Tags: Rivals to Lovers, Masturbation, Interruptions, Getting Together, Confessions, Denial of Feelings, Tsunderes
“Ugh, Vodka, she is so…” Daiwa Scarlet grumbled to herself.
She was two fingers in and two knuckles deep. It was so hard to get a bit of peace and quiet around here, to unwind and take care of her other needs. Everyone was so noisy and fast paced, it was go, go, go, and no stops. It was enough to exhaust anyone which was why Daiwa Scarlet was taking a “me day” from training.
It started as normal. She did her homework and she did some hand care. She watched a couple of videos online and listened to music. Then it began to get dark and it made her realise something. She had probably an hour before dinner would be available in the dining hall and Vodka hadn’t come back from training yet.
That could only mean one thing: she was doing some extra training.
What a rival full of vigour she was. It made Daiwa Scarlet itch, somehow. It made her feel like she was losing some battle that only she knew about. Vodka likely wouldn’t care less that Daiwa Scarlet was back in their shared room, in bed and reading or whatever.
But it still upset Daiwa Scarlet nonetheless. The thought of Vodka all sweaty and breathless. It moved her hands downwards. She couldn’t explain it beyond the excuse that she was pent up. She was a young woman of a certain age, in her third year and on the cusp of adulthood, full of hormones.
That certainly made the fact that Vodka was doing extra training extra alluring to Daiwa Scarlet. She couldn’t help herself. She dimmed the lights and lit candles in lieu. She was a princess, she would be the last to admit though as she wouldn’t be caught dead discussing sexual things with anyone but the spectre of a strawman haunted her nonetheless. It asked, who got so worked up over masturbation, treating it like a date of dates except for the virgin romantics?
Hmph. Whatever worked for her.
Daiwa Scarlet then spent the next half an hour or so enjoying her alone time. She was slow, she messed around with different videos or audios to accompany the mood lighting that she had prepared for herself. She needed something to distract herself because otherwise her thoughts kept circling back to a singular face.
That of her rival’s…
Vodka was okay looking. Daiwa Scarlet would be lying blatantly if she tried to spin Vodka as anything but. She had a clear complexion of olive, brown eyes which were keen and sparkling, and shiny, tousled hair. The leather jacket helped. Everyone looked good in one of those but it looked especially good on Vodka and her tomboyish shoulders, giving them more that hard edge to complement the image that she was going for.
But surely it was all image, all bluster. She couldn’t even stick to what she liked. Always yammering on about wanting to be cool and stuff but she liked cute things all the same as Daiwa Scarlet. Heh. The fact she had an adorable plush toy under her pillow would make the tabloids howl in terror if they learned.
She was polite, too. She vied to be a gentleman. Sure, she was hot-headed and foolish from time to time but she had a certain charm of chivalry to her. She helped little old ladies cross the road and funnily enough, it was part of what got on Daiwa Scarlet’s nerves about her. She didn’t need doors opened for her nor chairs pulled up, that was going too far and was annoying. Vodka learned the error of her ways on that one early in their first year.
Still, she had good qualities about her. She wasn’t just a nuisance. Though, Daiwa Scarlet did wish that Vodka would plague her thoughts less. There were plenty of pretty people online and in magazines, in their school or from other academies. Surely there was someone other than Vodka to fantasise about but Daiwa Scarlet fumbled.
Everyone else paled compared to the light that Vodka cast with her suave smirk or brassy tones. Daiwa Scarlet knew exactly what that was called. The way it made her heart skip a beat or gave her butterflies in her stomach, or yes, caused her to insert finger after finger inside of herself in Vodka’s name.
Rivalry.
Or maybe she was just stubborn.
Daiwa Scarlet sucked in a breath. She was close. She knew she was close. She had been at it so long that it was starting to tick from exciting teenage romp to a chore. Her brow creased in thought, in fantasy of hands meeting hands, of tails which got in the way in bed.
“Ugh.” Daiwa grunted. She chewed her lip. Her hips gave a thrust and she was so, so wet. “Please. I’m just. I need- I need you, Vodka!”
Daiwa Scarlet hated just how easy it was for her rival’s name to slip past her gritted teeth. Her heart raced in her chest and the feeling that ensued was nothing less than immaculate as everything to do with Vodka welled up in her. It was like she was love-drunk. She closed her eyes but that face didn’t leave her vision. She saw the shape of Vodka’s face and her colouration in perfect clarity within her imagination and when she opened her eyes.
She was there.
“Whoa.” Vodka marvelled at the scene she had walked in on. Her voice was groggy with surprise. Her eyes were wide.
Daiwa Scarlet froze in place. She was completely and utterly compromised. Scandalised, even. Her legs crossed underneath her in her bed. She was on top, skirt hitched up and everything was on display.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise-” Vodka rambled, panicked.
She looked away. But her face was bright red.
To say nothing of how red Daiwa Scarlet’s face was. She managed to find some semblance of feeling in her extremities and managed to hide herself. She neatened up. Straightened up her skirt, clamped her legs together, and hid.
“You say nothing.” Daiwa Scarlet snapped. “You heard nothing.”
“Heh.” Vodka snickered.
“You heard nothing!” Daiwa Scarlet reiterated but much louder this time.
Vodka, cheekily, poked at her face. She stole a glance out the corner of her eyes.
“So even the mighty princess herself, Daiwa Scarlet, can’t resist my wiles.” Vodka bragged.
“Shut. Up.” Daiwa Scarlet snipped.
Vodka came inside their room. She was swanky and loose with how she moved, as though to prove that despite the unusual situation that she and Daiwa Scarlet had found themselves in, she was still cool and breezy. Totally unaffected by what she definitely saw and most definitely heard.
She perched herself against the back of the chair at her desk. Daiwa Scarlet swung her legs over the bed. She scrunched up, her head between her shoulders and her chin in her school uniform’s collar and fumed silently.
“Should we, like, try to address the elephant in the room?” Vodka asked.
“Go to Hell.” Daiwa Scarlet retorted quickly.
“‘Cause, like, if your ever feeling that pent up that your flicking the bean-”
“Don’t talk about my masturbation habits so uncouthly!”
“Then I want in.” Vodka finished her sentence despite Daiwa Scarlet’s hypocritically uncouth interruption and flashed her a sentence.
One, two, three: Daiwa Scarlet counted down the disbelief she felt. She met Vodka’s gaze. Her brown eyes were sultry and genuine, she chewed her bottom lip.
“I’d love to give you a hand next time.” Vodka said. “Or, well, maybe just two fingers.” She winked.
Daiwa Scarlet gasped, scandalised that Vodka would use such grotesque flirtations against her. Though, they both knew that she was putting on airs, puffing out her chest to play the role of rivals that they had known so long. The back and forth of vitriol and clearly, unresolved sexual tension.
Vodka’s expression changed. Her smile, once suave, shortened in on itself. She turned almost sheepish in demeanour, shy in her lips.
Her voice was quiet as she admitted something herself, “I’ve done it, too. I’ve touched myself. Thinking of you but I never thought it meant anything. You're the last person I see in a day, the first person I see in a morning: I didn’t think it could have a deeper meaning but…”
“Its a bit obsessive, don’t you think?” Daiwa Scarlet pondered. “But I wouldn’t dare settle for anyone who wasn’t as committed as I was. That’s what I like about you Vodka.”
“God, you exhaust me.” Vodka rolled her eyes.
“Likewise.” Daiwa Scarlet pouted.
“There’s still, what, twenty minutes before dinner, by the way.” Vodka added.
And apparently, that’s all either of them needed. Even though neither of them were speedy sprinters, they could certainly be quick.
Later, in the dining hall, their friends couldn’t help but notice a different mood between them. Though no one was sure as to what had gotten into them. The tension, once choppy and fiery, had become something almost… lovey-dovey. How strange.
But their rivalry had yet to compromise despite this new facet of their friendship now on full view. Even when chatting, and laughing and smiling, they were still finding ways to one up each other though now it involved feeding each other and some rather rough around the edges pet names.
108 wc, Monster High (Live Action Movies), Cleo de Nile/Clawdeen Wolf, Femslash, Poetry, T-rating, POV Cleo de Nile, Minor Deuce Gorgon/Clawdeen Wolf, for femslashfete challenge #052: jealous
Summary: Poetry about Cleo's true feelings for Clawdeen. It's about Deuce, but it isn't because of Deuce. Cleo breaks Deuce's curse on Clawdeen and replaces it with her own.
Growing up, Sayaka was always the odd one out and she wasn’t too sure why or what she could do about it. She was painfully shy. Awkward. She wore glasses. She wasn’t good at dueling despite enjoying it and had all the graceful coordination of a wet paper bag. She didn’t get it and she didn’t think that the other children who othered her got it but for whatever reason, Sayaka was on the outside.
She was always last picked.
She was always ignored when she tried to use her voice.
There was nothing she could do to leave an impression, good or bad, on other children when she was in elementary school. And so, Sayaka developed a shy and even isolated personality. Some of it the fault of others and some of it her own as she convinced herself that at every turn, she would be tolerated at best and forgotten at worst.
Though maybe things would look up when she changed schools. She was enrolled one of Heartland’s best after elementary school but first. She had to get there.
With a few weeks to go on the school calendar, regardless of if Sayaka stood out or blended in, there was one incident in particular that stuck to her and soured whatever she possibly could have salvaged of her self-esteem in middle school. It was close to graduation and there was a lot of buzz around her class and even the year: excitement to go to big school, actual school. Fanned by on-set puberty and encouraged by expanding freedoms and daunted by new responsibilities: everyone was a little on edge for good and for bad.
Sayaka was somewhere in the middle with it all. She was excited. She was scared. Then, just as she was looking for some magical sign that it would all get better, she found it – and she wished she hadn’t, in hindsight.
It was so cliche but it had been more than enough to make Sayaka’s heart pound and her mind believe. She found a love letter in her shoe cubby. She held it preciously as she read it over and over again.
The actual confession, it promised, would happen after school if she waited by the tree with the love-heart bough. Enticed by such rosy promises, Sayaka vibrated with excited and she clutched on desperately to the letter. She followed through with its instructions and she watched as her schoolmates walked on through whilst she stayed behind.
She watched the crowds disperse. The noise and the laughter, the games played and more. She smiled, though, any minute now. She watched the teachers supervise and listened to buses rattle on through the mainstreet, she heard the chime of a bike’s bell and more. Still nothing.
She watched the sunset dye a deeper orange and just as she decided to give up, someone turned up. To make fun of her. Of course. Why else? No one else would actually notice her…
The girl who didn’t fit in.
Sayaka felt like a different person after this incident. She felt small and unimportant. Ruined. Ridiculed. The punchline of a mean joke. The photos from when she graduated all had a miasma about them. She hated them, she wasn’t smiling in any of them as she faced the problem of a new gauntlet.
They said middle school was brutal.
She felt a pit in her stomach when she arrived at her new middle school for the very first time. She was around all these new people, no one knew her and she knew no one but even so.
There was a light in the dark: Ruri.
Sayaka fell head over heels all but immediately.
Kurosaki Ruri was the coolest girl she had ever seen. Long, luscious hair of purple, bright eyes of maroon, she always had a smile and an approachable air around her. She was friendly, she treated all she met equally with kindness and fairness.
She was the kind of girl that wouldn’t look twice at someone as invisible and frumpy as Sayaka and yet.
“Good luck,” Ruri told her as they shook hands, “let the best Duelist win.”
“R-Right.”
Like many Duel Schools, Heartland Academy put their students through the ring of fire from the get go. There was no first day ease in, reading the syllabus and ice breakers games, nope. It was go, go, go, with action packed days which brimmed with duels.
Then, once the cream of the crop had been sorted, then the actual schoolwork like literature and arithmetic could ensue.
Sayaka wasn’t too sure how the brackets worked. Maybe they were random, maybe they were seeded. All she knew is that on her first day, in her first match, she was to go up against Ruri.
From across the school’s gymnasium, Ruri seemed like an insurmountable challenge. She put up more than a good fight. She was the strongest of the strong, she cheered and she yelled and she played the best game that she possibly could have with her Lyrilusc monsters.
But Sayaka did her best.
She wanted to earn Ruri’s good graces since she was so firmly of the belief that girls like her and girls like Ruri didn’t get along but she wanted to fit in. She wanted to have someone like her and there was no skill more impressive than the ability to win. With this in mind as her resolve, Sayaka fought alongside her precious Little Fairy with ferocity she didn’t even know she had.
And it was worth it.
The impossible happened. Even Sayaka didn’t believe it despite all the evidence around her. It had come down to the wire, it could have gone anyway, it was probably just a fluke but all around it, Sayaka was confronted by the outcome of the duel. The way the audience yelled and cheered, how Ruri smiled and congratulated her. The way the points numbers tinkled and drained away to zero not for her but for Ruri.
She had won the duel.
“That was so much fun,” Ruri cheered even though she had lost, “congrats on winning.”
She bounced around and smiled. Sayaka fidgeted and she hoped that she wasn’t getting the wrong idea but…
This could be the start of something big.
After the match, it was time for lunch and Sayaka didn’t want to clingy per se but she did give chase. Ruri left on a beeline, enveloped by her friends and a guy who kind of looked like. Sayaka followed along and when Ruri noticed, she turned around and smiled big.
“Do you want to join us?” she asked.
“Y-Yes, I’d love to.” Sayaka replied.
One thing led to another and they all ate together on the lawn outside. It was fun. The atmosphere was happy and bubbly. It almost felt like a dream for poor Sayaka.
She didn’t want it to end but the school bell tolled regardless of if she wanted it to or not.
So Sayaka struck up her nerve. Whilst the others tried to move on, she asked for Ruri’s attention. She turned around, her skirt swished and she smiled.
“What’s up?” Ruri asked.
“I want to give you something.” Sayaka replied.
She wanted to cement this first meeting with Ruri as being something more. Something that was important. She still wasn’t convinced that her win against Ruri wasn’t some form of beginner’s luck, so she decided to give up what had won her the duel: her Little Fairy.
As she tried to convey her emotions that pent up, overeager and self flagellating, Shun – Ruri’s brother – had noticed her lagging behind. He scowled as he approached. He inserted himself into their little moment and smacked Sayaka’s hand away.
The card fluttered downwards and Ruri all but turned on that dime.
She stomped towards Shun, her put face in his.
“Oh my gosh, what is your problem, big brother?!” Ruri scolded Shun.
Sayaka’s heart raced and dang. If she didn’t already have a crush on Ruri from meeting her across the duel field, it definitely would have solidified here as she saw yet another side of her, all bold and brash. Her hair fluttered in the wind as she stood up to her bully of a big brother.
Shun, embarrassed that he had been put into place by his little sister, skulked off. She’d won that fight pretty quickly.
Then, she turned on her heel at him and she smiled the biggest smile at Sayaka, “I would love your copy of Little Fairy as a keepsake, Sayaka.” she said.
She stepped closer and Sayaka feebly handed over the card. Their fingers brushed as she let Ruri accept the token.
“Here’s to a beautiful friendship.” she said. She gave Sayaka a wink and framed it with the card art as she stuck it up near her face in a peace sign.
And it turned into a lot more than just that. On both sides even.
They were the fastest of friends. Sayaka had never been swept off her feet like this before. Her heart raced around Ruri no matter what they did: if they were talking about the weather, sharing answers to the math homework, or opening fresh packs of cards. It didn’t matter so long as they were doing it together.
This was Sayaka’s first time having a best friend – and even a friend group. Through Ruri, Sayaka got quite acquainted with her other friends and brother too. They almost became like one big happy family. They squabbled, they made up afterwards, and then shot the shit.
It was pretty much the middle school experience that Sayaka had hoped for after being bullied and ignored in elementary school. It was normal and mundane and the best days of her life as she finally had colour and companionship in her day today.
Naturally, it couldn’t last.
In more ways than one.
It was just the end of another school day. She thought very little of it as she went to go and collect her things from the cubby at the end of the day. She wanted to swap over her shoes, made sure she had her homework and then she saw it.
A letter.
Albeit, a very cute one. It was pink-coloured with a wing-shaped sticker on the front. It was addressed to her and there was some very familiar writing on it but even so.
It gave Sayaka the worst feeling of deja-vu that she had ever had. She felt physically nauseous as this scene from elementary school played out all over again to almost the last detail.
Sayaka opened up the letter. Her heart thudded in her chest whilst her blood boiled. Once again, she had been asked to meet a certain someone at a certain place: in the shade of a tree, by the school gates. More to come in person.
Already, Sayaka knew how this would end: in tears and in flames. She fought the urge to crumple up this letter, tear it up and throw it away, move town and change her name. She wanted to die on the spot and she wanted something better for herself than being a coward.
Sayaka steeled her nerves. It was a letter from Ruri, and this was undoubtedly her handwriting, and she trusted her friend so, she did as she was told. She waited at a tree by the schoolgates for her friend and unlike this time.
Ruri met her there.
She looked the perfect picture of a comic strip out of a romance manga. She stood in the shade of the tree and she bounced up and down on the spot as soon as she saw Sayaka. She was sweet and excited.
Yet it all filled Sayaka with dread as she slowly took steps closer and closer to Ruri.
“I’m glad you could make it.” Ruri beamed. “I have something to tell you.”
That was exactly what Sayaka was afraid of. She remained quiet and let Ruri do the talking. Though, she wasn’t exactly listening with the blood that droned in her ears as anxiety did all the interpretation that her rational brain should have.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while.” Ruri began. “But we’re really good friends, right?”
“Right…”
“So I wanted to spend more time with you. In a special way.” Ruri said.
She was so bright. Brighter than the sun. Sayaka couldn’t look at her without feeling like she was about to melt on the spot.
“You mean a lot to me. I miss you when your not around,” Ruri rambled, “your so smart and humble, you’re sweet as anything and… well…”
“Well?” Sayaka prompted her.
She looked up slightly to meet Ruri. She brimmed with excitement. Sayaka’s glasses flashed and she steeled her nerves. Ruri took a breath and she put her hands on her hips.
“Sayaka,” Ruri announced, “I like you, will you go out with me?”
“H-Huh?”
It was like a gun went off.
Instead of a love confession, all Sayaka heard was a declaration of war. Irritation and irrationality bubbled in her veins as she processed Ruri’s words, stripped of all intonation and sincerity. Sayaka only heard them in a vacuum, in the abyss of bullying that she had climbed her way out of.
Sayaka’s expression flickered and she felt a rare burst of anger. It was almost fizzy within her chest, misplaced and overcompensating as her eyes watered.
“Ruri.” she said, very seriously. “If this is a joke, it's not a very funny one.”
Ruri blinked, she was disconcerted slightly and maybe even offended. She stepped back, her hand curled in closer to her and she placed it atop her breast. Her brows furrowed.
“Why do you think my confession is a joke?” she asked.
Sayaka shivered.
There was a harsher edge to Ruri’s voice than she likely intended: she had struck a sore point, an open wound, in Sayaka’s psyche that she had no knowledge of prior but still. It hurt. It hurt them both.
“I… I don’t know…”
Because here’s the thing.
Ruri wasn’t like those girls who were mean nor was she like the boys who played along with such cruel pranks. Ruri wasn’t exactly a jocular person, she wasn’t even an overly jolly person for that matter. Sure, she was happy and cheerful but she wasn’t a prankster, she was witty but her humour wasn’t mischievous in origin, or worse: malicious. She was kind-hearted, with a pure soul and a blithe smile, she saw the good in everyone. That’s exactly why Sayaka liked her – and liked her back, in that way.
So of course she meant every word. This wasn’t a mean joke, it was a genuine confession. As that realisation settled in, Sayaka smiled from behind her glasses and the tears that threatened to shed.
Ruri’s expression lightened up, she held her hand and she tried again with a courageous smile, “So, let’s try this again,” she said, “will you go out with me, Sayaka?”
“I’d… I’d love to, Ruri.”
Ruri’s smile started small then widened. Bit by bit. She beamed, she was over the moon and she lunged at Sayaka for a hug. She smothered her to bits and pieces, twirling her on the spot and smushed her face against her chest but gingerly, Sayaka hugged her back.
She felt the last rays of the sun a little warmer than before. She could hear Ruri’s heartbeat. She smiled to herself. This was real and it was the best thing that could have happened to her rather than a mean joke.
With it settled – Kurosaki Ruri and Sasayama Sayaka – as official girlfriends, they picked out a spot on the nearest Saturday to have a date. The next day, at the allotted time, they wound up at a cafe which got only the sunniest of windowsills and the sweetest of desserts.
They settled in a booth and everything was yellow, or at least that’s how Sayaka felt. It was exciting, her eyes were refreshed as it felt so good to spend this precious time with Ruri. They ordered drinks and there were cakes and sandwiches on their way too. They talked about everything and anything.
Was there a tangible difference between best friends and girlfriends? At first, Sayaka couldn’t tell but then when her melon soda arrived with two straws, it suddenly struck her just how much of a world of difference there was between now and then.
They both leaned in to share this frothy melon soda topped with vanilla ice-cream and a maraschino cherry, Sayaka realised something. It was a strange epiphany, out of nowhere, as she smiled and she laughed with Ruri, she looked deep into her eyes and her heart felt full. She really liked Ruri and Ruri really liked her.
Huh, Sayaka mused. It turns out that girls like Ruri truly did like girls like Sayaka.
Tags: Age Difference, Mentor/Protege, Love Confessions
Happy Meek placed her hand against the glass and it fogged at her touch. The other side was battered with raindrops. She watched them carefully and how they distorted the vastness of the training grounds to become small and miserable.
“Is the URA Finale really going to be washed out?” she asked.
Aoi stood by her side and sighed. She placed her hand on Happy Meek's shoulder, “I don't know, sweetheart.”
Happy Meek lowered her head. Her lips curved down into a frown and Aoi seized up. She didn't want her trainee to be disappointed but look at the weather.
The storm didn't seem like it was going to ease up any time soon. The rain was nothing less than miserable. Constant. Endless. It transformed the grassy tracks below into swamps.
“Don't give up. You know what they say: expect the worst but hope for the best.” Aoi encouraged her.
Though Happy Meek didn't seem to be buying it.
“We still have two more races before the URA Finale. Let's aim to clear those first.” Aoi added.
“Ah, true…”
Happy Meek was enrolled to race both the Tenno Sho and Arima Kinen. She had to get those out of the way first and wasn't really enthused by the challenges that they would bring. Her career so far as an athlete Uma Musume had been middling to say the least. Plenty of silvers and bronzes but no golds.
She was always in the shadow of her rival who was trained by Aoi's close friend and colleague.
All Happy Meek wanted was to race lots and win lots. So far, she had done plenty of the former and very little of the latter. She was always just out of shot, out of frame by the time she passed the finishing line. The disappointment after disappointment had begun to take its toll.
Both she and Aoi knew what was on the horizon if this unlucky losing streak kept up: she would be forced to retire. She would have to give up on her dream of being an idol athlete. The thought hurt very much, more so than the aches in her heart and strain in her body after just falling short of victory once again.
With these thoughts on her mind unspoken, Happy Meek’s expression was, well, unhappy. Her face stormy all the same as the outside as she worried that this was yet another setback, or worse a sign to give up. If the URA Finale was cancelled due to the rain, as was the rest of the bright and sunny future Happy Meek had naively envisioned when she first entered Tracen Academy three years ago.
Concerned for Happy Meek’s obvious spiral of misery, Aoi flashed her a smile, “C'mon, cheer up. There's still plenty we can do today despite the news.” Aoi reminded her.
Happy Meek nodded, “True.” she mumbled.
Aoi's expression was determined. She retracted her hand and pulled it into a fist in front of her breast. She puffed out her chest and readied her thoughts, ready to elucidate wisdom she had learned from either the Trainer’s Handbook or even her parents before her. She took a breath and just as she was about to give Happy Meek the best pep talk of her life…
Bang, crash! Thunder shook the building.
“Ah!” Happy Meek exclaimed.
She pulled away, scared. She hunkered down at her shoulders and grabbed her ears. Her tail thrashed as she winced.
“Too loud!” Happy Meek complained.
Aoi fussed over her. “Oh, it’s okay, it’s okay.”
She cradled Happy Meek’s face, had her look up at her panicked albeit smiling. She caressed Happy Meek’s cheeks, her thumb did a backstroke over them as she hushed Happy Meek. She calmed slightly, held by her beloved mentor and trainer. She exhaled and forced a feeble smile.
“Your good, your good… You just weren’t expecting such a big noise.” Aoi consoled her.
Happy Meek shook her head.
No, she was not. Now, she was and when more thunder boomed, she felt more prepared this time. Lightning illuminated the sky outside in blinding white through the rain. She eased herself off her hackles and Aoi slowly let her go. Her hands moved downwards. She took Happy Meek’s and held them firmly but lovingly. Happy Meek gazed into Aoi’s eyes and her heart skipped a beat.
Aoi’s eyes sparkled and she found her words beyond consolation. She smiled and she had only the most pure and genuine of intentions as she imparted wisdom and pep unto Happy Meek.
“I believe in you: in us. We have thunder in our hearts, we’ll take the things we’re scared of and be bigger than them.” Aoi replied. She squeaked. She panicked again and grabbed her hair, she blushed. “Ah! I think I quoted an old pop song. And totally forgot what I wanted to say.
Happy Meek stared at her with big, wet eyes. They were wide and in awe. She smiled.
“Let’s do our best, Kiryuin-san.” Happy Meek replied.
She had a quiet certainty inside of her. Whatever Aoi had wanted to say before the thunder had caused a frighten, it likely paled to whatever she ended up saying. It was likely more hers, freed from the motte and bailey of what she had been taught and what she had been raised. She needed to open up a little more, embrace her individuality and flexibility.
Kind of like that friend of hers… Happy Meek suspected that was why their colleague and peer were so successful. Though she dared not say it aloud as Kiryuin Aoi had her own charm and drum to march to the beat too. She was a good trainer. Happy Meek wanted to do right by her.
Inspired by this incident, Happy Meek did her best. The following days provided soft ground to train on. Good for stamina and guts training so that was where they pivoted. Happy Meek needed some more of both of those stats if she wanted to place on a podium in her next two races.
The experience of training served her well. It gave her the boost she needed in these intense final races. But it wasn’t enough. It turned out the same as the rest of the dozens of races that she had run during the past three years. She came close but not close enough.
Kyoto was beautiful in the spring. The turf was vibrant and firm. The brilliant blue skies were dazzling, broken up only by the sun’s rays and the city’s skyline which blended the traditional with the new. Even from the racing green, Happy Meek could make out the Kyoto radio tower amongst the buildings and she could just imagine the crackle of news, of the winners and losers who would be reported via. She looked around as she took her place at the starting gate. The racecourse was large, it roared with countless fans and vendors who hocked their goods, from salty snacks with adorable merchandise.
Happy Meek was up against all kinds of competitors. Girls who wore military jackets and a determined expression on their face. Girls with long legs and powerful glides. She was just herself and herself wasn’t good enough to get more than third place.
But at least bronze came with the good news that the weather had improved back home. The URA Finale would go ahead but first, the Arima Kinen and that meant more training.
More hoping for the best.
They took a bus through the town, passed by the Mogami River and plenty of agricultural fields. Nakayama had a homey feel to it, Happy Meek thought and yet, it was host to the most prestigious race of the classic year. The population probably tripled to accommodate the tourism that accompanied the race. The girls, the trainers, the family members, the fans.
Happy Meek took her position at the gate. She looked through the faces of the people in the grandstand. She didn’t think she could count that high and yet, it was only Aoi whom she truly searched for. She shuddered. She glanced amongst the other girls.
Let whatever happens… Happen.
It was the longest, hard race of the year and Happy Meek did her best to go keep up. At least she could say at the end of it, she put up her dukes and had fought with the best of them in her generation. She placed somewhere in the middle of the pack.
The turf just kept going and going. The sun was blazingly hot over the open grounds of the race course. The sound of her rivals overwhelmed her: the sound of their footwork, how they breathed and even muttered under their breath. Happy Meek was quiet. Her heart quaked. She was exhausted by the end of it. It was her worst placement of her career so far and she hated it. She cried to Aoi afterwards.
They were in the tunnel together afterwards. Happy Meek had placed sixth.
“I’m sorry.” Aoi murmured.
She wiped Happy Meek’s tears away and Happy Meek felt like the scum at the bottom of a pond. She didn’t have what it took to be on top, to the one who shone. It was infuriating. She worked hard, she had the drive, she wanted to make Aoi proud but something bigger than her was stopping her.
“Don’t worry, the director said that the URA Finale is open to anyone who ran the Arima Kinen…” Aoi tried to console her.
But it did little to quell Happy Meek’s spiral of self deprecation. In the shadow of the limelight, of the glittering concert and the pristine podium, the shutter of flash photography and the gleam of a shiny ribbon. She had none of that. Only cleats worn dull.
She sobbed onto Aoi’s shoulder and Aoi rubbed her back.
“Let it all out…” she whispered.
It was embarrassing. It was childish. Happy Meek both loved and loathed every second of it. Kiryuin Aoi was, by far, her most important person: the voice who cheered her on the loudest, the one who comforted her the quietest. They were in it together as two beginners and so far beginner’s luck had evaded them, leaving only a novice’s heartbreak.
All Happy Meek wanted was a change of fortune.
There was little time to prepare, however. Time marched on and the URA Finale came before either she nor Aoi could be truly ready. The sun was shining. The birds were singing.
First came the qualifiers and Happy Meek ran like the wind.
She had nothing left to lose and everything to gain. She couldn’t believe it. They had to check the footage but she did it. She had eeked out her first win of her career but it was hardly a big one. It was an uphill battle, across the flat verdant turf of Kyoto.
But it gave her a jolt of hope. It was a totally different feel and taste to her salty tears of defeat but it wasn’t quite enough to make her believe that things had improved. She threw herself into random training. There wasn’t enough time between the off days to give her or Aoi time to truly focus. She just hashed out what she could in wit, maybe speed if she had the energy in reserve.
Second came the semi finals and it was everything that Happy Meek could have dreamed of.
She was lined up amongst plenty of familiar faces and fierce competitors. She shook out her nerves, kept her eyes ahead. She ran like she always did but with a touch more grit. With a touch more passion. She didn’t want it to be all for naught and with a metre between her and the girl behind her…
She did it. She crossed the finish line where she came in an unbeleivable first again and she couldn’t believe it. It had to be sheer luck. Karma paying its debts and she would be in a world of hurt the day after tomorrow. It would be a vile weakness to let this sudden success get to her head. She locked in and Aoi held her hand through the last of the training they could afford.
Third came the actual finals, the end of the year and the end of her career if she wasn’t careful. Happy Meek stared down the medium race course. She watched blades of grass quiver in anticipation as microphones boomed and speakers played the numbers game of favourites and fans. She was given lip service down at number four.
Her hands trembled. Her knees knocked. She flashed a smile to her great rival and that was that. On your marks, get set, go. Everyone raced at full power. Full throttle. It may as well have been life or death and Happy Meek was engulfed by the ferocity.
The ground had just a tiny bit of give underneath. It reminded Happy Meek of how the turf had been on the training grounds after the poor news had broken that the URA Finale was at risk of a wash out from the rain. She tried to blink away these thoughts but she thought of those moments in the storm, scared of the thunder and lightning.
Scared of disappointing Aoi and bringing shame to the prestigious Kiryuin name.
Happy Meek ascended. She kept running. She passed by her rivals, her friends, and strangers alike. The race seemed all but endless as the roar of the crowd overwhelmed her. This was it. The epitome of a race well run. Good sportsmanship, precious memories, and then so much at risk and at reward. She focused on herself.
Her rhythm, her pace. Her goals, her loved ones. She thought of what Aoi had told her and right now, it was all she could feel: they had thunder in their hearts. Poor, sweet, and easily scared: absent minded with two left feet, Happy Meek was far from a force of nature like a storm and yet she fully believed Aoi’s words. She would become the sweeping tempest of a victor.
In those words that Aoi had spoken, in the cold and dreary afternoon of a storm, Happy Meek found important courage within her because it truly was now or never. She sped up. Five hundred metres, four hundred metres, she panted, three hundred metres, two hundred metres, her arms were cut by the wind, one hundred metres, zero metres, her heart pounded like a drum. She was exhausted but she felt unburdened by it.
She would never have to run a losing race after this ever again and yet. Somewhere in it all, in her head which was clouded by all the time she had spent with Aoi, in sorrow and in joy, in mirth and in melancholy, she had done it. She hadn’t even realised until she saw it out of the corner of her eye.
Her idol costume on the big screen and then and only then did she realise. She had been the first to pass by the ornate metal decoration which had been erected for the sole purpose of the URA Finale.
How… How?
Happy Meek was basked in so much cheer. In so many voices combined as one just to encourage her and she slowed to a jog. She waved hello to old and new fans alike. She searched for Aoi’s face first amongst the near endless crowd which had been built up in the URA Finale’s grandstands.
There was so much to do afterwards but in the tunnel, it slowed to a snail’s crawl. She and Aoi had all the time in the world for Happy Meek to catch her breath and prepare for her very first concert wherein she was the heroine in position zero: centre stage and with a solo in the middle. It was going to be glorious but not as glorious as all Happy Meek wanted as she had one on one time with her trainer.
Happy Meek smiled and Aoi covered her own mouth. She was beside herself in glee. Music hummed in the distance but they felt like they were in a world of their own backstage.
“I did it.” Happy Meek declared. Her voice was still its usual soft volume and yet, the confidence that she held was entirely new. “I won.”
“You did!” Aoi squealed. “You did it, you won!”
There were tears of joy in the corner of Aoi’s eyes. She was so cute. So happy. So over the moon. Happy Meek had never seen her like this before. They had finally done it together: they brought in her biggest win and finally, a jewel for Aoi’s resume.
Happy Meek’s heart wavered. She needed to do the right thing, to return to favour. She reached out. She wiped Aoi’s tears away. Her fingers trembled, she was awkward as she smudged the tears away. Aoi’s skin was warm and taut. She had never touched it before.
“What are…?” Aoi’s voice trailed off.
She couldn’t complete her question. Happy Meek couldn’t answer it. The words she wanted to say were so near and dear to her, they slipped out effortlessly as she looked up at Aoi with all the admiration in the world.
“I was able to do it because of you, Kiryuin-san.” Happy Meek confessed. “I thought about you. I wanted to make you happy and I remembered what you said. About how we have thunder in our hearts. Then I heard it. The thunderous applause and the next thing I knew… I'd won.”
“I… I’m so glad.” Aoi cried. “I’m so glad that my words were able to move you… That’s… That’s all I want as your trainer.”
“I’m glad I was able to be your trainee, Kiryuin-san…” Happy Meek murmured. She took a breath and she savoured how her lungs inflated so fully for the first time after the race. She closed her eyes briefly and when she exhaled, they opened and she saw what she wanted in such pristine clarity. “I’m glad I was able to make you happy because… because you are my most important person, Kiryuin-san, I mean it. With all my heart. I never want to be apart, I can’t imagine anyone being as important to me as you are.”
Aoi was taken aback by Happy Meek’s words. She flinched at the touch of Happy Meek’s gentle fingers still by her face. Aoi looked deep into Happy Meek’s eyes, the pink glistened with such intensity. It was entirely possible that this was the most that Happy Meek had ever spoken to her in the past three years. Even Happy Meek was thinking as such as her words lingered, ardent and uncomfortable. She was of so little words but they always meant such enormity. Especially in this instance. Aoi hesitated but Happy Meek meant it all and possibly even more.
Even if they had to cross lines between trainer and trainee, mentor and protege, student and teacher. Happy Meek’s feelings transcended them all and became all encompassing.
“I want to keep running with you, Aoi-san.” Happy Meek affirmed.
“I… I do, too.” Aoi hesitated and, yet she softened into Happy Meek’s touch.
Happy Meek’s heart skipped a beat and she smiled shyly. There was more ordinance outside of their hidey hole in the stadium. It sounded almost like thunder but no, it was Happy Meek’s name being called for the winning concert. Aoi smiled and encouraged her to go and meet her peers on stage. Happy Meek nodded and made the silent promise: all that she would sing would be sung for her dear Kiryuin Aoi.
Because all the thunderous applause in the world paled in comparison to what Aoi did for her.
Written for Femslash Fete as part of its amnesty posting
Prompt: Liniment
Title: This Might Sting
Ship: Moonflowershipping | Lillie/Selene
Fandom: Pokemon Sun and Moon
Word Count: 1,468
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Tags: Developing Relationship, Affection, Minor Blood and Injury
Selene’s jaw dropped, her eyes widened as her heart swelled. She had never seen anything like this before. Her life in Kanto had been so humdrum and drowsy, without the bombastic colour of Alola. She didn’t know how to describe it, except with the utmost excitement.
She would never have guessed this rocky, mountainous area with deep ravines and tall outcrops would beguile a sea of so many flowers. She saw Pokemon, including species she had never seen before, bop up and down amid the flora. The flowers were a bright and vivacious yellow, they swayed in a balmy sea breeze which was fresh and clear.
Every corner of Alola had been nothing but a feast for the senses. Coming off the high of her first Totem Battle and even learning the intricacies of Z Moves, Selene felt so very honoured. She had been welcomed so warmly to the Region with such open arms and boundless camaraderie. It was a very different experience, she thought, to what she had so far in life.
The sight of Melemele Meadow consumed all of Selene’s vision as she stood on the other side of its entrance with Lillie. Lillie, meanwhile, did not have the stars in her eyes for this secreted, little locale than Selene as she desperately scanned the area for her precious Nebby.
Her chin pruned as she chewed her lip, “Oh, where are they…?”
“Right there!” Selene spotted the cosmic critter.
“Ah, thank goodness,” Lillie breathed a sigh of relief until she realised, “oh dear, I-I couldn’t possibly, there’s so many wild Pokemon a-and I only have so many repels.”
“Not to worry, I’ll go bring Nebby back to you.” Selene offered.
Lillie turned on her shoes and faced towards Selene, her skirt bouncing in the wake. She clasped her hands together and clasped her hands together.
“Thank you so much, Selene.” Lillie replied, appreciation soaked her voice.
Selene threw up a thumbs-up for her and a cheeky grin to match. She giggled and Lillie’s apprehension over how too adventurous her Nebby was. She nodded and Selene got to work.
She readjusted her bag, checked her Pokemon’s health status, and then turned to face the meadow again. She took one big step for Nebby and then face planted.
Selene tripped over a loose pebble in the grit and dirt underfoot. She went down, arms flailing, and was head over everything else. She ate it good and Lillie shrieked in solidarity. Selene, meanwhile, had hardly made a noise as she kicked up a cloud of dust in her clumsiness.
Lillie’s eyes were wide and frantic, she hid her mouth with her hands as she waited for a sign of life from Selene. She groaned and grumbled as she came back up. She got onto her knees and readjusted her beanie.
“A-Are you okay?” Lillie squeaked. “C-Can I help you?”
Selene folded her legs underneath her and laughed, apologetically.
“I’m so sorry.” Lillie said. “I-I shouldn’t have asked you to help me. I-I should just wait for Nebby-”
“Lillie, it’s fine, I’m fine.”
Selene interrupted her catastrophizing and looked up over her shoulder at poor Lillie. To console Lillie, that it was just an accident, she flashed a smile that was as wobbly as it could be and put her hand out.
Lillie took the hint and she helped Selene to her feet. Selene groaned again as her legs rebelled against her and Lillie struggled but they both got there in the end. Lillie had some toothpick thin arms and a weak grip but she did her best and Selene couldn’t thank her enough for it.
Once upright, Selene stumbled again, to both their fright, but she was fine. She stabilised. She was on two feet, was dusted off, and bleeding at the knee.
“Selene!” Lillie gasped.
“Huh? Oh, uh…”
Selene hadn’t even noticed it but it was the first thing that Lillie did. Selene put her leg out slightly and angled her knee around. She was bruised very lightly, more dirty than anything else but yes, there was a bit of blood in between the orange dirt specks and minor bruising.
“Let me help you.” Lillie insisted.
Selene blinked. She had been half expecting Lillie to faint but instead, Lillie steeled her nerves, her brows furrowed as she pouted - and rearranged her bag.
“I don’t just have Pokemon medicine on me, but human medicine, too.” she said.
“Thanks, I won’t mind a bandaid and some steriliser if you have them.” Selene replied.
“On it.” Lillie replied.
She came down to her knee and Selene put her foot down. Lillie rummaged around in her bag and then produced a little kit that she could use to clean Selene up. It was a white, canvas baggie with a green cross embroidered on it. It looked brand new. She opened it up and selected carefully from its contents. None of which were out of place, or seemingly previously opened. Selene was impressed. Lillie was awfully prepared for such an easily frightened girl.
Now, what she chose resembled the potions and elixirs that PokeMarts stocked for Pokemon. It was a bottle with a pink plastic base and white nozzle. She wielded it with surgical precision and checked in with Selene with a most serious gaze.
“This might sting.” Lillie warned.
“Okay.” Selene mumbled.
She watched, curious, as Lillie had all the seriousness in the world under her wing as she made good on her word. She gave the spray bottle a good squirt and Selene could have jumped out of her skin.
“Eek!”
“Sorry!”
“I-It’s okay.”
Both girls sounded surprised and embarrassed over their respective outbursts. Selene wanted to prove she was strong, that she wasn’t a wimp. It’s not like she had a big bruise and gaping wound or anything and Lillie wanted to be so gentle as she played nurse. As such, their reactions were at odds against one another and had them both blushing, making a big deal out of not much to begin with.
The spray that Lillie was wet. Obviously. It came on cold but it was also spicy, for lack of a better word. It was odourless and sprayed on clear but turned greasy the longer it stayed on Selene’s skin. Otherwise, it only looked as though Selene had been spritzed with water. It sterilised the injury and caused dirt to clump: perfect for Lillie to wipe clean.
Of which, Lillie was thorough and she had good technique, too. Or so Selene assumed. Her expression was so determined, her movements were precise: up and down, left to right, then repeat. Until Selene was squeaky clean. No dirt, no blood. Though her skin was ruddy and sensitive but on the whole, Selene would say she was as good as new.
“Okay, I’m just going to put a bandaid on to protect it.” Lillie said.
“Thank you, Lillie, you're so thoughtful.”
Lillie couldn’t take the compliment but her expression was so bubbly and excited as she replied, “And you are too kind. There we go.”
She patted down Selene as she plastered a bandaid over where she had been hurt. The colour of it was a bright yellow. It was shiny in the sunlight and sticky and Lillie was going to make sure it stuck, or so Selene helped her. She was forceful as she placed it down and gave Selene a massage just to make sure that it wouldn’t come off anytime soon as Selene ran and jumped amongst the flowers in the meadow.
“You are good to go.” Lillie announced.
“Thanks, Lillie.” Selene replied.
Lillie smiled, relieved, as Selene admired her leg. She was all patched up and couldn’t be happier, or more raring to go. Nebby was still on the loose after all and a peculiar Pokemon like it shouldn’t be getting into mischief.
Lillie returned to full height and adjusted her bag. She refilled it with her little first aid kit and seemed quite pleased that she was able to help Selene out.
“Alrighty,” Selene proclaimed, “let’s try again and go rescue Nebby.” She pumped her arm to show off her determination and slapped her hand over her bicep to seem even more enthusiastic.
Lillie bounced on the spot, “Thank you again, Selene. I really appreciate it.”
“Save the gratitudes for after. First, let’s make sure I don’t biff it again.” Selene laughed.
Lillie joined her awkwardly and Selene turned forward again, into the vivacious flora of the Mele Mele Meadow. She took a breath. On her marks, get set, go. Selene was off like racing stripes into the flowers so she could go corral Nebby and this time.
She didn’t trip over and make a fool of herself. Instead, she made herself a hero as she returned to Lillie with Nebby successfully in tow.
Typically, Erika could want for nothing in her home town of Celadon City but her hobby as a perfumer sometimes sent her far and wide for the perfect specimen to add to her collection.
Normally, Erika didn’t mind getting out and about. She liked to stop and smell the flowers, appreciate the diversity of Kanto but there was one place that she didn’t enjoy going and that was Saffron City.
Not for any fault of its own, of course. Erika was simply content with her department stores back home and the mom and pop restaurants. Saffron City had a very different vibe despite the two of them being the east and west of the same route. Saffron City was a whole lot more mechanised, urbanised, it rolled through on cement and asphalt, didn’t have a lot of greenery and the people…
Well, Erika doesn’t want to admit it but she found the people of Saffron City to be uncommonly standoffish and aloof. Worse still, it was home to the Saffron City Gym which had a terrible reputation for ruthlessness surrounding it. The hostile takeover of Psychic unto Fighting allowed a peculiar and cruel woman to come to power and Erika didn’t find that boded well for Saffron City or the Pokemon League at large.
It was good to be powerful and respected but that shouldn’t come at the cost of kindness or humility. Not to mention, in her personal opinion, Erika was not fond of Sabrina on account of finding her scary.
She was quite the intimidating woman, especially with her psychic powers that swirled around her. A shiver was sent down Erika’s spine, and she could feel her part Poison Type Pokemon quiver in their PokeBalls as she stood in front of the Gym and stared it down.
It was only polite! She was doing her due diligence as a neighbouring Gym Leader, or so Erika tried to convince herself. She was weak in the knees and her teeth were chattering. No one would know if she turned tail and ran away. Only she would and she wasn’t a sore loser so it wouldn’t be any chip off her pride.
However, though technically Erika didn’t have to, she could feel the duties she had agreed to when she signed a contract with the Pokemon League so it was obligatory to at least go and say hello.
So, she sucked it up and took a breath. She felt her chest expand and she finally found the courage to open the door - only for it to swing open from the other way for her.
“Eek!” Erika squealed.
Erika jumped out of her skin and leapt back. Her skin prickled and her eyes went wide as… a friendly man opened the door.
“Ah, Erika, it's good to see you!”
Erika blinked and she settled down. She stepped closer and placed her hand over her heart in some semblance of comfort. It beat so fast beneath the breast of her kimono. She looked closer at the man who was greeting her at the door. She didn’t recognise him and yet, there was a familiar edge of his black hair which looked almost blue.
“Sabrina’s been expecting you.” he said. “She had a vision of a kindly visitor from the League and here you are.”
Erika laughed awkwardly, “Here I am…”
“Oh! I forgot to introduce myself,” the man realised and he seemed shocked at his own carried away rudeness, “I’m Sabrina’s father, I’m also her new doorman.”
“I see.” Erika said and she calmed down somewhat at the introduction. She smiled courteously and bowed forward slightly. “It’s good to make your acquaintance, though you already know… I am Erika of the Celadon City Gym. The pleasure is all mine.”
Sabrina’s Father grinned, “You are every bit as sweet and polite as Sabrina said. Now, this way if you please.”
“Of course.” Erika replied.
She placed her hands in front of her and followed after Sabrina’s Father deeper into the Saffron Gym. He made cheerful small talk and Erika obliged him but wasn’t overly focused on the chat. Her eyes were too busy wandering along the interior of the Gym.
It was so dark and gloomy here. Not to sound like she photosynthesised herself but would it kill someone to open a window? The blood red walls and violet, velvet furniture was so foreboding and ominous. The air was so hot and stuffy, as well, Erika found herself sweating as she passed by the grandstands and main match area.
There were no Gym Trainers and certainly no Gym Leaders here, either. Erika couldn’t blame the former as this place was so eerie and oppressive. That did not excuse Sabrina and if she was psychically expecting her, then there was no reason to be late or absent.
Except to intimidate.
Erika began to brew with dread and anxiety. And beside her, Sabrina’s Father was entirely oblivious as he held down his cap then looked left and then right.
“Huh… Sabrina was here a minute ago, I wonder where she went. I’ll go check backstage.” he said.
“Thank you.” Erika replied.
Though she felt anything but grateful.
He ran off and she was left alone in this terrible Gym. She rearranged her sleeves and collar of her kimono in some vain hope of letting some air in but her fidgeting just made it worse. Erika chewed her lip. She weighed up her options of staying or going but it was absolutely too late now to run away.
Yet she turned around regardless. Just in case she wasn’t as far away from the entrance as she thought she was. She turned her clog at her ankle, looked over her shoulder and boo!
Erika screamed in surprise. She stumbled back and collapsed on the ground. Laughter at her fear echoed through the room.
A Haunter?!
Erika rubbed her eyes and no, they did not deceive. That was, in fact, a Ghost-Type in the Psychic Type Gym. It grinned so jolly with a tongue that lolled and bounced up and down in the air where it hovered, grappling the air and Erika fumed.
“N-Not funny.” Erika mumbled.
“Apologies, he is… inappropriate from time to time.”
The cool, calm voice of a young woman sent a chill down Erika’s spine.
She looked over her shoulder the other way and she felt vertigo as she looked up the figure of Sabrina. She loomed over her, from underneath that blunt fringe of hers and her posture was prim.
Until she bent at the knee.
She knelt down and offered her hand to Erika but did not smile. Nor was there a glint of kindness in her eyes from what Erika could sense. Pure obligation, possibly even pity was all that fueled Sabrina.
Yet Erika accepted the gesture, nonetheless.
Her kimono was tight and her head was still spinning from the double assault of surprises. She would appreciate the help and Sabrina did loan it in spades. More than just pulling Erika up, Sabrina steadied her with her other hand until Erika was standing at full height again.
Erika huffed and she dusted herself off. She was suspicious as Haunter floated closer and bobbled laps around Sabrina’s head. At such silliness of Haunter’s seemingly blithe soul, Sabrina did crack the smallest smile and that scared Erika too.
Creepy paired too well with creepy. It unsettled Erika.
“I’m still training him but he is a dear friend to me, I’m glad you can make his acquaintance, Erika,” Sabrina said, “I have been expecting you.”
“Your Father mentioned as much…” Erika replied.
“Mm, he is very helpful. I’m glad to have him around.” Sabrina said and Erika noticed it.
A light in Sabrina’s eyes when she was talking about her father.
“I have been restructuring my Gym as of late.” Sabrina said.
“That would explain the Haunter, pivoting to your previous ace’s weakness? How bold.” Erika observed.
Sabrina shook her head, “No, not quite. Psychic Types are still my favourite, whom I resonate most with. This Haunter is my friend. I don’t have many of those. I want to change that. Change who I am. No more, shall I let loose my selfishness I had mistaken for ruthlessness. I recently saw the error of my ways, how arrogant and cruel I had been. Do you think I have been arrogant and cruel, Erika?”
Erika erred with precaution.
The answer she wanted to give was a complete and resounding yes.
She recalled the first time she had met Sabrina.
It was quite some time ago, in truth. Close to the beginning of both their careers in the Pokemon League and as such, they had met at the head office. There had been a gala and Erika had done her best to impress. She loved socialising, and loved parties, with their mingling and their finger food. She believed that was called extraversion but to her, it was her calling as someone who dreamed of being an immaculate maiden.
However Sabrina was not quite the social Butterfree. She was more introverted, more closed off than Erika who found it easy to make small talk. At first, Erika assumed such reluctance was shyness but she realised quickly, that was not the case when the first person to speak to Sabrina without her indiciating she had permitted them to got quite the lashing.
Glasses of orange juice smashed against the wall. An unexplained wind blew and an aura of electric blue surged. The person who invoked such a response was hurt: not with a hand but an unseen force, it left a welt upon her face.
Due to such commotion, people shouted and screamed as a storm brewed and plates broke under the pressure. All of it was caused by Sabrina and that was no secret as she glared, as she made it known that none of her threats were empty.
And that person who had been the brave fool to try and mingle with Sabrina? It was, of course, Erika as she had not been warned in advance that Sabrina was difficult. Let alone gifted.
Such a first meeting left an impression on Erika, and it was not a good one.
However, she believed in being the bigger person, in olive branches even. She had to. It was part of her job. Not merely because of her own good graces as a forgiving soul. Such an occurrence made her wary around Sabrina and Sabrina must know it.
“I do.” Erika replied at long last. “I can forgive a small faux pas but your behaviour that day, and since, was inexcusable.”
“I realise that now.” Sabrina said.
She turned shy. Genuinely shy. Small, even. Her Haunter noticed and looked confused as Sabrina withered under the weight of her own shame and guilt. She held herself, literally, her hand clamped to her other arm but she had to hold onto more.
To her old self who wailed beneath the surface of her tempestuous mind. That electric blue aura surged again but Sabrina grit her teeth, she held herself tighter and that caused that colour to die down again.
“I’m sorry.” Sabrina said.
There was probably more to it than that but for now, she was sorry. She was sorry and she was too stubborn to say the more that she needed to say but Erika exhaled. She smiled.
“I forgive you.” Erika said. “I can tell. You have turned over a new leaf.”
She giggled at her own little allusion to her preferred Grass Type. Sabrina found it trite and yet, she said naught. Instead, she smiled a tiny bit more: to the absolute jubilation of her friend Haunter. It giggled and guffawed, it pat Sabrina atop of her head. Her hair bounced underneath its gaseous claws.
“You can count me a friend now, too, I promise.” Erika said.
Sabrina shivered. Her body language opened up: her shoulders pressed back, she let go of her arm.
“Thank you, Erika. That means a lot to me. To have my first friend in… in…”
Forever? The Pokemon League? Erika’s heart skipped as she found a way to more elegantly convey the gratitude that Sabrina was grappling with.
“My first friend.” Erika corrected her.
There was no point in quantifying it, she believed. It was an important milestone, it didn’t matter how late in life it had come or if it ought to be attached to professional matters. She was Sabrina’s first friend and for that, she felt quite honoured.
“You are a sweet person, Erika.” Sabrina complimented her.
“And it is clear to me, you are a happier person now.” Erika said.
“I am. I feel happier of late.” Sabrina confessed.
“I’m proud of you.” Erika replied.
Sabrina turned her head and met Erika’s gaze. Sabrina’s expression was melancholy.
“Sometimes, all it takes is facing your fears head on, with open arms instead of lashing out.” Sabrina added.
“Y-Yes, I suppose it does.” Erika stammered.
Sabrina glanced at her and Erika avoided Sabrina’s gaze. She was inelegant and obvious in her demeanour as she tried to think about anything else but there was no hiding her thoughts when she was standing next to an ESPer. She fidgeted guiltily.
“You had every right to be concerned but I think you have earned the commendation considering you, too, have faced your fears in visiting. Despite, all of us being… Well…”
“Yes.” Erika agreed.
She didn’t need to be a mind reader either to know that Sabrina was alluding to not one, not two but all three scares that Erika had here. None of them had been good for her ticker. She was such a low blood pressure kind of young woman but she had endured them all and now, it was for the better since it had allowed reconnection and reconciliation with Sabrina.
Erika swallowed and she glanced curiously to Sabrina, “So, um, if you don’t mind me asking… What was the fear you faced that became the catalyst of your change?”
“It was all thanks to this recent Gym Challenger I had who gifted me this Haunter. He taught me that laughter is the best medicine, that people respond better to kindness than to cruelty.” Sabrina added.
“A recent Gym Challenger, you say?” Erika echoed and she wondered. “Hm, I had a mischievous young man through recently, too.”
“The very one.” Sabrina confirmed.
“Interesting.” Erika giggled.
At the prompt of her laughter, Haunter came closer. It made a pleading face at Erika and Sabrina gave her a nod of her head; non-verbal encouragement to further the theme of facing fears. With a nervous exhale, Erika lifted her hand. Along the edge of her slender fingers, there was a noticeable quiver as she raised it to the dome of Haunter’s head. She patted it.
And she was surprised by how soft Haunter was. There was a little ruff of peach fuzz at the top of its head, anything further down was gaseous but that too was soft like a cloud. It enjoyed the attention, too, Erika realised.
It loved the touch of her hand, too. Haunter nuzzled into the palm of her hand as though forcing Erika to give it even more head pats and made a happy noise which was grizzled at the tone.
“Ah, so cute…” Erika murmured.
Sabrina watched, mutably delighted that Erika and Haunter had become friends. That she had even made a friend at all herself. She hoped this was the start of something beautiful and she didn’t have to hope that Erika felt the same way as the once scary Saffron Gym softened up at her touch.
Written for both Femslash Fete and the Rarest of Rare Pair Ficathon
Femslash Fete Prompt: Satin
Rarest of Rare Pair Fic-a-Thon Prompt: Satin and Silk
Title: Winner’s Sash
Ship: Happy Mee/Kiryuin Aoi
Fandom: Uma Musume Pretty Derby
Word Count: 2,597
Rating: T
Warning: Choose Not to Warn
Tags: Age Difference, Student/Teacher, Mentor/Protege, Kissing
Late December was a beautiful time of year.
There was a crispness in the air which burned Happy Meek’s lungs and kept her warm against the actual chill of the wintry surroundings. The sky overhead was a rich blue streaked with fluffy, white clouds that clustered close to the Nakayama skyline. The grass underfoot was dewy, frost had only just begun to wane in the morning sun, she noticed as she loosened up and limbered before the race.
She scanned left through to right. She saw the face of her rival who gave a friendly smile and wave hello, as well as the more indifferent expressions of other competitors whom she was not familiar with. Then, outwards, to the grandstands beyond the barriers and the verdant, green turf where fans cheered and Trainers gave their very best support.
It was there, with her hands on the cylindrical, metal fence, that Happy Meek saw Aoi and she knew everything would be alright.
Today was Happy Meek’s very first G1 Race. She had done excellently during her June maiden debut where she began with a nascent lead. She’d done well in the lead up between various mile and medium races across G3 and G2 gradings, so she felt confident that despite being matched against the legacies King Halo, Happy Meek would do well.
With the walk of trepidatious excitement, out of the way, Happy Meek took her rightful place. She lined up at her starting gate. She took a moment of repose, she ran her hands over her costume: she relished the silken sheen of her pristine, baby blue dress underneath her palms. She made sure that it was without wrinkles and creases.
Instead of making sure her feet were in the right position below, or that her arms were at the ready for a raring start.
The starting gun fired its shot. Bang. The starting gates rattled and flung open. The immediate pack broke through and Happy Meek panicked. Aoi was not going to be happy about this late start.
Her high heels stumbled through the grass. Her form was off. It was embarrassing but no one was looking at her. All eyes were ahead, in the back, in the shiny and lustrous hair of her competitors and Happy Meek wanted to be there. In the middle of it. Fighting hard.
She wanted to run lots.
Her fingers curled into her palms. She corrected her posture. Her brows furrowed. She got serious. She hunkered down and she sped up to join the pack ahead of her.
The first five hundred metres erased behind her. Her cleats carved up the grass as she nudged and dodged. Her ears twitched. The voice over of the commentary was so far, far away. Her eyes trained ahead, in between the shoulders and necks that jostled, capes that fluttered and skirts that bounced.
With all the movement and motion, it seemed discordant in Happy Meek’s eyes as she did her best to catch up but then she saw her: King Halo.
She glanced over her shoulder and gave a hmph before recalculating ahead of her. Happy Meek didn’t back down despite such cheek from classmate.
King Halo had a real chip on her shoulder. They were of very different temperaments: Happy Meek ran cold, King Halo was fighting hot. There just seemed to be a lot more on King Halo’s plate than her own, Happy Meek suspected. She had a lot more at stake in the races that she ran than Happy Meek: she had her mother’s name to live up to her, her own illusions to disprove.
As such, she ran strategically. She went all out in the end but since Happy Meek hadn’t started on the right foot, she was going to take full advantage. She tried to block Happy Meek from joining the pack. She swerved this way and that way as she ran.
It almost frightened Happy Meek as she tried to overcome this blockage. The other racers around them were equally as clustered as Happy Meek caught up and tried to enter the fray.
She was just on the edge, just on the verge of breaking through but then something would happen. There’d be a change of guard up ahead, or someone else would burst on through. They all followed the bend of the track and it was on the first corner that Happy Meek found her strategy.
She had practiced it a hundred times. She could feel the expertise in her body tingle as she used her strength to show how adept she was at what it took to gain placement in the pack’s tangle as the curvature’s flow forced a new approach. She soared on through as another five hundred metres lapsed.
Happy Meek had finally overcome the loss of pace and focus due to her late start. It all turned into a smooth rhythm that let her run how she wanted to run: clear of mind and serene of heart. Joy welled up inside of her as she could see the remaining three quarters of the race afield, a few scattered front runners but most importantly, Happy Meek found her rightful place amongst her fellow pace chasers.
She kept running. They were half way through the race’s length but this was where they got serious. This was where it became do or die.
The track was wide open and there was a bouquet at the end of it, both in soft, petalled flowers and in large shafts of fanciful, painted decorations. There were cameras and billboards. It was exciting. It was the end destination as Happy Meek ran as hard as she could.
She let sweat fly off her body as she cut through the cold air. Her breath turned to mist in front of her as she did her best to focus on that end goal of the finishing line. The grass had so much give, it propelled her forward. Each stroke of her legs made her body ache.
It made her tremble with excitement, too.
She loved running. Running was the most fun that Happy Meek knew how to have. Her tail swished behind her, underneath the silk of her costume. Her ribbons fluttered, her ears felt the wind in them. It was freedom. It was euphoric. This is what she, as an Uma Musume was built for, destined for: the racing green and its wide open blue skies.
She was amongst friends all the same as she was amongst strangers for now, they were united in an unflinching quest for victory. Some would win, some would lose. Everyone gave their all.
Especially Happy Meek.
She could coast on through, with bronzes and top five showings, or she could go all the way. She was a Kiryuin Horse Girl: she would make or break Aoi’s reputation as a Trainer. Her parents were so famous, their Uma Musume were legendary, Happy Meek wanted to do her best so she and Aoi could take their combination to their rightful, near prodigal place in such halls of fame.
Her eyes closed briefly with a blink. She felt each and every eyelash buffeted by the wind and by inertia and on the inside of her eyelids, she saw Aoi. She saw Aoi’s pink hued cheeks, round with youth and her glossy, blue-black hair and her joyous, sapphire eyes.
She didn’t see tears, she didn’t see Aoi crying: she saw her happy and when Happy Meek opened her eyes again, she was full of inspiration. The final five hundred metres: the homestretch. Her heart thudded in her chest and she ran harder.
She competed harder.
There was so much push and shove in the final five hundred metres. King Halo came up the rear, she was ready for her close-up.
King Halo tried to overtake Happy Meek. They were shoulder to shoulder with lightning strikes in their eyes. A winter gale blew and dewdrops were whipped up in its wake. There wasn’t much left of the track at all between them and a whole new victory the likes of which neither Uma Musume had tasted before.
King Halo would get a centimetre ahead and Happy Meek would take it back. They went to and fro in a tussle, side by side, as their stamina burned on like a candle burned down to the flame. It was all they had as the wintry chill set in, frost on their outfits and noses ruddy as they worked up a sweat as the inevitable became now.
There could only be one winner and Happy Meek reached further. She ran harder. She pushed her body to a new limit and she had never felt free or more limber for it as she made darn sure that she put Kiryuin Aoi on the map as a trainer.
What happened next was the exact magic of movies and video games. They crossed the finish line but it was Happy Meek who was hailed as the victorious first place race despite her shoddy start and the uphill battle it had caused for her. She bowed politely for the cameras and her heart fluttered. She could hardly believe that was her up on the big screen but it really was.
Her very G1 win… Happy Meek was, well, happy.
And she couldn’t wait to share that happiness with Aoi.
She was given a trophy and a winner’s sash. Happy Meek bowed her head as she gratefully accepted her rewards. The trophy was heavy in her hands as she held onto it via its handles and she bowed her head for the sash. It was threaded over her head and placed over her chest with grace.
Happy Meek looked up and gave one last wave hello for the folks at home as the camera panned on from her. She earned her rightful accolades with applause and then… It was over. There was time to breathe, to let her body cool down and embrace the chill of winter again but on the inside, Happy Meek was so very warm as she met up with Aoi after the press run.
Aoi waited for Happy Meek to the side of the winner’s circle.
There was a little block for them to have a word together before Happy Meek was shepherded onto the concert and backstage for it to prepare. They stood in the cold with noon overhead, next to some vases and the steel fencing that separated the racing green from the rest of the race course.
Naturally, Aoi was beside herself with joy as Happy Meek was relinquished from the media circus into her care. She held out her hands and waved them hello, she practically vibrated on the spot as she welcomed Happy Meek to her side.
“Aah!” Aoi squealed in delight, “The winner’s sash looks so good on you, Meek!”
“Hehe, thanks.” Happy Meek humbly replied.
She showed off the sash this way and then that. It rested over the stark white of her idol outfit with the high contrast of its scarlet satin and gold tassels.
“You showed excellent wit during your race, Meek,” Aoi praised her, “I was worried, I won’t lie, but you recovered brilliantly and made good use of the skills we honed during training. I’m so, so SO proud of you.”
“Aw, shucks…” Happy Meek mumbled.
She smiled shyly and turned away slightly from Aoi. All Happy Meek wanted was to make Aoi happy and to run lots. To say she accomplished that today would be saying the least.
As her trainer, Aoi was the apple of Happy Meek’s eye. She hung to every word, the scolding and the encouragement, the praise and the criticism. Happy Meek cherished it all and somewhere along the way, in the last six months since being paired up with Aoi, she had fallen in love with her.
They spent week in, week out together. Morning and afternoon and sometimes in between or outside of those hours, too. They went to the aquarium and they went shoe shopping. They napped on each other’s shoulders on train trips and the like. It all served to inspire Happy Meek on the field.
And clearly, it worked.
Those precious thoughts of Aoi, of seeing her smile and cheer, were what helped propel Happy Meek from silver to gold. Her heart swelled three sizes right here and now, whilst her lungs recuperated and she felt every single nerve in her system.
There was a tingle in her lips and a murmur in her heart. Happy Meek needed to thank Aoi the only way she knew how.
She unwrapped her winner’s sash from around her. It made swishy noises as its satin slid against the silk of her clothes. She held it up and she leaned in. Her eyelashes fluttered as she stared deep into Aoi’s eyes with a quiet smile on her lips.
“Thank you for everything, Kiryuin-san.” Happy Meek mumbled as her arm went wide, with the winner’s sash like a flag beside her.
“What are you…?” Aoi’s words slipped from her mouth but she realised it might be best not to question it as she received all of Happy Meek’s adoration of her.
Happy Meek used the winner’s sash to protect her and Aoi from prying eyes, so no one could see how their lips met with a kiss. The satin shimmered in the sunlight as it was buffeted by the slightest breeze. Happy Meek kissed Aoi softly, to her surprise and against Aoi’s better judgement, she kissed back.
She shouldn’t.
They both knew she shouldn’t but a special occasion required special exceptions.
Happy Meek swooned into the kiss. It was everything that she dreamed it would be like when Aoi was the last thing she thought of before she drifted off to sleep and was the first thing she thought of as she roused in the morning. She was just so elegant and mature, with expensive perfume in luxurious notes of white peach, jasmine, and patchouli.
She couldn’t have been more thrilled by the kiss. The newness of its sensation: the closest she had ever been to another woman, the lack of technique and the chastity that came with the firstness of it. Happy Meek had pined for this moment for so long and she could feel something similar in Aoi, in her warm breath and in the softness of her lips.
But something else, too.
A friction between denial and acceptance in Aoi’s demeanour. She tried to reach out, she tried to reject Happy Meek’s come on. She was so sweet and innocent but they were mentor and protegee. Aoi broke the kiss off when Happy Meek had successfully won quite the medal of her first kiss from her.
“Ah, we shouldn’t be… It’s not very professional- it wouldn’t reflect well on-” Aoi tried to protest but it wasn’t just Happy Meek she had to convince, it was herself, too.
Happy Meek giggled.
Aoi relented in her worry with her previously fastidious expression giving way to a pout, “So long as this doesn’t happen again.”
“So long as what doesn’t happen…?” Happy Meek feigned ignorance but it was difficult to know for sure. She was such a space cadet, after all. “Attaining another winner’s sash?”
“No! Not that!” Aoi fell hook, line, and sinker for the silliness. Her hands curled into fists and she stamped her feet against the concrete. “I mean… the kissing.”
“Alright, I understand.” Happy Meek replied but she, for one, wouldn’t mind another.
Sakura had always known that her childhood upbringing was unusual.
She had been enrolled in all the pathways of becoming the perfect maiden: learning her keigo, flower arrangement, tea ceremonies, and more. That was old fashioned but not abnormal. Sakura actually quite enjoyed the extracurricular education that she got, her day-to-day was also quite lavish with excess money and even private schools.
She could seemingly want for nothing.
But she couldn’t help but ponder, how did her family come into wealth like this? She was seemingly in the same social class as other children her age who went to her all female private school and the like. Daughters and heiresses of various local companies and even politicians but they avoided her like she was bad luck. It confounded her. She was perfectly sweet, well mannered and yet there was a distinct discomfort when she was around other children, like they knew something she didn’t.
That’s when it began to twig for Sakura, in her later years, that most children could name more specific things about their parents’ businesses and work than she could. She knew the broad strokes: trade and commerce, real estate, so on and so forth but it's not like they were factory owners nor were they real estate agents.
Her parents were something else. Particularly her father as her mother seemingly never worked. The business partners that Sakura would glimpse here and there, from down the hallway, they scared her, quite honestly. They didn’t seem like regular businessmen.
Her brothers told her to shut up and not worry about these kinds of things. Takumi was worse for it than Ryoma, of course, Ryoma was more mild mannered about it but his thousand yard stare left Sakura with a terrible inkling. Asking her elder sister got her nowhere fast either. Hinoka was more ambivalent than either Takumi or Ryoma but her poker face was cement strong. She might know things but she might not. She wasn’t going to share her thoughts on the topic with poor Sakura either way.
That only left Hana she could query but surely Hana was just as clueless as she was, right? They were each other’s best, and only, friends.
Hana was just as much on the outside as Sakura when it came to their classes. Anywhere Sakura went, Hana went, too. They did all the same classes, all the same extracurriculars. Sakura was never lonely with Hana around even if they were both school pariahs.
With her bubbling energy and big personality, Hana was always a step ahead, clearing the path for Sakura to go. Sakura appreciated it, how Hana showed her love and admiration for her with this overprotective streak, too. She wasn’t perfect, especially when it came to her manners and that was why she found it difficult to get along with their classmates.
Despite the ostracism they were brought up with in the realm of their classrooms, Hana went above and beyond to make Sakura feel like the most important girl in the world. An effort no one else went to.
A theory that Sakura had tested once, during elementary school. She had been so nervous to finally go to “big school”. She had been so shy and awkward at preschool - when she was allowed to go, mostly she was looked after by her stay at home mother and so, the promise of elementary school seemed so grand. Until it became clear to her that she wasn’t like the other children, for some intangible and invisible reason.
That’s when Hana appeared before her, seemingly out of the blue, one rainy day. As it was so cold, Sakura had to imagine that it was probably snowing somewhere in the mountains. It was a miserable, rainy day and school had hardly begun but Sakura already worried it was over because something wasn’t right.
She hid in the playground, under the slide and she waited for someone to come find her. For someone to even notice she had gone missing. She hid after the bell rang and then no one sought for her.
An hour or maybe more passed until all of a sudden, Hana found her.
Sakura could still feel the trill of surprise in her chest as she recalled this memory of elementary school. Hana was sopping wet from the rain but she couldn’t have cared less as she bopped and bounced around, flopping down next to her and beaming.
“Are you okay?” Hana asked.
Sakura smiled hesitantly. She was okay now that her friend had found her. Hana’s big smile, with her front tooth missing, gave her the warmest fuzzies as rain lashed the plastic play equipment that they sat under. Sakura uncurled so she could see Hana better.
“Thank you for finding me, Hana.” Sakura replied, her voice warbled as she was on the edge of tears. Though, they were mostly happy tears. A paradox she had never encountered before.
“Yay, I’m glad.” Hana cheered but she got serious. Her eyelashes fluttered. “Hey, Sakura… I promise. I pinkie promise, even, I’ll always be by your side. I’ll always be your best friend.”
Sakura blinked owlishly, “Pinkie promise…?”
“Yeah, pinkie promise!” Hana enthusiastically replied. “It’s like a magic spell.”
“O-Oh, I see.” Sakura mumbled.
Hana stuck out her hand with her pinkie finger extended. Sakura nodded and she took the hint. She mimicked Hana’s hand gesture and then, they shook on it. Hana more vigorously than Sakura but it just made Sakura laugh. She didn’t doubt it for a moment, Hana’s loyalty, not even when this magic spell came with a hex.
“Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye…” Hana mumbled.
That seemed rather scary to Sakura but she let it go. Hana’s finger, curled around her own, was so warm. Her energy was boundless and her heart shone so true that it could blind even on a terrible, dark day.
Every day, despite it all, Hana stuck to her word. Her loyalty was endless and they stuck through it all over the years. From failing math classes to flailing in physical education. They were the best of friends, never one without the other and all whilst under the discordant ire of their peers.
Really, what they had was special. One of a kind. She was truly fortunate to have a bosom buddy, the kind of friend that seemed to only exist in fiction. With Hana around, Sakura could want for nothing as far as companionship went but when she saw the other girls in their classes… It did seem strange that Hana was her one and only friend amongst the different people that they had classes with.
Not to mention, again, the way in which they were both treated like lepers was so suspicious to Sakura. She truly did not know what she, or Hana, could have possibly done to offend but clearly, it was unforgivable.
An offence, a grudge which persisted over so long. Various classes, different schools. It was the same. That was just so bizarre to Sakura. But that had to be her overthinking. Hana never blinked twice at the phenomena, seemingly unaware of it.
Sakura couldn’t fault Hana for that. She was so unobservant that it was actually cute. She was happy with what she had, it seemed like fate given the origin of their friendship. They had come into each other’s lives so young and they were always at hip all because their fathers were business partners.
Of some description…
Hana idolised her father and her father was quite important to the branch of the family business. She always wanted to be just like her dad when she grew up. Sakura could basically hear Hana yammer in her ear about how cool and tough her dad is and how much of a trusted associate he is to Sakura’s own father.
Though, she didn’t really know what Hana’s father had done for her own father for him to earn such accolades - assuming they weren’t the misinformed bragging of his starry eyed daughter. At most, when Sakura thought of Hana’s father, the best she could think of was how he was an occasional emcee for the yearly shrine events and festivals. People loved his larger than life character, his tricks and tips but that was about it.
Sakura heard whispers about him being dodgy or shifty. She didn’t know what he did in the boring day to day, especially not for her father. He was probably just another salaryman when he didn’t have his tie wrapped around his head and a liquored up courage.
Either way, Hana loved her father and the image that she had of him. There was none quite so unreliable a narrator as a child who loved their parents, after all. Take even Sakura as an example as she tried to examine the oddities that she was brought up with and yet, none analysis revealed anything except for deep love and piety.
Whatever had happened between their parents was done again with them. It was the most scandalous thing that Sakura had ever done: having a sip of sake whilst underage. It was Hana’s idea, it was a hot summer’s day in the holidays of their second year of high school.
Somewhere in the middle of hazy, fugue days of youth and warmth, there was this one moment that stood out in Sakura’s mind with the utmost clarity. From how the sun seared her eyes to the cadence of Hana’s voice. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, they were the only homes at Sakura’s home which was a traditional style manor.
It was so hot that the air conditioning had given up. They could share a corded fan, sure, but it was barely enough to satiate their near for cool. It was so unbearable inside, they sat on the veranda which wrapped around the courtyard. The garden had wilted and they were parched. There was water in the refrigerator, same with soft drinks and iced tea but when Hana came back from the kitchen, she had come back with some sake that belonged to Sakura’s parents.
Hana laughed cheekily, sunshine and sweat on her face, “This will take the edge off.”
“Wh-What, no?” Sakura sputtered.
“Please, I want to drink with you. Just a cup, look how small they are.” Hana egged her on.
The ceramics that Hana had smuggled back were tiny and shiny. They were a pristine white, handwashed from the night before, and the bottle had a pastel blue design of vines and bountiful foliage.
“Alright.” Sakura relented.
She hid herself between her shoulders. Her ears tinged red as she felt so naughty that they were doing but she was enamoured with Hana’s grin. She poured out a few millimetres of sake each into the different cups.
Sakura went to pick one up but Hana swatted her hand away. Sakura blinked, confused, and Hana hawed. She hadn’t meant to be rude and as such, her bravado gave way to awkwardness.
“Ah, not like that…” Hana mumbled. “I want… I want to do something special with us. Will you let me?”
Sakura had no idea what Hana meant but she went along with it. Especially as she did some peculiar things. Sakura wasn’t sure what had gotten into her but it was entertaining. Hana had always been something of a performer, the loudest and worst voice of karaoke, happy to be the butt of a joke but she took this somewhat seriously.
Though her actions seemed random at best. She turned her phone’s torch on and she scattered some salt, too, that she had in a sachet stuffed in her pocket. She had gotten it from the restaurant they went to a couple nights ago, Sakura recognised. It was almost as though she had been planning this stunt for a little while.
“There we go, all purified.” Hana announced. “Now we can start. Okay, you gotta hold it like this and have a little bit to drink and then I’ll finish it.”
“Oh, okay…” Sakura murmured.
She let Hana manipulate her hand so she could best hold the cup pinched between her fingers. Sakura took a breath and then chucked back her head for a sip. The smell of the sake burnt her nostrils but the taste was milder than she was expecting though the alcoholic content made her cringe. She didn’t like the taste.
It was actually quite easy to not drink it all in one gulp. Sakura smacked her lips together in disgust then handed the cup to Hana. Hana finished it with gusto. She banged the cup on the veranda’s wooden floorboards when she was finished with such a noise, Sakura feared the cup would break.
It didn’t. So all they had instead was… an indirect.
Sakura touched her lips. The drink had been ice cold but it burnt her tongue. She wondered what Hana could taste.
“Ah, that’s the stuff.” Hana sighed contentedly with a huge grin. “Okay, now let’s let the gods of the garden have a drink, too…”
Hana took the second cup and she poured it on the ground. It seemed wasteful but made Sakura giggle nostalgically. When they were in elementary school, they had fairy gardens and the like in the courtyard. They would make little houses for them and then cry when birds or mice destroyed them. In middle school, the courtyard was just a courtyard but now as high schoolers, they had gods. It was all very peculiar and amusing to Sakura but she didn’t mind. She hoped the ants, or the gods should they exist, enjoy the damp sake in the dirt.
“One more for the road?” Hana suggested.
“S-Sure.” Sakura hiccuped, giddy to be doing the wrong thing.
Though, Hana was insistent again. She poured the cups of sake and then, they ringed their arms together and drank. Sakura drank from Hana’s cup and Hana drank from Sakura’s cup. The taste of the sake was still a shock to Sakura’s mouth but she disliked it slightly less as she stared into Hana’s joyous brown eyes.
It was an important memory to Sakura but now stuck out to her as odd. Hana’s motions, her words, they had been so ritualistic and she was unsure as to why. Some of it seemed like actions that would be taken in hackneyed romance novels or trite J-Dramas, cheap imitations of wedding scenes but that didn’t seem right. They were just two girls, drinking underage and sneaking around behind their parents’ back.
That was something that should be considered typical of teenage rebellion but then Hana topped it off with a suspicious statement at the bottom of the now empty sake bottle. Sakura was worried about how they would explain that away but Hana had a different take.
“Now we’re just like our fathers.”
Sakura really wasn’t sure what their fathers had to do with anything beyond maybe having paid for the booze. The unusualness of the statement gave Sakura a migraine but that was about it. She didn’t think too much more of it since she knew that Hana adored her father and she, of course, loved her own. She was more focused on what was over the horizon.
The blue summer sky, broken up by the roofing of the manor’s architecture was something that Sakura wouldn’t forget. She loved that colour, the beauty of it and how it reminded of how far the future was, how big the world was. It excited her and when she glanced at Hana again, her lips glistening with the sheen of the sake, licking it away, Sakura’s heart skipped a beat. They had so many more memories of their own to make, assignments to do and colleges to apply for. She couldn’t wait to see where this summer of youth would take them to the cusp of adulthood.
But now she was there and there was a problem.
Her Father didn’t want her to go to university. Sakura didn’t even want to do anything particularly expensive or draining. She wanted to get her certificates in administration and other clerical duties, a little bit of psychology or sociology to sate her intellectual needs. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with herself after high school but it didn’t seem to matter.
There was a whole lot of her life planned that she had been ignorant of until now because she was finally old enough to know. The family business.
The masquerade that Sakura had been brought up underneath had finally ended. The mask had not slipped but it had been taken off. Forcibly. Regretfully. Her Mother looked so sad as she asked Sakura to have a meeting with her and her Father in the kitchen.
Her Mother was seated at the table where she cooked. Though, no food had been prepared. Not even a drink of water. She indicated for Sakura to sit down, which she did but the atmosphere was strange and terse. Her Father lurked in the corner. Paced. He refused to meet either Sakura’s eyes or her Mother’s, instead he chose to study himself in the window, an oblique reflection highlighted by shadows. It was so late.
What could possibly be the problem? Only bad news, of course.
As though her Mother’s expression hadn’t already given it away, Sakura was being prepared for something terrible to hear. Though, her Father broke it.
“We need you to move to marry a rival gang’s son.”
“Pardon?” Sakura blinked.
Her Mother sighed and reached across the table. She took Sakura’s hand and consoled her wordlessly. She stroked Sakura’s knuckles. Though her comfort meant nothing when Sakura was so confused. Her heart was on the verge of breaking as the illusions of her nice, proper childhood came crashing down and the reveal of what sins had given them wealth came to be known to her.
“What do you mean?” Sakura asked.
“They chose you over Hinoka. Fine by us, you were a spare. It’s not ideal but I would rather sacrifice you than instigate a turf war.” her Father said.
Sakura squirmed. Why was she being talked about like she was some item or asset to be sold and bought? And by her Father no less? The dehumanisation sickened her.
“It’s for the best.” her Mother added. “We have been rivals with this gang for so long…”
“What do you mean rivals? What do you mean by gang?” Sakura exclaimed.
She felt like she had walked into a bizarro world. Not the family kitchen where she had shared countless meals, laughing and smiling, talking about her day with her beloved family members. She got up. She slammed her hands on the table.
Her Mother looked guilty. She bowed her head, her lips quivered.
Her Father sighed, both annoyed and dismayed, “We are the reigning kings of Tokyo gangs, the Hoshido family. We are yakuza. I hope you understand.”
She didn’t but she had no choice but to.
The next couple of days were a whirlwind. She was prepared as best as she could be. She was given some context, some background. A whole lot more of her Father’s job made sense now that Sakura knew the truth to how cutthroat it was and so on. Her Mother gave her a new set of clothes and a kiss on the cheek. She had gone through something similar when she was Sakura’s age and well…
That’s just how the life of a yakuza heiress went.
A life that Sakura had never dreamt for herself and was now strapped into against her will. She just wanted to be normal. On the inside. In a sense, she finally was but the truth was ugly, it was hideous. Every night when she was a child, she was tucked in and kissed good night by a murderer: her Father. It made Sakura sick to her stomach to think about and it was all she could.
Even though there were more pressing things to think about. She needed to make a good impression for her soon to be beau, after all. Should she wear a dress or kimono? It was likely to be pink either way. Sakura left it all to her parents. They knew more about this strange life in the underbelly of crime than she did but she did think it ought to be flashier than it actually was.
Choosing a Thursday night to have her introduction to her suitor and debut into the life of gangs seemed so ordinary. It didn’t seem flashy at all. Not even when she was told that they would be going into the red light district and to some kind of bar which belonged to another gang.
At least she wouldn’t be going it alone. Her brothers would be there. Her father. And her bodyguard, too.
Though, her bodyguard was quite the familiar face but that didn’t make Sakura feel happy, or even safer.
“Hana?” Sakura couldn’t believe her eyes as they waited outside of a night club. “What are you doing here?”
She was dressed to the nines. She was wearing charcoal black slacks with a blazer to match. Her pink tie was misshapenly tied around her neck. She had brought a wooden kendo stick with her to menace.
“Ah, you got me.” Hana laughed awkwardly.
Yet more for Sakura to process. At least now she knew what Hana’s father did. He was another of her father’s entourage, a high ranking underling and enforcer.
Sakura grimaced. She looked down the street. It all seemed so normal. It was night time but so bright, so well lit for area with the neon advertising and illuminated shop fronts. There were faceles people walking by, too, not even so much as glancing twice at the group of people waiting for approval from a bouncer. They seemed more like they were on the hunt for some takeaway but then again. Were they gangsters, too? Who knew…
Sakura reached out and she coaxed Hana closer. Their pinkie fingers interlocked. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Ryoma check his watch and heard Takumi complain under his breath that they were taking too long. The other gang should be here by now. The nightclub’s door waited for them like Moloch’s maw. Sakura shivered. The gale that blew cut.
She shuffled closer to Hana, “Did you know…?” Sakura asked, their hands remained interlocked but her own were weak in contrast to Hana’s firm grip. “Did you know, the whole time that we… we are yakuza?” Her voice was tiny with fear.
Hana laughed guiltily and that’s all Sakura needed for confirmation. She would have never guessed. Betrayal tinged her expression but there were so many things happening, it was brushed off. She was shuffled off. Takumi barked an order, they had to get moving.
It was time to meet her betrothed.
A bouncer finally opened up the doors and they were let on through as VIPs. Though, it didn’t seem very glamorous. Sakura felt awkward in her high heels and a dress which was cut a little shorter than she would be comfortable with. To say nothing of how it lacked something to even keep upright on her.
At her Mother’s supervision, Sakura had been put in a mini magenta dress with a sweetheart neckline. Though, her clavicles were done up with over the top costume jewellery and she had strappy high heels of white on her feet. She didn’t feel comfortable at all with her sex appeal upped.
She sat down, pressing down her skirt so her panties wouldn’t be seen, in a booth. Hana joined her on one side and her Father on the other. Their entourage lined up in order, one each side and then they were joined by some members of the other gang.
Her suitor was called Subaki and he was, by far, the most elegant out of the ruffians that he hung out with. He wore a blend of western and Japanese fashion. He sat primly across from Sakura and introduced himself with a bow of his head. He otherwise spoke few words and let the negotiators he brought to take the reins.
Sakura sat tightly in between her Father and Hana. She listened intently to how her future was laid out, what securities were on the line and whether she was worth the effort. Her knees knocked and so, she kept them clamped together as politely as she could. She grimaced and let the conversations happen around her.
These negotiations went back and forth for what felt like hours. Liquor flowed. There were some salty snacks to be had but Sakura had no appetite for any of it. Eventually some kind of resolution was reached. She had no choice but to believe her Father had her best interests in mind. Even if she was just an ends to a means.
“So, what do you think?” Subaki asked. “I think it's a match made in heaven.”
Sakura squirmed. She didn’t have any complaints. Not that she felt as though she would be courageous enough to speak up if she did.
“I have no objections,” her Father piped up, he sloshed some wine around a glass, his demeanour was casual, “but as they say, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Hana hummed aloud. She tapped her foot, she hugged herself. Aggression was beginning to mount.
Sakura glanced at her and there had been something unusual about Hana the whole night. Not only was she wearing something so far from her private school uniform but she had been holding her tongue the whole time but now. She was fit to burst. There was a nasty glint in her eyes as she made her move.
“I refuse.” Hana abruptly announced.
She got to her feet. Her chair clattered backwards as she rocketed to her feet. The various glasses of wine and other liquors on the table in front of her wobbled precariously as Hana got on her hackles.
“I object.” Hana reiterated. She puffed out her chest.
She cleared her throat and everyone stared at her.
“Ha-Hana, what are you doing?” Sakura hissed.
Embarrassment seared her face, hued her cheeks pink. She didn’t want to cause trouble, she didn’t want to rock the boat. Subaki seemed perfectly pleasant, even if she would really rather not given he was a stranger from another gang. Sakura was out of her depth and worth nothing more than what she could offer as a token of trade and barter in a barbaric world of men.
And yet… Hana stood resolute.
“I was so excited. I was told this would be my first mission but this is it? Sitting around and gossiping? Bah, humbug.” Hana snarled. “There’s no way in Hell that I’m gonna let this pretty boy take Sakura away from me.”
Subaki gasped, offended, “What are you talking about?” His voice was sharp. He, nor his gang, were not going to take kindly to Hana.
Actually, for that matter, nor was Sakura’s family and yet. Hana kept her chin up. She meant every word of it.
“I’m going to marry Sakura.” Hana announced. “I’m not going to let her marry some stranger, not when she’s…” Hana turned her head and she met Sakura’s gaze. Sakura was frantic but Hana was oddly calm. “Mine.”
“Sakura, what is she talking about?” her Father growled.
“Sir, I’m sorry but I already promised myself to Sakura. We did it: a sakazuki ceremony. I don’t care if it’s not legit, none of this is.” Hana argued.
Her Father glared at her, confused. Everyone seated at the table were wrinkles by Hana’s declarations but Sakura figured it out. She knew what Hana was talking about and it made her… Happy.
So that’s what Hana meant by those things they had done together. From the pinkie promise to that time they had gotten in trouble for drinking her Father’s sake. It was all an expression of Hana loving Sakura as more than just a best friend but romantically, too.
She thought it was wonderful. It certainly filled her with more confidence than the thought of being married off to this stranger. It was a shame she was the only one who thought that way. Her smile, with the glitter of thankful tears in the corner of both her eyes, damned her.
Subaki saw it and he hated it.
A fight broke out.
Subaki snapped at Sakura’s Father for being unable to control his subordinates. And for having a female in his ranks at all. Not that Hana was officially but two women on a night out sparked less attention than other combinations. Either way, the possible alliance by marriage went up in flames.
The scrape wasn’t as bad as it could have been but drinks were thrown. A lot of heated words were thrown out. There was a punch-up or two but nothing too violent. There were civilians around, after all. Still, it caused a scene.
The scuffle ended in a snap. They were on rival turf and didn’t want to stick their foot in it any further. They were booted pretty fast and it annoyed Takumi to no end. He was the loudest dissenter as their Father told them to just turn tail and lick their wounds.
However, that was not to say he was going to let what had happened slide by.
His fury was cold. His eyes were vacant and yet fixated on Sakura. Hana held her hand and she was still spitting insults at a closed door. They would both pay for this.
“What is the meaning of this?” Sakura’s Father snarled.
“Oh, um…” Sakura sputtered.
“We’ll continue this in private. Just know: there will be punishment. The both of you.” her Father sneered.
Takumi stuck his tongue out like a brat. Like this wasn’t life or death for Sakura. Ryoma placed himself between his Father and his sister. Hana was nearby, too, but she was unrepentant.
Despite having known exactly what Sakura’s Father had in store for her given the disruption to his business flow.
The street they walked down was cold. The home they returned to was even colder. They had walked the whole way back and Sakura, in her high heels and now blisters, got an education on just how their old style house was so close to such salacious things like red light districts and so on. Yet another wake up call to how her real world worked.
But she really wanted to go back.
Go back to her home, to the world that she once knew but it was gone. The people she was around, once her family members, may as well be strangers because she was the only one who hadn’t known the truth. She was helpless as her Father lectured her and Hana. His voice was rich with disgust and irritation for them.
Her Father stood like a general on the battlefield, but it was just their parlour. He had Sakura and Hana kneel in front of them. Ryoma and Takumi guarded the doors so as to not let Hinoka nor their Mother overhear for it would surely break her heart but it had to be done. The troublemakers had to be dealt with as the ripples from the negotiation going south tonight would surely extend far and over their business. Or at least that's how their Father saw it as he had a thousand yard stare as he demonstrated exactly what he wanted done to Hana and who would do it.
The near sacred act of yubitsume was the only punishment that he thought would suit a woman who had no business being a yakuza gangster. He cursed himself, though. He should have never let that man's brat get in over her head. She should have been left with her own devices, to play with dolls or something else but the problem was entirely different with Sakura. She was always soft, always going to be a liability. No one ever made it out of the shadows untouched by the darkness. This would surely prove it and to establish it, he put out his hand. Both Sakura and Hana looked at intently but it was namely his pinkie finger which had their attention. It was untouched by scarring or other din, unlike the rest of the marks he had incurred over the years as the head of a gang.
“For interrupting us. I will take your top knuckle.” Sakura’s Father said and he indicated his own hand to show where Hana’s would be taken. “For jeopardising the family, I will take your second and for being an insolent woman, I will take what’s left.”
At each notch of wrinkles along his fingers, it went further and further down. Sakura was horrified but Hana braved it with a stiff upper lip.
Her Father turned his ire to Sakura, “And you… I will ask that you do it. You will be the one to do it.”
“Wh-What, no? Surely not!” Sakura gasped.
Hana stuck her arm out, she pushed Sakura back, “It’s fine. I accept the consequences. I will always follow what my heart wants. It would be an honour for Lady Sakura to be the one who punishes me.”
Sakura’s Father clicked his tongue in disgust but his word was law. Hana matched it bravely but Sakura paled. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. At the very least, she was given until tomorrow to do this heinous act against Hana at the behest of her Father.
That night, after the commotion, Sakura could hardly sleep. She didn’t need to hear it but she could feel it: her and Hana’s transgression against the Hoshido gang was the talk of the family. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could imagine was the icy sneer of her Father. The repulsion, the disgust.
Somehow loving a woman, or even just being a woman, was more reviling than the act of amputation and the blood bound punishment it symbolised. Sakura felt nauseous throughout the night and there was movement. She didn’t want to but it was out of her hands.
In the morning, Hinoka knocked on her door and had her go through the motions of it as though it was about to be any other day. She helped Sakura get changed: she wore her best, a silken kimono and helped her brush her teeth. Sakura was miserable and there was little Hinoka could do in the way of comforting her baby sister.
“I’m sorry it had to be this way.” Hinoka told Sakura. She fidgetted. She wasn’t that sorry. She was in on the lies of their life, after all. “We wanted to protect you, protect your innocence.”
Sakura repressed a sob.
“She’s waiting for you.” Hinoka said.
Hinoka shook her head and she pulled Sakura in for a hug. Her arms slid either side of Sakura’s waist, she placed her head next to Sakura’s and held her dearly. She pitied Sakura so bad. The night before, as Sakura had predicted in her catastrophising, Takumi and Ryoma had filled Hinoka in on what she had missed the night before. Their report was all she was going to get about the arranged marriage screwup but she couldn’t really blame Sakura.
“It was mine and Mother’s idea. To keep you in the dark, that is.” Hinoka said. “I really thought you could make it out. You're cute, you're smart. Not like me. It was going so well until, well, the eldest daughter wasn’t picked for some fuck off arranged marriage thing. You’ll get through this, promise.”
“Th-Thank you…” Sakura gurgled.
She cried a little. She couldn’t help it. Hinoka’s hug was so warm. She had the best intentions. They all did in their own way but that was the problem. In the end, their way was a dark and twisted path.
Hinoka let go and Sakura really wished that she wouldn’t. But it was time. With a heavy heart, Hinoka stepped back and she picked something up off the end table outside of the tea room. For so long, it had just been an art display, Sakura hadn’t even thought it was real but no. Those were sheathed knives on display and Hinoka chose one which was sharp enough to cut the air around it and now, Hinoka was entrusting it to Sakura.
All so she could hurt Hana.
“It’s time.” Hinoka said. “Per Father’s orders, I cannot let you out until you have submitted proof of your deed.”
Sakura nodded. Her cheeks were tearstained. Her hands were so small and they almost looked childlike, especially as she held the tanto that Hinoka gifted her.
Hinoka stood aside and Sakura looked forward. The tearoom, which had been so mysterious and off-limits throughout their childhood, now beckoned her. Her heart thudded in her chest. She could see her shadow over the paper sliding door. She hardly recognised the silhouette however, particularly as it got bigger and bigger as she got closer to the door.
She raised her hand. She hesitated. Hinoka cleared her throat. A way to hurry her up. Sakura nodded and she steeled her nerves.
Sakura entered the tea room and she saw Hana waiting on a tatami mat by an empty shelf. The room had been prepared for them both in advance of their punishment. The decorations which once gave the room life and vivacity: flowers, vases, art. It had all disappeared and its place was a white cloth for them both to use for the act that they had been entrusted to.
Her eyes were closed. She was breathing steadily. When the sliding door rattled, her ears pricked and her eyes snapped open. Her expression, serious, was unchanged as she laid eyes on Sakura but Sakura flinched. She had never seen Hana like this but it was clearly something that Hana had braced for so long.
“I’m ready.” Hana said.
She bowed deeply. Both her hands planted to the floor and she arched her back. Her hair tumbled forward and she waited for Sakura to draw closer. Sakura’s heart thudded in her chest, her eyes watered. She wasn’t. She held the knife tighter and took a step forward.
She came down to her knees with a flop. Tears dribbled down the side of her cheek.
“I don’t want to do this.” Sakura cried.
Hana drew back, inch by inch and replaced her hands in her lap.
“It’s not my way.” Sakura murmured.
“But it's our way, our family’s way.” Hana said.
Sakura felt an argument brew. Even flowers could get angry as she faced the terror and instead of backing down, she faced it.
Why was ignorance not bliss? She had never done anything like this before. It didn’t feel like the punishment fitted the crime. Hana was in love with her. She was in love with Hana. Hana was her bodyguard in a capacity limited by misogyny and rightful fears for her safety. She was the yakuza heiress but she hadn’t even known about the crime ring which she had been brought into until this disgusting arranged marriage.
“Do it.” Hana urged her. “Just get it over and done with. I’m ready.”
“What is wrong with you?”
Sakura’s expression was dark. It was as ugly as ugly got on her delicate features. Her throat was harsh and barky as she all but spat at Hana.
“I’m a proud yakuza gangster.” Hana retorted.
“Why?” Sakura asked. “They don’t even let you call yourself that just because you're a woman.”
“I don’t care. I’m proud of it! I’m proud to be Hana of the Hoshido gang!” Hana roared back.
Sakura’s intensity flared. She stamped her foot, “The Hoshido gang is full of cowards who lie to children and swindle away their targets. What is there to be proud of? Murder, gambling, sleight of hand and harassment. It’s awful. I hate it. I want no part in it. Why do you?”
Hana flinched. She sulked, “It’s cool… It’s… It’s what we can do. My old man was never taught to read. So being tough, it’s all he’s good for. A-And all I’m good for is my muscles, I’m not clever like you. I’d rather just do what our family’s always done than…”
“Forge your own path?”
Sakura’s voice cracked. She burgeoned with such care for Hana and yet, she could not feel it back. She grimaced. Hana’s brows furrowed. Hatred boiled on her mind, Sakura could see it clear as day in the fluorescent light of the tea room. Hana squeezed her hand but kept her pinkie finger extended. Her fist all but burrowed into the white cloth. It crumpled around her hand in wait of her encroaching amputation.
Hana nodded.
“Do you promise me?” Sakura asked. She was shaky but she meant every word. “After this, we’ll do our own thing? We’ll get out of this life. I don’t care if it means turning my back on my - on our - family, I want to walk a path that I can be proud of. Not something as bloody and cruel as this.”
Hana’s expression darkened. She seemingly didn’t want a bar of it but Sakura stood her ground. She lifted her head, her tanto too. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer - and Hana knew that damn well. So she moved the conversation along.
“Sakura.” Hana warned. “Just get it over and done with. I’m fine with it. My destiny of blood. I’m just glad… It let me have you, even if it was for only a little while…”
The rosy memories of their childhood began to jade for Sakura. They meant the world to her but they tarnished with what she knew now. She didn’t think the last twelve years were all that little time at all but maybe she was selfish. She didn’t want to give up on Hana. She didn’t want to hurt her either but they were not going to be let out of this room until Sakura had accepted her birthright and until Hana had been cut back for acting out.
Sakura inhaled sharply, “Alright. I’ll do it.” The tanto in her hands felt heavier than before.
“Thank you.” Hana mumbled.
And so, despite Sakura’s bluster about not wanting to be like her family, she proved that she had their dragon’s blood in her veins. The first aid she had been taught and additional knowledge around knives served her well as she enacted the amputation of Hana’s pinkie finger.
Sakura knelt down next to Hana. Hana’s arm muscles had involuntary reactions as Sakura assessed her. It shouldn’t be harder than chopping carrots but that was quite the lie.
Sakura aligned the knife to Hana’s finger. She selected the knuckle per her Father’s instructions. He wanted Hana’s pinkie finger lopped off entirely: her misdeed of interrupting a crucial negotiation with Sakura’s virginity as his bartering token was unforgiveable. So for it, she would loose her entire finger. The lip of the knife nicked the surface of Hana’s skin.
With the tanto in position, just above the webbing of Hana’s hand, Sakura took a breath. She closed her eyes and briefly, she saw a flash. This was Hana, this was Hana’s pinkie finger, the same Hana and same finger who had sworn her loyalty again and again. From as young as when they were in elementary schoolers. Sakura’s heart wavered.
She needed to focus. Her lips quirked. Sakura emptied her mind of anything beyond the now. She opened her eyes and her reflection in the immaculate steel blade of the tanto. It was time.
Sakura sliced through Hana’s finger expertly. It was a clean, even break. Sakura couldn’t have done it better if she tried and her exterior was cold. Calm. Even as her hand quivered and her ears rang with Hana’s voice.
Hana cried out and Sakura exhaled. She dropped the knife. There was blood. So much blood. Hana’s pinkie finger was limp on the white cloth, though it dyed red quite quickly.
Sakura recovered and her instincts reacted. She ripped the cloth off the ground, the finger went flying. Sakura bundled Hana’s hand in its entirety with the cloth and suffocated it. She put as much pressure as she could on it with her toothpick arms and dainty hands.
“I-I’m sorry.” Sakura stammered.
“I forgive you.” Hana said but she looked scared.
Harrowed.
Hana’s face was pale at the best of times but right now, she was white as a sheet. Her eyes were tinged red, her wavy hair was dishevelled. Her heart quaked in her chest: Sakura could practically hear it to match how her haggard breathing.
For all the smack that she talked, in the end, she was just a girl. She wasn’t as ready as she had led Sakura to believe but what was done was done. Hana was a real yakuza now.
Sakura’s eyes watered. She held Hana close, her hands clamped over Hana’s wound. Her blood was pungent in scent and she trembled. The cloth got wetter and wetter. It made Sakura sick.
“We… We did it.” Hana told her. “You did it. You were… great.”
Sakura’s stomach turned, “Let me bandage you up.”
“Thanks, I’d like that.” Hana breathed.
Sakura hesitantly unwrapped Hana’s hand with the cloth. She picked open her pack of first aid materials and she did her best to patch Hana. She wasn’t sure how much it would help. They should really go to a hospital but for now, making a mitt of Hana’s hand in bandages seemed like it would work.
Hana placed her hands in her lap. They would be permanently mismatched now. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It frustrated her.
Sakura was just relieved that Hana was on the mend. More colour came back to her face. They weren’t arguing anymore, either, so that was a bonus, too. Sakura glanced at Hana, again and again but Hana didn’t acknowledge her.
Not until she did the unbelievable.
Not until she reached across the bamboo floor and picked up Hana’s finger.
“What are you…?” Hana’s voice trailed off with confusion.
Sakura swallowed. She chose her next words carefully. Hana’s finger had already gone cold. A shame. The rest of her was so warm.
“Can you… hear me out?” Sakura asked feebly.
Hana was quiet but she nodded. Sakura’s expression was thankful but she didn’t reply directly. Instead, she launched into what she wanted to say most.
“I love you.”
Sakura’s confession came suddenly. Hana’s eyebrows raised, she couldn’t believe her ears as she processed those three, simple words. Sakura smiled, guilt and sweet, as she cradled Hana’s amputated finger. She held it close to her breast, then closer and closer, her hands inched up until the pad of Hana’s finger brushed against her lips.
“I love you so much I want you inside of me.”
Sakura kissed the pad of the finger. Hana watched, her heart leapt out of her chest. She put the tip of it in her mouth. When she naturalised to that, Sakura emboldened. She put more and more of the finger in her mouth and sucked hard.
Sakura closed her eyes and she savoured the taste of Hana’s finger. She chewed it, it was difficult but she was able to gnaw off some of the flesh from the bone. She swallowed. It didn’t go down easily but it did go down. Somehow.
She sat with it. With what she had done and she practiced as much gratitude as she possibly could in doing so. The taste was strange but Sakura didn’t necessarily dislike it. It was savoury with a salty and coppery tinge. Sakura chewed again. She sucked it. Hard. She gnawed and endured the sensation of vomit as the taboo she violated tried to fight back against her.
“Ah, Sakura-”
“It’s… It’s delicious.” Sakura replied around the intrusion in her mouth.
She gagged. IShe loved the taste but the taste hated her. Her stomach did not take to it, either, she felt queasy the longer the flesh sat at the bottom of her belly. She couldn’t take it anymore. So, she spat it out and Hana blushed, she was flustered by the look of the amputated finger which was flecked with spittle and foam from Sakura’s saliva.
Hana was horrified and yet, so unbelievably touched. She wanted to be sick but it gave her butterflies in her stomach at the same time. Sakura really was her parents’ child, the worst of their crimes lurked within her and how she expressed her love epitomised that and yet…
Her innocence, her love prevailed.
Sakura tightened her fingers over Hana’s. She took a breath.
“This might be morbid…” Sakura mumbled. “But I want to make your finger into a ring for myself.”
“Huh?” Hana’s eyes widened.
“I want to take the bone from it, strip it of its flesh and make it into a keepsake. I don’t want to bury this awful thing between us but…”
“Sakura…” Hana could feel it. A lightening in her chest, the raising of her shoulders. Her hopes were getting up but Sakura felt the same.
“I want us to run away.” Sakura continued. “I want us to be happy together. Happy and safe. I-I don’t want to be a part of this world, even though this world is in my veins… Let’s go somewhere we can do that.”
Hana swallowed, “I want to go somewhere sunny and tropical. How about… Hawaii? It’s not bad as a segue for yakuza trying to get out of Japan with all its tourists and dual passport-holders.”
“Hawaii sounds beautiful… Let’s do it. Together.” Sakura said.
Hana beamed and Sakura felt her heart swell. She could see it now. A bright vision for the future, the memories that she wanted to make most with the woman who had been alongside her through thick and thin. For the sake of that happiness, she was going to keep Hana’s finger safe, until they could be together, until they could turn their backs on this life of crime and walk into the balmy sunlight. Hand in hand and with Sakura’s ring finger adorned with a unique jewel.
