Prompt: If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets – Haruki Murakami

Fandom/series: Anohana: the flower we saw that day

Word count: 1805

Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).

Summary: Menma has a wish to grant but she cannot remember it. And it’s only until the very end that she stops lying to herself and everyone and finally says that she wants to stay.

Menma Remembers

Menma remembers her death.

 

   She remembers the way she died. The yank of gravity as she lost her balance, rolling down the steep slope, barely aware of anything other than the spinning world around her. The harsh SMACK against the so small rock that ultimately stopped her life. The water that filled her lungs, her body, her life, drowning her.

 

   She remembers how it didn’t matter that she had somewhere to go, someone to see. How no matter how much she screamed for them, for anyone, in her mind, no one would hear. How no matter how much she wanted to move, to swim because she knew how, her small body did not listen. How no matter how much she still had to do, the years still to live, she was taken away.

 

   She remembers her last thoughts as blackness trickled in. Slowly at first, creeping around the edges of her vision, then in short bursts of darkness. She remembers her last words that couldn’t be spoken. Her last feelings that couldn’t be expressed. Her last breaths that couldn’t be taken.

 

   She remembers all of that day; her last day. Her last day with her friends; everyone; anyone. Her last day with the Super Peace Busters.

 

   Menma remembers.

--

Menma doesn’t remember what happens next. She doesn’t remember being awake, or conscious, or anywhere. All she knows is that for the years that followed, she wasn’t there. She doesn’t remember what happened to her; whether she was in the afterlife, or roaming, or lost. She doesn’t remember watching the Super Peace Busters drift apart, like stray fishing rods in a lake. She doesn’t remember watching Jintan grow shut inside; watching Poppo travel the world; watching Anaru smile with her new friends; watching Tsuruko and Yukiatsu study hard at their school.

 

   She doesn’t remember her friends’ hurting when she’d left. Doesn’t remember the misery and grief they went through. The pain.

 

   She doesn’t remember any of it because she wasn’t there. She never was. She never will be.

 

   But she’s here now. She’s here now and she has a purpose. She knows it in her heart; it’s a tug that leads her somewhere, to someone.

 

   That’s how Menma finds Jintan.

--

Menma knows she is dead. She knows but she can’t help the words that escape her. Words that no one hears amidst their laughter. But she is fine with that. She is fine with that because seeing them together makes her happy. They smile the same way as when they were children. Back when they were really just Jintan, Anaru, and Poppo.

 

   This happiness makes her forget. Even if it’s for seconds, it makes her forget that she is dead. Makes her forget that no one sees her smiles, hears her laughs, or feels her hugs.

 

   They make her forget, maybe because they themselves are forgetting; they are forgetting the pain that they box in a corner of their hearts, closed but always leaking out. They are forgetting the wedge between them, the clear division that cuts them off from their childhood.

 

   They are forgetting because for those precious moments, they return to their childhood. Happy, free, careless. Uncaring about school, or appearances, or guilt. Only for this mundane afternoon; playing Nokemon in Anaru’s room.

 

   And watching them, Menma wonders if that is her wish. To have them happy like this.

 

   But it can’t be. She knows it can’t be because they are not complete. Not yet. It’s not enough because Tsuruko and Yukiatsu aren’t here. They aren’t the Super Peace Busters without them.

 

   It is almost like a flower without all the parts; the petals are there to cover up the fact that the roots and stem are not.

 

   It is beautiful, but incomplete.

--

Menma hates this.

 

   She hates this helplessness. She hates this invisibility. She hates being dead.

 

   Most of all, Menma hates being the reason of her friends’ pain. She always has, and she always will.

 

   She can only watch as they argue, hurling stabbing words that make her breath hitch because she it does hurt, but it hurts them too. The knives that come out of Yukiatsu’s mouth, filled with anger, so so much anger.

 

   It reminds her of those days so many years ago, when they were children with high tempers and silly ideas. But this time, they are older, they know how to hurt with words, they know pain, they know what they are doing is wrong.

 

   A small part of her cries at that, but a bigger part knows that it is all said in anger, in grief and pain. She knows she is reason of all of this. She knows but cannot do anything.

 

   Anything but this.

 

   Blocking out Jintan and Yukiatsu, Menma walks to the fireworks. It reminds her of her childish naivety; thinking such a simple object could reach the heavens. She takes a firework out, hands shaking ever so subtly. It reminds her of that long-ago day; a day of content and love. She ignites the firework. It reminds her of the light she saw every time she was with her friends; their lives so weightless and free.

 

   And then Menma paints the night sky with the infinity symbol.

 

   Their symbol.

 

   And she wonders. What do they see? If Anaru, if Poppo, if Tsuruko and Yukiatsu and Jintan see anything. Do they see a reminder of their friendship, of a bond bound by lives near forgotten? Do they see that long-ago day of content and love?

 

   Do they see her?

--

Menma’s wish had been granted.

 

   The floor sways under her feet. She feels a weight push down on her, bringing her backwards. She’s tired, exhausted, but it’s not sleep or hunger. No, this is something different.

 

   She can tell because she sees her body fading. It’s a strange sight; to see her own body dimming, the wooden floor peering through her arms. It’s strange and bittersweet, because she knows that this means she has fulfilled her promise to Auntie but that this also means she’s leaving. That her time with her friends is ending.

 

   Menma’s had fun with them all; with Anaru, Poppo, Tsuruko, and Yukiatsu. With Jintan.

 

   Deep inside, Menma always held that tiny piece of sadness at bay. Only because she was a lot happier. She had so much fun, knowing it wouldn’t last, knowing they weren’t the Super Peace Busters if they weren’t all together.

 

   And they weren’t. At least not truly.

 

   Not yet.

 

   But despite it all, Menma cannot leave it. She can’t because she still hasn’t said goodbye. She still hasn’t told them of her feelings; those feelings that she couldn’t express on that day.

 

   She grips her right wrist, trembling as she struggles to write what she needs to. Her handwriting is shaky, but she pushes through, her weakening fingers slipping on the pen. This time she feels her eyes flutter, threatening to close. But she knows that once they do, she may not have the strength to open them.

 

   So Menma forces them open. Forces them for her sake and for everyone’s sake.

 

   Because this way, this way she will be able to tell them of her feelings. Tell all of them. And this way, they won’t forget. They won’t forget that she wants them to be happy, to remember her as someone who brought them closer, not as someone who broke them apart.

 

   Because Menma only hopes that they remember her.

--

Menma had made it.

 

   They’re out of breath and worry streaks their faces. She notices Jintan’s feet are bruised and bleeding from running outside all night and her heart aches at that. At his almost mad search for her. The worry she caused him. The others are looking to him for guidance, looking to him like a leader again. Just like when they were kids.

  

   Anaru sees her letters.

 

   Menma had laid them out like a flower in front of the tree she’d been resting against. She was barely able to keep herself upright anymore.

 

   With a fond smile, she watches them read her letters. They were too short for her liking but this time, she was able to properly say goodbye. She had so much to tell them. But she knew that it was the quickest and easiest way to express her feelings. She never was a writer, her diary proved that.

 

   She watches the tears that fall, their bodies shaking from their emotions.

 

   And then Jintan shouts.

--

That’s right. They were playing hide-and-seek. They were still playing a game. Menma still had a game to finish.

 

   The rest of the Super Peace Busters join in Jintan’s chant. It’s becomes too much and she quickly has to duck her head, tears forming, because even though she knows they can’t see her, she hates crying in front of them.

 

   “I’m ready!”

 

   They fall silent.

 

   Had they…had they heard her?

 

   Anaru cries out her name.

 

   Menma looks up. She’s almost scared too. She’s hoping too much. But when she does, she finds that they are all looking at her. Really looking at her.

 

   And she’s so glad.

 

   It’s really a proper goodbye then.

 

   She struggles to her feet, hand braced against the tree to support her as the other wipes her tears away. Because she doesn’t want this to be a sad goodbye, as much as she knows it will be. She doesn’t want to make it sadder than it already is.

 

   “Menma’s bad at hide-and-seek, isn’t she?”

 

   “Hey, Jintan, say it properly. The game is over now, right?”

 

   She knows the sun is streaming through her. She can see it below her eyes. She’s close. But it’s not over yet.

 

   Poppo calls out first, saying I love you too. It initiates the rest of them, when Tsuruko follows, then Anaru and Yukiatsu.

 

   And finally, Jintan. “I love you Menma.”

 

   All of it is enough to set her crying again, her earlier attempt failing just as quickly.

 

   For a second, she sees a glimpse of the past again. When they were young, when Jintan had made her cry, when the rest of them had chided and teased him. For a second, she sees them all like they once were.

 

   For a second, Menma sees her past, and also her future.

 

   Because, “Menma wants to be with everyone more! She wants to play with everyone more! That’s why, Menma wants to be reincarnated! That’s why…” That’s why they need to say farewell, so that she can come back quickly. That’s why.

 

   As one, the Super Peace Busters, Jintan, Anaru, Poppo, Tsuruko, Yukiatsu, all shout. “Menma! We found you!”

 

   And even as she feels herself lighten until she is weightless, even as she feels herself disappear, even as she feels herself leave, Menma knows it’s alright now. It’s alright now because…

 

   Menma got found.

Title: the First Act of Defiance
Rating: PG
Prompt: Destroying things is much easier than making them – Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games
Fandom/Series: Granblue Fantasy
Word Count: 1349Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
Summary: Running out of options, Sandalphon joins the Rebellion in a quest to get his creator to notice him. He is given what he wants, and more.

the First Act of Defiance
 

The sword severs the other archangel’s wing with ease, and without proper balance, the archangel plunges into the bottom of the blue sky, screams of pain and primal biofluids following it’s ugly descent.

 

Sandalphon lets out a long drawn out laugh filled with glee. The sound catches the attention of another archangel that comes charging in, but a simple swing of his sword cuts against their core and they scream.

 

He never thought that taking another one’s life would be so exhilarating, but it’s still not enough. Just a few measly kills isn’t enough to satisfy him.

 

Besides, he hasn’t proven that he isn’t just a spare yet.

 

His next kill is stolen by a crazed pale fallen, but he lets it slide. They’re the ones responsible for planning everything, after all. He has to give credit where it’s due. Finding the timing to start the attack right when the primarchs are away and when the Astrals were off guard must not have been easy, especially with the more... extreme experiments they were being put through recently.

 

He flies off to the cape of an island with Astrals firing magic to have some fun. He slaughters one in the group and turns to the rest. He doesn’t know what face he is making, but it seems to make the Astrals hesitate.

 

Perfect.

 

Sandalphon beheads the second Astral, cuts off the arms of the third before pinning them to the ground with his large purple sword, and turns to look at the fourth.

 

“You vile archangel! Your actions will bear nothing and punishment will be your only salvation!” the Astral yelled as they hurled a weak torrent of water. One flap of his wing repels the water away and as he approaches step by step, the Astral cowers in fear.

 

Worthless follower.

 

“I will ensure that the punishment won’t be dealt by worthless Astral hands,” he says, venom dripping from his words as he raises his sword. He doesn’t give the Astral a chance to scream as he slices the Astral’s windpipe and deals the final blow with a clean stab.

 

He’s slightly happy that the variety of books he reads as he spent each passing day peacefully came in handy, not that his past self would ever think it would be useful in such a violent way.

 

Pulling his sword back, he turns to look at the sky. The blue and white he always sees while captive is practically gone, replaced with streaks of black, gold, deep red, and many other colors of the rebelling primal beasts. That’s good. The less he sees of the endless taunting sky, the better.

 

He lifts off back into the air and assists another fallen on the way with his sword. He doesn’t spare them a glance, of course. He has more important things to focus on.

 

He flies higher and higher until he is no longer surrounded by battle. Stretching his wings with a chant under his breath, a magic circle shines behind him and his four swords materialize on command. He grins as the magic circle fills to the brim, and releases the energy in countless streaks of light.

 

“Ain Soph Aur!” he yells with all his might as the white streaks of light pierces through the sky and hits countless archangels. He watches them as they fall, and all he does is laugh.

 

It’s still not enough.

 

He readies his sword as he angles himself to descent when the screams in the air change.

 

The tide change takes only an instant. The archangels silence themselves and the fallen are the ones who scream in panic and fear. For good reason as the wind forms a tornado that only swallows black and gold. Others have their black wings replaced by deep brown and plunge withouta means of stopping. At another side of the battlefield, a storm of fire burns countless white and black. Large bubbles of water devours deep red and refuses to let them escape.

 

The four primarchs.

 

That can only mean...

 

Sandalphon lets himself descend, only opening his wings to catch himself when he sees the unmistakable shade of untouchable six white wings.

 

He lets himself stare into the blue eyes of Lucifer, his feathers bristling from an emotion he can’t recognize. He knows his uncontrollable anger is what driving his core going, and his head is pounding from the euphoria of making the Astrals that were responsible for his experiments feel the pain they caused him. But as Lucifer’s stony expression changes, he ignores the emotion he can’t figure out in favor of the anger burning within him.

 

He charges and crosses swords with Lucifer for the first and last time. He attacks aggressively, without mercy to try and push Lucifer back, to make him give him a reaction.

 

His sword is slashed out of his hands, and he stands defenseless against the Supreme Primarch. He feels fear, then quickly forces it out with anger. He refuses to let anything out other than his endless anger and frustration.

 

(He can’t let him see him. How his heart has been shattered into a million pieces. He refuses to even gain the chance to mend it.)

 

Lucifer locks eyes with him for another moment. And it is this moment Sandalphon decides that if he were to perish by Lucifer’s hand, then that would be the most favorable punishment he’ll ever receive.

 

That is his last complete thought as the tip of a sharp sword pierces his armor and through his abdomen, too far away from where his core resides. He grits his teeth and refuses to let out a sound, only relaxing when the sword is extracted and all traces of his energy seem to disappear as if drained through the sword. His arms and legs and wings fall limp, and he is only left to fall for a second.

 

Arms grab him, and he is pressed against gold armor. The last color he recognizes is blue and white before he blacks out. Time stops, and he feels nothing.

 

----

 

Sandalphon regains feeling bit by bit. Starting from his fingers then his arms and legs until his body feels like his again. He is aware of the cold marble under his back and a part of him is disappointed that he still lives. It takes another moment for him to open his eyes.

 

He’s greeted by more black. He pushes himself off the marble and stands up without trouble. He doesn’t feel any pain, but he can’t see anything. His heels resound against the marble as he moves with his hands outstretched. He touches a marble wall, and follows it until his hand bumps against what he feels to be a door handle.

 

He opens it, and yet still sees nothing. He doesn’t remember how long he takes trying to find any trace of light, but he remembers giving up. He remembers sitting against a wall and curling into a ball.

 

For some twisted reason, his mind supplies him with information in the form of Lucifer’s voice.

 

‘This is Pandemonium. A cage made by the Astrals to seal the beasts that rebelled. I wanted to listen to your reasons, but I can’t defy my duty. I’m sorry, Sandalphon.’

 

He clutches his knees closer to his chest, trying to shut the voice out. He didn’t want to hear Lucifer’s voice now. He didn’t want an apology now. Besides, he’s sure that this is all his imagination giving him what he wants to hear.

 

He just wanted to be useful to Lucifer. Even if his duty was pouring coffee everyday, he wouldn’t have minded. He just wanted to be useful, and look where that got him. So even his simple wish of wanting to be useful is nothing but a sin, huh?

 

In the darkness, his thoughts loop with no end in sight. In the darkness, he despairs over his existence. In the darkness, he doesn’t try to find a way out.

 

In the darkness, he doesn’t see the pure white feather sitting innocently beside him until it dissolves into particles of light. 

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Title: Droplets
Rating: PG
Prompt: If you rememberme, I don't care if everyone else forgets
Fandom/Series: Wolf Children
Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
Summary: Ame has been living in the mountains for the past 5 years. Everything was fine, until he finds his mother has been hospitalised.

Droplets

My mother was dying. It was only a couple of years after I’d left. I felt it through the bond between us, a beam made of sparkling lights. But I felt it dim. It sparkled reluctantly, weakly. I didn’t return home immediately. I stayed in my little home in the mountains. I brushed it off as a mistake, an accident. She had probably tripped or something, I reassured myself. But there was still an uneasiness that had settled into the back of my mind. Give it a few days, I told myself. It’ll go back to normal. It didn’t. I looked at my little mountain home one last time, then decided to go check on my mother.

“Mum?”

 I knocked on the wooden sliding door. There was no answer, so I slid it open and went inside. “Mum?” I repeated, louder this time. 

“MUM! HANA!” No reply. 

The house was empty. My heart was thumping rapidly in my chest. I could feel dread rising up from my stomach. I blinked and took a breath. The neighbours would know. They would know where she is. I switched to my wolf form, running to the house miles away, across the country land. I switched back to human, paws turning into hands, fur flattening to creamy, smooth skin, and ears flopping back into my hair. I rapped on their old bamboo door impatiently. The old couple answered the door, surprise registering on their faces when they saw me. 

“Ame...” I plastered a smile on my face and quickly asked, 

“Do you know where my mother is?” They exchanged glances like they were speaking to each other. The old woman looked down at her feet. The old man stared at me with pity in his eyes. “Hana... she’s in hospital, in the city.”

 My head jerked up, looking the old man straight in the eye. He flinched a little. 

“Okay. Thank you. Do you know which one?” I asked breathlessly. He nodded and told me the name of the medical centre. I quickly said goodbye and walked away. My mother was in hospital. There was no mistake. I would have to go back to the city where my father was killed.

I took the train to the city. It was nearly empty. Just me and some city people who I guessed were returning to the city. When the train stopped, I couldn’t get out fast enough. I arrived at the hospital half an hour later. I rushed through the doors and almost fell on the receptionist’s desk. 

“Hello, can I help you?” She asked, a little flustered.

“Uh, yes. My mother is here. Her name is Hana.”

 The lady looked down at her computer and clicked the mouse a few times. 

“Room 37, second floor,” she said. 

“Alright. Thank you.” I ran into the lift, frantically pushing the second floor button. The lift finally left me out. 

“Second floor,” the lift said in a cool voice. I stepped out of the elevator and scanned the many rooms and found 37. I gently opened the door 

“Mum?” I said tentatively. 

“Ame?” She was lying on a bed with blue sheets, tubes going in and out of her arms, machines beeping and whirring. 

“Mum! What happened?” She smiled weakly. 

“Ah. Well, I was diagnosed with cancer,” she said softly. 

“How,” I demanded. 

“Skin cancer,” she said simply. I couldn’t process what was happening. My mother had cancer. 

I walked closer to the bed. My mother was deathly pale. You could see the blue veins snaking their way up her arms. She lifted a pale, white hand and touched my face. 

“How... How long have you been here?” I rasped. 

“6 months,” she said weakly. My mother had been in hospital for 6 months, and I wasn’t there for her. A tear slid down my cheek from my hazel eyes. She moved her finger and wiped it away. “Ame. I’m going to die.” I was sobbing. Tears splashed on the floor, and my mother smiled sadly. “I can feel my strength slipping away every day. Even the doctors say so. They say sometime this week.” It was Sunday, the last day my mother had to live. The last time I would see her.

“Tell me. Tell me what happened when I was gone,” I whispered. She smiled.

“Not much. I did the gardening. I started painting.”

“Painting?” She smiled softly.

“Yeah. I could spend all week or even longer painting.” My mother suddenly stopped talking. She coughed. And coughed again. She put her hand over her mouth. Big, wracking coughs. She was wheezing and dry-retching. She managed to control them, and finally stopped. I pulled her hand away from her mouth. The was dark, red blood splattered on her hand. She wiped it on her sheets. Hana clasped my hand in hers. 

“Ame. I love you. Don’t ever forget that there will always be someone... someone who will love... love you, dead or alive,” she whispered fiercely. My tears dripped down onto the ever growing puddle of tears at my feet. 

“I won’t forget you. I’ll remember everything you did. As long as I remember, it doesn’t matter is no one else does.” Hana smiled faintly and closed her eyes. Her grip tightened on my hand. 

“Mum, I love you.” 

“You... are just like your father,” she whispered, eyes still closed. Then her hand went limp in mine. I shook her hand. She didn’t move. My mother was dead. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the tears, but they just slipped out from the sides. I brushed her hair out of her face. I sniffled a bit and wiped my eyes. 

“I love you.” 

I was 10 years old when I left my mother to live in the mountains.

I was 12 years old when my second teacher left.

I was 15 years old when my mother died.

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Title: Rap Idol Project
Rating: PG
Prompt: Destroying things is much easier than making them
– Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games
Fandom/Series: Love Live! and Love Live Sunshine!!
Word Count: 3400
Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
Summary: mu’s, Aqours, A-RISE and Saint Snow have a rap battle. 

‘It was always going to come down to this!’ shouts the female announcer, her heart-shaped glasses glinting, her brown hair glowing gold under the glare of the studio lights.

 

Announcer:

Creation and destruction; two sides of a coin

This is the theme of the battle we join

Who can build verse so adverse to place the other group in a hearse

Design allegory and oratory to lead a path to glory

That, my friends, is the point of this story

Which I shall describe to you momentarily:

Discourse abounds and the argument sounds,

Making the rounds on all the most passionate grounds:

Don’t pretend it’s not there, it’ll be settled fair and square,

In this, a one-night only affair!

No need to keep up appearances, no room for forbearances;

There’s no need for tolerance as our idols show off their rap battle competence!

Tonight’s agenda is simple!

Between Love Live and Love Live Sunshine; μ’s and Aqours, which is the best group?

Honoka-san, you’re up!

 

Lights and cameras swivel all at once to their orange-haired target. The beat fades in and sounds in her earphones as Honoka takes a breath, then lifts the microphone just in front of her lips. She hits the beat with confidence as the others watch on, ready to follow afterwards…

 

Honoka:

What started out in a magazine publication

Eventually became a KiRa-KiRa Sensation

Our faces and songs on train and radio stations

Snow Halation our hit across all the world’s nations

We’re the ones who’ve earned all the admiration

Adulation, adoration of our skills and sophistication

Popularity, enough idolatry to save our school Otonoki

Record merchandise sales in earning all those royalties

In mu’s is where you should place your loyalties

We’re the real OG’s, Aqours are fakes like forgeries

Don’t believe me? Here’s a list of similarities:

She’s orange haired, genki, so full of energy

Their leader is literally a copy of me

Like she’s stolen a branch from my family tree

Or fraudulently ripped off my genealogy

They just changed the locality and set it by the sea

But for all of the cheating, I get what she’s thinking

Why change our formula, when it’s always winning?

We put the panache into Start:DASH

We’re the pinnacle, That is Our Miracle

We’re the No Brand Girls who topped the world

Long before Aqours was ever unfurled

We’re the deserved number one, claiming otherwise is absurd

That’s enough nouns and verbs, so let’s hear their leader’s blurb

 

Chika:

It started in spring, an impulsive thing

I saw μ’s perform and wanted to start shining

It was inspiring, the beginning of something surprising

All the way to the top and we’re still rising

We’re Aqours HEROES, we’ve stepped from Zero to One

Then Love Live we won in our second season

But that my friends, is where the similarity ends

Let me say this instead to what Honoka said

And stop you all from being misled

My eyes are red, my hair looks like I got out of bed

I’m not an airhead with an unhealthy obsession for bread

I didn’t run in the rain pouring from the heavens

Only to collapse while performing and get knocked out before prelims

I took down the poster of μ’s from up on my wall

Because I wanted to go and surpass you all

If you take us on, that’ll be your downfall

I think you’ve taken too many sentimental steps

Backwards, and beaten by generation next

Here’s one more sunshine story

We don’t need any former glory

Because we’re the best in this school idol territory

And that’s the end of my oratory!

 

Kotori:

Stand to atten-chun, it’s Kotori Minami

Designer of outfits more tailored than Armani

You know, I got a chance to study fashion in France

You design skirts which look more like pants

And let’s not get into the way that you dance

It looks like you won Love Live by chance

Our enhanced skills leave viewers entranced

We’re advanced and unmatched, we’re the number one act

It’s a matter of fact, we established this track

Is that all your attack? You need to do better than that

Because like cheesecake, Kotori will make you her snack!

My rhymes are sweet&sweet like caramel

In comparison, you’re spicaterrible

My lyrics bring the pain

Like running a blueberry train

Over you and making a stain of your group so plain

Akihabara is our Wonder Zone

We’ve twice sold out the Tokyo Dome

And we’ve stolen the show and you should just go home!

 

You:

This is You repping Aqours, laying down grooves,

Compared to μ’s, you’d say that we’re new and improved

I didn’t want to be rude, but you’ve a bad attitude

Maybe that’s why your songs are unrefined and quite crude

Aww, I’m sorry, was that a little too shrewd?

I’ll show you that we have the real aptitude

As opposed to μ’s, who are out to delude

We’re better by an order of magnitudes

You’re like beginners sailing – drowning and failing

Falling over the railing without your lifejacket inflating

I’ll be the shark when I see your limbs flailing

Blood in the water always gets my heart racing!

 

Umi:

Umi Sonoda, lyricist extraordinaire,

I’ve written my share of rhymes beyond compare

When I’m done you’ll need a visit from Médecins Sans Frontières

My name means sea, I’m a student of archery

Love arrows in my armoury, ready to pierce without pleasantry

For now, a treatise to show off my expertise:

We’re the best of the school idol species

The lyrics of your songs are verbal faeces

And they spread far worse than any disease

We have courage and reason

You should be discouraged and leave soon

Before a massacre blooms like a flower in the future

And your defeat looms ever nearer and nearer

 

Riko

Recording hit after hit, I’m Riko Sakurauchi

Composing chart toppers is my pianoforte

I’ll add writing monologue to that, just for today

I’ll convey words which make μ’s just cliché

Like their songs: so simply written and passé

I’m on the piano from Monday to Friday

Because on the weekends I’m buying yuri doujinsh-

Ahem!

I was enrolled in Otonokizaka

So I know first-hand their students are all suckers

And suck-ups to this group of mediocres

Heard of Nishikino-san?

My compositions are above hers

Much like how this verse is

If she wants to take me on

She should prepare her nurses!

 

Maki:

No time to be nice when my lines begin

It’s time to get Maki-avellian

I’m pedigree of progeny; prodigal product of prophecy

Popping poetic polemic, making you all look pathetic

Playing piano, no one comes near a Nishikino

Not Chopin or Beethoven and certainly not Riko

I feel it’s time to be real with the title she’s trying to steal

So here’s the deal: stop me if you’ve heard this before

A schoolgirl red-haired pianist, writing scores

Finding chords, leading dreams to their doors

And earning applause and encores

Long before Aqours was in force

There was Nishikino Maki, of course

If I were to summarise Riko-san

I’d say she’s like me, but worse

I’m the darling on the keys

I pull off daring lines with ease

Let’s see who’s willing to lose now; next please!

 

Hanamaru

Hanamaru Kunikida, about to open up like pandora

As for my rhymes, I have a plethora, zura

I spend my free time in the library;

An expert in history and vocabulary

So with my skills of diction let me serve some non-fiction:

Our songs are an addiction like nicotine

You’re like Antoinette – set for the guillotine

We’re the revolution on the school idol scene

Set to wipe out the has-beens and their delusional dreams

Climb the scaffolding, set the stocks, wear a hood to block the sun

I’ll pull the rope, loose the blade and say “Goodnight, everyone!”

 

Rin:

With Hoshizora Rin, winning’s a sure thing

I’ll rin-rin-ring a love wing bell and put the new girls in their shell

Like throwing children in a well when I dispel this lyrical spell

An idol with a verbal tic; a cute trick

Who did you nick that from, I wonder?

Be subtler next time – even ‘nya’ rhymes with ‘zura’!

And I don’t get why nya’ll have anything to say

Because your school gets closed down anyway

Pretty sure it’s a rule – school idols need a school

So would you please not get up here and just look like fools

Not unless you just like being schooled?

 

Ruby

I… umm…

I’m really not good with this sudden attention…

Err…

T-The reason why we’re number one,

Is because we have the bestest onee-chan-

 

Announcer:

Oh sorry, my mistake!

It’s halftime now, I called it a bit late!

We have something extra to put on the viewers plate

Ain’t that great? So sorry Ruby, you’ll have to wait

Now, if you’re caught by surprise and thought that was it

Then you should’ve read the summary, you dimwit!

Please welcome to the show both A-RISE and Saint Snow

As we continue this rap battle between rival shows

Are both of you ready? Well then, let’s go!

 

Tsubasa:

Hey now, did you really forget about us?

We wrote the syllabus on school idol genius

It’s time to versus with our verses

We’re Venuses, now let me unleash my thesis:

We’re the first gen school idols, of which you’re disciples

Inspiring rivals and delivering titles

Winning Love Live showed that we’re who’s who among idols

And history will show that we should’ve had two

μ’s won the second, but it was just lucky

‘Cause we really should’ve won after playing “Shocking Party”

 

Sarah:

Saint Snow’s Sarah here, about to put it in your ear

About how we’re the superior set of rivals to our opponents here

When I awaken the power it’ll all turn sour for ya

Like the look that Erena always has on her resting bitch face

Maybe she’s just showing her distaste

For the outfits Anju makes: gaudy and lacking in grace

Designed by someone with no taste

The fashion world you debase with this walking disgrace

Kindly get this trash out of this place

Oh, and when you’re finished, take care of their costumes too

We’re taking no prisoners as we’re working this coup

 

Erena:

We’re the source who got μ’s originally inspired

Without A-RISE, this story doesn’t even get started

It’s not hard to see how that originally transpired

Our legacy is something that’ll never expire

And that’s something that can’t be said about you

“Hello there, we’re Saint Snow!” – I’m sorry, but who?

I’d say don’t slip, but I might be too late

Sorry, that quip was just an easy bait

Please don’t hate me for making it

But have you heard of rubber soles?

You might want to investigate

It might have stopped you from that mistake

It’s just a little something to contemplate

 

Leah:

No fear, it’s Leah on the mic from Saint Snow

Don’t test my self control, it’s about to get personal:

Miss Tsubasa of A-RISE, is there something wrong with your eyes?

Because you wink so often it gives your lids exercise

Like you’re blinking away flies from your stench of pigsties

You have a forehead you could land planes on

Your songs are plain and cliché; always drags on

We’re like pieces in chess – I’m queen and you’re pawn

I bet your parents regret having you as their spawn

And the other two aren’t even worth railing on

So that’s it, drop the mic, I’m so freaking done!

 

Anju:

You couldn’t keep it classy, now it’s a Private War

Shame this is PG-13

Or I’d call you daughters of a whor…se

Think I’ll pay reverence to your relevance?

That’s a reference I can’t countenance

You sure talk a big game

For someone who falls when they dance

We wrote the record book with our hooks

You’ve always left the stage shook

Sadly, not in a good way, instead

Walking away as prey to competition of the day

With your sorry displays, get out of the way

When A-RISE come to play, you should pray

You won’t come out alive at the end of the fray!

 

Announcer:

Who won? Who’s next? You decid-

Wait, actually it’s Ruby who’s next as we continue this text

I’m sorry for introducing some unnecessary subtext!

Let’s see if she can unleash a verbal suplex after having some time to think of her words next!

 

Ruby:

A-A ruby is a gem coloured red or pink,

A Ruby with one eye shut, that’s a red gem wink

And Ruby knows what everyone here likes to think

I’m just a loli who likes lollies, a cutie saying “Ganbaruby”

Dia’s always protectively next to me

Well, let me cut myself free

I’ll spit lines like an uzi to defeat these floozies

Your outfits are lame, your songs are plain

We have more fans than you’ll ever gain

We reign supreme in this school idol game

So leave while you can, before you get slain!

 

Hanayo:

This is Hanayo Koizumi, just listen to me

Rail on these dopes as easy as skipping rope

We push the envelope, they steal our tropes

They’re the dirt in much need of some soap

I feel unclean just from having watched them spoke

So here’s a joke…

Aqours

Run on back home to your mothers

Scour the smell of defeat in your showers

And leave the stage for those with the powers

Like one with a name that means flowers

AKA me! Hanayo Koizumi!

I could go endlessly,

But then I’d have to start charging fees.

 

Yoshiko:

This world is unbalanced, off-axis

So let me right it like Atlas

Because at last it’s time for Yohane’s target practice

Just a fallen angel who’s about to raise hell

I revel in rebellion, I’ve got eight little demons

To place these relics in museums or mausoleums

I’m ice cool like Cocytus, although my luck is in crisis

Our songs got a touch like Midas

Of school idols, we’re finest

Why listen to μ’s, they’re old like arthritis

I hope it won’t hurt when you kneel in front of Yohane: your Highness

 

Nico:

This is Nico Yazawa, about to hit you

With rhymes so dirty you’ll be needing a shower

You put on a brave act but you’re lacking in tact

You’re about to get smacked by my Love Nico Attack

You’ll be lucky if you get out of this verse intact

In fact, I’ve become a verbal magician, just listen

I’m Number One for a reason

Well, more than one, actually,

Nico Nii can think of three

So the star of BiBi will emcee and show you why

μ’s is the bees knees and Aqours are understudies

Reason one: because μ’s have me, okay, done

Reason two: because your dues are long overdue

Without us, there would never be you

Reason three is again, me: I’m amazingly, breathtakingly,

Incomparably above all of thee

Get on one knee and bow to my idol royalty!

 

Mari:

You want to know what me, Mari, thinks of these citysiders?

Beach, please! That’s what I prefer

I’m licenced to take my van

Up the new winding road to my seaside mansion

And I get to touch the chest of Kanan

And Dia with my bare hands-

 

Dia and Kanan:

Perverted woman!

 

Mari:

There’s a helicopter for when I want to sightsee

If I get bored, I have land in Italy

I need more ways to spend my money

Perhaps I’ll commission another statute or three

Let me give you some advice that’s free

Try not to mess with me, because I carry weaponry

Heavy metal and shiny, always kept close to me

Keep your distance like you’re supposed to be

Don’t make me use it when I get angry

That’s right, I carry…

Gold chains of jewellery

They really hurt if I use them carelessly!

 

Nozomi:

You wanna go toe to toe with Tojou from Tokyo?

You’re in for some woe as I hit you with my flow

This part-time, damn fine, chime-ringing shrine maiden

Will leave you shaken by my words, I’m just that brazen

We’re the dancing stars, and not Aqours

We’re the nine goddesses, you all are just novices

You think you’ve surpassed us, that’s your hypothesis?

How preposterous! Our skills are pure divine providence

Let me call into evidence something readily evident:

We’re the muses by name, being school idols’ our game

We brought the fame, and that’s something you can’t claim

Our group of nine, blessed from Kanda Shrine

Will stand the test of time, instead of Love Live Sunshine!

 

Kanan:

Delivering lines like a cannon, more truthful than canon

It’s me, Kanan; can we beat you? Yes we can and

I taught Chika how to do backflips for days

Your leader likes to pass out on stage after performing a twist

I’ll take a boat out; watch whales like a biologist

I’m an expert on it so I can tell you this

You have something in common – you both blow

I had to explain that ‘cause you seem a bit slow

In fact, I’d say you’re somewhat like fish

Like a starfish; I’ll explain: you both lack brains

You’re a shame to human evolutionary traits

You should be hit by a train of freight

Because everything about you all is second rate!

 

Eli:

This is Eli Ayase, listen to me when I say

I spray verses like an AK and I’m ready to slay

Trained in ballet, I’m a Bolshevik ballerina  

Sing like an ocarina with skills to sell out arenas

We’re the true queens, princesses, duchesses, reginas

You scavenge on our reputation like rabid hyenas

We’re Athenas and you’re already miles beneath us

We’re handsome and horosho and you’re just horrible

It’s a horror show just watching you, your skills are just terrible

We’re not even comparable, you’re just freaking unbearable

I’m kawaii and kashkoi, I could star in Bolshoi

In dance, any one of you I could destroy like cheap toys

Thrown by a baby in a cradle, I’m an angelic angel

Watching as you continue to flail and fail

I’m no guardian, you’ve gotta run

Because I string lines together just for fun

But never fear, we’ll cut it here and say that I’m done

Unless you’d like me to bust out an even better one?

 

Dia:

This is Dia “Even My Name Rhymes” Kurosawa

I spit straight fire when I want to

What I’ve aspired to ever since I started school

When I found mu’s: my pure, dove white first love

But where do I now stand when push comes to shove?

Do I burn my CDs like effigees?

Alight my Eli tees and nesoberis?

(And perhaps cry over the wasted fees)

I… I can’t do this, please!

I refuse to play a game which puts me ill at ease

I’d rather die, so write my eulogies

I’ll pray on my knees for the group which set my abc’s

I’m only sorry that I’m a failure as a sister, Ruby.

 

Ruby:

Onee-chan…

 

Chika:

Dia, you traitor!

 

You:

You’re meant to be a hater!

 

Kanan:

Worry about things later, we’re here to be debaters!

 

Announcer:

If I may say a few words as your arbitrator-

 

Honoka:

I’m sorry, but who even is this?

 

Announcer:

The name’s Akiba Reporter, check MyAnimeList

Of this battle, I think I get the jist

Generations of idols brawling with words instead of fists

I think some people might take things way too serious

So to sum things up, I’ll now say this:

The show’s called “Love Live”

It’s not meant to divide

And instead supply the kind of pride that

Only cute girls and pop songs can serve to provide

No need for hate or impassioned debate

Because in the end, they’re really both great

Don’t start shipping wars where there’s nothing at stake

It’s a mistake, dumb and simple, like the minds of such people

And instead, turn a hand to create and cultivate

A school idol paradise where ideas resonate

But enough of my evangelizing, proselytizing

I’ll get back to the writing and rhyming, it’s good timing

To close things off with one final chapter

And now deal with the most important matter

That is: Love Live is way better than IdolM@ster!

 

ALL:

And that, our friends, is our combined answer!

We hope you’ve enjoyed your school idol rappers!

 

Review Here!

 

TITLE: i never wanted to need someone
RATING: PG
PROMPT: "I can accept failure, everyone fails at something. But I can't accept not trying." -Michael Jordan
FANDOM/SERIES: Granblue Fantasy
WORD COUNT: 3,978
DISCLAIMER:  I do not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
SUMMARY: Princess Societte can't - doesn't want to - imagine the rest of her life spent with a stranger that's sure to be dull.

What she isn't expecting is a girl like fire to blow through her doors and integrate seamlessly into her life until Societte can't imagine life without her.

i never wanted to need someone

When she is age five and learning how to read, Societte is fed on a steady diet of stories.

 

Most of them are fantastical, involving dragons and knights and magic that favors those who win a battle. Societte listens and is captivated by tales of princesses who are strong and capable and do the rescuing instead of being the ones needing rescuing.

 

She falls a little in love with those princesses with every new story that she hears. Someday, Societte thinks, she's going to be one of them.

 

Evelyn simply smiles at her daughter whenever she makes such proclamations. They're made from pure childhood innocence, and who is she to discourage such things?

 

When Societte is ten and has devoured every tale available to her, she begins to realize that being a queen will not necessarily be as exciting as she's been led to believe.

 

Her father begins to teach her how to run a country, and while Societte can't say that she dislikes it, it's much duller than she expected it to be. "Father," she asks one time, tugging on a sleeve of his robes to get his attention, "why do we have to do so many things?"

 

"Because, sweetie, we don't want ordinary people to worry about these sorts of things. That's what being a ruler is about, yes?"

 

Societte nods, but then she looks up to really see her father and takes in the grey hairs, the wrinkles, and the tiredness in his eyes. "But it looks so hard, Father. Can I really do it?"

 

Alastair laughs (but it's a sad sort of sound, Societte can tell) and picks his daughter up. "Of course you can. You're more capable than you think you are, and I wouldn't want anyone else running this country after me and your mother. I'm only sad that I can't give you any other choices."

 

"I'll be alright!" Societte beams. She's still a kid, she can't deny that not being able to be just like her childhood heroes is a little disappointing, but the relief and the small smile on Alastair's face is worth it. "You'll teach me everything?"

 

"Of course I will. I'll be able to help you every step of the way."

 

 

 

 

True to his word, Alastair makes sure that either he or his wife is always there to ease Societte into her future royal duties. Evelyn brings Societte to her first meeting when she's thirteen and sits her in the back, where Societte nearly falls asleep listening to old men arguing over one financial issue or another. Alastair starts taking Societte on cross-country trips with him when she turns fourteen, where she enjoys the company of people her age that the public would approve of.

 

When Societte turns seventeen, she first begins to hear about marriage and she panicks.

 

"Societte, remember what I told you before?" Alastair tries to calm her. "I did say that I was going to help you every step of the way. This is no exception."

 

"Yes," Societte says, sounding confident but extremely lost.

 

"It won't be so bad!" Evelyn chimes in. "Me and your father were an arranged marriage, and we've turned out fine, if I do say so myself."

 

"Yes," Societte says, sounding less confident and still extremely lost.

 

Alastair smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. "I give you my word as a king and as your father that everything will be absolutely fine. And if not, well…"

 

He trails off, unsure, before brightening back up. "We'll find another way. We're not the rulers of this country for nothing, yes?"

 

"Yes," Societte repeats one more time, before involuntarily letting out a yawn that she had been holding in for the duration of the impromptu meeting. "Can I...can I go to bed now?"

 

"Of course you can, we've kept you awake long enough. And don't worry about a thing, okay? Let us do the worrying for you. Or, well, most of the worrying. Okay?"

 

"M'kay, good night."

 

One last yawn, and Societte retreats back towards her room, anxiety allayed enough to allow her to drift into a dreamless sleep. Alastair and Evelyn stay up a little while longer, preparing letters to be sent out the next day before turning out all the lights and going to bed themselves.

 

(The next morning, Societte wakes up in another panic - in worrying about her future, she had completely forgotten about her imminent doom. And as much as her tutor loves Societte, she doesn't think that failing to pass yet another history exam will endear herself any more to her teacher.

 

The issue of marriage completely slips Societte's mind when she has to sit through nearly an hour of disappointed teacher mumblings and convince her that it'll never happen again, promise.)

 

 

 

 

One by one, over the course of a month, the letters start to come in. Some of them are polite refusals, stating that their heir already has a marriage planned or is currently too occupied with other matters to deal with anything else at the moment. Some have a tinge of regret to them, saying something along the lines of "wish we could help, send us an invitation to the wedding!"

 

However good the intentions are, though, one thing is becoming very clear - the royal family is running out of time and options fast.

 

"What we think will work," Evelyn presents to Societte one day over breakfast, "is we pick one of your father's best knights. You don't have to do this, we'll make sure to cancel all the plans if you don't want to go through with them. But if you're willing to give this a chance, I'll bring her over during lunch so you two can get to know each other."

 

"O-Okay," Societte speaks through her half-asleep state. Then it hits her, halfway through a bite of egg, and she nearly drops her fork in surprise.

 

"Her?" she blurts out. "It's - um, it's a girl?"

 

"Er…yes?"

 

Evelyn shoots Alastair a look over the table, as if to say See? I told you we should have asked first. "I hope that you don't mind...she's one of our best, physically and morally - "

 

"I! Don't mind at all, I'd love to…meet her…"

 

Societte trails off, but her parents continue to look at her until she mutters "better than marrying a wrinkly old man."

 

That sets everyone off in hearty laughter. "Better not let the other princes hear that," Alistair wheezes out - "oh, but I'll set everything up, you just need to be back here for lunch."

 

"M'kay!" Societte manages between bites of her previously forgotten egg. "I'll try not to be late."

 

 

 

 

Societte is, in fact, horrifyingly early.

 

Her nerves convince her that it's better to sit in front of the dining hall for half an hour than risk a last minute duty or two taking up her time. Then they switch to worrying about whether or not there's something urgent that Societte should be doing, then to wondering if she's late after all, because there's pacing noises coming from inside the room…?

 

Or, she shudders, it might be someone dangerous.

 

Oh, she hates this, but this is all part of being a better ruler, right?

 

Right.

 

Societte takes a few deep breaths, then flings a door open and draws a dagger from her undergarments. "Excuse me," she says, hoping to every deity she can think of that her voice isn't trembling, "but I'm afraid you're not supposed to be - "

 

She locks eyes with another girl. She looks around Societte's age; long dark hair, light armor, rather beautiful face frozen in an expression of shock at Societte ready to hurl a weapon at her chest.

 

"Oh, sh - uh," she stutters. "You the princess?"

 

All that Societte can do is blink. "I - I am? Are you the knight?"

 

"Yeah, that's me" is all that the other girl can get out before she doubles over in laughter.

 

"So sorry," she wheezes, "this is just so surreal, you don't even know my name yet and we're supposed to be married in, like, four months, and then you nearly attack me. It's - oh man - it's Yuel, by the way. My name."

 

"I'm Societte…but I guess you knew that already, huh."

 

"Aw, I don't mind you telling me again! 'S like the normal dating process, where you get to know the other person and decide whether you like 'em or not."

 

The only thing that manages to do is bring an awkward silence over the room.

 

"Which reminds me, I can't believe I'm asking this when we've only been talking for a few minutes, but do you like me? Doesn't have to be romantic in any way, but I'm not about to let the princess of this country do something that she doesn't want to."

 

A bemused smile crosses Societte's face. "I don't...hate you, if that's what you mean. But, um, what do you mean about not making me…?"

 

"You're kidding me." Yuel outright stares at Societte, not caring anymore if it comes off as rude.

 

Societte shrinks back into herself, shaking her head rapidly.

 

"Oh no, I'm so sorry, I was told that you're not great with strangers but I didn't think before I - "

 

Yuel rubs her eyes hard, then grins sheepishly. "Lemme try that again. You've got your own reasons for this sort of thing, right? If ya don't mind, I'd love to hear some of those."

 

Unable to think of anything self-demeaning for once in her life, Societte can only gape at Yuel. Yuel blinks back, unaware of the mess inside Societte's head. "Uh, did I say something wrong?" she squeaks out. "I thought I was good at this sort of thing, but apparently not."

 

"We're both terrible at this," Societte says so mournfully and with such a straight face that all it takes is one glance from Yuel for them both burst out in laughter.

 

Societte stops laughing last and raises her head. Yuel is looking at her so earnestly, with a toothy grin on her face and and eyes shining so brightly that it's suddenly hard for Societte to breathe. "Mother and Father gave me an option," she mumbles, dropping her head so her gaze is pointed towards the ground. "I can marry or not, it would be my own choice. But it's for the good of the country, isn't it? I really would like for us to have peace, and happiness, and...all of those storybook-kingdom-sounding things. But I can't do it on my own, and I don't know how i feel about anyone else running the country."

 

Making a small noise in the back of her throat, Yuel nods sagely. "Can't say I understand your exact situation, but I think I get it. It's like me 'n King Alastair; I'm one of his personal guards, but sometimes he wants to use someone else for a task. Which is fine, I mean, he can do what he wants, y'know? But I feel sorta anxious with his life in someone else's hands."

 

"Yes, that's - that's exactly how I feel!" Societte exclaims, excitement entering her voice for the first time today. Too late, she realizes her slip-up and slaps a hand over her own mouth, but Yuel is there to gently pry it away (and then lets go in embarrassment).

 

"Ya don't have to restrain yourself around me. I'm constantly over-energetic anyway, at least that's what everyone else in my unit tells me, so don't worry about comin' off too strong!"

 

"Thanks, really. It's...maybe too soon to tell, but I feel...nice around you. That's what I think of you right now, um, to answer your previous question."

 

"Oh!" Yuel's face lights up and she beams at Societte. "I think you're a really good friend too, so I'll make ya a deal of sorts, okay?"

 

That catches Societte off-guard. "...Sure? What is it?"

 

Yuel leans in conspiratorially - Societte can't help but mirror her motions. "I'm thinking, you give me a month. I court you, do all those things that people do when they're dating. Then when the month's up, if ya don't feel like I'm the kind of person you could spend the rest of your life with, call off the engagement."

 

Whatever Societte was expecting, that was not it. "B-but," she stammers, eyes widening, "what about - "

 

"Aw, don't think about what anyone else is gonna say. King - uh, your dad told you that you have a choice, right? That definitely means that he trusts your judgement, and he's got somethin' up his sleeve no matter what you choose. So don't stress over it too much, just go by your instincts. Promise?"

 

Yuel sticks out her pinky finger.

 

Societte stares at it, half wanting to giggle at the childish innocence of the action, half wanting to truly let go of her inhibitions like Yuel had suggested that she do. She hesitantly reaches out her own pinky, linking it with Yuel's, and shakes their hands once.

 

"Then," she says quietly, "how about we start with...lunch? I'm starting to feel hungry."

 

"Thought you'd never ask!" Yuel laughs. "I'm feelin' starved too."

 

She skips off towards the opposite end of the table from Societte's chair, but this time Societte is the one who reaches out to stop her. "Wait, please," she speaks haltingly, and tugs Yuel's arm once. "I want...could you sit next to me? It's easier to talk to you that way."

 

Yuel's smile grows even bigger, something that Societte didn't even know was possible. She follows Societte's lead without further prompting, bouncing like an overeager puppy in her excitement.

 

"Anything for you, princess!"

 

 

 

The first thing that Societte discovers from spending time with Yuel is that it makes her ridiculously happy when the other girl greets her in the morning.

 

She's managed to convince her parents to not go public with any announcements yet, not until she's gotten to know Yuel better. Her and Yuel's little deal is still a secret, and the logic holds up in the face of scrutiny, so for now, Yuel remains a friend in the public eye.

 

A friend. A friend that she spends almost all of her free time with. A friend that, frankly, Societte may have developed a tiny crush on, but she has no idea how to approach the subject at all.

 

...She's fine with just continuing their nightly talks over a plate of midnight snacks. Yuel was the one who started them, barging into Societte's room one day and whining about not being able to sleep. Which she regretted almost immediately, seeing how startled Societte was at her sudden unannounced entrance, leading to a good ten minutes being dedicated to apologies and you don't need to apologize, honest, and I need to stop coming a centimeter from stabbing you in the heart.

 

It's the perfect way to wind down after a long and stressful day, and Societte wonders why she didn't do this before. Yuel talks about dumb things that happen during training (someone accidentally making a hole in a stone wall, for example). Societte complains about her ever-increasing list of royal duties, the towering stack of paperwork assigned by Alastair on her desk, the not-quite-mandatory meetings full of stubborn old men that she really, really does not want to deal with.

 

"Hell, all this political stuff sounds tiring. Don't you ever wish you could leave it all?" Yuel sighs one day, flopping dramatically onto Societte's bed.

 

Societte just shrugs as best as she can and buries her head into Yuel's lap.

 

"I chose this, so I don't mind terribly. But dealing with so many different people in just one day…"

 

She lets out a long yawn appropriate to the conversation. Yuel laughs and sits back up to play with Societte's hair.

 

"Now that ya mention it, I should probably be going soon. Gotta get that beauty sleep, yeah?"

 

"Mmm," Societte agrees half-heartedly, but doesn't show any intention of moving from her current spot.

 

"I mean it!"

 

"Mmmmmm. What if I don't want to?"

 

Yuel sticks out her tongue but doesn't attempt to do anything more. "You're spoiled, that's what you are."

 

"Aren't you the one who spoils me?"

 

"Aw, heck."

 

Face delightfully red, Yuel turns to face the door and all Societte can do is giggle. "Oh, but in all seriousness, can you... do me a favor?"

 

"Huh? 'Course I can, what d'you need?"

 

"W-Well, there's a ball coming up that Father's hosting to celebrate the anniversary of the kingdom's foundation, and...I have to go, but I go every year. It really isn't too big of a deal. But every year, Mother allows me to bring a plus one. And I was...was thinking…"

 

Just say it, Societte's consciousness screams at her, but her mouth seems to be physically frozen in place.

 

"You were thinking…?" Yuel prompts, head cocked to one side in mild curiosity. "But hey, ya haven't been this nervous around me in a really long time. If ya don't want to say it, don't push yourself."

 

"No, I want to do this," Societte blurts out. She watches Yuel raise an eyebrow at her in doubt, then exhales loudly once and tries again.

 

"I was thinking...do you want to be my plus one? It...It'll be fun, and I think I might actually be...lonely without you there."

 

"Oh," Yuel says, face turning an even brighter shade of red. "I dunno, I don't mind goin' with you, but...ya don't care what anyone else is gonna say when they see me there?"

 

"Hey. You were the one who told me not to care, weren't you?"

 

"You're right, I did, I'm proud of you. Look at ya, using my own words against me!"

 

And in one swift move, Yuel's kneeling down on the floor and taking one of Societte's hands in her own, pressing a swift kiss onto her knuckles and standing up as if nothing had happened. Societte's eyes snap up, but Yuel is already looking away from her and on her way out the door.

 

"Anything for you, princess."

 

 

 

 

The days fly by in an flurry of anxiety and far too many outfit preparations, and the ball arrives with disappointingly little fanfare.

 

Societte tugs on the collar of her dress, wondering if it's physically possible for it to get even lower than it already is. "Isn't this...a little excessive?" she whispers. "I'm not, um, trying to seduce anyone…"

 

"Oh, honey," is all that she gets in response from Evelyn. Her mother - her own mother - winks at her and nudges her lightly, mouthing go get 'em before exiting the room to do some of her own preparations before the event starts.

 

Societte thinks that she dies a little on the inside.

 

A little voice pipes up from behind Societte, and she's very suddenly reminded that there is, in fact, someone else in the room. "I," Lyria, her handmaiden, says hesitantly, "can fix that if you want? I don't think you need to seduce anyone...Yuel's really nice, she already loves you, she won't care about a thing like this."

 

"I know that, but that just makes it worse."

 

Holding her head in her hands, Societte moans in despair - then something in her brain clicks, and her head flies back up.

 

"Wait. Could you...could you repeat that?"

 

"Uh?" Lyria blinks rapidly. "I can fix your dress? Yuel's really nice? She loves you - "

 

"She does?"

 

"It's...I hate to say this, I really do, but it's a little obvious? You two aren't...exactly...subtle."

 

"She…"

 

Patting down her neckline, Societte straightens her back with new resolve. "I...I'll leave it like this. I have something...important to do tonight."

 

"Oh? O-Oh!"

 

Lyria's eyes sparkle as she jumps up from her previous position and patters over to Societte. She squeezes her around the torso in an almost breathtaking hug, being careful not to ruin the dress; Societte allows this one hug to fill her up with all of the confidence that she knows she's going to need tonight.

 

"You're going to do great," Lyria assures her.

 

"I sure hope so," Societte replies shakily, allowing herself to stop and give Lyria one last headpat.

 

She exhales loudly.

 

Turns around.

 

Walks out of the room, into the hallway, and towards her certain doom.

 

The classical music that's playing almost (almost) makes Societte want to scream, but she doesn't. Tonight, she acts as a proper princess should - back ramrod straight; taking small, gliding steps; quietly and demurely making her way towards the ballroom.

 

Yuel is there already, waiting for her, and it shouldn't surprise Societte as much as it does because they had already agreed upon this beforehand. But there's something about the way that Yuel wears her simple, almost minimalistic black sheath dress - something about the way that the fur lining of it curls almost invitingly along her neck - that makes her seem like a blazing fire, and that sets Societte herself on fire and gives her the courage to take Yuel's offered arm.

 

She doesn't miss the quick once-over that she's given, nor the lingering gaze on her neckline.

 

"Um," Yuel says thickly, struggling to get the words out. "May I have this dance?"

 

"You certainly may," Societte laughs before spinning them both into orbit and joining the clusters of couples already occupying the dance floor.

 

They spend some moments purely enjoying the action of dancing with each other, holding each other close  and twirling their way across the floor. Yuel dips Societte once, completely out of the blue, and Societte comes up laughing before she remembers what, exactly, she was planning to do.

 

She leans in close - closer - until her lips are barely touching Yuel's left ear, and whispers "it's been a month, hasn't it?"

 

Yuel goes through a myriad of expressions in just a few seconds. Confused, understanding, and fear cycle across her face until she finally settles on resignation. "I get it. But I tried my best, so you can do whatever - "

 

"Let me finish," Societte smiles, pressing a finger against Yuel's lips to make her stop talking.

 

"When I was young, Mother read me all sorts of stories. They - well, they weren't the most realistic ones, since they had dragons and magic and we obviously don't have those. But my favorite stories were always the ones with the princesses, with the strong princesses that seemed capable of doing anything that they set their mind to."

 

Yuel's eyes progressively grow wider, but she doesn't dare talk. Societte removes her finger and lets her hand hover uselessly between them.

 

"I loved those princesses. I always thought that I'd want to be one, but I know now that I can't. I'm too shy, not fond of conflicts, would rather deal with paperwork than with my own countrymen. But I still love them, even now."

 

Yuel's eyebrows are positively up to the ceiling at this point.

 

"...You remind me of them, if I must tell the truth."

 

"And?" Yuel blurts out, unable to contain herself anymore. "Are ya tryin' to say that - "

 

"I am. I'm trying to say that I love you, Yuel, and I'm sorry for being so rude to you at first. And, um, if you still want to, would you do me the honor of marrying me?"

 

Yuel squeals, which...would probably be a more enjoyable experience if they weren't only a few centimeters apart. Her hands fly up from Societte's waist to her face, closing what little distance is left until they're properly kissing, mouths moving together awkwardly and teeth bumping but it's perfect, it's absolutely perfect.

 

They both pull away at the same time, gasping and oxygen-deprived, and Yuel takes the opportunity to giddily twirl Societte one more time before holding her tightly in her arms again.

 

"Anything for you, my princess."

Review Here!

 

FanFiction Competition Guidelines

Great news for all writers of FanFiction: The 2018 SMASH! Fanfiction Competition is now open!

Come and join in the fun of SMASH! by participating in our FanFiction competition. Have fun twisting the canon or disregarding it entirely. This competition is open to anyone of any age and any skill level - you don’t have to be a professional author to become a FanFiction writer!

All participants will receive detailed feedback for their entries from experienced writers!

To be in on the action write a ficlet (<1000 words) or a short story (1001-7500 words) inspired by one of the prompts below. A winner will be announced in both categories - Prizes are to be announced!

Never heard of FanFiction?

Are you someone who wonders “what if?” when you think about your favourite anime? Do you read manga and think “if only the creators had changed this…”?

Why not try writing your own version of your favourite story by rewriting the ending of an episode or forcing two manga characters into an unusual situation? The possibilities are endless in the world of FanFiction!

Entries must incorporate at least one anime, manga or Japanese pop culture icon (such as a celebrity or idol), but crossovers between non-Japanese stories are welcome! Please send any questions to fanfic@smash.org.au and HAPPY WRITING!

Prompts

Please use one of the following prompts:

1. Destroying things is much easier than making them
   - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games

2. It’s ironic really, the man who hates the world is most loved by it
   - Anna Todd, After Ever Happy

3. If Cinderella’s shoe fit perfectly, why did it fall off?
   - Unkown

4. I can accept failure, everyone fails at something. But I can’t accept not trying
   - Michael Jordan

5. If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.
   - Haruki Murakami
   
   

FanFiction Competition Guidelines

1. Who can enter?

   1. The competition is open to both Australian and International participants.

   2. SMASH! Staff and Volunteers can submit entries for judging. Unfortunately, these will not be eligible for prizes

2. Entries must be submitted in English.

3. Entries must be submitted to fanfic@smash.org.au by 11:59PM (AEST) on Friday the 28th of July 2018

4. All entries must be entirely the author(s) own work.

5. Fanfics must have a maximum rating of “PG”, as defined in the guidelines set by the Australian Classification Board. Entries that are considered to be rated above “PG” will not be eligible for judging.

6. Entries must incorporate one or more anime, manga or Japanese game fandoms’ characters and/or story. Crossovers of Japanese fandoms with non-Japanese fandoms are permitted.

7. Authors may submit a maximum of 3 entries.

   1. If an entry is a collaborative effort between two or more authors, it will be considered as one entry for each author.

   2. Authors must fill out a submission form for each entry entered in the competition.

8. Categories for submission of entries are:

   1. Ficlet 500-1000 words

   2. Short Story 1001-5000 words

In the event that a category does not have enough submissions, that category will be removed.

9. Stories that are less than the minimum ficlet word limit or more than the maximum short story word limit may be penalised by the judges if they are excessively outside the word limit.

10. Prompts information:

    1. Author(s) must use one of the prompts supplied to inspire their story.

    2. Author(s) must only list one of the prompts on the submission form. The prompt listed by the author will be used for judging purposes. If the story was inspired by more than one prompt the author should list the prompt that is most relatable to their story.

11. Authors will need to provide a short summary of their story for the general audience and for judging purposes. The fanfic summary should be no more than 50 words and is not included in the word count for the entry submitted.

12. Entries will be anonymous for judging purposes, so stories submitted to the competition should not be put up on other websites before the competition results are announced.

13. It is a condition of entry that all eligible entries will be displayed on the SMASH! Fanfic Competition Archive (smashcon.dreamwidth.org) for judging purposes.

14. Entries can incorporate any pairing dynamics (gen, het, boys love and girls love) as long as the content of the fanfic remains PG.

15. SMASH! reserves the right to disqualify entries that do not comply with these rules. SMASH! takes no responsibility for the entrant's use of copyrighted material.

Submission Guidelines

1. Entries should be submitted by email to: fanfic@smash.org.au

2. Formating:

   1. Entries should be submitted as .txt .doc or .docx

   2. A dreamwidth html formatted document is preferred, but we will accept non-html entries. See dreamwidth tags for a list of html tags that you can use. For example: <b>Example</b>  <u>Example </u>  <i>Example</i>

   3. Entries that are not html formatted documents should have simple formatting so that conversion to html by our coordinator is a quick and simple process.

3. All entries will be made anonymous for judging purposes so elaborate formatting and references to the author will be removed.

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Personal Details

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• Penname/Alias:

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• Summary:

Judging

1. Each entry will be displayed to the general public on smashcon.dreamwidth.org. Online voting forms will be available to the general public. Voting for entries will be based on the following criteria:

   1. Characterisation

   2. Creativity

   3. How well the prompt is used.

2. Authors are encouraged to promote the competition and judging by the public audience on the provision that they do not reveal which entry or entries they submitted.

3. Each entry will also be evaluated by the panel of judges on the following criteria:

   1. How well the prompt is used

   2. Quality of fanfic summary.

   3. Quality of writing

   4. Creativity

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   6. Overall Impression

4. The Judging Panel will provide feedback for each entry.

5. Winners will be determined by a combination of the results from the general public and the judges. The winners will be announced at the closing ceremony of SMASH! and entrants contacted shortly after the event.

 

Prizes

1. A prize will be awarded to the author(s) of the winning entry of the ficlet category and the short story category.

2. If winners have not replied within a month after the event their prize will be forfeit.

Note: The prizes for this competition are to be decided.

If you have any questions about the guidelines or anything about the competition in general, feel free to send us an email at fanfic@smash.org.au

Title: second place in a two-player game
Rating: PG
Prompt: The future rewards those who press on. I don't have time to feel sorry for myself. I don't have time to complain. I'm going to press on. - Barack Obama
Fandom/Series: Haikyuu!!
Word Count: 506
Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
Summary: Oikawa wakes up early on the final day of the Spring High Playoffs and promptly goes back to sleep.

 

( Read more... )

Title: Two Punch Men
Rating: PG
Prompt: A man learns to skate by staggering about and making a fool of himself. Indeed he progresses in all things by resolutely making a fool of himself. 
- George Bernard Shaw, Advice to a Young Critic
Fandom/Series: One Punch Man
Word Count: 3102
Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
Summary: Saitama accidentally clones himself. Genos is suspicious of the clone, but Saitama doesn't have a problem with him. Meanwhile, an evil scientist waits for the results of his newest weapon.

Two Punch Men

“There’s another me.” Saitama pointed to the mirror.

“How insightful, Master.” Genos opened up a notebook and scribbled down the line. “There’s another me…”

“Oh. There’s another me,” said the Saitama in the mirror.

The Saitama not in the mirror stared at the Saitama in the mirror. The mirror Saitama looked exactly like him, except the red on his sweater was blue instead. The Saitama in the mirror stared back. Genos looked from one Saitama to the other.

The Saitama not in the mirror shrugged and lay down on the floor. Whatever.

“Master. Should we not do something about the impostor?”

“Nah. He can stay.” Who cares about an impostor? So long as the guy didn’t try to give him a bad name, who cares? Besides, if he stayed around, maybe he could help Saitama move up the ranks a bit.

“Huh. Thanks,” said the Saitama from the mirror. Mirror-tama. Sai-mirror. Saitamirror? Maitama?

Saitama shrugged and picked up a manga from his shelf.

“Master, where did this other Master come from?”

“Uh…” Saitama looked at the mirror that Maitama had just come from, and thought about what had happened yesterday. “Maybe the cloning machine?”

“What cloning machine, Master Saitama?”

Saitama put the manga down and looked at Genos. “The other day I was walking home and some guy came up to me. He showed me this thing that looked like a mirror and said it was a cloning machine. I thought he was nuts, but he was selling it for 100 yen and it didn’t look like anything was wrong with it. So I bought it and took it home.”

“I remember that,” said Maitama. He looked behind himself. “So I guess I’m your clone?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Cool.” Maitama lay down on the floor and joined Saitama in reading manga.

 

Somewhere vaguely far away an evil scientist laughed evilly in his secret evil underground lab, because he was so evil. He wore nothing but a lab coat and a pair of hotpants that said ‘evil’ across the butt.

 

“I, the scientist Doctor Super Evil Dude, have finally created the perfect weapon for defeating heroes…” He laughed evilly again, just so everyone knew just how evil he was, and looked at his computer screen, which was lit up with several hundred numbers. He stared at them for a bit, deciphering what they meant in relation to his super evil project, and then switched to a different interface because he couldn’t work out what the numbers meant. He read through the data being sent by his machine and laughed evilly again, then coughed because of all the evil laughing he was doing. “My cloning machine is working very well…I’m so glad I picked such a boring, weak guy to test it on, because then I can make sure it works perfectly with no threat to me at all.”

He spun around in his evil supervillain chair and explained to no one in particular how the machine worked. “This machine will clone heroes, but so they are ever so slightly different, and ever so slightly stronger. They will befriend the hero and then…murder them.”

Doctor Super Evil Dude’s laughter echoed through his empty hideout, making him think about how lonely he was. Maybe he should hire some evil minions. Get a pet cat or something.

 

“Attention, City Z.” The man on the TV straightened out some papers. “A giant squid man is rampaging through the city. Current threat level: Tiger.”

“I’ll go. Genos, you stay here. I don’t want you stealing my thunder again.”

Genos nodded, then looked to Maitama. “What about you, other Master?”

He shrugged. “I’ll stay here too. I’m a pacifist.”

“I’m not a pacifist though. Aren’t we the same person?” Unless he meant something like ‘not hurting other people’. Saitama never deliberately hurt other people. He only killed the monsters that were threats to them.

“Yeah, but I guess I’m a bit different. I don’t remember becoming a pacifist, but I am now. Even for monsters.”

“Alright then.” Saitama quickly jumped into his hero clothes and stepped out onto his balcony. “I’ll be back in a bit.” He jumped off the balcony and ran to the giant squid monster.

Maitama looked out and watched him run, then sat down at the table and looked at Genos. “What would you say are my – or your Master Saitama’s – biggest weaknesses? I want to train to get rid of them.”

“You have no weaknesses, master Saitama. You are physically superior to everyone.”

“Hmm.” Maitama rested his head on his hand. “What about weaknesses that aren’t physical?”

“Master Saitama is rather unpopular. I would assume that by extension you are too. He is also insecure about the status of his hair, which-”

“Don’t say another word,” said Maitama.

“Yes, other Master. I apologise. But you are the one who asked about it. These are the only weaknesses of yours I can think of.”

“Well, alright then.”  Maitama pulled a manga off the shelf. “I’ll keep those in mind.”

 

Genos watched as the other Master Saitama read the manga. Was he actually like Master Saitama, or was he dangerous? Genos would need to observe this man further to determine whether he was safe to be around. For all he knew, this other Master could be a threat to them. If he had the same power as Master, but not the same ideals, the city could be in danger. Was that why he was asking about Master’s weaknesses? Did he want to defeat Master, then destroy the whole city?

It was possible that he was in fact a pacifist as he said he was, and Genos hoped that was the case. But perhaps he should prepare for the possibility that this other Master might try to harm them.

The front door swung open and clicked shut. Genos turned around to see Master Saitama coming home.

“How was it, Master? Did the giant squid man stand a chance against you?”

“As always, I was hoping for a challenge, but it turned out to be weak. I barely had to poke it.” Master Saitama sighed and went to seat himself, but could not find a clear space on the ground. “Hey, it’s kinda crowded in here, guys.”

“Your apartment is rather small, Master,” said Genos.

“Why don’t we do something outside?” suggested the other Master. “We need to go and buy groceries, anyway.”

“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. Let’s go do that.”

Was this just a ploy to remove Master Saitama from the house? Was this other Master trying to attack Master while his guard was down?

Genos would come along, just in case.

 

Doctor Super Evil Dude laughed evilly and stroked his new pet cat/minion as he watched the new data come in from the clone. Yes…the clone was befriending this Saitama fellow.

Saitama, also known as the Caped Baldy, a Class C hero. Doctor Super Evil Dude knew he’d made the right choice by picking this man. He was a hero – exactly who the weapon was made for – but he was only some Class C weakling. He would never be able to defeat his clone.

The two Saitamas walked into a grocery store (the perfect place for a hero fight, if you’d ask Super Evil Dude) with someone behind them. Probably one of the original Saitama’s friends. Another Class C loser or someone similar. No strong person would hang around someone so weak.

Though he had originally planned for the clone to kill the original in his sleep, it would be so much more interesting if they had a public fight. It was lucky that Doctor Super Evil Dude had a switch right here that he could flip to immediately turn the clone into its Super Evil Murder Mode. It was the perfect chance to test it.

Doctor Super Evil waited for the two Saitamas to pick up a shopping basket each, then flipped the switch.

 

Maitama looked up at Saitama. “Do you feel a weird tingle?”

Saitama shook his head.

“Huh.” Maitama looked down at the selection of fish. “I feel a tingling in my head.”

Saitama picked up a package and looked at the price. “Maybe it’s because of the bargains here. This fish is so cheap.” He put the fish in his basket and moved on.

“Yeah, that’s probably it. Who knows what sort of power bargains have?” Maitama followed Saitama. “Whatever. It’s gone now.”

 

Doctor Super Evil Dude gave a super evil frustrated growl. How could his Super Evil Murder Mode not have worked? Super Evil Murder Mode made sure that the clone’s anger was intensified by 500%.

Well. Maybe the waves didn’t reach the clone properly.

He’d just have to get closer. Doctor Super Evil Dude would go to the city in his Super Evil Mecha, which looked like him, but bigger and made of metal. Using his Super Evil Mecha, he would destroy the city and get the Super Evil Murder Mode waves to reach the clone. Then the clone would destroy the original and kill the whole city, proving his prototype was a success.

This scheme was perfect. Nothing about it could go wrong.

 

“Oh! Sardines in oil. I love those.” The other Master Saitama checked the price of the tinned sardines and then looked in his wallet. “Damn. I don’t have enough.”

“I will pay for them.” Genos stepped up and handed two tins to the other Master Saitama. “These are my favourite.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right.” The other Master gave Genos a thumbs up. “We can share them later.”

“Thank you, other Master.” Genos gave him the coins. This was what he’d been hoping for. He would get the other Master alone, then interrogate him about his goals. Genos would make sure this other Master would tell the truth. He would make sure that Master and the rest of the city would be safe.

“You don’t have to keep calling me that, you know.” The other Master turned around. “I have the same memories as the other Saitama, but I know I’m different. I’m not your master. Just call me Maitama like he’s been.”

“Yes, Master Maitama.”

Master Maitama was about to say something, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of metalling stomping.

Was it the giant cyborg that had destroyed his hometown? Genos glanced at Master Maitama. “I will return soon.” Genos ran outside to investigate.

A man piloted a giant mechanical object possibly made to resemble a human, but not resembling a human besides the two limbs it had at the bottom. It lumbered forward slowly, awkwardly lifting each leg to a 90° angle before plunging it down, leaving a giant footprint stamped in the ground. Civilians ran from under the robot’s body, taking shelter wherever they could.

What a shame. It was not the giant cyborg that had destroyed his home.

Genos walked back inside the grocery store. Many of the customers hid as debris and packaged goods fell from the quakes brought on by the metal giant’s footsteps.

“Master Saitama! Master Maitama!”

“I still have to pay!” shouted Master Saitama from the register. “Give me a moment! Jeez.”

 

Doctor Super Evil Dude stood his mecha outside the grocery store. This thing was a little shakier than he thought. He’d have to fix it up a little when he returned to his Super Evil Lair.

The two Caped Baldys walked out of the grocery store with their bags of shopping and looked up. Doctor Super Evil Dude turned on the microphone and speakers of his mecha.

“Attention, Saitamas!”

The clone looked at the original and dropped his shopping bag on the ground next to him. It destroyed the pavement below and sent a shockwave through the ground. Doctor Super Evil Dude frantically fiddled with switches and levers to make sure his Super Evil Mecha didn’t fall over.

“My name is Doctor Super Evil Dude.” He held out his mecha’s hand and used the flamethrower on its finger to set fire to a tree to make sure they knew how entirely absolutely evil he was. “Do you remember me from yesterday?” The screen on the mecha’s body brought up a picture of him with the cloning machine, selling it to Saitama.

“Who are you?” The Saitamas called in unison.

Doctor Super Evil Dude screamed in frustration. “I’m Doctor Super Evil Dude and I’m going to be the best supervillain! I may be just a beginner, but I can do it! I’m going make sure my clone kills the original Saitama, so I can prove my first weapon was a success! Clone! Super Evil Murder Mode!”

The clone stood and waited. “I feel that weird tingle again.”

“Is he trying to sell us something cheap?”

“No, I think he’s trying to do the Super Murder Evil mode, but instead, he’s just making a fool of himself.”

Doctor Super Evil Dude growled at his statement. “Why haven’t you gone Super Evil Murder Mode? It should have increased your anger by 500%!”

“Oh. I guess it’s because I don’t have any anger.” The clone shrugged.

“Fine!” shouted Doctor Super Evil Dude. “I guess I’ll just have to go on a rampage and kill the original Saitama myself!” He hit a big red button. The arms of the mecha turned into knives. “I hope you like being stabbed, Saitama!”

The swift knives stabbed towards the Saitamas, whipping up a cloud of dust as they flew. Soctor Super Evil Dude couldn’t see anything, but here was no way any of those could have missed. Saitama was a measly Class C hero, no way he’d be strong or fast enough to-

One of the knives stopped moving. Both knives stopped moving. What was happening to his super-fast stabbing? The dust cleared and each of the Saitamas held a huge knife-arm with their bare hands.

“Should I just punch it?” asked the original Saitama.

“Okay,” said the clone.

The original Saitama let go of the knife-arm. Perfect. This was Doctor Super Evil Dude’s chance to-

The mecha rocked. What was happening?

Before he could work out what was going on, Doctor Super Evil Dude was propelled into the air along with a blast of fire and several pieces of his mecha.

 

Maitama ran around under the Super Evil Guy, trying to work out where he would land. Probably somewhere around here. Even if he was a supervillain or whatever, he didn’t deserve to die. Super Evil Doctor Man fell from the sky, directly into Maitama’s arms.

“Why couldn’t you just let me die?” wailed Evil Man Dude. “All my plans have failed! All of them!”

“’Cause I’m a pacifist.” Maitama placed Really Evil Doctor Guy on the ground. “Maybe your plans have failed, but you can fix them for next time, now that you know what went wrong.”

“But you’re a hero!” Villain Super Guy shouted. I caused destruction! You should be trying to fight me!”

“Should I?” Maitama shrugged. “You didn’t cause that much destruction, and you wouldn’t be a worthy opponent anyway. Train every day and become a worthy enemy. Then I might think about it.”

Doctor Evil Man sniffled, wiped his nose on his lab coat, then laughed evilly. “I will follow that advice, Cloned Saitama. May we meet again.” He turned around and ran off into the sunset, laughing evilly, his lab coat lifting up to reveal his hotpants with ‘evil’ printed across the butt.

Maitama turned around to see Genos writing down everything in a notebook. “Thank you, Master Maitama. That was very good advice for everyone.”

 

“Attention, City Z.”

Master Saitama switched off the TV. “I’ll go do that. Seeya when I get back.” He ran out the front door.

“Should we eat the sardines now, Master Maitama?” Genos asked. He still had yet to interrogate Master Maitama.

“Sure.”

Genos handed him a tin of sardines and a fork.

“I must ask you a question, Master Maitama.” Genos sat down next to him and opened his own tin.

“Yeah?”

“Did you ever have the urge to kill Master Saitama, as you were created to?”

“Nope.” Master Maitama opened his own sardines.

“Did you ever think about it at all?”

“Nah. I never wanted to kill Saitama,” said Master Maitama through a mouthful of sardines. “I knew all along that I’m weaker than him, anyway. I think Doctor Totally Evil messed up his cloning machine so the clone was the weaker one, not the original.”

Genos nodded. “I think it is admirable that you admit you are weaker. I feel I am going to learn a lot from you too, Master Maitama.” He opened a notebook and wrote down what Master Maitama had just said.

“Well…” Master Maitama put down the empty can. “Actually…”

“You’re leaving, Master Maitama?” Genos put down his sardines too, out of respect.

“This apartment isn’t big enough for all three of us. I’m already such a different person to Saitama, and I’ve only been around for a day or so.” Master Maitama leant back and looked to the sky. “I’m going to leave to a different city. I’ll find my own apartment and start a new life. I don’t want to accidentally give Saitama a bad name by being defeated.”

“I see.” Genos nodded. “Will you tell Master Saitama this?”

“Tell me what?” Master Saitama walked in the front door.

“I’m leaving City Z,” said Master Maitama.

 

“You’re leaving?” Saitama stared at Maitama. “Damn, just when I thought I’d finally met someone as strong as me, you’re leaving already?”

“Yeah. Isn’t it easier for all of us like this?”

Saitama sighed. “Well, sure it is, but isn’t it more fun with the three of us? It’s kinda cool having a clone.”

“I guess so, but…” He shrugged. “Nah. I’d better go.”

“Well, it’s your choice.”

Maitama ate the last of his sardines and stood up. “I guess I’m off.”

“Before you leave, can we at least have a fight? I want to know what it feels like to have a challenge again.” Saitama framed it as a polite request, but he was so, so close to fighting a worthy opponent that he would literally beg if Maitama said no.

“I’m a pacifist, remember?” Maitama stepped out the front door. “Nah. Maybe if we meet again in the future.” He waved goodbye and closed the door.

Well. No begging then. Saitama dropped to the floor and stared at it. “Damn it! I could’ve had a good fight, and he just leaves!”

“I guess we will just have to meet him again, Master Saitama.”

Saitama sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”­­­­­

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Title: Ashes & Dust
Rating: PG
Prompt: Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart. - Haruki Murakami
Fandom/Series: Dragon Ball Z
Word Count: 752
Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from the story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
Summary: Goku is left reeling following the revelation that he is responsible for his grandpa’s death. A maelstrom of grief threatens to overwhelm him as he continues to battle the Great Ape Vegeta.

Ashes & Dust

A roiling mass of ants tumbled over the rocks. It barely broke the water in the lower part of the stream, bobbing briefly before stabilising. The top most layer of ants scurried about, clambering over each other.
“Son Goku!”
Scrambling, Goku got to his feet and dusted off his knees. Through the trees he saw a shadow - Grandpa Gohan and his basket, huffing their way towards him.
“You have wandered far ahead today, Goku, I can hardly keep up. These old bones don’t work as well as they used to! We should head back, it will be dark soon.”
Goku laughed, his grandpa said the same thing every day, but never failed to catch up quickly.
“What were you looking at so intently anyway?” Grandpa Gohan asked.
“Oh!” Goku looked back to the stream, the ants still floating by lazily, “I was watching the ants. They’ve made a raft! How come none of them are drowning?”
The ant raft spun slowly, riding the current. Grandpa Gohan reached Goku’s side and took a steadying breath.
“Well Goku, ants have hairs so small and thin on their bodies that bubbles of air get trapped between them. The ants at the bottom of the raft still have air to breathe, but even if they didn’t, they would do anything to protect their queen. You can see her in the middle of the raft there. All the other ants love her so much, they would give their lives for her.”
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Dirt and dust fly into the air. Goku starts, leaping from rock to rock as the memory fades. He cannot afford to lose focus. The Saiyan warrior Vegeta is too quick and lithe, even in this beastly ape form. The same form that -
No! There is no time to feel renewed waves of grief.
A great roar echoes across the island and the tower of stone under Goku’s feet explodes. He falls to the ground.
Pain splitting across his head.
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A bright, blinding light cleared to the soft blue of the sky. Where was he?
“Goku!”
The world spun. There was a puffing and putting sound to his left. A strange energy washed over him. Someone was coming!
Suddenly, the sky blotted out. The face of an old man came into focus. He looked frightened, panting roughly.
“Careful! You hit your head.”
Goku blinked, “I… my head?” His head hurt. A fall, pain, light. That must be why.
The old man’s breath slowly evened out. His eyebrows dropped, more concerned now, than afraid.
“Your head. Are you okay? Can you sit up?”
A hand touched his shoulder and Goku felt a faint flash of irritation. It was very far away and he couldn’t remember why he should feel it. The old man was only trying to help. He let himself be brought up, swaying slightly as the world righted itself.
The old man - Gohan, his name was Gohan - regarded him closely, worriedly, and Goku remembered.
Earth. A blue orb hurtling ever closer through the void. Fire and heat and a loud rushing noise and - 
Gohan. Grandpa Gohan. The first human he’d met. The first human he was supposed to destroy, to prepare for the might of the Saiyans.
But why?
It all seemed so distant and confused. He was powerful beyond belief, but why should that make him a harbinger of death? The humans were not his enemies. The old - Gohan was proof enough. He cared for Goku, was afraid he’d hurt himself, even in the face of Goku’s murderous rage.
“Goku?”
Blinking, Goku turned and smiled.
“I’m okay Grandpa! My head hurts a bit, but that’s all.”
Gohan stilled, his eyes widening, voice quiet as he repeated, “Grandpa…”
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Tears sting Goku’s eyes and the whisper fades away. He’d always tried to live up to his grandpa’s love, as if some small part of him knew the sin for which he had to atone. And now, with this great beast crushing the life from his lungs, has he done enough? Is there still some penance left to deliver?
He could give his life (again) to protect his home, his friends, Chi-Chi, Gohan. His son. His legacy. Gohan. Growing up to be someone his namesake would be proud of. Even if Goku dies with this mark against his soul. Gohan would prevail.
Darkness begins creeping into Goku’s vision. All sound is gone from the world. The last thing he can hold onto is his pride and his love. For Gohan. Gohan.

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