s sake. Now...you two sit tight, and I’ll see what my next move needs to be from my boss.” He gives a mock salute before heading into another room, pulling out a cellphone.

There’s a pregnant pause, and then Obito dares to glance to Ryū. She looks a bit afraid, hands clasped at her front and fiddling slightly. His eyes then draw to her neck, which is still flushed and angry around the puncture wounds.

Anger simmers in his gut at the sight, and it solidifies his resolve all the more. “...are you all right?”

Startling slightly, she looks to him before wilting. “I...I’ve just been rather, um...out of sorts the last few months…” Her tone is still so soft, and he can’t help but wonder if that’s the fault of her wounds.

“I can only imagine. But...I mean now. Can I...can I do anything…?”

Expression turning thoughtful, she then gives him a small smile. “...you’re very sweet, but...I think for now there’s not much to do...but thank you. You said your name was...Obito?”

“Yeah. And yours was Ryū?”

“Mhm!”

“Well...the circumstances really sucked, but...it’s still really nice to meet you. Never, uh...met a mermaid before.”

That gets her to laugh wispily into the cuff of his jacket, and the sound makes his belly do flip flops. “Well, I’m honored to be the first! You were...the first human since all of this started to treat me kindly. So...thank you.”

“Of course.” Thinking back over the night, he then flushes pink. “Er...sorry about the mop...thing. I wasn’t sure if you were, y’know...a person. I saw you look at it and…”

“...oh!” Another laugh, and oh man he likes that sound. “To be fair...my reaction was genuine. I’d been stuck in that form for so long, a bit of my mind was more, well...inhuman. I got a little...carried away.” It’s her turn to blush, glancing aside in embarrassment.

Before he can think, Obito blurts, “No, it was cute!”

The pair of them both give a start, faces reddening.

“I...I-I mean...uh -?”

“All right, that’s enough you lovebirds.” Kakashi steps back into the room, now fully dressed and phone slipped back into his pocket. “We’ve got someplace to be.”

“...we? Including me?” Obito asks.

“Including you. And this time we get to use a car. Seems the boss man wants to see me and the pair of you in person.”

“...is that, um...is that good…?” Ryū asks, looking nervous.

“Well, I doubt it’s bad,” Kakashi replies evasively. “But in truth? We’ll know when we get there. I’ve got a car around back - we’ll take that.”

As he turns to lead the way, the others make to follow. To his surprise, Obito feels Ryū bustle up to his side slightly, as though trying to hide behind him.

...well Obito, you’ve gotten yourself into this mess. Might as well see it to the end. Trying to look nonchalant, he lets his arm drape over her shoulders in a gesture of protection.

Besides...that’s what he was hired to do: clean up messes.

     Hello and welcome to another one of Sylvie’s completely random brainchild drabbles xD I’ve wanted to do more of this verse for a while, and experimenting with different creature types is so much fUN!      So yes, back in my original monsters verse! This time with human!Obito, and mermallian!Ryū. And ofc werewolf!Kakashi cuz that’s the only Nightwalker that fits him, bahaha~ And they’re BUSTING HER OUT OF FISH PRISON. Cuz...reasons!      ...it’s really random, I’m sorry, but most of the drabbles on my to-write list are, so...prepare your butts for more, hehehe~ But uh...that’s about it for this? Not much else to say besides, uh...hope you liked it? lmao      *scuttles back under my rock*

[allgoodmarks]

ALL IN

The energy inside of the Sears Centre on September 1, 2018 was unlike anything I have ever experienced. The excitement was palpable. The halls echoed with anxious chatter and the occasional bellow of "SCU!". The merchandise table line stretched halfway around the arena. The door opened at 3:00ct and most everyone was bouncing in their seats by 4. We were ready to witness history that night.

 When the lights dimmed, the crowd ignited. We were on our feet, we were screaming, cheering, chanting "All In, All In, All In!". Our expectations were high. They never fell an inch, and yet, they were surpassed magnificently.

 Zero Hour

 The audience was thrilled to see Cody and the Young Bucks at the start of the show. The three of them only had a spare 90 seconds, but they used the time to greet their fans, make some jokes, and give out free merchandise. A surprise appearance by Road Warrior Animal on his motorcycle hyped the crowd even more.

 SoCal Uncensored vs. The Briscoes

The crowd was ready. No, we were more than ready. The enthusiastic chants of "SCU!" rocked the building as Scorpio Sky stood out in his red, white, and blue spangled robe and hat, and Frankie Kazarian showed his enthusiasm in black and gold Rocky trunks. The Briscoes stalked to the ring amongst a chorus of low boos. The audience was fantastic. They had their own part to play in this show, and they performed marvelously. They might have sold additional PPV subscriptions just by their enthusiasm. SCU and the Briscoes matched the crowd's energy with a great opening performance that was hard-hitting and entertaining.

Winners: SCU

 Over Budget Battle Royal

This event featured a spectacular array of talent from diverse backgrounds and experiences. We were treated to a variety of great storylines all throughout the match. From Cheeseburger to Tommy Dreamer to Ethan Page to Jimmy Jacobs to Billy and Austin Gunn, there really was something for everyone in this match. Jordynne Grace stood out among the competitors, not only as the only female participant, but for a stellar performance. Her strength and skill were on full display, and the crowd erupted when we saw her face off against the Swolverine, Brian Cage. The crowd quickly got behind Marko Stunt and cheered him on against his much larger competition. Bully Ray was great playing the spoiler for so many participants and the climax between him and Chicago's favorite, Colt Cabana, was intense. The end of the match succeeded in being both expected and unexpected, as we all knew Flip Gordon would be a part of the show in some form or another. Still, his reveal brought the crowd to its feet with a deafening roar of celebration.

Winner: Flip Gordon

 All In

 MJF vs. Matt Cross

All In's first official match began with great heel action from MJF and clear audience support for Matt Cross. I had never had the privilege of seeing Cross perform live before, and everyone assured me I would be in for a spectacle. They were right! Cross is an athletic marvel. Watching him and MJF play off of one another was truly a delight.

Winner: Matt Cross

 Christopher Daniels vs. Stephen Amell

Jerry Lynn entered the arena to cheers and a chant of "Jer-ry! Jer-ry!" This was a highly anticipated match with a great deal of uncertainty over how Stephen Amell would perform in only his third pro-wrestling match ever. He quieted his critics immediately with an impressive display of new skills. The audience responded with awe and respect for Amell's performance, but they were also solidly behind the veteran, Daniels. The longer the match stretched, the more tired Amell seemed to become, but he executed a wonderful Coast to Coast to an explosive cheer. To the audience's shock, Amell flew through the air and through a table at ringside. Of course, Jerry Lynn interfered in the match, much to the crowd's delight. Even with a loss, Stephen Amell impressed the audience with a great showing of potential.

Winner: Christopher Daniels

 Tessa Blanchard vs. Chelsea Green vs. Madison Rayne vs. Britt Baker

A highly anticipated women's match that did not fail to impress. These four powerful and skilled women gave a performance that excelled on all fronts. Every woman had a solid fan base present. Green quickly became the crowd's favorite, having fun with a unique character. Blanchard dominated with her incredible strength,  Rayne impressed with her athleticism, and Baker shone bright with great skill and passion. There was no slow or dull moment in this match. The audience cheered, clapped, and chanted throughout the duration, completely enthralled with these women's incredible performances. The first "This is awesome!" of the night rang throughout the building. The end came swiftly and unexpected, but the audience was ecstatic. A match that many people consider the show stealer ended in a wonderful show of respect between these incredibly skilled athletes.

Winner: Tessa Blanchard

 Cody vs. Nick Aldis for the NWA Worlds Heavyweight Championship

A great, historic match that began with the traditional walk to the ring surrounded by mentors and friends. Cody was accompanied by his family, Tommy Dreamer, Diamond Dallas Page, and even his dog, Pharaoh. As usual, Brandi Rhodes stood out with a gorgeous outfit, this one made of sheer fabric and sparkling like diamonds. The chant of "Cody! Cody! Cody!" pierced my ears and shook the arena. Nick Aldis surprised much of the audience with his entourage including Jeff Jarrett, Samuel Shaw, and Shawn Daivari. The crowd trembled with excitement. Even Earl Hebner as the referee was at a loss for words. Everyone was on their feet even before the match began. This promised to be a show-stealer and it did not disappoint.

 The story of the match began early. Cody was the fan-favorite, the sentimental pick for the win. Aldis was the cold and calculated champion, ready to play spoiler to this fairy tale. The audience was shocked to see Hebner throw up the "X" to indicate injury to Cody early in the match. Everyone rose to their feet again, a concerned hush falling over the entire arena. When DDP ran to the ring, shortly followed by Daivari, the crowd perked up again, relieved that it was all part of the storyline. The sight of his own blood seemed to rejuvenate Cody and the match continued at a fast, exciting pace. Brandi took a huge bump when Aldis landed an elbow right in her back while she covered her husband with her own body. The match had several false finishes, but the pin came suddenly, and the audience leapt to its feet, as it had done so many times in this match.

 The celebration began immediately, Cody and Brandi overcome with emotion, their fans shouting and screaming in elation. It was an amazing moment, seeing Cody hold the NWA Championship in the middle of the ring. Emotions ran high, tears flowed. It was a great moment for everyone, for Cody and his family and the fans watching around the world.

Winner: Cody, New NWW Worlds Heavyweight Champion

 Joey Janela vs. Hangman Page in a Chicago Street Fight

No one envied Janela and Page with their task of following the incredible moment before them. Their match would have to be imaginative, exciting, and over the top. How would they, too, exceed expectations?

 Penelope Ford, in a cute black and flower top, accompanied Janela that night. It did not take long for the Chicago Street Fight to explode to the outside of the ring, where Page introduced the first of many weapons in the match. The audience, still high from the previous combat, took a moment to settle in for this one, but the threat of violence from steel chairs, tables, ladders, and a literal cracker barrel from Cracker Barrel brought them back to their feet. Ford involved herself as well, displaying her incredible athleticism with Matrix-like dodge moves and a Stunner to Page. The audience erupted to see her dive off the top rope and hit him with a Cross-Body. The crowd responded with a "This is awesome!" chant. Excitement built as Janela set up two tables in the entranceway and Page Powerbombed him through them to chants of "Joey-killer". The crowd's anticipation grew with the introduction of two plastic garbage bags, one containing Page's cowboy boots. The sight of them threw Page into a panic and he Super-Kicked Ford. Page set up the climax of the match, revealing the phone he used to kill Joey Ryan, and then nearly killed Joey Janela with a Rite of Passage from the top of the ladder through a table.

Winner: Adam Page

 But they weren't finished. The lights dimmed. The TV screen horrified the audience with a shot of Joey Ryan's corpse. And then he rose.

 Adam Page stood, shocked, in the ring, as a parade of penises walked somberly to the stage. The audience watched in awe, some responding with a chant of "Holy dicks!". And then, in an eruption of color and cheers, Joey Ryan came. The audience responded gleefully at Adam Page's shocked expression as the man he thought was dead sauntered to the ring and then attacked him. Page's prone body was cradled and carried out in the soft arms of the phalluses, all while the audience chanted "Rest in penis". RIP.

 Flip Gordon vs. Jay Lethal for the ROH World Championship

The audience was thrilled to welcome back Black Machismo, decked out in "Macho Man" Randy Savage's red and yellow gear. Lanny Poffo accompanied him, while Brandi Rhodes, changed from her earlier outfit to a army-esque body suit, stood by Flip Gordon. This match promised everything: nostalgia from Poffo, prestige from Jay Lethal as the ROH Champion, comedy from Black Machismo's antics, and a taste of the future of pro-wrestling from the young Flip Gordon. Chants for both Flip and Black Machismo rang through the arena, but much of the crowd was behind the underdog, Gordon. They had already seen one new champion crowned and they were hoping to see another. Poffo invoked the spirit of his brother by sending Lethal up to the top rope to deliver 3 Hail to the Kings. Gordon played along by "hulking up" and hitting his opponent with a Big Boot. The audience loved every moment of the story being told in the ring, believing that Gordon could upset the champion, but in the end, Lethal was victorious.

Winner: Jay Lethal, still ROH World Champion

 The wonderful embrace of respect between Lethal and Gordon was interrupted by Bully Ray, who ran to the ring to attack them both. He even took Lanny Poffo down, further raising the ire of the crowd. Finally, Bully was stopped by Colt Cabana, who, with Lethal and Gordon, sent him through a table with a Shield-like Power Bomb, even accompanied by an "ooo-rah!" from the audience.

 Penta El Zero vs. Kenny Omega

One of the most anticipated matches of the night did not disappoint. It was brutal and powerful, bringing the audience to its feet many times. A "holy shit" chant began even before the match. This was one of those rare encounters where many people didn't much care who won. They were here to see the performances of the athletes in the ring. If this match lasted the rest of the night, not many people would have complained. Penta brought his hard-hitting, impactful style to the quick and limber Omega. One of the loudest pops of the night came from Penta's package Power Bomb on the ring apron. People had to look away from the replay. The agility of both men were on full display, with flawless and graceful counters throughout the match keeping the audience on the edge of their seats. The false finishes kept the intense tempo of the match and the hearts of the audience leaping in their chests. This was no one's least-favorite match of the night.

Winner: Kenny Omega

 Another complete blackout indicated that the emotional ride was not yet complete. When the lights came back up, Kenny Omega was attacked by Penta, now with a Fozzy tattoo on his left arm. The audience jumped to their feet again, knowing that the masked man before them was actually Chris Jericho. He pulled off his Penta mask and gave Omega an ominous threat- that he would see him on the Jericho Cruise. The shocked audience was ecstatic, most having no idea that Y2J was even in the building. The entire arena was left buzzing.

 Marty Scurll vs. Kazuchika Okada

Part of the double/triple main event, this match was anticipated excitedly for months. Could Scurll stand with the heavyweights, especially against the agile powerhouse Okada, the longest-reigning NWGP Champion of all time? The buzz around this match palpitated for weeks and when the time finally came... the crowd was absolutely exhausted. We were 4 hours into the most emotionally draining (in a good way!) show we had attended in a long time, with no intermission, no "low card" match to sneak out of for a moment. The crowd had stayed in their seats from the first bell because we couldn't bear to miss a moment. So when Scurll and Okada sauntered down the ramp, it was to an audience that was struggling to focus, despite the excitement.

 Even though the chants may have been slightly subdued than previously in the night, they were forceful. The 11,000+ people in the building were split, half chanting for Scurll, half for Okada, some, like me, chanting for both. And the performers gave everything they had. Their effort rallied the crowd's attention back to the ring. It didn't matter how tired they were, the incredible action was too good to miss. Scurll moved with intelligence. He used mind games and fake-outs to lure Okada off guard. Meanwhile, the Rainmaker plowed forward with his strength and took advantage of his size and weight. Every false finish brought the crowd to its feet again. They wondered if Scurll would somehow manage to defeat his much larger opponent and prove he belongs with the heavyweights. Unfortunately for him, Okada's power was too much to overcome. Despite the Villain's loss, the crowd applauded and cheered for him in a well-deserved show of respect.

Winner: Kazuchika Okada

 Rey Fenix, Bandido, and Rey Mysterio vs. Young Bucks and Kota Ibushi

All In's main event delivered a great deal in a small amount of time. We knew it would be a brief affair, seeing how quickly Marty Scurll and Kazuchika Okada cleared the ring after their match. This promised to be one of the fastest-paced, high-flying matches of the night. People couldn't blink for fear of missing a single moment. The anticipated match-up between Mysterio and Ibushi drew a chant of "Holy shit" even before they began. This spectacle did not disappoint. The match broke down only after a few minutes and the athletes' pure agility and skill were on full display. They executed so many innovative maneuvers that I couldn't even begin to describe them all, except for "amazing". How we wished the match could have gone on much longer.

Winner: Young Bucks and Kota Ibushi

 The Pay Per View feed cut off in mid-sentence, but the show in the Sears Centre went on. The Young Bucks and Ibushi remained in the ring and called down their friends and family. Cody, Brandi, and Kenny Omega joined them, along with Papa and Mama Buck, Mrs. Matt, and the Buck children. The ring was full of beaming, ecstatic people. They stood before the 11,000+ people in the arena and showed great humility, thanking the audience for their support and contribution. Whenever one performer thanked another, that person in turn thanked everyone else. Emotions were the highest they had been all night. The crowd was assured that none of their favorite wrestlers were going anywhere, and they responded with a resounding chant of "All In 2! All In 2!"

 No one can argue the success of All In. 11,263 people were in attendance that night, and many more watched the spectacle on TV. This was an experience unlike any other in recent memory. All In was a show produced by wrestlers who deeply love professional wrestling and who sincerely wanted to give their fans a new product to enjoy. Words cannot express how much the wrestling fans around the world appreciate their efforts. From the moment the idea was born, we watched for updates with bated breath, leaping on the chance to secure tickets to witness history. All In was everything we had hoped for and more. As a wrestling fan, the future is looking bright.

[stoffelees]

UnderZoo Drabble 1

It’s time for me to get back into the groove of writing! I want to finish Deserving of Acceptance, but first I have to find my way again with some practice. So get ready for some drabbles from my little AU UnderZoo.

If you’re a zookeeper and you found yourself here, perhaps give it a read and feel free to give your input (the two characters are skeleton monsters if you need to know). And to all who read, I’d love some ideas for future drabbles :D What would you like to know about the secret life of zookeepers?

It was a moment of peace in the barn. Papyrus was on the seemingly simple routine with the farm animals, but honestly it was one where there was much more physical work than mental. It was a relief sometimes to clean and be allowed to let your mind wander. However, today was not a good day for a mind to get lost in the forest of thoughts. This particular forest was dark and crowded with undergrowth.

The day had only progressed to lunchtime and already Papyrus had been faced with some less than pleasant people. Work was normally his safe space. Visitors didn’t come to the zoo unless they at least somewhat understood or appreciated what was being done, but it was field trip season and that brought out the worst in some guests.

Chaperones forced to watch over droves of wild children, kids with little to no interest in animals, teachers too overwhelmed to get an educated word in; it was a recipe for chaos. And come chaos had. Children loudly mimicked animal noises and parents scolded rowdy boys. Kids leaned so far over the gates Papyrus had to call out to them so they wouldn’t fall in and hurt their heads.

This was normal for busy days though, and Papyrus was more than capable of handling these things. No, it was the comment of one of the chaperones that caused the day to spiral downwards. Above all the noise from children and animals he heard the disheartening comment: “I hate the zoo.”

Papyrus had sprung into action. “My friend I must inquire what it is about the zoo you dislike, surely there are things you take joy from here?”

The human, possibly mother to one of the field trip children, had scoffed. “Look how sad the animals are! They shouldn’t be kept in cages, they need to be free!”

He glanced at the nearby sheep the human was gesturing to. This one was well known to him; she often would stick her head out and stare at any nearby keeper when she had picked out the best hay from the flake and felt it was time for a new one. Papyrus sent a silent scolding to Molly the sheep, watching as she pulled her head back into her stall to avoid the children who noticed she was within reach.

He had turned back to the disgruntled human, “Ma’am these animals have the best care available. What you perceive as ‘sadness’ is often an animal who is ready for a nap or a moment of peace.”

She had gasped, likely shocked at his grounded explanation, or so he hoped. “I know a caged expression when I see it.” At that she had turned and walked away, leaving Papyrus to snap his jaw back into place after it dropped.

So here he was, sweeping an already clean public walkway and wandering among the thoughts of what he could have or should have said.

“i’m pretty sure you’re gonna start sweeping away the cement if you keep going bro.”

Papyrus paused, a small twitch pulling up at the end of his mouth. He turned to see a common sight in the barn. Sans was leaned on the railing, one arm easily scratching the long neck of the alpaca who was more than happy to have attention from someone she knew.

 “Things can never be too clean in a barn brother, you should know that,” he chuckled, trying to hide his concern.

Sans pulled his arm back and moved closer to his brother as soon as he saw the distress flash across Papyrus’ face, the alpaca easily becoming distracted by the hay still present in her hayrack. “hey, bro, everything alright?”

“Of course brother! What would make you think otherwise?” Papyrus quickly turned back to his sweeping hoping Sans would drop his concern.

“i dunno, maybe because you’re stress cleaning?” The lazy but knowing drawl stopping the keeper in his tracks.

Papyrus sighed and placed the broom back in the tack stall. “I’m simply thinking about an interaction I had earlier, that’s all.”

“ya know, ruminating on that kind of thing isn’t always good for ya.” His older brother winked at him. Sans knew exactly which buttons to push to get a response from him.

“For your information, I do not have a common stomach much less a multi-chambered one to give me the ability to chew cud.” Hands situated on his hips he turned to Sans and huffed.

“alright bro, I’ll give you that one. what’s bothering you?”

Finding his emotions catching up once more he decided to recount the earlier interaction for his brother.

Nodding and listening intently as Sans always did, Papyrus found his thoughts racing along, “And these are domestics! There is no wild for them, sheep especially have a hard if not impossible time surviving without intervention! I just don’t know what I could have said.” A defeated posture took over the normally tall and straight-spined skeleton as he gestured to the once-again begging Molly.

“i’m pretty sure this is a case of losing before you started bro. the human didn’t want to hear what you had to say because their mind was already made up. Don’t let it get you down. Soon the kids’ll be back from lunch and ready to learn from the coolest keeper ever.” Sans nudged him in the ribs with his elbow.

A smile briefly graced his features, “I suppose you may be right this time Sans. But a better question is why are you here in the Children’s Farm barn? I’m sure you fixed that broken rail already and nothing new has presented itself.” He raised a browbone in question looking down at Sans.

Sans laughed, “i’m on lunch, of course, wanted to see my favorite bro on my break.”

“I’m your only brother Sans, and I’ll give you that excuse this time because it happens to be when normal lunch breaks happen.” He squinted his eyesockets, watching to see if Sans would reveal the real reason for stopping by. Giving up nothing as usual, Papyrus redirected the conversation, “but be sure to stop by sea lions, Mettaton was simply distraught over his sound system malfunctioning. It was all he could talk about yesterday at lunch.”

A chuckle reverberated in the shorter skeleton’s chest, “of course, i already have napstablook working on it today. anyways, i should get back to the maintenance office. i’ll see you after work bro; i’m still able to catch a ride right?”

“Of course! The Great Papyrus is always willing to give his roommate and brother a ride to their shared living space!” Punctuating the statement with a confident grip on Sans’ shoulders, Papyrus steered the smaller monster toward the ‘Employee’s Only’ gate. “I will see you after the work day has ended and you have finished all your tasks!”

“heh, of course Paps, see ya later,” he waved, disappearing behind the wooden slat fence.

Papyrus let a genuine smile take its place on his face before turning back to the barn. Perhaps Sans was right, he needed to focus on making this the best visit to the zoo the children could have. There was no time to dwell on a single negative remark. Besides, it was time to give out more hay and his soul was feeling lighter after speaking with his brother.

“Yes I hear you, I would never let you go hungry,” he spoke in response to the bleating goats on the far end of the barn. “I will have your lunch promptly!”

[scarletsaphire]

Mall Trip

This is my fic for @meginoi for the fic exchange. I feel like it sucks, and I apologise for that. It ended up more window shopping, bad characterization, and just overall suckiness. Also,props to whoever guesses the series Logan describes. Ask me and I might give you a prize. I hope you get some happiness from this piece of crap. Prompt: Shopping Word Count: ~1.8k Pairing: Logicality (I'm on mobile and can't post a read more. I apologise. I'll try to fix it later) It was the third Saturday of the month, which, for most people, was simply another Saturday. But for Logan, it was a special day. He was a very focused person, and always tried to keep busy and be productive, whether it be with lesson plans for his students, maintaining social connections, staying fit, and other things of the sort. He did know that rest was very important though, so he had a few days set apart in every month where he would take what is called a “Me Day.” He would allow himself to sleep in as late as he would, and do very little that day that would be considered productive. Today was one of those days. He had the day planned. He would wake up whenever, record any dreams that he had had, make himself a large breakfast, and then spend the day watching shows that he had heard of and reading his new books. His plan was not to have been woken abruptly at 8 o’clock by his boyfriend throwing open his curtains and allowing the sun’s light to hit him in the eyes. But things rarely go per plan, and that was what happened. "Logan, Logan, Lo, come on Lo, wake up!” Patton chanted as he bounced up and down next to his bed. The person in question sat himself up and fumbled for his glasses on his bedside table. "What are you doing here?” he asked, sleepiness still inhabiting his voice. "I want to go to the mall,” Patton announced, ceasing his bouncing. Logan sighed. “And why exactly do you want to go, and why so early?” Patton was a rather spontaneous person, but he always had some reasoning behind his decisions, even if they made no sense to Logan. "They just opened a small pet shop and I want to go see it, and they also got copies of that book that you’ve been wanting in and I wanted to go early cause we’re normally both up early and I want to eat out for breakfast!” Patton listed in no order. Logan sighed slightly, but smiled at Patton. “Okay then. Let me get dressed and we can head out, okay?” Patton nodded, and left the room. After getting changed, they both headed out, getting into Patton’s car. It wasn’t a long drive to the mall, only around fifteen minutes, but in that fifteen minutes Logan realized how hungry he was, and Patton told Logan about all the animals he was hoping to see. Just as Logan had predicted, puppies were number one. They found the parking lot emptier than normal by the time they arrived, seeing as it was rather early and the mall was fairly small and only known locally. “After we get something to eat, we can go see the animal, okay?” Logan said, to which Patton nodded. They walked through the parking lot, Patton holding Logan’s hand and excitedly pulling him forward through the parking lot. Once they had gotten to the food court, they made their way to one of the food stands to get their food. After getting their food (Logan had grabbed a sausage pretzel, and Patton a cinnamon one.) they grabbed a seat at one of the tables. They ate in comfortable silence, or as silent as it could be with the mill of people around them. Once they had both finished and had thrown their trash away, they started to make their way to the new pet store. When they arrived, Patton immediately hurried over to the dogs. "Puppies!” he yelled, crouching down so he could clearly see into the cages they were kept in. He read each description of the puppies out loud so Logan could hear them, and the ones that said they were okay to pet he reached in and pet them. Meanwhile, Logan was standing behind him, listening as well as looking around. The pet store was fairly empty, as it was still before when most people would visit the mall, but it was clearly the most crowded store in the mall. It made sense, seeing as it was both new and had animals, which attracted both adults and children. It appeared to be well stocked, with kittens, gerbils, birds, fish, lizards, turtles, and chinchillas, spiders, snakes, frogs, as well as the necessary objects to care for them and the not so necessary luxuries for them. He made a mental note to keep Patton away from the spider aisle. After finishing his observation of the store, he turned back to Patton, whose hand was straining against the cage to reach a particularly playful puppy who was running and rolling on the ground in his cage. Patton bit his lip as he tried to reach the puppy inside the cage, but his hand didn’t fit far enough. Sadly, he pulled his hand out of the cage. He turned around and looked up at Logan with puppy dog eyes. Logan sighed at the pun he had made to himself. Patton was rubbing off on him. Before Patton could speak, Logan looked away back to the chinchilla cage that was behind him and said “No, Patton, we aren’t getting a dog. You don’t have the room, and I am not taking care of it.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Patton pout. “You know they would be better getting adopted by someone who has a big area to take care of it as well as has the time to do so,” he added. Patton nodded, and stood up slowly. "Fine…” he said. “But what about a gerbil? Or a fish? A cat? A parakeet? A turtle? A chinchilla? A snake?” he started to list all of the animals in the store (besides spiders, obviously). "Patton, your landlord doesn’t allow pets, and I’m too busy to take care of them. As are you. As a therapist, your schedule doesn’t leave a ton of free time either.” Patton nodded sadly. “At least I get to see the animals!” he cheered up when he pointed that out himself. He grabbed Logan’s hand and started to lead him around the pet store. After seeing all the animals and quite a few animal puns, Patton was ready to leave the pet store. He waved goodbye to the person working the cashier, who waved back to him with a slightly confused look on his face, before entering the main mall area. By that time, the mall had more people milling around the halls. "After we pick up your book we can head back, okay?” Patton said. Logan nodded, and started to make his way to the book store. Patton was swinging their arms and talking about all the cute animals that had been in the pet store. About halfway through their trek to the other side of the store where the book shop was, Patton froze. "Can we go in the dark store?” Patton asked. Logan looked at him, slightly confused, before Patton gestured to one of the nearby store fronts that had a very dark staircase and dim lighting. "Why? The majority of the items in that store are clothes targeting teenagers, meaning that they will not be in the style of clothing you prefer to wear or in your size,” Logan inquired. "But it has pictures of beaches and the lighting is lit!” Patton said, laughing slightly to himself at the pun he had made. "If you would like to, I see no reason why we cannot, as we have no other tasks to complete today,” Logan said. He had long since given up on his “Me Day,” but he was enjoying himself, so he wasn’t mad about it. Patton smiled and made his way to the entrance, ducking under a low-hanging chandelier in the door. He walked straight past all the clothing, as well as the cashier’s desk, earning a weird look from the person there, and made his way to the back room. In that room a giant screen resembling a projector screen sat a bad quality video of a California beach on it. Patton watched the waves and the people running around on the beach doing normal beachy activities. Logan caught up with him, as he had lagged behind when Patton had taken off, and stood next to him. LThis is fairly nice to look at, despite the quality, but you do know that we can look at this exact same picture on the computer, right?” Logan pointed out. "Yes, but that’s not as fun. It’s more adventurous this way!” Patton said. They stood there for another minute before heading out of the store and continuing their trek to the bookstore. "What’s this book about that you’re looking to get?” Patton asked curiously. “I remember you told me a little about it, but I can’t remember it well.” "Well, it is a fantasy story that is for a target audience of kids, but the story line is very fascinating and it features a number of plot twists and dynamics that even I didn’t see coming,” Logan started explaining as they walked. “It’s about a boy who has the ability to do magic and whose father can do magic, but neither of them want anything to do with the magical world since the boys mother had died in a war that is still going on between mages. However, when he is tested, he ends up still getting into the magical school despite purposefully trying to flunk every test. When he arrives, he is deadest on getting out of there, but ends up quite enjoying himself and making friends with his classmates. As he goes through the year, many facts are revealed that drastically change the way he views himself, his father, and the world that he had been raised to hate. It truly is an incredible series.” By the time Logan had finished summarizing the story, they had arrived at the bookstore. It only took a few minutes for them to find and purchase Logan’s desired book, and then they headed out of the mall, with Patton waving a goodbye to the pets in the window of the pet store. The drive to Logan’s house felt quicker than the drive to the mall had been, since Patton kept asking him questions for him to explain about the series and that was something that he truly enjoyed doing. Patton kept glancing over at him while he was driving, never enough to be dangerous, with a fond smile on his face that didn’t go unnoticed or unreturned. Once they had arrived at Logan’s house, they spent a few more minutes in the car as Logan finished his explanation on his favourite character. Once he had finished and was unbuckling his seatbelt, Patton leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks for going with me,” he said leaning back in his seat. “I had a great time.” Logan smiled back at him. “I did too. I’m glad you asked me,” he said as he got out of the car. He waved at Patton as he drove away and started to head back inside of his house. The day was half gone already, so he wasn’t going to get his Me Day. But he liked this better.

[blisserial]

Twelve

We were a circus, yes, but never before had we plied our talents beneath the shelter of a proper tent. Ross claimed he hated tents and that the fabric walls and the disappearance of the sky gave him vertigo. I think he simply didn’t want to split with the coin necessary to procure such an expensive prop.

When we saw the jeweled beauty staked beneath the Capitol's white spire I think we all began to dream of endless, cheering crowds and previously unseen acclaim. I know I drew my shoulders back and lifted my chin. Summer south of the border had taught me that we were more than mud grubbers. Now I think I began to realize that we could be near royalty.

"It's sewn all over with sapphires," Will marveled, tattoos flexing as he stretched to stroke the gleaming fabric.

"I imagine they can be cut free," Maurice replied. He tossed Ross a speculative look.

"No," Ross replied quickly. "Let them be. Don't take anything isn't ours. There's danger in that."

Because I caught Amy's nod and frightened genuflect, I made a rude noise. Ross turned his glare my direction. "I mean it, Bliss. Don't tempt fate." Absently he patted the chrysanthemum pin now stuck through the leather of his belt.

The tent was larger than most of the Southern hotels we'd frequented. Beyond the door flap a footman waited. He bowed so low his chin nearly touched the ground then motioned us to the center of the ring.

We were without our mule and stallion. No hoofed animals were allowed beyond the first circle of the city. Instead, the Seat had gifted us with a pair of lions.

I thought fanged animals were a far road more dangerous than hoofed but Ross appeared calm. He'd worked with large cats in his youth, leopards and striped mountain cats, and we'd been promised that these two shaggy beasts were well trained by the Seat's own personal jester.

"They sit at her feet," the footman reported, reaching past thick wooden bars to ruffle a tawny coat. In his cage the lion began to purr, a deep, rumbling growl. "Or do summersaults while she plays a pipe. Gentle as lambs, these two."

I doubted it, but when the footman released the animals in order to demonstrate their talents, the creatures were indeed better mannered than our one eyed tom. Will soon had their cues down and Ross was fairly bristling with excitement.

"Beloved by the people." The footman nodded and preened subtly as one of the big cats rolled on the ground. "We truly cannot have a performance without them."

"We'll work them in." Maurice nodded. "My troop is nothing if not creative."

Creative assuredly. Our Bearded Lady had deft hands with a tailor's needle and also a pack rat's addiction to odd rags and bits of fine fabrics. She went to work piecing together elaborate, ruffled skirts made of feathers and damask. The skirts had lion sized waistlines and matching paste crowns; an example of the Bearded Lady's odd sense of humor.

The costumed lions were meant to dance with the dogs in the center ring while Ross's tabby queen strummed her guitar and the one eyed tom howled vulgar accompaniment. Amy would preside over them all. In this the dog girl reached the highest pinnacle of her career, I am sure.

It all ran surprisingly well. Our dogs and cats did not, as I expected, turn tail and run the moment the lions were introduced. I suppose Ross's menagerie feared his hand above the lions' hunger.

The elegantly coiffed, perfumed Southern audience roared and clapped at all the appropriate places. The shadowed pavilion at the far end of the tent remained opaque but the Seat's courtiers, arranged at the foot of his throne, nodded and smiled. Ross took their smiles as encouragement. That, and the showers of coin raining at our feet from above.

The adulation must have gone to Amy’s head. I was juggling in the far ring and did not see her leap to the lion's back, but I heard the increasing roar of the crowd. I might have continued on oblivious if the Bearded Lady hadn't screamed.

As it was, I looked over just in time to see the affronted animal turn its shaggy head and casually rip Amy's thigh to clots of meat and gristle.

Maurice quenched colored flame as he jumped to the dog girl's aid. The Bearded Lady continued to scream. Eager, frenzied cries from the audience above rang in my ears. And at the foot of the Seat's pavilion, his courtiers clapped and nodded in genteel approval.

                                                              *****

      The boy was dressed as he had been at Tamner's party, a proper pampered little lord head to toe. The white silk of his stockings had none of the stains one expected in a lad. His velvet doublet was unwrinkled. He stank of Southern perfume. Only the child's ruffled mane was out of order; burnished curls fell over narrowed brown eyes and onto the collar of his tunic.

He held the pistol steady, small hand loose and practiced, while he shook his head.

"A simple question such as I asked demands a simple truth, Sergeant." He spoke in the fluting tones of a lad whose balls had not yet dropped. He pursed his lips in dramatic regret. "But you lied. I thought so then. I know so now."

The silver pistol looked as though it had been fashioned to fit that particular miniscule hand but Maurice did not doubt the delicate thing could put a hole in his chest. He found himself clenching his teeth, and forced his jaw to relax.

"I've no idea what you mean."

"Witchery." The boy pronounced the word as though it tasted sweet on his tongue. He used his free hand to gesture at the blackened walls. "Or do you expect me to believe that conflagration was the result of an oil soaked rag and well timed distraction?"

He laughed as though he found himself terribly amusing. From somewhere behind Maurice the thin priest cackled a nervous echo. That sound, far more than the pistol, made Maurice begin to sweat.

The boy must have seen something on Maurice's face because he wagged his head carefully from side to side. "Don't try it, sir. Burning me won't do you a bit of good and I'll still put a bullet through your heart. Besides," the weapon remained still and steady as the lad crouched at Maurice's shoulder, "surely you've killed enough for one day." He leveled a meaningful past Maurice.

For the first time Maurice noticed the rank, charred stink rising about the room: blackened bone and hair. He knew the taste of ash well.

"I didn't kill them." Because he was sure he hadn't. Most of the priests had been still in the hall and the man closest behind had been hale enough to send Maurice tumbling to the floor.

"No?" The boy's brows quirked. "That isn't supper I smell, nor dinner I see."

Maurice lunged upward. He managed to knock the pistol from the lad's hand, but only, he thought, because the little monster allowed it. He did not quite make it to his knees before the muzzle buried itself again in his rib cage.

"Look your fill," the boy said. "And tell me that isn't murder."

The guards lay where they had fallen, inside the door and beyond, across the bottom of the stairs. The leather of their uniforms had turned brittle. Their boots steamed. Their hands were gone to blackened bone and what remained of their faces made bile rise in the back of Maurice's throat.

Only the elderly priest stood untouched, leaning hard against one blackened wall. His weathered face was set in a rictus of adoration and fright. And it was not, Maurice slowly realized, the fire the old man feared.

"I didn't do that." Maurice said quietly. Because he had always had far more control on the battlefield and he would not think that disuse had eroded his grip. "Who are you?"

The pistol jumped against his flesh as the boy exhaled a thoughtful sigh.

"He," the child said at last, "and his like prefer not to give me name. You.  Well. Often enough, your people call me Fox."

 The boy bound Maurice hand and foot with fine silver linked chain he produced from a small chest on the table and, pistol adamant, sent him to stand against the far wall. Then he made the old priest clear the room of the ruined bodies. It was a grisly, horrifying task to watch, but the man did not complain.

When the priest was finished he bowed, shaking, bloodied hands clutched to his robes, leaving vivid smears.

"Stand outside," the monstrous lad ordered. "Shut the door. I will call you when I want you."

The priest bowed again and shut the door. The soft, faint sounds of temple life above muffled to non existence.

The boy set his pistol on the table and parceled fruit and bread onto a small china plate. This he set on the floor in front of Maurice as one would feed a dog.

"Eat." He said, "I arranged it especially for you. You'll be hungry, I imagine.”

Maurice was not, but he slid down the rough wall until he sat on his heels and freed a grape with manacled hands.

"Northern grapes," he noted. The small purple fruit was cold and firm between thumb and fore fingers. "Fresh."

The boy plucked a grape from the platter on the table and burst it between sharp teeth. "They are my favorite." He scraped juice from red lips with his tongue and then smiled. "You don't believe me."

Maurice rolled the grape between his fingers but did not lift it to his mouth. "I never question a man's tastes, lad."

The boy's delighted laugh rolled and then vanished as quickly as it had come.

"No," he said, suddenly cold. "About the other. You don't believe I'm your Fox."

"My Fox is a god." And a wise man never ate a god's offering. "He runs in a beast's form, when he runs at all." Maurice tilted his chin at the abandoned pistol. "A god has no need of a man's weapons."

"There is ease in the mechanical." The boy sat on the floor a body's length away from Maurice. He pulled his knees up under his chin. Despite the ash in the room, the lad's white stockings were still clean. "And Fox is clever."

Maurice released the grape. It bounced on the china, rolled, and dropped to the floor. He regarded the boy silently, hoping he looked a good bit more indifferent than he felt.

"Do you plan to keep me prisoner?"

The boy appeared to give this idea great thought. "We've enough food to last a day or three. If the grapes do not sour. I abhor soured grapes. But this room gets cold. And we cannot expect Father Geschke to stand out there forever. The man's joints are bad and he's not got but a small family of days left to him."

"It would be," the lad continued, "easier on us all if you just explain."

"Explain?"

"The witchery!" The boy displayed a child's petulance beautifully, even sitting still as he did. "You are right. It doesn't exist, it shouldn't exist, I've mad sure of it. And yet there you were, sir, at Tamner's celebration, displaying your unnatural flame for all to see." His ivory skin grew flushed and mottled. "It does not exist, and yet you have it in spades. Where did it come from? How did you get it? Tell me!"

"You're mad."

The boy chewed his lip and muttered to himself. Then, quick as the child's Jumping Jack Maurice had once seen on display through a toymaker's window, he hopped to standing and spread his arms wide.

"How old am I?" He challenged.

Foolishness, Maurice thought. But: "Ten Summers, no more."

"And how old are you, fire eater?"

"Thirty and seven."

"The day you were born," the lad bent like a hinge at his waist, scowling into Maurice's glower, just out of reach, "your mum slaughtered her best goose and your father caught its arterial blood in a silver cup and left the whole on the cornerstone of my cottagers' church."

Maurice opened his mouth and then closed it again. The boy continued on.

"On the day you turned five your father picked an entire tree's crop of apples and your mother bundled them into a freshly woven basket and left the whole on the cornerstone of my cottagers' church. To bring you luck. Your mother," he straightened up again, seeing something Maurice could not, "had a bit of the rot in her left foot. You stole an apple from the basket. Your mum lost that foot soon after and you've never been particularly rich in luck. You shouldn’t have taken what was mine."

"Enough," Maurice said, despite himself, remembering his mother's gulping cry as the village surgeon cut off her putrid foot. She had not been quite the same after.

"And do you remember," the lad asked, spearing Maurice with a charming smile, "when you turned ten and five?"

Maurice did not, at first, and then, reluctantly, he did. He felt color rise again, this time along his own throat.

"Your mum in her grave and your father not long from his," the boy said. "You convinced the Matron Clark to lie with you, in the scrub alongside my church. And after, you left your offering wet upon my cornerstone, all because young Horace Redding told you, sir, that such a hedonistic ritual would bring you Fox's favor."

Maurice could not speak. The boy took bread from the table and broke it casually into two.

"You've never deserved my favor. And only because of the blood in your mum's silver cup do you have my mercy. So, best speak now." He bit into the bread, sighed easily, and spoke through a full mouth. "The witchery. How did you come by it? Who gave it to you? Speak! Was it that old meddler, that stolid fool, my brother Trout?"

                                                        ********

Moire could not find Maurice. He hadn't been seen in the barracks since sunrise. His cell was all but empty. He'd left his knife behind and the pack that contained his circus tricks.

Sometime since his arrival Maurice had picked up a cake of soldier's hard soap. It sat on the end of his neatly folded bedding along with a battered washing ewer. The man had always been obsessive about cleanliness.

Moire did not feel much compunction searching his quarters, because Maurice had never, in the time she had known him, locked a door. And because she was and always would be his commanding officer, and so had long ago earned the right. And because if Bliss had revealed her troubles to anyone, it would have been Maurice.

But she found nothing of Bliss, nothing out of the ordinary, and certainly no sign of a struggle. If the Northern king's soldiers had come for Maurice, they'd not come for him here.

Moire left the cell and stood for a moment in the subterranean corridor, thinking.

She remembered the old bolt hole. A small, possessive part of her heart wanted to throw off her priestly robes and responsibilities and find Bliss again, shake her until secrets spilled out, fix whatever scrape her friends had gotten themselves into.

Once, that would have been her right. But no longer.

Now, she belonged to the gods. And as if those self same gods heard her traitorous heart, they sent her a gentle reminder, in the form of the officious Corporal Aansi.

The man had, lately, somehow become her conscious.

"Major." Aansi appeared wholly relieved. "Thank the highest. I've been looking for you since afternoon bell. They said you were doing your wash."

"I was." Moire folded her hands into the sleeves of her robe. The fabric prickled but she'd grown used to it. "Something came up."

Aansi eyed the door at Moire's back. The corporal could not quite keep his disapproval hidden.

"You're wanted ." He said, with emphasis, "At the temple."

"Of course I am," Moire replied, smothering a sigh.

 Daily obeisance appealed to Moire's warrior self. It was, after all, only another form of patience, not so different from days and nights spent in formation, waiting for the enemy to make his move. The temple floor was nearly as cold as a camp tent in winter and far more uncomfortable than a day spent in the saddle.

During obeisance Moire was never alone. To her right and to her left the other initiates spread in motionless rows, brows pressed to the floor, eyes closed.

Moire could hear her companions breathing, when she was not distracted by the beating of her own heart. Often she became lost in the inhale and exhale until that ocean of life lifted her chest and she grew light and full of certainty. Then every lingering doubt fell away and nothing remained but the companions at her side and the promise of her new future.

But for once Moire could not focus. The rhythmic breath of the men and woman sprawled around her became a distraction, an irritation. Time seemed to inch forward, painstakingly slow. Her forehead grew numb against the stone floor.

She wanted to open her eyes and roll her head and look up at the towering altar. She needed to seek answers to new questions in its glittering, all-seeing eye. She waited for that light, that certainty.

It didn't come.

Outside midday grew into evensong. Soon the bells would ring again and free her from supplication. Moire wondered if Maurice had returned safely to his cell.

A throat cleared, startling against the susurrus of breath. She forgot not to look up.

A young priest looked down at, expression kind. "Initiate," she said. "You are expected in the library."

Surprised, Moire glanced side to side at the motionless, scarce breathing bumps that were her brothers and sisters. The priest shook her head and lifted one finger to her lips.

"Take the main staircase," she said. "They’re waiting.”