#anger arc

[ask-byzantinedream]

“In the left corner is Contrail! And in the right is Byzantine Dream! Give it up for our competitors, everyone!”

Oh shit.

She cannot do this.

“Due to muddy conditions, our competitors will be mud wrestling instead of sumo wrestling!”

She thinks she would’ve rather quit racing forever than do this.

Contrail is in front of her, a smirk on her face.

In a swimsuit.

They could’ve worn tracksuits.

They should’ve worn tracksuits.

“You are so unfair!” She hissed under her breath, crossing her arms and trying to keep her eyes firmly on Contrails face.

“Perv.” Her deadpan tone made Bya glare for a second before they both burst into giggles.

“Competitors, get to your corners! We have two minutes left!” The announcer, a perky Uma she couldn’t remember the name of, gave a time call. She nodded, moving back into the right corner.

It was like racing. Just not at all similar and she was gonna get her ass kicked.

“I can do this, I can do this.” She hyped herself up. She bounced on her feet. She had an advantage. She didn’t have huge…um, yea…weighing her down like Contrail did. She would be lighter on her feet. The mud was slippery, so she could slide around and out of Contrails grip.

The other girl was stronger, so she couldn’t let herself get grabbed.

Fans yelled from both sides of the track, most of them not preferring a winner and just wanting a mess.

She’d give them a show all the same.

“And five, four, three, two, one, fight!”

Contrail, unexpectedly, didn’t go for her immediately. Bya dodged a move that didn’t come, stumbling back.

On the track, Contrail stuck out behind first place and moved with power.

Clearly, that wasn’t the same in the ring.

Her entire strategy fell apart.

“Oh shit-“

Contrail grinned ferociously, mud splattering her shins. “Come and get me.”

Bya knew Contrail was goading her.

She also knew Contrail had rejected her without Bya even asking her out first.

So, maybe Bya wanted to give into her goading.

After all, who would stop her?

Maybe she wanted to let loose.

“Betcha won’t-ah!” Contrail fell immediately as Bya tackles her into the mud, arms wrapping around her waist and using her weight against her. The girl yelped as they both got covered.

The crowd went wild, hooting and hold on up signs.

Her tail thrashed, stirring the mud below her as she stared at Contrail. The announcer started counting. Before she got to three, Contrail bucked her off, and she fell back, palms grinding into the ground.

She didn’t think it was friendly anymore. The look in both of their eyes proved it.

“And Contrail goes in for the grapple-Bya counters! They’re locked in a grapple!” The announcer yelled in excitement. Bya’s grip around the other girls shoulders tightened.

Contrail ducked under her arms, and got behind her, forcing her to the ground. They were both breathing heavily against each other.

“And one, two, three, four-“

Weak.

The word flashed through her mind.

All the times she passed out from training, and she thought she was just weak.

All the races she lost, and she thought she was just weak.

She wasn’t weak.

She never was.

She just couldn’t imagine herself winning.

She wouldn’t be weak.

She wouldn’t give him something to talk about again.

Something to criticize.

Before the time hit five, she flipped over, an arm on Contrails collarbone, and a hand on her wrist.

Contrail struggled. The fire in Bya’s eyes didn’t falter.

It only grew hotter.

The time kept running down for Contrail to get up.

Bya smiled.

“I win.”

[askerrorsans-s2]

[ask-byzantinedream]

“I am a massive hypocrite.”

The thought occurs to her after her eighteenth lap in the rain. She’s panting hard, mud splattered up her thighs.

The statement wasn’t wrong, exactly. She had just told her roommate off for overworking herself like this.

Now here she was, legs in pain and definitely catching a cold.

But she wasn’t running like this to get stronger.

She was running to get away.

If she just kept running, maybe she’d forget what Maruzen had said to her.

Maybe she’d forget about the truth of her dad.

If she kept moving, she wouldn’t have to think.

She took another step, and her knees wobbled. She fell to the ground, staining her shorts. She breathed heavily, wiping the raindrops away from her eyes.

It wasn’t working. She couldn’t ignore what she heard. She was a coward for trying anyways.

She stood shakily, hands on her knees for support.

She knew what she should do-go inside, take a hot shower and preventative medicine, then rest for the next couple days. It’s what she would tell Taburu to do.

But she’s not the greatest at practicing what she preaches.

“It’s an eight-kilometer run,” she murmured to herself, tugging the thin shawl she was wearing closer. It didn’t help. It was soaked. She hadn’t bothered to change into her tracksuit when the urge to get away hit. “It can’t be too hard.”

It took fifteen minutes for her to reach her mother’s house. It would’ve taken less normally, but she was already exhausted. She knocked, her fist thudding against the door.

“I told you, I’m-oh.” Her mother opened the door with an annoyed expression that quickly fell off her face. “Bya-oh dear, sweetheart, what happened?”

Her mother motioned for her to step inside. She didn’t move. “We have to talk.” She said.

Her mother looked concerned. “Whatever it is, we can talk inside, alright? You must be freezing.”

Bya didn’t feel cold. She didn’t feel much of anything, but she stepped inside anyways. She dripped water on the floor, and her mother hung her shawl up.

“I’ll get a fire going. Can you-“ Bya cut her mother off. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The older woman blinked. “What?”

“About dad. Why didn’t you tell me the truth?” Her voice held more emotion than she felt.

“I told you about your father before. You should sit down, you’re tired and soaked.” Her mother’s attempt to brush her off stirred something in her.

“I feel fine. But you lied to me-about dad. Told me he left because of work. Told me I wasn’t important enough to him. Told me I wasn’t worth staying for.” She kept speaking before she could get an answer. “I thought I wasn’t good enough for him to stay. For years. And I just find out-not even from you-that the only reason he left was because he had another family.” Her hands clenched into fists. “Do you know how much that hurt? How it felt to have that fact dropped on me during an argument instead of told by you?”

Her mother stepped closer. “I was trying to protect you. I know that being a child of an unmarried couple was bad enough, I didn’t want to make it worse.”

And what fucking good that did. Rain dripped down her face-wait. She’s inside. It can’t be rain.

“You lying to me-for years-hurt more than anything he could ever do. I didn’t even know him. You trying to protect my-my image of him to make me-I don’t know. I don’t know why you did it. I wish I did.” She wiped her face with her hand, shaking from anger. “Did you tell Maruzen to lie to me too? Was it the only time you two got along?”

“That’s enough.” Her mother’s sharp voice cut out. “Maruzensky made her choices.”

“What choices? Choosing to have a kid in a way you didn’t like?” Her tail was thrashing now, narrowly avoiding smacking over a vase. “Both of you lied to me. Both of you slandered the other to me. I’m tired of it! You both are just-awful! You’re liars and gossipers and hypocrites and-and-“ She choked down a sob. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t trust you, or Maruzen, or anyone.”

“I only want what’s best for you.” Her mother started.

“Like you want the best for Maruzen?” Bya turned towards the door. “I just can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. I love you. But I don’t know if you love me.”

And she ran, form blurring in the night.

“Bya!” her mother yelled after her, stumbling to the doorframe.

But she wasn’t an umamusume. She’d never catch up in time.

She just had to hope that her daughter was somewhere safe.

[ask-byzantinedream]

Bya looked down at the scale, and frowned.

Fifty-four kilos.

It really wasn’t a lot. By her friend’s standards.

She was always made fun of for her flat figure. She should be happy she’s filled out.

But…

“You need to cut back on your sugar,” Andrew noted, tapping his clipboard. “It’s affecting your performance.”

Bya looked surprised. “I barely have any sugar. Are you sur-“ Andrew cut her off with a harsh glare, and she swallowed the rest of her sentence.

“Yes, I’m sure. You’ve been getting slower. Focus less on protein and more on cutting out those carbs.” As he started to walk away, he commented, “you don’t work nearly hard enough to deserve it anyways.”

She blinked. She rarely thought of her old trainer nowadays, and the memory was an unwelcome surprise.

She pinched a bit of fat on her thighs. It wasn’t a lot. She looked fine. Better than before, even.

But still.

Maybe she should skip dessert, just in case.

[ask-byzantinedream]

She was getting ready for a scrimmage when a notification popped up on her phone.

“Who is it?” Maruzen asked, nosy as ever.

Originally, her older sister hadn’t even come for her. A junior racer she liked-Chiyo something, was also racing today. The girl was younger, and practically hung onto Maruzens every word.

Bya glanced down at her phone. The message was from her mom. It read “maybe you shouldn’t invite your sister to dinner this week. She always declines, and I don’t want you to get your hopes up again.”

She stared at the phone for a second before flipping it over. “It’s just mom.”

Maruzen leaned over, frowning at the turned phone. “Yea? She nagging you again?”

Bya glared. “She’s not nagging me. She never nags me.” She remembered asking, once, why her mother rarely asked where she was going.

“When your sister was younger, I asked all the time. I was just worried, really. But she got tired of it. I think it’s part of the reason why she left.” Her mother’s voice broke at that part.

She made sure to tell her mom where she was going anyways, after that.

Back in the present, Maruzen shrugged. “Sure she doesn’t. What’s she saying?”

Bya looked down. “She…just wants my help with dinner on Sunday. It’s nothing major.”

Maruzen muttered a snarky remark, something about “that woman can’t do anything”, and Bya’s head snapped towards her.

“Excuse me?” She said, voice low. Maruzen had been super out of character lately. Maruzen used to hold love, or at least respect, for their mother. Something had changed in the past year, she thought.

Maruzen huffed at the reaction. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. It’s not that serious.”

Her phone buzzed again. It wasn’t the chime it made when there was a text, but Maruzen lunged for it, flipping it over.

They both stared at the text in silence before Maruzen began to laugh. And laugh, and laugh.

“Wow. That bitch really doesn’t want me talking to you, huh?”

Bya flared in anger. “Don’t talk about her like that! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Maruzen was still laughing. “That-that lying, home-wrecking, hypocritical whore! I just can’t believe her!”

A slap echoed. It took both of them a minute to realize who slapped who. Maruzen held a hand to her face. Bya stared, part in horror and part in rage.

“I need you to stop insulting my mother before I do worse.” She hissed, in a voice she could barely recognize as her own. Maruzen gaped. Then her expression morphed into a crueler one.

“You wanna know why your dad left, Dreamy?” She started, with fake disinterest. “It’s because he had a real family. Your mom was just a side piece he fucked with, and left when you showed up. Too afraid to face responsibility.” Her voice grew more and more bitter. “And after that, mom cared more about her image than anything else. Two kids, no dad in sight. God forbid if one of her daughters turned out to be a slut too, right?” Tears sprung to the under girls eyes. “You know how I love the younger students. They’re like my kids. I…wanted a real one. I told mom. I was so fucking happy when I saw those red lines.” Maruzens fists clenched. “She wasn’t. Told me I couldn’t. I was unmarried. Told me to get rid of them while I still could.”

Bya had never seen Maruzen cry like she is now.

“She told me she’d drag me to a clinic if she had to. Turns out, she didn’t need to.” Her voice broke. “The stress of it all made me lose them anyways. It hurt so much. I cried for days. Mom told me to be glad.”

An announcement rang out, startling them both. It was an announcement for the scrimmage.

Maruzen wiped her face, forcing a smile on it. “I’ve got to go encourage my dear juniors. I’ll see you around, Dreamy.”

And there she left Bya, staring into the distance.

…she had a lot to talk about at dinner this Sunday.

[ask-byzantinedream]

The Ms. Tracen announcement was…everywhere.

It happened every year. Bya didn’t mind it. The girls all had a friendly competition about who represented their school, and tried to be extra cute. It didn’t hurt that all the hot girls were there. It was fun and lighthearted, and it gave them a period off from classes.

“So, are you going to try and get nominated?” Maruzen asked, voice distorted over the phone.

Bya shrugged, and remembered Maruzen can’t see her. “Nah. It’s not my thing.”

Maruzen gasped audibly. “But you’re so cute! It’s basically a crime for you to not try.”

Bya flipped her math homework to the next page. “I’d rather not. It’d be weird for me to be…judged like that.” She fiddled with her pencil, hesitating before scratching in an answer.

“It’d be fun! Come on, I can give you beauty tips and stuff.”

Her ears pinned down at that. She didn’t know why. “I’m good. Really.”

Maruzen didn’t seem to hear. “I know that you’re self conscious and all, but you’ve got to get out of your shell sometimes.”

Bya frowned. “I’m out of my shell. I have lots of friends.”

She could practically hear Maruzen blocking her out. “I could give you one of my old padded bras to help you plump out a little for it-“

“Maruzensky!” She didn’t usually say her sisters full name. “Enough. I’m not doing it.”

Maruzensky let out a long sigh. “Come onnn. Don’t you wanna be like big sister Maruzen?”

Her tail lashed against her chair, silently. “We just talked about me being my own person. Did you seriously forget already?”

“Chillax, I’m just teasing! It’s not that serious.” Her sisters relaxed voice only pissed her off more.

It was like Maruzen was on a mission to make her mad, lately.

“I have to finish my homework. I’ll see you later.”

She put the phone down, clicking it off.

Maybe she’d skip out on the event this year.

[ask-byzantinedream]

“Is it okay if I do something…a little bad?”

Taburu, her roommate, blinked. “What.”

“Like-if I do something a tiny bit bad, would you rat me out?” Bya’s voice was nervous.

“What bad thing, though? It depends.” Taburu looked Bya up and down. She bit her lip.

“If I, for example…egg my old trainers house in the night…would you rat me out?”

“…it’s six in the morning. I’m not dealing with this.” Taburu rolled over and went back to sleep.

Well. Shit.

She was staring at herself in the mirror.

Again.

Just because she knew where her body image issues came from, it didn’t stop her from having them.

She slapped her cheeks. “Come on, get it together! You know he sucks, why are you still taking his advice?”

A knock sounded on the door. “Did you drown in there or what?”

“I’m fine,” she called back, annoyed. She’d been in there for five minutes, max, and Maruzen was nagging her. Like always.

It was a rude thought, but she couldn’t help it.

“Dinners ready, and it’s gonna be bitchin’.”

“…Maruzen, I am begging you to learn modern slang.”

Maruzen didn’t hear her plea, however, as she had already left to the kitchen.

She sighed, turning away from the mirror and stepping out.

Sitting down at the table, she poked at her food with a fork.

“Hey, Maruzen?”

Her sister lifted her head up from the meal. “Mhm?”

“You ever…know something is wrong, but you still do it anyways?”

Maruzen shrugged. “I mean, like, I know martinis aren’t good for you, but I still have them.”

She shook her head. “Not like that. It’s like…even though I know what my old trainer said to me was bad…I still follow what he said sometimes. Like he was right about me…being lazy or fat or whatever.”

Maruzen gasped. “What?! That’s just bogus. You aren’t even fat,” and her brain took note how Maruzen didn’t say it was ok if she was fat, just that she wasn’t, “and your old trainer is stupid. You shouldn’t be thinking about what he said anymore.”

She just stared blankly. And nodded. “Yea. You’re right.” Bya was stupid, after all. Couldn’t realize when someone wasn’t looking out for her.

Her phone started ringing. “It’s mom,” she said, and moved to pick it up.

“Why’re you answering? We’re eating.” Maruzen commented, fork in her hand. Bya stared, dumbfounded.

“It’s mom. I can’t just let her go to voicemail.”

“Sure you can.” Maruzen shrugged. “It’s probably nothing important. Just leave it. I did all the time, and nothing bad ever happened.”

Nothing bad ever happened.

Like when she sat by the phone for hours, hoping for Maruzen to answer back when she was young.

Like when she’d replay her voicemail over and over just to hear her voice.

Like when mom broke her foot, and a nine year old Byzantine had to take care of her alone.

“Sure. Nothing bad.”

[ask-byzantinedream]

A newspaper came out about her races in France this week.

The paper itself wasn’t the problem. It was nice enough about her.

It’s just…what they called her.

小さなスーパーカー

Little Supercar.

Innocent nickname.

Considering she was the younger sister of Maruzensky, the supercar.

Still getting compared to Maruzensky.

The same name Andrew had called her-

Her pencil snapped.

She had been working on homework while the newspaper sat next to her on the kitchen table. She sighed, brushing lead off her notebook.

Maruzen wandered in at the exact moment she grabbed a new pencil.

“Woah, look at you, another newspaper! You’re getting, little supercar.” The last part of her sentence had a teasing inflection.

Her new pencil snapped.

Maruzen softened. “Woah girl, you need a chill pill or what? Something up with your homework?”

Bya paused, wincing at the shards of lead now spread across the table.

“It’s…yeah, sorry. I just-“ she thought about lying for about five seconds. Her mouth made the decision for her.

“I don’t really like that nickname. It’s-never mind. It’s fine.”

Maruzen frowned. “Girl, you can’t just leave me hanging! You can talk to me, you know.”

The words hung in the air. It was-the reasons behind why she didn’t like it were stupid, really. But if Maruzen was offering-

“It’s just…it compares me to you. A lot. And you’re great!” She stammered out excuses. “But I just-“

“Wanna be your own person, huh?” Maruzen leaned forward, tapping Bya’s forehead. “I get it. Be known for your own wicked cool skills and not someone else’s.”

Bya stuck her tongue out at Maruzens poking. “Yea. I guess that’s right. There is, um, something else, though…”

Maruzen sat back, waiting patiently for Bya to go on.

“My old trainer called me that all the time. It was just so-infantilizing. Like I could be you, but I wasn’t there yet. I just-I-“ she bit her tongue at the last part. The words that almost came out of her mouth felt ugly. She didn’t want to say them.

“Oh, that-that balding excuse of a trainer! That sorry sack of wasted cells! That walking, talking example of Darwinism failing! I’m gonna kick his ass to the max! I’m gonna-“

Bya laid a hand on Maruzens arm. “Guess you need to take a chill pill, huh?” She teased.

The older woman sucked in a breath of air after her rant. “Yea. Okay. I just-he ticks me off!”

Bya nodded. “I know. Can you help me with homework?”